#I leave Steve alone for one in-game day and he gets into fucking bowling.

[eddiezpaghetti]

If you've been following my Sims posts with any amount of interest (if so. why.) you'd know that I've been playing between Stranger Things characters and trying to get them to meet naturally.

So Dustin randomly appeared outside Will's house (presently playing as Will for the in-game week), so they're buddies now, and I decided to have them hang out and like, bowl, because why not? So they went to the bowling alley, and I saw Eddie appear outside in full bowling league regalia, which...hilarious. Love that for him. But I got really excited because neither Dustin nor Will are in Hellfire, which was a MAJOR goal in all this--getting the core four (+ Corroded Coffin) in Hellfire, and Mike and Lucas are both already there--so I was like "HELL YEAH. I CAN JUST GET THEM ALL TO START TALKING AND THEN HELLFIRE IS BASICALLY GOOD TO GO."

And then...someone else showed up, also geared up to bowl, just running a little late.

fucking STEVE

Steve and Eddie meet in this universe because they join the same fucking BOWLING LEAGUE, I GUESS and now I have to live with that. Sure. Why not. Steddie bowling AU.

[buckybarnesisdaddy]

Summer Lovin’ pt2

Summary: Everyone learns the truth about Peggy and Everly’s past. Bucky and Steve lend an ear, and both men make it clear who their heads have turned to.

Pairing: Everly(Reader) X Steve Rogers, Everly(R) X BuckyBarnes, Jake Jensen X Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff X Bucky Barnes. Past Everly(R) X Colin Shea, Past Peggy X Colin Shea, Past Everly(R) X Brock Rumlow.

Rating: Mature!

Warnings: Anger, yelling, talks of cheating, talks of post physical abuse, talks of death, flirting.

A/N: I am loving this story and the drama is only getting started! 🤭

Previous

All you see is red and if Natasha hadn’t been right behind you, your fist would have found Peggy’s jaw in about three seconds. “Easy, there.” Natasha says as she catches your hand and spins you back to face her. “She’s not worth getting kicked out.” She says as she squeezes your shoulders.

“That’s why you looked so familiar! Fuck you!” You yell as Natasha moves you away, wanting to create distance between you and Peggy.

“What the hell is going?” Bucky asks as he runs up beside you.

“Why is everyone screaming?” Jake asks as he walks up with Wanda.

“Everly, it’s not what it looks like!” Steve exclaims as he shoves Peggy off of him.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, Steven.” Peggy says trying to be flirty but missing the mark completely. Steve turns to her, his piercing gaze quieting her quickly.

“My name is Steve. Not Steven. And I didn’t like it. In fact I was telling you to slow down and to stop. Short of throwing you on the ground I don’t know what else I could have done.” Steve exclaims before he quickly crosses over the lawn to you. “Please Everly, let me explain-“ you cut him off with a glare of your own.

“We will handle this later,” your gaze shifts over his shoulder to Peggy. “You just can’t help stealing men who aren’t yours, can you?!” You yell. Peggy scoffs and walks closer, hands on her hips and her nose in the air.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Everly. This is the name of the game. Everyone flirts and switches partners the whole time. Don’t get so hurt about it.” She tries to brush off your comment, she thinks you won’t. That you won’t air the dirty laundry between you two, but she has underestimated you.

“Well, what about in life? Huh?! Is it ‘the name of the game’ to sleep with someone else’s boyfriend?!” You yell, you don’t mean to but the way Peggy is taken aback makes you feel better about yelling. Bucky and Steve look at you and then back at Peggy. Natasha scoffs and glares at the woman still holding her head high.

“Wait?” Bucky asks. “You are the woman who broke up Everly’s last relationship?”

“Because you had an affair with her boyfriend.” Steve continues.

“The one and only. Took me hearing her say those same disgusting words to Steve to remember where I had seen her before.” You answer for her. Peggy’s eyes shift quickly as she looks at everyone, thinking on her feet.

“For the record, Everly, Colin had me fooled as well. I thought he was single, granted newly single but I didn’t know you two were still together.” Peggy convincingly explains, but you know better. You know what you heard that day.

✨7 months ago✨

You just got home from work, dropping your keys in the bowl by the door and setting your bags down. You were suppose to go straight over to your parents house but you forgot your suitcase that morning before you left. You’ll need it for the week away so you just decide to stop by the apartment and grab it before you head out, maybe get a little goodbye in with Colin before the long week you’ll be spending apart. Your first sign should have been the Colin’s shirt tossed over the back of the couch. He never leaves his clothes laying around like that because he knows how it bothers you. But you tell yourself it’s because he thinks he’s alone for the week, he’s probably just getting a head start on acting like a slob. The next should have been the open bottle of wine on the coffee table, because he knows how you hate wasting good wine. You tell yourself that he’s gonna come back and finish it. Sadly the one you couldn’t explain away, the one that stopped you in your tracks, the one that made you speechless, was the woman’s voice coming from behind the closed bedroom door. You hear Colin’s familiar sounds, the ones that make you melt, that make you respond in a similar ways. Sound that only you can pull from him. Yet now in your bed, in your room, in your apartment some other woman is pulling those sounds from his mouth. Your boyfriend, the one that just asked your dad for his permission to marry you. The boyfriend who always promised to never hurt you, is now breaking every trust he helped you rebuild and reopening every old scar he had helped heal. “Next time we are doing this at my place.” The woman says. ‘Next time?’ You think, ‘how long has this been going on?’ The mystery women continues. “I hate sleeping with you while there is a picture of the two of you on the damn wall.” You are enraged, ‘of course there are pictures of me and my boyfriend, in my damn house!’ You scream in your mind, doing your best to stay silent so you can hear what Colin says back.

“We have to stop this. This isn’t going anywhere, I love Everly.” Colin groans, hearing the pleasure in his voice. As he says they have to stop he pushes himself farther over the edge.

“I know, and I don’t care, touch me.” The woman answers back and then you hear her hushed moans. Your feet are moving before you can comprehend what’s happening. You swing open the bedroom door, letting it slam back again the wall. Colin jumps out of bed and stands next to it while facing the door. Meeting your gaze, he instantly feels regret and remorse but he knows better than to speak. You walk past him and grab your suitcase and the last couple things on your nightstand. There is a picture of you and Colin staring back at you as you turn to leave the room, all you do is take it off the wall and drop it to the ground. Glass breaks everywhere and the picture is ripped by the glass shards. You don’t look back as you walk down the hall and out the front door, not even caring to slam it. Tears fill your eyes on the elevator ride as you call your mom to tell her you are on your way home.

✨Present day✨

You cock your eyebrow and go in for the kill. “Oh really, Peggy?!? Because as you were actively fucking my boyfriend you said, and I quote, ‘Next time we are doing this at my place. I hate sleeping with you while there is a picture of you two on your damn wall.’ Then when he told you he loved me and that his affair with you wasn’t going anywhere you said, ‘I know, I don’t care. Touch me.” You walk closer to her. “You knew the whole time so don’t try and play sweet now!” You snap at her. “I just wanna know why?!” You ask. Natasha inching closer just in case she needs to restrain you from punching Peggy and getting kicked off the island. “Why did you go after Colin knowing he was taken. Why did you go after Steve knowing he was taken. What did I ever do to you?!!” You yell and Peggy crosses her arms as she shakes her head as she starts to walk away. “No! You don’t get to just walk away from this.” You chase after her, she turns around quickly and you two are face to face.

“I knew him first!” She yells. You stand your ground and refusing to look away. The group behind you shuffles and you hear Jake whisper to Wanda.

“Wait, so Peggy knew Steve too?” Wanda pats his face and quietly says ‘no’. Peggy rolls her eyes having heard Jake.

“I worked with Colin, we were sleeping together, nothing serious but I thought maybe we would eventually become something more. But then he starts going on and on about ‘the most amazing girl he’s ever met’. Even after fucking me, he was going on and on about you!” She screams. She takes a step back and you allow her that, giving her the space she needs if only for a moment. “About 2 years into our arrangement he stopped mentioning you so I thought, ‘this is my chance.’ So I made a move and he shot me down, saying he ‘had a lot on his mind’. He pushed me away and whenever I came over he wouldn’t even let me in his apartment.” Peggy looks off to the side and shakes her head. “Turns out you had already moved in. He had ‘a lot on his mind’ because you showed up on his doorstep one day begging for a place to stay. And because he was so in love with you, he folded to your every ask. He chose you over me and then for the next 3 years of my life I was kept at a distance- I had lost my friend! Because of you!” Your mind races with so many thoughts, connecting the dots and becoming even angrier. This time you choose quiet rage,

“I don’t care who knew him first, Peggy. He wasn’t with you when we started dating but you seduced him back into your arms. He’s not faultless in this, it’s his fault as much as it’s yours. So no explanation will make me ‘see things your way.’ You were sleeping with someone else’s man and you are trying to justify it, but there is no justification. And now you’re just being vindictive against me and going after Steve. Grow up, Peggy.” You turn and walk away, she tries to get the last laugh.

“You moved in while we were still- we were still something, Everly! You aren’t any better!” She yells, you spin around debating whether to tell the truth and spill sensitive information on camera.

“I had known Colin for 5 years. He knew about my previous relationship and when I needed help he let me move in. I had only been with Colin for 2 years when I caught the two of you together. There was a whole year between the end of your arrangement with him and when we started dating. So again, there is no explanation that makes anything you did okay.” You turn and walk away, past the others who throw glances towards Peggy and call after you as you walk away, heading into the villa and up to the bedroom.

You sit on the terrace overlooking the whole villa. Your knees tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around your legs. Tears drip down your face and drop onto your legs as you silently cry. “Ugh Everly, get over it.” You say to yourself, “It’s been almost 7 months and he never even tried to apologize.” You hear a knock on the terrace door and your head turns to see who it is. He leans against the doorframe, his blue eyes are gentle and kind as he looks over you with concern. “Hi, Bucky.” You say quietly. He gently smiles and walks through the door closing it behind him.

“For the record Steve and I played rock, paper, scissors to see who would get to talk to you first.” He smiles as he sits next to you and you gently smile. “So don’t think he didn’t want to talk to you, cause he really did. He wanted to explain everything, but I wanted to check on you,” you meet his gaze and more tears fall. He lays his hand on your head and strokes your hair. “So how are you doing?” You let out a sad laugh.

“I’m angry, Bucky. At Peggy, at Colin, hell even a little at Steve.” You look at Bucky who is about to defend his friend. “And yes I know he was trying to get her to stop while still being respectful, but sometimes you just gotta be a little rude.” Bucky laughs and nods.

“Yeah, well Steve is rarely rude.” Bucky shrugs. “He can be stupid, stubborn, and jump into situations without really thinking, but he isn’t rude.” You wipe your eyes. “And he’d never hurt someone purposefully.” You take Bucky’s hand in yours and give it a squeeze. “Now, you wanna talk about everything that just happened?” You can’t help but laugh.

“Did you not hear the screaming match?” Bucky smiles and you look up at the sky, this beautiful summer night spoiled by so much anger.

“Just tell me this, what happened between you and Colin? Why would Peggy think you two were together before you were?” You turn and look at Bucky, something in your gut tells you to trust him. You take his left hand in yours, feeling his scars along his wrist and along his forearm, tracing them with your fingers. Bucky can see the struggle within you, knowing you are trying to decide whether to trust him or not. He draws his fingers across your palm and stays quiet, letting you work out what you want to do. You look up and just know, his eyes say it all, he won’t let you down.

“Colin let me move in with him because I was recovering and hiding from my abusive ex-boyfriend. Colin helped put me back together and restored my trust in people.” You wipe a tear again and Bucky decides to push.

“What happened, with your ex? If you don’t mind me asking.” You hold his hand tighter.

“He left me for dead on our kitchen floor when I tried to leave him and when I didn’t die he promised he would find me and make sure he finished the job.” You refuse to look at Bucky, you don’t want his pity and that’s how everyone looks at you when you tell them about Brock.

“Look at me, Everly. Please?” Bucky asks, his voice soft. You look and his gaze almost heals the pain in your heart at that moment. “I am so sorry- no Woman- no one should ever have to go through that. I am glad you got away and I am happy that for a moment someone was able to help you heal from the damage he did. I’m sorry he didn’t turn out to be much better though.” Your tears start to fall and Bucky pulls you into a hug. His hands rubbing your back, calming you down. You suddenly remember that you are surrounded by cameras, and you only just met Bucky that morning. You quickly sit up and look at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry I-“ you scoot away and blush as you take a breath. “Umm thank you for your help, really it as very kind.” You sigh as you stand up. “I should probably find Steve, get all this settled before bed.” You go to walk away and Bucky stands up, catching your hand. Making sure he doesn’t pull or grip you too tight.

“Hey, just-“ he pulls you close, “come here real quick.” He gives you a hug, you feel safe and seen. You both take in a deep breath and enjoy the moment before he pulls back and squeezes your shoulders. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here, Everly. I meant what I said earlier, I’m not bowing out so easily.” He takes a respectable step back and then kisses your hand. “I’ll go get Steve and send him up here, it will give you two some privacy.” He drops your hand and walks to the door before he leaves you softly call after him.

“Bucky?” He hums in response as he turns around. “Thank you for listening.” Bucky’s eyes light up and you can’t help but smile.

“You’re welcome, Everly. Anytime. Steve will be right up.” And with that Bucky disappears down the stairs.

You sit on the bench staring up at the moon. Bucky is the first person you’ve told since Colin, and that decision feels so right you didn’t feel the need to tell him ‘don’t tell anyone.’ You feel safe with Bucky, a feeling and emotion that eventually came back after a lot of professional help. You went to therapy after you left Brock, Colin made you. He said you needed to talk to a professional, so you made weekly appointments. Doing the work and seeking help along with Colin being there for you was healing and exactly what you needed. He helped when you needed him most and you can’t imagine that time without him. Getting over him wasn’t hard though. Maybe it was because of the betrayal or because you had fallen for him because he was your ‘savior’, but when your phone didn’t ring with his thousand apologies and no flowers came to beg for you back, you didn’t break. Losing him hurt and adjusting to single life again was hard but there wasn’t a day that went by where you missed him. What you had? Sure, but actually missing Colin? No. You left the apartment that day and never looked back. He was sweet and kind but he was human and he made mistakes, him not even trying to fix them made you aware of just how ‘human’ he was. “Everly?” Steve’s voice calls you out of your thoughts. You straighten up and motion for him to join you. “Look, I want to apologize for what you saw- no, for what I’d did, or what I didn’t do.” You give him a weak smile and he turns to face you. “I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be alone with her knowing how she felt about me. I should have tried harder to push her away. Look I know what I said earlier, I found her intriguing and I was into her but hearing about what she did to you. I can confidently say my head is firmly turned to you.” You let out a laugh and look down at the ground, “which I know sounds like the stupidest things to possibly say at this moment but I just need you to know her stunts didn’t do what she wanted them to. In fact they put me more off of her.” He takes your hands in his and his eyes are pleading with you to believe him.

“I believe you, Steve.” Your place your hand on the side of his face and brush your thumb over his cheek. “Honestly all of the emotions tonight had more to do with the past rather than what Peggy did today.” Steve furrows his brow and you smile a little. “I mean you are sweet and I really do hate that she moved in on you, but we have known each other for 12 hours so I can’t be as mad as I was with Colin.” Steve nods and laughs.

“Yeah, I get that.” His eyes soften and he brushes your cheek with his thumb, copying the movement you just did to him. “12 hours or not, I really do like you. And I really really want to start over with you. Forget Peggy, forget all the drama. What do you say?” Your breath catches and your gaze shifts to the ground and then back at him.

“I’d like that, but there are a few things you should know before we start over.” Steve nods.

“I’m all ears.” He leans back and drops his arm across the back of the bench.

“I need you to know that I was never with Colin while he was involved with Peggy. I didn’t know her- never even saw her, but I knew about her. Colin would mention her from time to time but she never came over and he never went out. I thought they worked together and had a fling.” You take another breath before looking at him. You see the same trusting gaze that you found with Bucky. So you decide to tell him, “And the reason I moved in with him was because my ex boyfriend beat me so bad I almost died, Colin helped me hide, my ex didn’t know about him so I was safe there. I was safe with him, until I wasn’t.” You see Steve straighten up and clench his fist. “He didn’t hurt me, physically. He just- when I needed him to be better he couldn’t be.” You meet Steve’s gaze and it’s different. Bucky’s healed you, Steve’s is strengthening you, both as important as the other.

“Is this creep still alive?” Steve asks, his jaw clenched. You feel oddly comfortable with him so you reach out and pat his thigh as you lightly laugh.

“Umm no, actually.” Steve glances at you. “He worked on some special forces thing. Secret government mission and all, he didn’t make it home and he had me listed as his ‘family’ so I got the notice.” You sigh and Steve nods. “He was killed in action right around the time Colin and I started dating..” A flash of something passes over Steve’s face. He quickly looks at you, you can’t quite figure out why he has that look.

“What was his name?” He asks. You are taken aback and you shake your head, thrown by his question, why does he care what his name was?

“Brock, Brock Rumlow.” The name sends shivers down your spine. Steve nods, there is a flash of something in his eyes and then it’s gone. He nods and then takes your hands.

“I’m sorry but I’m glad he can’t hurt you anymore.” You reach out and rub his shoulder and let your hand fall on his chest.

“Me too, Steve.” His eyes are soft and his smile is sweet, he leans in and gives you a gentle kiss. You let him linger for a moment before you gently push him away. “Steve?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes as he leans his forehead against yours. “you said you had ‘a few things’ you wanted to talk about.” You nod, “I’m guessing this one is about Bucky.” You nod again and Steve nods too. He kisses your head and then sits back. “Even if my head isn’t turned anymore, yours still is.”

“Yeah, it is.” You admit. Steve looks up at the sky, the stars shining bright. He smiles and then looks at you.

“Well, I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. In fact I’m kinda known for running in head first.” He smirks and you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, Bucky mentioned something about you being Stubborn.” You wink and Steve laughs.

“Stubborn and not willing to give up on something I believe in.” He scoots closer to you. “And I believe we could have something pretty amazing.”

“Oh do you?” You ask teasing him.

“I do,” he takes your face in his hands. “And I’m willing to put my actions where my mouth is.” He kisses you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You smile against his lips and then pull back. “So, bedtime?” Steve asks and you bite your lip and nod.

“Yeah, let’s head inside.” You pull away but take his hand. Steve stops you for a moment. “Are we okay, Everly?” You squeeze his hand and he takes that as a yes. You lead him downstairs and into the bedroom where the others are getting ready for bed.

“OooOOooo” you hear someone calling, you turn and you see Natasha basically catcalling Bucky. He smirks as he strides past everyone already lounging in bed. His black boxer briefs clinging to him in all the right places. All day and you never noticed how toned his thighs are or maybe you did but you were trying to be respectful. He meets your gaze and he winks before he jumps onto the bed with Natasha. She laughs and flings a pillow into his stomach which he promptly tosses back at her. You giggle and look at Steve who is just shaking his head as he laughs.

“I’m gonna get changed.” You tell him as you head off to the closet. Foot steps hurry behind you and you prepare yourself for another round with Peggy. To your surprise, it’s Natasha and Wanda.

“Okay, you have to spill everything!” Wanda gushes and sits at one of the vanities. Natasha sits next to her and backs up her statement.

“Yeah, dish on what took so long with the beautiful, buff twins over there.” Natasha sits back and smirks. A blush rises on your cheeks and you can’t hide the smile breaking on your face.

“Bucky came and talked to me first. He was really sweet and just wanted to check on me, make sure I was okay.” You fidget with your pajamas in hand. “Then It was Steve’s turn, he wanted to make sure we were okay, explain himself and apologize.” Natasha nods and looks at Wanda.

“Okay so where do you stand with him?” She asks as she leans forward.

“Well, I believe him when he says he isn’t into her anymore and the stunt she pulled makes him that more turned off by her.” You are quiet for a moment and the two ladies let you sit in your thoughts for a moment. “I told them both about my past, which I can’t talk about anymore tonight but I promise to fill you both in,” Wanda gets up and hugs you and Natasha squeezes your hand as you wipe a little tear away with the other. “I was honest with him that even though I am with him my head is still turned a little by Bucky.” You glance at Natasha and she smiles.

“Hey, I’ll be honest, my head is a little turned by everyone here.” She shrugs. “So you aren’t hurting my feelings saying that.” You laugh and look around.

“I feel horrible that my drama made the first day end so abruptly.” You sit down on the floor and they both join you.

“No!” Wanda exclaims, “it was Peggy and her vindictive ways! If she had just played the game like the rest of us you could have gone the whole summer never having known! But she wanted to get under your skin, she wanted to create the drama. Don’t feel bad for defending yourself.” Wanda states. You sniffle and thank her.

“So how are you and Jake?” You ask and Wanda blushes, she looks around to make sure no one got up to eavesdrop. She leans in and whispers.

“He is so dreamy!” She gushes. You and Natasha laugh and tease her a little.

“Oh look at Wanda, ready to walk off the island already!” Natasha pokes at her and she blushes.

“Well not quite. But he has potential! I’m ready to flirt my ass off tomorrow and really work at getting to know him.” She says proudly. “Natasha, what is your plan?”

Natasha glances at you and then back at Wanda.

“You know I’m not sure. I have to be honest, I might put in the flirt tomorrow on Steve, see where it goes. Respectfully of course!” She looks to you and you smile. You lean your head on her shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me and not doing it behind my back.” You say as you squeeze her arm in yours and sigh. “I’m gonna test the waters with Steve and Bucky tomorrow, see if sparks start flying, you know?”

“Yes!” Wanda yells too loudly.

“Absolutely!” Natasha agrees. Steve and Bucky come running in.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asks, looking between the three women. You blush and the other two just laugh and nod.

“Yup! We’re perfect Buck! Now go lay down!” Natasha shoos him away. Steve and Bucky can hear the laughter and giggles as they walk away from the closet. Steve pulls Bucky to the side and motions for him to follow. Bucky does and ends up in the stairwell with Steve.

“Did Everly tell you about her past? About her Ex?” Steve asks, leaning against the wall.

“Colin?” Bucky questions.

“No,” Steve looks to make sure no one is listening. “About the one who-“ Bucky cuts him off.

“Oh, yeah,” her nods and looks to the ground. “Yeah she did. I was about three seconds away from asking for his address cause ‘I just wanna talk’. God what an asshole.” Bucky says as he crosses his arms. He sits on the top stair and Steve settles on the stair two down from him.

“Well, he’s dead.” Steve says, gaging Bucky’s reaction.

“Good riddance!” Bucky almost cheers, Steve stops him, shushing him a little and leaning in closer.

“It was Rumlow, Buck.” Steve says, his jaw clenched. Bucky’s heart stops for a moment, the memories flooding back to him. He hangs his head in his hands and rubs his face before he looks up to meet Steve’s gaze.

“Were they together before he died?” The tension in Bucky’s voice is painful, Steve knows he is holding back so he doesn’t put a hole in the wall.

“Yeah, from what she told me, it sounded like there was only a year between their break up and when he died.” Steve explains, examining his own hands, there is a scar across his knuckles from where he had taken out his anger on the very man they are speaking about. Bucky has a few knife scars from him as well.

“So,” Bucky is finally putting all the pieces together. The ones that Steve put together as he talked with you on the terrace. “The woman he would brag about and show photos of, was Everly.” Steve nods. “And the woman he said was an ‘obedient bitch’, was Everly.” Steve leans his head back against the wall. “And the Woman you and I tried to find and save from him because we were tired of hearing his stories about how he hurt her, that woman was Everly.” Steve look at Bucky and nods, a slight tear in his eye.

“Yeah, Buck.” Steve confirm/ his voice breaking. “She was dating him during that time so unless he was cheating on her, then yeah.” Bucky hangs his head again and Steve look up at the ceiling. “God, I hope he was cheating on her.” Steve whispers, Bucky can’t believe it but he agrees with Steve, hoping against all odds that you weren’t the woman Brock would talk about. “This incredible woman has been hurt enough, the last thing I want to do is end up in a fight over her especially if it could cost me my best friend.” Bucky looks at Steve and nods. “I can’t deny what you two have, I can see it. Had she walked out first she would have chosen you.” Bucky goes to interrupt but Steve won’t let him. “Yet I can’t help but feel a connection with her, Buck.” Steve sighs, “I’m not gonna back down. I’m not gonna be macho, alpha man and ‘stake my claim on her’ but I’m also not gonna give up without a honorable fight. So may the best man, Win.” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. He reaches a hand out and shakes Steve’s while they stand up.

“I intend to, Stevie!” He jokes and Steve laughs, patting his back and heading off to the bedroom.

“So Everly, are you gonna wear a sexy little outfit tonight? Or are you sleeping alone?” Wanda asks. You look at your options and decide to throw caution to the wind.

“You know what?! Why the hell not!” You grab a little black Teddie. It’s lace but not seen through and still leaves quite a bit to the imagination.

“What about this?” You hold it up to get their opinions. You Wanda squeals and Natasha smirks.

“Well now I want to cuddle in bed with you.” Natasha teases and you laugh, giving her hip a bump with yours.

“And I want to wash and borrow it!” Wanda says. You laugh.

“We will see!” You say and Wanda takes that as a yes. They both get quiet and go stone cold, you turn to see what caused it, Peggy stands in the doorway, all changed and ready for bed. She puts her stuff down and heads into the bedroom. You hear Steve’s voice say, ‘Absolutely not, we can talk in the morning in clear view of others.’ You hear her shuffle away and settle on a bed, looking back at Natasha and Wanda, you can’t help but smile a little.

“Bet that felt nice to hear Stevie say.” Natasha says, teasing Steve in the process with his little nickname. You nod and beam at her.

“It really did. Now you two go to bed, I need to shower and I’ll meet y’all in there.” They shuffle to bed and leave you to it. It’s the quickest shower of your life and you rush through some of your steps, not wanting to keep everyone up even later, the lights won’t go off till everyone is in bed. You braid your hair and step into your slippers. You give yourself one final check and make your way out to the bedroom. You expect to find everyone asleep but instead everyone is awake and talking. Except when they see you. The boys stop talking and their jaws drop. You feel slightly bad because even Jake is putting his glasses back on to get a good look at you.

“Wow, Everly. You look-“ Steve starts to say but is interrupted.

“Stunning” Bucky says, his eyes gleaming as he looks at you.

“Incredible” Sam admits as he sits up in bed.

“Wow,” is all Jake says before he turns back to Wanda and gives her a sheepish look. She pats his face and then takes his glasses back off.

“You had your look, now bed.” She says and Jake blushes before he snuggles up to Wanda, but not before throwing another glance your way. Steve lifts your side of the covers and you slip off your slippers and climb into bed with him. You notice he is shirtless and he has the same type of boxer briefs that Bucky has. They are tight in all the right places and you want to get a better look, maybe later. You see a steady blush creep up on Steve’s cheeks and it spreads down his neck and across his chest. It’s really cute and you wonder if that blush spreads everywhere or if it just stops at his peck.

“Hi,” he whispers as you two lay down and he pulls the covers over you both. The lights finally go out and there is a collective sigh of relief. Steve reaches out and brushes your hair back from your face, grazing his thumb across your cheek.

“Hi,” you answer back. You move a little closer.

“I want to be respectful, so I want to ask,” he takes a breath, “do you want to cuddle? Or would you rather your own space tonight. I don’t mind either way.” You bite your lip as you think, a cuddle wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Besides, it’s been months since you were last cuddled.

“I’d love a cuddle.” You admit, you can see Steve’s smile even in the dark. You go to turn over to be the little spoon when Steve stops you.

“Oh, you know- I’m kinda the little spoon usually.” You can’t hide the shock on your face. You shouldn’t have assumed but he did offer the cuddles so you naturally thought he’d be the one holding you. You try to find you voice but he soon is laughing and pulling you close into his big arms. “Sorry I had to,” you laugh and poke his side before you turn over.

“Not funny.” You pretend to pout. He laughs and kisses your head.

“It was a little funny.” He says and you have to agree. For the first time in months you fall asleep in a man’s arms and you don’t worry about your safety, wellbeing, or if he’s cheating on you. It’s been one heck of a day and it’s only day one. You just pray the rest of the summer isn’t as exciting.

Next

Tag list: @hisredheadedgoddess28 @cadencejames87 @jessieasher1616 @janineb86 @cjand10 @slytherinqueen4life @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @georgiapeach30513 @sebastians-love @kandis-mom @spookyparadisesheep @babezawa Let me know if you wanna be added! 🥰

[psychdelia]

christmas used to be billy’s favorite holiday. he loved setting up the tree every year with his mom, matching big smiles on their faces as she carried him to set the star on top. he would help her cook and bake, dance around the kitchen with her. she always surprised him with more gifts than he anticipated, and he would give her a card with messy handwriting and glitter and a drawing of the two of them with i love you mommy scribbled on the bottom.

and then she left and christmas joy was replaced with pain. his father screaming and presenting him with fists instead of gifts. and then max and susan came along and she was their little angel. spoiled with gifts and love while he received nothing but hurt.

billy hates christmas now. hates the holidays in general, but christmas the most. spends all day sulking, curled up in bed and crying. neil gets on him about it, maybe smacks him around before leaving him even worse than how he started. he lost all hope that maybe she’ll come back as a christmas miracle, scoop him up and take him away from all the hurt.

his plan for the day was to stay in bed. avoid the world. but then neil came barging in, demanding billy get off his ass and take max to the byers’ for a christmas party. he was stupid to think that he could catch a break after being forced to ‘celebrate’ with them yesterday, which essentially meant being forced to help susan in the kitchen and watch max get showered in love and gifts while he received nothing.

so he got up. threw on a dark green sweater, tight jeans and boots, still not nearly warm enough for hawkins winter. he silently drove max to the house, only looking at her when she didn’t get out after a minute of being parked.

“what.” billy spoke flatly, his first word of the day.

“come and hang out with us.” max rushed out, nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

billy just sighed.

“i’m not really in the mood to hang out with a bunch of snotty little shits, so,” he shrugged. “maybe next year.”

“it’s not just us! nancy and jonathan are there. and mrs. byers and chief hopper! and,” a pause. “robin and steve.” she added on quietly.

“max i don’t really think-“ he was interrupted by a knock on his window. he turned to find a very happy and smiling mrs. byers eagerly waving at them.

“come inside!” she urged as billy rolled his window down.

billy just looked at max and gestured towards the house, ignoring her dramatic defeated groan before she got out.

“you too!” joyce grabbed billy’s shoulder, smile faltering at the way he flinched, her touch unexpected. “max told me you guys already celebrated yesterday. what’s another celebration?”

“i don’t think it’s a good idea mrs. byers.” he replied with a small smile, hoping to charm his way out of this situation.

she sighed. “honey, it’s your second and probably last christmas in hawkins before you go to school back home.” she responded to his shocked expression with a sad smile. “we all figured you’d be applying to schools there. and max might’ve slipped up. don’t be mad at her! she’s just scared to lose you, is all.”

billy frowned and looked down at his hands. he hadn’t even told her he was only applying to schools in california. just trying to graduate and get the hell out of indiana, go back home.

“come on, kiddo. your sister would appreciate it.” a pause. “i’ll spike your eggnog.”

billy sighed, taking a few seconds to contemplate before getting out of the car.

“oh you must be freezing.” joyce rolled her eyes as she tugged at his sweater. “you kids and your fashion. you’re gonna get yourself sick like this. hawkins isn’t california!”

billy snorted. “duh.” he mumbled as she dragged him inside.

billy should’ve expected the stares. the guarded, confused and slightly angry expressions at his presence. he felt small, being glared at by nearly everyone in the room. he wanted to turn around, walk right back out that door. almost did if it weren’t for joyce stopping him in his tracks and holding his arm.

“oh, stop that you brats.” joyce huffed. “it’s christmas. be nice! and if you can’t be nice… no more cookies.” she smirked as they all groaned in protest in unison.

billy didn’t really care about the kids. he apologized to lucas not too long after that night, even agreed to the stupid deal to drive him around town and rev his engine to receive his forgiveness in full. it took him longer to approach steve, though. didn’t have the balls to do it until a couple months before steve graduated. he found him alone in the library, studying to get his gpa high enough to be able to graduate and get his diploma.

“can i sit here?” billy gestured towards the empty chair across from steve, who was glaring at him.

“only if you don’t give me another concussion.”

billy gnawed on his bottom lip as he slid into the seat, staring at the table and avoiding eye contact like a goddamn child.

it took him a minute to finally look up and spit out those two words he’d been meaning to say since that night. but it wasn’t the apologizing he dreaded most, it was the explanation and conversation that followed. he expected steve would ask questions, and shit did he have a lot.

billy kept his answers short, general. didn’t spill too much about all the shit going on in his life and in his head. steve didn’t look satisfied with his answers, but he eventually stopped asking questions. gave billy a stiff nod with a,

“yeah. fine. i accept your apology, i guess. just don’t fuck with me or the kids anymore.”

and that was that. billy kept his distance from them altogether. he occasionally carted lucas and max around for their stupid little dates, teasing them here and there. but it was never malicious.

now he stood right in front of the door in joyce’s house, itching to get out. lucas, max and her friends el and will were the only ones not staring at him apprehensively. the curly haired one was whining, asking why he had to be there, throwing in a few words he was probably too young to be saying. boy wheeler was following suit, making grand gestures and calling him an asshole. nancy looked just as prissy as always, turning her nose up. jonathan avoided eye contact. steve wasn’t quite glaring, but he didn’t look too happy to see him either. just because they were on okay terms didn’t mean they were on great terms. his girl robin didn’t seem too thrilled either.

“i’m just gonna..” billy pointed towards the table filled with drinks and snacks. he walked away as the commotion continued behind him, helping himself to the bowl labeled adult eggnog. he grimaced after the first sip before pouring himself a little more.

it was hard to make himself comfortable. he sat stiff and tense on the edge of the couch, as far away from everyone as he could get. the burn of the rum didn’t do much to heal the hurt in his chest, the pain of abandonment and grief he felt this time every year. he tried to tune everyone out, ignoring the kids yelling as they played video and board games, hopper as he snuck the teenagers more eggnog and beer, joyce as she continued to force feed everyone her christmas appetizers.

he found himself staring at the tree, messily decorated to the brim and a little lopsided. his gaze shifted to the walls, family pictures of just the brothers, then joyce and the brothers, and some including hopper and el. he was unconsciously playing with the chain around his neck, chest getting tighter and tighter. he forced his eyes away from the pictures to find jonathan helping joyce cook and set up dinner in the kitchen, laughing and smiling.

that was his breaking point. he set down his empty cup and sped off to the bathroom, scrubbing at his wet eyes. he shut the door behind him, pacing back and forth, trying to breathe through the lump in his throat. he eventually gave up trying to fight the tears off, a christmas tradition for him at this point. he eventually sat down in and slumped back against the bathtub, closing the curtains and shielding him from the rest of the world. he tuned out the music and chatter from outside, instead hugging his knees to his chest and hiding his face in his hands as he cried.

he knew he shouldn’t have listened to joyce. he shouldn’t have gotten out of his car and stepped foot into this house. he should’ve just gone home and lay in bed all day, much less embarrassing than crying in a goddamn bathtub with people right outside.

but here he was, trying to make up for lost time and bonding and memories with max, to show her that he cares and loves her and isn’t going to abandon her like his mother. and yet he was alone, abandoned and abandoning max in just 5 months. his chest hurt as he cried harder, tears freely slipping down his cheeks and staining his stupid sweater. he was nearly wheezing for air, not getting enough in between his sobs.

he must’ve been too loud because he didn’t hear the door open and shut. didn’t even know he wasn’t alone until steve pulled back the curtain, stunned to find him curled up there and crying.

billy wanted to snarl at him, glare at him with a smartass comment about the bathroom being occupied, but all that came out when he opened his mouth was another choked sob.

“shit, man, you don’t look so good.” steve spoke the obvious. “hargrove, you gotta breathe. don’t want you turning blue on me.”

billy turned away, shielded his face with his arms for god knows what. maybe he was expecting a punch, to be told he was a little bitch for crying like this. but all he received were hesitant hands gently prying his wrists away from his face.

“hey.” steve murmured, now only inches away from him. billy didn’t realize he climbed into the tub with him, kneeling before him in the cramped space.

“fuck off.” billy breathed out, all bark no bite, trying to pull his arms away from steve’s grip. but steve didn’t let up.

“why? so you can suffocate yourself to death in mrs. byers’ bathroom?” steve mused, rubbing circles into billy’s wrists with his thumb. “not gonna happen.”

“i don’t need-“ he choked up, words cracking as more tears unleashed. “i don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

“i know.” steve let go of his wrists, sitting back against the opposite end of the small tub. billy almost whimpered at the loss. was so glad he could will himself against at least one thing.

“what about a friend?” steve took in the way billy’s eyes shifted towards him, expression guarded. “look, man, you’re graduating and leaving next summer,” how many people had max told? “and you’re obviously going through some shit so i don’t see why i can’t at least try to help you through this so we,” he sighed as he gestured between them. “so we can be friends and not on bad terms anymore because i’m tired of having enemies.” he rushed out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “i know what it feels like to want to leave this shithole, trust me. robin already applied to schools in cali too and i was maybe thinking about going with her and if we end up in the same place then maybe we can all be friends and help each other out.” he rushed out again.

billy just stared at him, bottom lip quivering pathetically. here steve was, offering to be his friend and follow both him and robin all the way to california. he’d be stupid if he didn’t take the offer.

“what? you following your little girlfriend out to cali for her to dump you on your ass like the last one?” billy was never too bright in the friendship industry.

“what? no. robin’s not - we’re not like that. we’re just friends.” steve frowned. “i already applied to some community colleges out there. but this isn’t about that right now.” he waved his hand dismissively. “you gonna tell me what’s up with you now? a secret for a secret?”

billy opened his mouth to try and reject the offer, to tell steve to fuck off again, but another sob wracked his body. he let out a frustrated groan through his tears as he scrubbed uselessly at his eyes.

“fuckin’ hate christmas.” he choked out, grabbing onto the saint necklace. his mother’s. “it-“ a whimper. “it was my favorite. at least until my mom,” he shut his eyes tightly, tears spilling out of the corners. “she just. up and left. left me with no note or explanation and a piece of shit father.” he exhaled shakily. “he beat her. and when she left..” he trailed off, gesturing towards himself. “there were no more fucking homemade pies or trees or gifts. just him. always drunk and angry every christmas, blaming me for her. then max and susan came into the picture and they had their perfect little family. celebrated every year.” the without me went unspoken.

billy hadn’t realized steve was inching closer and closer to him until he looked up from the bathtub and found steve inches away from him again, eyes big and sad as they looked over him.

“what are you-“ billy didn’t get to finish his sentence before he was enveloped in a big hug, the guy squeezing him tightly.

“hugging you.” steve mumbled into his shoulder, forcing billy’s face into the crook of his neck. in no time he was crying yet again, right into steve’s fucking shoulder.

steve was good at hugs. good at comfort. the way he rubbed all along billy’s back, one arm secured around his waist made him feel safe in a way he hadn’t in probably a decade. he let himself go again, freely ugly crying into his expensive and soft christmas sweater, clinging onto the material with weak, shaky fists.

“i didn’t know.” steve finally spoke after a minute. “shit, man, no one knows anything about you. i figured your dad was a hard ass after we talked about the fight but not that bad.” he pulled back just an inch, catching billy’s eyes with his own. “does anyone else know?”

billy shook his head.

“why don’t you tell hopper?” steve frowned. “that’s not normal or okay.”

“no point.” billy shook his head. “i turned 18 in november. can’t do jack shit now but wait until i graduate.”

“then move out.” steve said it like it was easy. like he could afford it, like he had anywhere to go.

billy laughed but it was more sad than humored.

“and where would i go?”

“with me.” steve’s response was immediate, no hesitation. “my dad’s always gone on business trips and my mom’s italian.” he said it like it was self explanatory. billy’s confused expression prompted him to continue. “she can’t stand bad parents and she loves company. you’re another mouth to force feed, too. she makes great pasta.”

billy shook his head. “i can’t just move in with you. what if they say no or-or it doesn’t work.”

“they won’t say no.” steve assured. “come on.” he urged. “it’s just one more semester and then we’re off to the golden coast.” he smiled dumbly. “it’ll work. trust me.”

billy went silent. thought about it for a minute. what it could be like to get out of that house. live and be friends with steve. go back home with him later on.

billy slowly nodded. “okay.” he mumbled. “okay.” he repeated again, louder and solidified.

they’d make it work.

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 15.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3100+

A/N: Ladies and gentleman. This is in one of my top 3 chapters I’ve written in this series. The next one being my number 1;) I hope you enjoy and I would love any and all feedback you are willing to share!! xoxoxo

Chapter Fifteen:

Eventually when Bucky had snapped out of his thoughts, Y/N had long fallen asleep on him. He smiled down at her with a sad smile. One filled with remorse for everything she had gone through, but pride in how she handled it and didn’t let it destroy her. At least not to the extent that a lot of people get into.

She had years to do that, whereas Bucky was fresh on the subject. It would take him time to move on from that for her. He couldn’t help but feel hate for himself knowing exactly what party she was talking about. 

It was one of the few he and Steve didn’t attend. They had planned on it, but Dot wanted a quiet night in, and Steve just didn’t feel like it or something. It had been a while since that party, so he didn’t remember intricate details. 7 years to be exact. And the only reason he could guess which one it was, was because of how she acted after it. A whole month of depression and guilt she sat with and it showed. For the last 7 years Y/N had carried that with her. The only person she trusted to tell to this day was Beck. Now he was the other. 

He gathered her up in his arms, and she drowsily threw her own over his shoulders and hung on in a sleepy daze as he brought her up the stairs. He laid her in her bed, turned on her fan, and tucked her in. 

But as he stood to go back downstairs, her hand clasped around his. 

“Where y’ going?” she asked. The wine was playing a big part in the sleepiness and he could tell by her weak squeeze to his hand. 

“I’m just going to clean up downstairs. I’ll be back up in a second, sweetheart,” she nodded before giving him another squeeze to his hand and pulling the bed covers up to her cheeks. He smiled at her cute self and bent down kissing her forehead. He moved the strands of hair they fell over her eyes and studied her for a second. 

Eventually, he pulled away and went to do what he said. Popcorn kernels trashed and bowls cleaned. Leftover wine in the fridge and beer bottles recycled. He folded the blankets on the couch and set the pillows back in their original arrangement. Lastly, he went and checked to make sure all the doors were locked for the night. He had spent the night there enough to do a lock up without issues. 

Coming back upstairs, he changed into his own pajamas and snuck into the other side of the bed. Careful not to wake her, he gently and ever so softly, pulled her back to him. In her sleep, she turned to where they were face to face. Curling into his chest in comfort, trying to get as close as she could. 

He couldn’t hold in the chuckle that rumbled through his chest as she nuzzled under his chin. He ran his hand up and down her back and noticed her body relaxing with each stroke. He was glad he had that effect on her. It was the least he could offer after not being there for her in those hard times.

Now when he held her, he wasn’t just protecting her, but also trying to shield her from any more pain. He had been doing that his whole life for the family that the Roger’s had become to him. But now was different. This was a different kind of defense. This wasn’t just family protection. This was protection for someone you love. 

________________

The next morning, Y/N was the first to wake. She found herself practically embedded in Bucky’s arms. He had wrapped his giant self around her waist pulling her in close to his body. 

They had cuddled before, and even had a few sleepovers when Steve wasn’t in town, or if Becca wasn’t going to be home for the night and lent them her space. But it was only enough to count on one hand. That, plus, it never escalated to anything other than cuddling and maybe a makeout session here and there. 

Bucky had been gentle and patient in that area. Even if they hadn’t had that talk yet at that point, he didn’t push. Something she wasn’t used to in most of the guys she had dated. Pietro probably being the only other one that was understanding of it. 

Even if they had been dating a little over a month, she was glad they were taking it slow. Even if they had known each other their whole lifes. 

She somehow was able to turn in his arms and see a soft smile on his lips. He wasn’t awake, so he must have been dreaming of something nice. She took a second just breathing him in and trying to wrap her head around how all this came to be. 

Sure she had crushes on him growing up. I mean who doesn’t form a crush for your older brother's hot best friend. Though if she was being honest, she had always thought deep down that it was never a card that would be played in this game of life. 

Little did they know, it would just take time and growth. Then the fates would do with them what they will. Most card games were just a game of chance. You never know what’s going to come around the corner...

Eventually, she pulled herself away ever so gently and quietly to escape downstairs and make breakfast. She was still in her sleep shorts, but at some point took off her sweatshirt in the night from almost overheating. That plus the surprisingly excessive amount of body heat Bucky gave off made it hard to sleep with it on. 

She found a new one laying over her chair in the corner and threw it on before grabbing a hair tie and brushing her bed head up into a bun. 

Tiptoeing to the door, she slowly closed it leaving it open just a crack. 

Just as she took a step on the stairs, she heard the front door unlock and open. Freezing in her spot she waited a second. The only person who had a key besides their mom and her was…

“Hey, sis,” Steve said coming around the corner seeing her at the top of the stairs. 

“S-Steve,” she said in almost a whisper. Panic. Fear. Dread hit her at full force.“What, um, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Saturday and mom’s out of town, and I knew you were home alone. I thought I’d come over and we can go get breakfast or something,” he said with a sweet innocent smile. 

Running down the stairs a little quicker, she met him at the bottom. 

“Um, why didn’t you call? I would have gotten ready. I just woke up,” her voice was filled with anxiety and Steve noticed. 

“I thought I’d surprise you,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You ok? You seem off?”

“Um, no. I’m fine. I just got a text from work that one of the projects they had me on needs to be done sooner than I expected.” How she came up with that lie on the spot like that? She had no idea, but she ran with it. “Yeah, not the best thing to wake up too. Making me a little nervous.”

“Oh, well do you want to go get breakfast and we can talk about it? I’ve barely heard about anything with your new job. We need to catch up, Mini,” he said, poking her stomach and making her let out a loud laugh, having always been super ticklish. 

Just seconds after that, having heard voices and a loud almost shout, Bucky swug open the door and peered down the stairway where they were both at the bottom. 

Two seconds. 

Two seconds was all it took for Steve to put two and two together in his head. Bucky acting weird lately. Sneaking off randomly and never telling Steve anything, which wasn’t like him in their friendship. Hell, he had even noticed Bucky’s lingering looks, but always put in the back of his mind thinking nothing of it. 

But now. Oh, he was thinking about something now. 

Bucky was frozen at the top of the stairs, eyes locked with Steve. To make matters worse, he only had pajama pants on and no shirt.

Even from the distance of the stairwell, Bucky could see the storm brewing in the blue eyes of his best friend. 

“Steve,” Y/N started placing a hand on his arm. 

The blonde immediately ripped away from her as he turned to fully face Bucky. The alpha male, big brother, pissed off best friend was in a stance ready to fight. 

“Why the FUCK did you just come out of my sister’s room half fucking naked?” Steve growled.

“Steve, you don’t know the full story,” Y/N said softly, but she could sense the tension and for once in her life, she was slightly scared to enter the fight. 

“The fuck I don’t know the full story,” Steve said finally whipping his head back to Y/N. His blue eyes were carrying a category 5 hurricane in those ocean blues. But they didn’t stay on her long as he turned back to Bucky. 

“Listen,” Bucky said, coming down slowly. 

“I don’t know if I want to,” he responded through his teeth. “Take one more step down here, and you’re going to need some serious dental work and a nose job.”

Bucky froze about 4-5 steps away from the siblings. Finally, he looked at Y/N, worry in his eyes, but they were also apologetic. 

Y/N immediately moved around Steve and stood between the two. Closer to Steve to try and hold him back if she needed to. 

“Now wait a damn minute,” she spoke up looking straight at her older brother even if he was sending a death glare past her shoulder. “You need to calm down before we talk-”

“No. You need to go to your room. Bucky and I need to talk,” he said in an authoritative voice. 

“Excuse me?” she retorted back. Her gentleness in the situation was fading and being replaced with aggravation. “Go to my room? Am I a 13 year old girl?” she said stepping in his eyeline so he was looking at her. 

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Y/N!” He shouted. “Go to your room!”

“No,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. 

The two had this kind staring contest all the time growing up. Anytime there was a fight, they almost never relented with their stubborn asses. Their mom or dad had to send them to their rooms themselves and kept them there. The time ranging from 20 minutes to 5 hours before they calmed down. 

They were two of the most headstrong ornery people to live in this world. And it didn’t help that they were now pitted against each other. This kind of fight looked as if it could be ranging more into weeks or months. 

Knowing and experiencing situations like this with them before, Bucky spoke up again. 

“Y/N, you should listen to him. We need to talk,” he said sedately. 

“I leave and he’s going to beat your ass,” Y/N said, still staring at her brother. 

“I think he’s going to beat my ass either way,” Bucky mumbled. “Really Y/N. Just give us a second.”

“I’m a part of this equation too,” she said. Her tone easing just enough to be noticed. 

“Yes, you are. But right now, Steve and I need to talk first,” he said trying his best to defuse the fire against the heated situation happening in the entryway of their house. 

There were a few more seconds of silence as they glared at the other. 

“Fine, but I’m coming back down in 10 minutes,” she bartered. 

No one responded as she started to go up the stairs backwards. The staredown did not cease until she was even with Bucky on the steps. 

“If he does anything stupid, I’m going to beat his ass,” she said looking at Bucky. 

“I’m sure you will,” he said with a small smile that was forced for reassurance. 

She placed a hand on his shoulder. A silent good luck as they studied the other in a quick second. 

Turning back to look at Steve, she saw he was still in a rigid stance. The tension in his shoulders doing nothing but grow with every passing second. She would’ve sent him one more warning glare if he was looking, but his eyes were trained on Bucky with a look that could kill. 

Eventually she went into her room and shut her door, leaving it open just a crack. They deserved their privacy no matter how bad she wanted to step in. Deep down she knew, as best friends, they needed to talk on their own. 

Bucky looked back down and saw a bull looking at him like he was a red cape.

“Outside. Now,” Steve commanded before stomping off to the back and letting the screen door slam harshly. 

Letting out a long sigh and running a hand down his face, he finally went down the stairs. He grabbed a shirt from the bag he had left down there and headed to the backyard. Steve already in the grass pacing. 

“Steve,” Bucky said softly as he walked down the porch steps barefoot. 

Instantly, a fist collided with his face. He stumbled trying his best to not fall from the impact. When he looked up, grasping his jaw, he sent a glare to Steve. 

“I’m not saying I don’t deserve that, but-”

“Oh, you deserve a lot more than that, but I need you to explain what the HELL I just walked into and you can’t do that with no teeth,” Steve glowered. 

Looking at him while straightening his posture he wiggled his jaw some feeling just a tad bit of blood on his lip. Damn him for teaching Steve how to make a proper swing like that. 

“You gonna punch me again before I talk, or can I fucking explain myself now?” No response, only a stare was given. “Ok, so I’ve been hiding something from you.” Steve raised an eyebrow. 

“You think?”

“Listen, I’m almost as taken aback as you. One day, she’s like a little sister running around with my actual sister, and the next she's a mature grown adult who knows what she wants, exudes confidence, and is intelligent beyond measure.” He paused before adding. “Not that we didn’t know that.”

“I know what my sister is. What I want to know is why you’re sleeping with her?” Steve said, taking a step closer. 

Bucky just straightened up more as if expecting another hit. But then he processed Steve’s sentence. 

“Sleeping with her?” he questioned almost in shock. Steve not breaking his gaze. “I’m not fucking sleeping with her, asshole! I’m dating her.”

The smallest amount of tension released from Steve’s body and his face wasn’t frowning as much.

“You’re dating?” 

“Yes. Dating.”

“So you guys haven’t-”

“No. I’m a little upset that you think that low of me,” Bucky scoffed. “You think I would really just start booty calling my best friend's sister? If I wanted a friend with benefits, I can easily find a girl at a bar,” he said, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. “You’re sister isn’t a girl from a bar, Steve.”

Steve was silent processing it. He still wasn’t happy, but at least it wasn’t as bad as had thought. 

“Listen, Y/N’s been in my life just as long as she has been in yours. We’ve grown up together, created childhood memories together, picked on each other, and protected each other. She would be the last person on this earth I would want to degrade to a one night stand. She deserves so much more than that.”

“Exactly,” Steve said. 

Bucky paused taking note of Steve’s tone. “Exactly? Why do you say it like that?”  

“I mean she deserves a lot,” he said, confirming Buck’s thought. 

“I see. So I don’t make the cut?” Bucky said, now getting frustrated. The silence was enough of an answer to his question. “Wow. 26 years of being best friends and you think that little of me?”

“She’s my sister,” Steve answered. A slight tone of apology behind his words, but he kept the stoic face. 

“Yes, Steve she is! And 2+2= 4! We know this!” he said waving his arms and scoffing as he turned in his spot before turning back. Hands on his hips before one came up and ran a hand through his slight beard. 

“You know what? Screw this. I’m not going to sit here and be that guy that says, ‘Yeah, you’re right. She doesn’t deserve me. I’m not good enough for her.’ You know why, Steve? Because I know that. And it’s because I know that, that I’m going to strive with every muscle in my body and every might of my being to make sure I can be that for her one day. To make sure I can give her everything and more that she deserves. To make sure she never has to see a sad day again. To make sure she only experiences joy if I have any say. To make absolutely sure that no one ever hurts her. Why? Because I love her!”

Out of breath, Bucky chest heaving up and down showed how hard his lungs were working to get air back in them. 

Steve’s posture had almost gone back to normal. The anger no longer there. Whatever emotion he was feeling, Bucky couldn’t tell. 

“How long?” Steve asked. 

“What?” Bucky asked, confused. 

“How long have you loved her?” he repeated, looking down at the ground. 

Bucky paused. He couldn’t actually answer that. There was no specific time frame. Truth was he had loved her for a while. 

“Honestly, longer than I know... It’s just taken me this long to figure out that’s what this feeling was.”

Steve nodded his head as he put his hands in his pockets and continued to stare at the dirt by his feet. 

“Ok.”

Taken aback, Bucky's eyes widened. 

“Ok?” 

“Yeah. Ok,” Steve repeated before he started walking to the back fence that led to the driveway. 

“Wait. You’re just going to leave it at 'Ok,’ and walk away?” Bucky rushed over to stop him. 

Steve slowly turned from staring at the ground and then back at him. 

“You know, I thought that we were close enough that you could come to me with this kind of thing. That you wouldn’t feel like you had to hide it from me. Y/N and you both,” he said with pursed lips. “Guess I was wrong.” 

With that he turned back and walked to his car. Bucky watched as he started the engine, pulled out, and disappeared. 

What the hell kind of mess just happened?

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

The Number One Rule (TNOR) Taglist:

@shadowolf993 @hello-i-am-daydreaming @jessyballet  @emmabarnes @kmuir1  @beautifulrare4leafclover @thefallenbibliophilequote @l0ve-0f-my-life  @shawnie--jo​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @asoftie4bucky​ @katiaw2​ @sheeple​ @sznri​ @bxtchboy69​ @taliarosej00​ @bakugouswh0r3​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @babemendesxz​ @jenniereiji​ @taliarosej00​ @loveyou5everr​ @natdrunk​ @im-a-light-child​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​  @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @marvelfansworld @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @carls1022​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @carls1022​ @anise-d-castle6​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@morganclaire4​ @chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ 

@bellamy-barnes

​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​ @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​

[giorno-plays-piano]

Your place Part 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (High School AU)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, bullying, degradation, dubcon.

Words: 1776.

Summary: You suffer in the arms of America’s golden boy, the one who has been bullying you for years.

Part 1

P.S. Some more smut, finally! All characters had reached 18 years of age. Hope you’ll enjoy!

______________

"Are you going to come on Saturday?"

Steve moved his hand down your naked belly, watching you laying close to him on your bed and breathing softly. You glanced back at him, his handsome features illuminated by the dim light coming from the lamp on your nightstand.

"Where to?" You asked as he covered the back of your hand with his palm twice bigger than yours.

"The field house. We have a game."

He traced your knuckles with his fingertips and you thought how odd Steve was. Who could have thought the school's biggest bully was such a cuddle-bug after sex? It wasn't bad, though. You actually liked this side of him.

"Sure."

You weren't interested much in basketball or any other sports, but it was easier to come rather then fight Steve again. He was stubborn like a mule. Besides, a part of you felt like you belong there - many of your classmates were coming to see almost every game.

Why did Steve care whether you were there or not? Surely, he had already been showing you off in front of everyone as much as he could as if you were his trophy - now you sat close to him in class and then in cafeteria during lunch time; he was dragging you with him after classes along with his stupid friends. The whole school knew the nature of your relationship, and the first weeks it was making you bitter and hateful. Steve Rogers head fucking forced himself on you, yet instead of sympathy all you got was an enormous amount of jealousy. You were still receiving hate mailes dropped into your locker. The girls kept whispering curses behind your back as you walked down the corridors with Steve and his pack of wolves. He was able to make everyone silent, though. Now even his friends had no right to bully you like before. He reserved it purely for himself.

"Did you buy yourself a dress?"

"What dress?" You blinked in confusion. "Do I need a dress on Saturday?"

Steve smiled at you and leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"No, kitten, I'm talking about the prom."

You rolled your eyes at his words. Of course, Steve Rogers needed to show off everywhere he possibly could - he definitely hoped to become prom king. You, on the contrary, didn't care much. In fact, you didn't want to come there at all. You hardly had any friends at school, and coming to watch Steve flashing his smile and basking in the rays of glory would only make you more irritated with him.

"No, I didn't."

"Then we could go together. I know one nice place."

"Where? 5th Avenue again?"

You smirked, watching the guy frown. Last time you went shopping together was a nightmare for you. You ended up with several bags of expensive lingerie Steve paid for, and you were disgusted at yourself for giving in to him. True, his family was twice wealtier than yours, but it didn't mean you wanted anything from him. Except for leaving you alone, that is.

"And what of it?" Rogers asked you sharply, rising above you. "If I want to buy you a dress, I will."

You sighed, turning your head to Steve and pulling your body closer against his. You learned to enjoy this intimacy with time as he taught you what making love to each other meant. You were pleasantly surprised at his efforts to make you feel good.

"Steve, please. I don't want to think of it now. It's... ruining the mood."

He purred as you caressed his blonde hair and snuggled closer to you, dropping little kisses to your face and touching your cheek affectionately. Steve loved being tender. You believed he had a real physical need to touch you one way or another, often without any sexual subtext at all. It was almost as bad as his need to bully you verbally, especially when he was aroused. You were still learning how to cope with that.

If only he didn't make those photos of you and him in the locker room that time. It was the only reason you obeyed him three months ago when he declared he wanted to keep you close. You didn't know if Steve had stored those pictures somewhere, but you weren't worried about them anymore. His obvious obsession with you would keep him from showing photos of you naked with his cock buried inside your wet cunt to the hilt. You could walk away now, yet everything wasn't as easy as before. Steve made sure to gain trust of your parents, pretending to be the perfect caring boyfriend to you and just a very good guy to everyone else. He also made you meet his parents who turned out to be surprisingly nice, nothing like their son. Steve's mother Sarah took an immediate liking to you and often sent you a huge piece of her famous raspberry pie. It was a highlight of your day when Steve handed it to you during lunch. If you broke up with him now, you were sure he'd make up some story where you were the one to blame, and it would make your life even more miserable.

"Why are we doing this, Steve?" You asked him quietly as he played with a lock of your shiny hair. When be looked back at you, you realized he knew what you were talking about.

"What do you mean?" He grunted in return.

"You know this can't last forever." You said, your voice tired. "There are only a few months left before the graduation."

You were still stroking his hair as he bit down on his plump lower lip, his eyes not leaving your face as he stared down at you from above. There was something unsettling in his gaze, something dark, even scary, but you refused to be afraid of his temper tantrums.

"We're applying to different colleges, and they're not close to each other. How do you think we can keep... this going?"

Steve struggled for words, and you saw he was getting frustrated. It was odd - he liked to use aggression as his shield, rarely showing his vulnerable side to anyone and barking off whatever accusation you threw at him. Yet here you were, looking at the guy who couldn't utter a word to answer a simple question.

Was it despair you saw on his pretty face?

"You can choose the same place, too."

"Are you joking? My family would have so sell our house to pay for my studies then." You let out a sigh.

"You can apply for a grant. With your grades it's not impossible."

"Steve, let's be realistic. You wanna go to Columbia University. Do you have any idea how many people are applying for a grant to study there?" You said and, seeing him getting more agitated, wrapped your hands around his muscular shoulders, reaching out to kiss him again.

He deepened the kiss immediately, swirling his tongue around yours and then licking the insides of your mouth when you mewled softly beneath him. The soft vibration against his lips made Steve shivered from pleasure. He spent a bit more time rolling the tip of his tongue all the way around yours and finally released you, dropping a kiss to your chin.

"If you can't make it, I'm going to apply to the same place as you." He whispered, and you felt his cock gradually getting harder. "I'm sure they'll be happy to take me."

"Steve, you're mad." You shaked your head. "What are your parents going to say? They want the best for y-"

"I don't care what they want, it's up to me to decide." The guy growled and bit your lower lip gently, lowering himself on top of you again. "You're my girl, and my girl is going with me. I still have those photos in case you forgot."

"Ah!"

You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers touched your overstimulated clit, rubbing it skillfully as you squirmed. Your mouth fell agape as you were left gasping for air, trapped under Steve's athletic figure. Moaning at his touch, you looked at him, feverish, getting aroused again, your hands caressing his back as he smiled at you. He loved when you were a blushing mess beneath him, crying out his name as you were orgasming. No one else got to see you like this.

"I know you were a good girl today, but I want some more. You can handle it, can't you?" The guy cooed in your ear. "Come on, kitten. Show me how you mewl with my cock inside you. You're gonna mewl for me, right? Do it. Now."

You did as he said when his fingers were slowely fucking your sloppy cunt, your core aching for his dick almost painfully. Mewling softly, you kissed him again, and Steve slammed into you, muffling your high-pitched cry with his mouth  as he started rocking his hips. It felt so good, so fucking good. A wail of pleasure ripped from your throat, and Steve grinned at you.

"You're such a good little kitten, Y/N. I think next time we won't go to a restaurant, I'm just gonna give you a cat bowl full of my cum. You're gonna lick it clean, yeah? You're gonna do that for me, dear?"

"Yes, yesss, Steve." You whined as you felt your pussy kissing the base of his cock with a lewd sound. Panting and moving with Steve, you already felt one more orgasm building up, your mouth open and drooling. "I'm a good kitten, I'm a good kitten... pleaseplease Steeeeve..."

He groaned at your words, speeding up gradually and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head: he was rubbing against your g-spot to make your pussy milk his balls dry. Of, he fucking loved seeing that stupid expression on your face when you came, completely helpless, dependent on him to give you pleasure no one else could.

Steve was the one and only who could make you like this. Who the hell cared what his friends or parents said if he could hear you moaning his name beneath him whenever he liked? You were becoming more and more accepting, clinging to him when others were to mock you in public, spreading your legs for him when he cornered you in your or his own room. You grew to enjoy obeying him like a good girl you were, and Steve was going to keep you, finally, after all those long years of waiting.

He would make sure you never left his sight again.

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@lovelydarkdaydream

[smutsonian]

f*** being friends

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve is in love with his friend but he doesn't want to ruin their friendship

Warnings: mentions of copulation, making out (it gets heated), jealous steve, awkward steve, lil bit of angst, brief mentions of being bullied (verbally), mentions of game of thrones, i’m hoping for this to be really sweet and fluffy that y’all get diabetes in a healthy way, writing mistakes bby

Characters: Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov, Erik Lehnsher (xmen), Cisco Ramon (the flash)

Word Count: 6.5k yikes

an: i have no idea where those characters came from but they’re there. also, hi! im posting something lmao shocker :o ctto of this picture

masterlist

The supersoldier who woke up in the wrong century would’ve been going through a whole lot of hell alone if it wasn’t for the cute scientist who was considerate and patient with him in helping him adjust to his new surroundings after the time-hopping incident. Fury took him to the tower that was owned by the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist (as he likes to be called) after he tried to run through the streets of the modernized city of New York with his bare feet and that’s where he met her.

 The female scientist contrasted Tony Stark so much that it made Steve wonder how Tony even managed to get someone like her to be his assistant scientist. Steve didn’t have to wonder about how you were able to handle Tony because he was a hundred percent sure that you will be able to get along with anyone because you’re… you.

 While Tony was an obnoxious guy who likes mocking him, you were nothing but sweet to him. Going out of your way to make him feel comfortable and show him how time has changed the past. You taught him everything he should know and anything he wanted to know and in return, he bestowed you stories from his time before, during, and after the war and the supersoldier serum. 

 When you told him embarrassing stories about Tony and confessed that you sometimes get vexed by your boss that resulted in you ‘accidentally’ making one of his suits dance crazily while he’s in it, you and Steve shared a laugh and thus, started a genuine friendship.

Tony groans dramatically when he sees Steve giggling at his assistant while they’re making something in the kitchen. He walks over to them and knocks on the counter to catch the pair’s attention before giving them a faux smile. “As much as I love seeing capsicle giggling like a halfwit, I’m gonna have to ask you to stop stealing my assistant. We’re in the middle of discovering what must be the most important information in the world and you’re out here stealing her for shits and giggles.” Tony looks at the captain with a stern look before noticing your dramatic eye roll. “Hey-” he was about to chastise you when you cut him off.

 “Tony, learning how to bake chocolate chip cookies isn’t the most important thing in the world but I admire you for asking me for help for the sake of Morgan. But please, stop being so dramatic.” you chuckle at the end of your complaint. Tony bites his lip as Steve looks at you with such fondness without you even noticing it and he doesn’t know if he should feel sorry for the love-struck captain or be annoyed at how stupid and juvenile he was being. Just ask the girl out, goddammit.

 You turn to look at Steve before sighing, “Well, duty calls.” you shrug and smile at Steve when he reaches a hand towards your face to fix a stray hair away from your face. You stood frozen, staring at his ocean eyes that were staring right back at you before he started blinking and looked away. “Alright. I’ll see you later?” he asks as he looks back at you and you nod at him with a smile before walking past Tony. Tony rolls his eyes at Steve before pointing at him. “You clearly have it bad for her, cap. Why don’t you do us all a favor and just ask her out?” 

 Steve gawks at Tony, his face tinting a tiny shade of red before shaking his head. “What are you talking about? We’re just really good friends, Stark. I don’t even want to have this conversation with you.” Steve’s jaw clenches before he too walks out of the kitchen.

 Good friends my ass. Tony shakes his head in disbelief, smirking to himself. This is going to be fun.

  Some members of the team were in the kitchen, elbows on the counter, and tired out of their minds. Sam has his head on the counter, Natasha was taking a bite out of her sandwich every now and then, and Clint was slurping the milk from his cereal bowl. There was a mission the day before and everyone was showing how much it took a lot out of them.

 Y/N was putting whipped cream on top of the iced chocolate drink she made when Steve walked in. His face showed how tired he is but it quickly lightened up when he saw Y/N grinning at him with the iced chocolate. Steve made his way towards her and sat beside her, watching her put colorful sprinkles on the whipped cream before sliding the glass in front of him.

 “There ya go! Made with love and all.” she laughs at her own joke and Steve grins at her before taking a sip, earning a mustache made of whipped cream. “So good” Steve closes his eyes as he moans dramatically, making Y/N laugh even more. When Steve looks back at Y/N, she chuckles at him before making a motion towards the space between her nose and her upper lip.

 “What?” Steve smiles as he tilts his head to the side.

 “Here, let me…” Y/N gets a tissue before leaning towards Steve’s face and gently wiping the whipped cream off his face. God only knows how much I want to kiss his whipped cream covered lips. 

 Steve stared at her face, heart fluttering at the closeness of her face and gulps when he sees her looking back at his eyes. Those eyes will be the death of me. I wonder if she’ll look at me like that when I’m giving it to her good. 

 He watches as her eyes flutter towards his lips and then back to his eyes before he’s leaning closer to her face, his lips almost brushing against hers. Fuck.

 A bang interrupted them and they quickly pulled away from each other, awkwardly trying to compose themselves. Bucky seats beside Sam who was glaring at him. “You just have to stroll in here, you armless shithead.” 

 “Not cool, dude.” Clint chuckles before dumping his bowl at the sink. Natasha just sighs before taking another bite off her sandwich. 

 Y/N’s ears perked up when Sam’s words registered to her brain. Armless shithead. 

 She turns to look at Bucky before cursing under her breath. “Oh gosh, Bucky. I’m so sorry! Your arm reattachment scheduled this morning completely slipped out of my mind. Oh god. I’ll bring it up here now. Just give me a sec.” Y/N stumbles out of her chair, earning a concerned look from Steve who held his hand out just in case the fidgeting scientist falls. Y/N successfully runs out of the kitchen unharmed, leaving two supersoldiers confused.

 “What’d I do?” Bucky asks Sam who just shakes his head at him. Nat did the same thing as Sam did when Bucky turned to look at her. Steve still stared at the door that Y/N left in, thinking about how he almost kissed her and realizing how stupid he was. He could have ruined their friendship right then and there. She was so jumpy and awkward right after too. She probably got spooked by his actions. 

 “Why the constipated face, capsicle.” As if he wasn’t suffering enough, Tony enters the kitchen with a smug smile. “Barnes ruined his chances of kissing the little scientist.” Sam scoffed as Bucky gasped. “Oh shit. Sorry, punk. I didn’t know you were making moves already. Thought you would never do it. Sorry for ruining the moment. You’ll get—” Bucky’s teasing words were cut off by Steve’s booming voice. “Will you all just stop it?! We’re just friends. Stop pushing it. I don’t see her that way so please, just stop. We’re friends and that’s that.” Just as Steve’s speech was ending, a flustered Y/N walked in with a huge box. She walks over to Bucky and starts fumbling with his arm.

 Steve curses under his breath as he realized that she just heard his ‘confession’ and it’s not exactly what he wanted her to know. It’s exactly the contrary to what he’s feeling. He wants to be more than just her friend but he didn’t have the guts to do something about it. He also didn’t want to ruin the beautiful friendship that they already have. Relationships are too complicated and he couldn’t risk losing you just because of his stupid feelings. 

 “There! All done!” Y/N smiles at Bucky and Steve finds himself yearning for her to smile at him like that every-fucking-time. Bucky thanks her and winks at her that made Steve’s insides boil with something he didn’t have an idea about. Y/N picks the box up before walking over to Tony who was standing beside Steve. Right before she gets in front of Tony, she slips and before she knew it, her face was falling down the floor- only to be stopped mid-air as firm arms found their way to her waist and her shoulders.

 She was hoisted up and was met with Steve’s face just inches away from hers. “I got you.” Steve smiles.

 Y/N coughed and pulled herself away, making Steve’s smile flutter ever so slightly. “Umm, thanks. I gotta get back to work.” She smiles at him before turning towards Tony and starting a topic about their current topic about using vibranium as something he didn’t have an idea about. He sighed in disappointment as he realized how he managed to fuck up his friendship with her by trying to preserve it. How does that even happen to someone?

 “Is it just me or does the supersoldier serum affect the brain badly?” Sam pipes up after Y/N leaves the room to go back to the lab. Bucky elbows his ribs in response while Tony laughs at Sam’s words.

 “It’s just Steve who’s being an idiot. Don’t drag me into his lack of brain cells” Bucky muttered under his breath. Tony pats Steve on his shoulder before leaning up to his ear to whisper something.

 “Just friends, huh?”

Steve was nervous that you would bail on your weekly movie nights with him in his room where the two of you will watch movies that he missed while he was frozen. His nerves were getting the best of him until you knocked on his door only to greet him with a huge smile and arms full of snacks that were almost covering your face. “Movie night?” Steve swore that your giddy voice sounded like angels singing.

 Steve felt his heart flutter at the sight before shaking his head back to reality and easily grabbing the snacks out of your arms and setting it down on the foot of his bed. You skipped over to the bed and plopped yourself on it before looking at Steve with a raised eyebrow. 

“So… What are we watching tonight?” The anticipation in your voice made Steve smile before scratching the back of his neck.

 “Can we continue the game of thrones?” He asks and Y/N thought that him blushing was the cutest thing in the world so she couldn’t do anything but to nod. I mean, how could anyone say no to that face?

 You opened up a bag of chips while Steve tinkered with the tv attached to the wall in front of the bed. As the opening song started playing, Steve hopped on the bed beside you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn before laying on his back beside you and scooched closer to you. You smiled at that and laid your head softly on his shoulder which he seemed to like because he chuckled before stealing a piece of chip in your bag. You playfully glared at him as he only booped your nose in return, laughing when some powder from the chips were left on the tip of your nose. He leaned closer to your face, pausing for a while before blowing the powder residues on your nose. You felt your heart skip for a moment before turning back to the tv as the show continued to play.

 The room was dark with only the tv being the source of light but it’s enough for you to watch Steve’s every reaction to the show that you’ve already watched yet willing to rewatch it as long as it was with Steve. He was in one of the earlier episodes where Danaerys was betrothed to Khal Drogo. The tv was playing the scene where Danaerys’ handmaid was teaching her how to make love to Drogo. Your body warmed up at the scene, remembering how graphic this series can be and turned slowly to see Steve’s reaction. You expected him to be fidgety and awkward but he seemed to be really focused at the tv screen so you turned your head back towards the screen and continued to watch.

 Steve was trying his best to not have a panic attack right then and there. The scene was making him flustered and the effects of it were going straight to his crotch. He saw you move your head to watch his reaction but he did his best to act nonchalant and he was so relieved when you looked away from him that he almost cried. He thanked all the gods when the scene ended but his eyes widened when the screen showed Khal Drogo entering the tent butt naked and heading straight to Danaerys. When the man started ramming into her, Steve knew that he was fucked.

 Y/N nostrils flared in embarrassment as she watched the screen as it showed a very erotic scene. She turned her head sneakily to see Steve’s reaction once again but was surprised to see that he was already looking at her, their faces just an inch apart. 

 She looked at Steve’s eyes and was shocked to see that they were darker than usual, pupils dilated and his breathing erratic. She stared at him for a brief second before asking if he’s okay, genuinely concerned for the supersoldier. 

 “Steve, are you ok—” Y/N thought that she could’ve died right then and there when Steve closed the space between their lips and kissed her hungrily. Steve’s lips were so soft against her and when he plunged his tongue into her mouth, she almost came right then and there. This was how she’s deeply, madly, and hopelessly in love with the man. 

 Steve couldn’t explain the feeling he felt when she kissed him back. He could almost hear the wedding bells ringing when she moved her hands to caress both sides of his face. He placed the bowl of popcorn beside her head before placing his hands on her waist, easily manipulating her body so he was on top of her as he continued to kiss her lips like a starved animal.

 Steve felt her hands traveling up to his hair as she arched her back. Steve’s eyes went to the back of his head when she felt her grinding against his hard-on and he was thankful that her mouth was on his so she was able to swallow his moans. He responded by grinding his hips down against hers, earning a tug on his hair and a whine from her lips that made his eyes snap open in shock. Shit. 

 Steve stumbled as he quickly pulled away from her, knocking the popcorn by her head off the bed and making popcorn scatter all over the floor. “Shit” Steve looks at the mess on the floor and back to you, lips plumper after his assault. “Shit” he says again. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers. “Shit, Y/N. I’m so sorry! I didn’t—” He cuts himself by cursing at himself again and again.

 Y/N pushes the hurt she’s feeling at the moment. What was he about to say? That he didn’t mean any of it to happen? 

 She places a hand on Steve’s left cheek and it seemed to immediately calm him down. “Breathe, Steve. It’s okay. Everything’s fine.” You smile at him which he returns sadly.

 “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I was just… I don’t know what got into me.” Steve stuttered, almost crying. That’s not how he wanted it to come out.

 Y/N looks at Steve with a faux smile. Ouch. Saw that one coming but it still hurt like a motherfu—

 “I shouldn’t have done that.” Steve shakes his head. 

 Y/N gives Steve an understanding nod. And here I thought things couldn’t get uglier.

 “I mean… I don’t want to ruin what we have. Our friendship, I mean. I love being friends with you and I love what we have and I don’t want to ruin that because of me.” Steve tries to explain. Keyword: tries. “I mean you’re obviously the most gorgeous person in the world but I don't want to lose what we have just because of a kiss or a ruined relationship, do you get what I’m saying?” Steve looks at you hopefully. Clearly, he’s not very good at explaining things but you nod nonetheless.

 “I totally understand. I mean… I’ll be more than fine to try things out with you but I understand where you’re getting from. I wouldn’t want to lose what we have either. I guess being friends is the best idea for you.” Steve flinches at your words. Your tone was sweet but your words were hurting him and it’s his own fault too so that just frustrated him even more. 

 “How about we forget about what just happened and stay as good friends, deal?” Y/N gives him a friendly smile. How the hell is he supposed to just forget about what happened. That was easily the best thing that’s happened in his life and he drove the woman he loves the most to tell him to just forget about it.

 “Deal.” Steve smiles. I am a fucking idiot. I managed to put myself in the ‘friendzone’. 

 Y/N nods and starts to head for the door before looking over her shoulder towards Steve.

 “Goodnight, Steve.” And then she was gone.

 Steve’s smile fell and he turned around to study the mess left behind. Popcorn all over the floor, game of thrones playing on the screen, and a very hard cock under his pants.

 Fuck

That was it for Steve. He knew he fucked everything up when he barely saw you and talked to you anymore. When you no longer made him the usual iced chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles that you always made him, it broke his heart. But what really broke his heart is when you started skipping out on your movie nights with him. He’s beginning to think that you’re spending extra hours in the lab with Tony just to avoid him and it did horrible things to his heart.  Y/N cursed at the turn of events. She hated how the movie night incident turned out but she was ready to make things go back to normal but of course, Tony decided to overload her with work. She didn’t blame him though. They were at the peak of their research and they’re almost done with it and Tony wouldn’t stop until they finished. Y/N stayed to help her mentor/boss until they got to finish the work. She couldn’t deny the fact that she too is excited about the outcome of the research so she kept herself busy.

  She saw how it affected Steve though. She saw how his face would light up every time he would catch her taking quick snacks in the kitchen but she would watch that handsome smile disappear from his face when she waved at him to say goodbye and run back to the lab just to continue on her work. She knew that Steve being Steve, he would blame himself for it so she made a little bit of time to explain how things are currently hectic in the lab.

  Steve felt a little bit of weight lifted from his shoulders when she approached him after training one afternoon. She handed him his shield as she talked about a few changes and improvements she did here and there. He was so happy that she was finally talking to him again that he couldn’t help but just admire the way her lips moved and her eyes looked at him with a glint of excitement as she talked about his shield.

  “Steve?” Her smooth voice brought him back to reality and he smiled at her adoringly, patting her shoulder awkwardly before thanking her for the improvements she did on his shield. “I just want to point out that I’m not avoiding you.” Y/N bit her upper lip as she looked at Steve shyly. Steve thought that she could never be more adorable than this.

  “Tony and I are working on this research and we’re both really working our asses off. We’re so hellbent on finishing the research so we’re always working on it over time. I just… I don’t want you to think that I’m avoiding you.” She finished with a breath. 

  Steve looked down at her, processing her words before breaking off into a grin. He leaned down to give her a hug which she gladly returned before pulling away. Steve cursed at himself for immediately missing the way she felt against him. 

  Steve lets out a loud sigh before smiling at her. “Thank, god. I thought I scared you away.”

  “Never” she grinned before looking down at her wristwatch. “Well, I gotta head back to the lab” she gives him a smile before offering him a handshake, saying “Friends?”

  Steve bit the insides of his cheeks as he remembered the position he put himself in. 

  He gripped her small hand with his big ones before nodding. “Friends.”

  Y/N thought that the day she and Tony get to finish their research would never come but here’s Tony now, planning a party for the achievement. He’s also telling you something about introducing and showing you off to an old friend of his that he invited. Max Eisenhardt, you heard Tony say. He was a fellow scientist who specialized in magnets and Tony can’t wait to show him your research about vibranium.

Steve finds Y/N in the kitchen a few hours before the party starts, making her famous iced chocolate milk. “Do my eyes deceive me or is that my most favorite chocolate drink in the world?” Steve walks over to her, placing his elbows on top of her head before placing his chin on them. “Congratulations on finishing the research, Y/N. I’m really proud of you.” He sincerely says and he watches her duck under his arms and looks at him with a playful smile. “Thank you, Steve.” She makes a move to fix her hair before looking back at the glass. “And yes. This is your favorite drink” she winks at him.

“Well, not to be presumptuous or anything but… is it for me?” Steve bites his bottom lip as she pretends to think about it before nodding. “Of course, it is! It’s been so long since I made you one so I figured I’ll make you one before the party starts.” She grins at him before handing him the glass which he gleefully takes before drinking it, not minding the whipped cream that stained his nose and his lips. 

 Steve’s heart leaps in joy when he hears her laugh at him before handing him a towel. “Clean yourself up, captain. I’ll see you later at the party.” She waves at him before leaving the kitchen. Steve would’ve preferred it if she was the one wiping his face but he settled with cleaning his face on his own.

You settled on wearing black slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a pair of black flats. Tony mentioned something about introducing you to his scientist friends so you figured that a formal attire would suffice. You were barely starting on fixing your hair when Tony barged in. He took a quick look at you before smirking and dragging you out of your room and into the elevator. 

 “What the hell, Mr. Stark. I wasn’t done—”

 “You already look amazing. Cap will definitely lose it.” Tony smirks at you and before you could even say something, the elevator door opens. He gently pushes you out of the elevator before pulling you towards a middle-aged man who smiled at you immediately when he saw Tony dragging you towards him.

 “That’s Max Eisenhardt” Tony whispers to your ear before pushing you towards the guy. You stopped yourself from falling onto Max and he was nice enough to steady you by placing both of his hands on your arms. “You okay?” He gently spoke with an accent you couldn’t quite name.

 Y/N cursed at Tony in her mind for putting her in this situation. She manages to give the man a smile before nodding flusteredly. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Max. I’m Y/N. Mr. Stark’s lab assistant.” Y/N offered a hand for him to shake but he quickly shook his head. 

 “No need for formalities. Call me Erik or Magneto.” He reached for your outstretched hand and pulled on it until you fell onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around you before chuckling and pulling away. You gave him an awkward smile before nodding and sneakily walking away when he and Tony started talking about magnets and whatnot.

 Steve’s blood boiled when he watched the interaction between one of Tony’s friends who calls himself Magneto and Y/N. The way he shamelessly grabbed you and flirted with you made Steve think of horrible things on how to dismantle a man’s arm. He hated this feeling. He was so sure that he’s jealous. He knows that he’s jealous.

 Tony somehow managed to push you towards Magnet—or was it Magneto? Max? Erik?— every time he would find you hiding from the guy and you managed to sneak away every time as well. He seemed like a really nice man but he could learn a thing or two about taking hints. She politely rejected him five times already and he still hasn’t given up yet. Y/N just have another guy in her mind and possibly her heart so she couldn’t be bothered by any other person. She’s got eyes on Steve and him alone.

 Steve felt so proud and giddy whenever you would politely dismiss this Magneto guy’s advances on you. He would watch as you would shake your head with a smile before leaving the guy. He enjoyed watching the guy get rejected over and over again but at the same time, he hated seeing you so uncomfortable. 

 Steve couldn’t do anything but watch as Tony introduced you to a bunch of other threats scientists. He was doing his best to remain calm but when he saw you smiling and getting cozy with one of the younger scientists, he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t do anything and he didn’t have the right to be jealous so what the hell would he do? He also couldn’t just stay and watch as another guy wins her heart.

 Steve settled on ditching the party.

 “Y/N, is that you?” A familiar yet strange voice spoke up from behind her as she was ducking behind a wall, avoiding a certain scientist. 

 Y/N felt like the angels above blessed her when she saw a familiar face when she turned to look at where the voice came from. “Cisco?! Is that really you?” The smaller man with long hair nodded while grinning at her. He spread his arms to his sides before saying, “The one and only!” 

 Y/N couldn’t help but squeal and jump on her heels as she jumped into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could. She knew Cisco from freshman year in college up until they got their own jobs in very well known industries. “Oh my god, it’s been so long!” 

 The two continued to talk and catch up with each other’s lives until a point where Cisco bid his friend farewell saying something about needing to be home for his family.

 Y/N tries to look for the one person she wants to be with but fails to see his face at the party so she decides to look for him at the compound before a certain Magnet named scientist comes for her again.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Y/N groans as she closes Steve’s door. She frowned at him before asking, “Why’d you leave the party?” 

 Steve closed his eyes before letting out an exasperated sigh. “The atmosphere was becoming a little too much for me” he gives her a cheeky smile, patting the spot beside him on the bed. Y/N happily plops herself down beside him before nodding. “Yeah. Tony’s really good at being too much with his parties. Also, I think his friend got mad at me” 

 Steve frowned at that. “Magneto?” his face reddens when he sees her watching him, probably wondering how he knew the scientist. She’s probably thinking how much of a creep I am and how I was watching her the whole time. 

 Much to Steve’s relief, she chuckles under her breath before shaking her head. “So that’s his name! I understand why he got so annoyed now!” Y/N laughs and Steve just watches her with a smile on his face. 

 “Why? What happened?” Steve asks, praying to god that no asshole tried to hurt you. “I kept calling him Magnet instead of Magneto...” Y/N watches Steve as he lets out a laugh, his eyes closing, and little wrinkles forming at the sides of his eyes. Why is he so beautiful?

 “Tony seemed determined to push that guy to me though…” Y/N stares off into the distance and Steve managed to get all the confidence he could get to ask. “Seems like he was trying to set you up with a lot of his scientist friends.” he chuckles but it was so dry, he was scared that she might see how annoyed he was with the idea.

 Y/N tilts her head and looks at him with furrowed eyebrows and at that moment, Steve felt his heartache for not having the guts to just ask the woman in front of her out. How can she manage to make his heart feel like this every single time?

 “What do you mean? Magneto’s the only guy he’s setting me up with” Y/N’s voice cuts Steve's internal battle with himself. 

 “What about that guy with the long hair… I think his name was Cisco?” Steve pretends to not know his name but in all honesty, he’d done every research on the guy as soon as he got to his room.

 “Oh! Cisco!” Y/N’s face lights up at the mention of her friend’s name and Steve felt his heart break a little at her excitement. “He’s an old friend from college. He’s a very nice guy.” Y/N starts and Steve prepares himself for the heartbreak that’s inevitable.

 “We were both freshmen and I used to get bullied by this group of guys. You would think that being in college would stop all the stereotypes and all that but no. These guys would always torment me just because they can but then Cisco, I didn’t know him yet, stood up for me. Even though he was much smaller than the guys and is completely outnumbered, he still fought them and instead of me being bullied, it was us two getting all the torment. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.” Y/N laughs at the end of her story, remembering the event in her mind. 

 Steve’s blood boiled at the thought of people bullying you. If there is anything that he hates the most, it was bullies. As much as he tried to hate this Cisco friend of yours, he genuinely sounds like a nice guy. Kind of reminds him of himself.

 “I can’t believe how we both turned out to be. We’re both scientists now but it looks like he’s doing much better than I am.” Y/N looks down and shakes her head with a smile.

 “What do you mean? If you ask me, I think you’re doing a hell of a job!” Steve’s voice cracks a little and he couldn’t help but blush as Y/N looks up at him with a smirk.

 “I know. I’m working for Tony Stark, for goodness sake. It’s just Cisco is living the complete package of adulthood. Being married, having kids, and all that.” Y/N sighs, standing up from the bed before moving towards the door.

 Oh… Oh!

 Steve stood up from the bed as fast as he could, walking towards her with determination. 

 “Woah, Steve. I’m just going to get some snacks—” Y/N stops talking as Steve pulls out a small velvet box from his slacks and hands it to her. 

 “I uhh… Congratulations on the research, Y/N. I’m really proud of you.” he guides her hands to open the box, revealing a vintage necklace with a scarlet gemstone.

 “Steve… You honestly didn’t have to.” Y/N admires the necklace before running her fingers against the red stone. Steve takes the necklace and moves to stand behind her. “May I?” He asks her to which she quickly nodded.

 Steve stared at Y/N and admired how she managed to look ethereal with or without the necklace. “You know… I bought that necklace for you a few months after I met you.” This was it. Steve couldn’t keep his feelings from her anymore. He might regret it later but at least he got to tell her how he really feels.

 “You did?” Y/N whispers under her breath as she looks up at Steve when he tilts her chin up with his fingers.

 “When you were tasked to babysit me, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how you were so understanding. The way you were so patient with me. The way your eyes lit up each time you would tell stories about something you’re passionate about.” Steve gulps before continuing, “I knew I was fucked when you laughed at one of my lame jokes. I remember how angelic your voice sounded and how everything seemed to disappear and all I could see was your face.”

 Y/N stared at Steve with hooded eyes. It felt like she was in a dream. She watched how his eyes glossed and watched him breathe through his lips before he leaned closer to her, lips barely touching.

 “What about being friends?” Y/N watches him as he bites his bottom lip.

 “Fuck being friends” he breaks the distance and kisses her with determination. One of his hands finds its way to her back while the other cradles her face, pulling her closer to him as if he didn’t want any space between them. 

 Y/N’s hands find their way towards the back of his neck, pulling him closer with the same determination. They didn’t pull away from each other until they needed to breathe. 

 Steve goes back in for another kiss, guiding her back to the bed and positioning himself on top of her.

 Their night was just getting started and wouldn’t end any time soon.

  Steve stared at you while you peacefully slept beside him. You looked otherworldly wearing nothing but the necklace he gave to you, rays of sunshine hitting parts of your skin, and his blanket laying on top of your body. He decided then and there that he will always want to wake up to this view. He wants to wake up every day with you beside him. He smiled at the idea. 

 His cheeks tinted red when he remembered how you looked on top of him and how you looked under him. How you became breathless because of him and how your body squirmed under his touch. Just the thought of you makes his cock spring back to life. It doesn’t help that you’re currently staring at him with a small smile and tired eyes. 

 “You’re awake!” Steve breathes out, eyes widening a little.

 “Good morning to you too” Y/N chuckles at Steve's reaction before turning to look at the ceiling.

 “You’re beautiful, you know that?” Steve leans down to kiss your lips, then your nose,  and then your forehead. You smile up at him before kissing his lips.

 “So we’re not friends anymore?” Y/N raises an eyebrow at him before giving him a cheeky smile.

 “I want to do this the right way.” Steve watches Y/N tilt her head in confusion.

 “Let me take you out on a date,” Steve asks. 

 “I think you got your sequence a bit mixed up, Steve.” Y/N grins and Steve retorts with showering her face with kisses making her giggle under him.

 “Okay! Okay! I’ll go on a date with you on one condition.” Y/N straightens up before staring at him seriously.

 “Anything” Steve responds immediately.

 “I’ll go on a date with you if you agree to become my boyfriend” Y/N gives him a toothy smile.

 “I will gladly be your boyfriend… I guess I’m not the only one who got the sequence of dating all messed up, huh?” Steve teases her and she just laughs in return, taking Steve’s dress shirt from the floor and putting it on. It was big on her so it fell just above her knees and she rolled the huge sleeves up to her forearms.

 Steve admires her in his clothes. Another view that he would always want to see. He stands from the bed only to pull her body on top of him as he lays back on the bed.

 “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.” Steve’s voice was deep and sincere and he loved how her body responded to his voice.

 “I’ll only leave you when you no longer want me but I’ll still be there to watch over you. I’ll always be there when you need me.” Steve turned her body around so now they were chest to chest.

 “I don’t think that’s possible.” Y/N watches Steve as he furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

 “I will never not want you. Besides, I got it bad for you just as you got it bad for me.” Y/N leans her face closer to his, pressing her forehead against his. 

 “How do you know that?” Steve smiles as he looks at her lips before looking back at her eyes.

 “Because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go as well.” Y/N grins before pressing a kiss on his lips and him immediately responding to the kiss by pulling her body closer to his. A kiss that sealed their relationship because they were no longer just friends.

[catharrington]

ohhH pleasee do no.13 " This wasn’t meant to be a date, but we’ve had such a good time and now it’s 2 a.m. and I should really go home…" <3<3

Simply.

The movie ticked off. The VCR making an autable click as the tape ground to an actual stop inside the machine. The credits rolling out to pure black. And Steve was caught watching his own reflection simply looking back at him.

Next to him, not an arms length away on the Harrington’s fancy imported sectional, was Billy. Just sitting. One arm draped over the back of the couch and the other holding to the top of a can of beer. Holding the top, maybe in theory, as it was teetering back and forth on this thigh. His hand mostly resting across the metal lip more than actually balancing it. Billy himself was dozing off. Steve could tell his eyes half closed and each blink he takes slowly.

It’s intoxicating to watch those lashes flutter in slow motion. Those lips jutting outwards with the concentration of staying awake. His grown out long and only getting longer hair messy across Steve’s mother’s sofa.

Steve just blinks and looks down. Turns his eyes away.

It’s been three months sense July, three grueling surgeries and hours and hours of physical therapy. Some still lingering with their fake smiles and government mandated visits. Billy has survived, against the mind flayer’s will. Against the American government, against himself. He simply lived.

Steve had to convince him to keep living, in so many words. Because when he woke up in that hospital room he seemed disappointed more than anything. Annoyed, secondly, at the cute nurse fiddling with the flowers at his bedside table.

Enough midnight visits and shared cigarettes illegally smoked in front of an open window earned Steve the knowledge that Billy wasn’t annoyed, per say, at the nurse. More so annoyed she was a she. And Steve blushed and looked down at that.

Billy mused about Steve in a little nurse uniform, “all that leg would be criminal, Harrington”, and if he hadn’t just escaped death Steve might have pushed him out the window.

But it was simply a game. It was a friendship blooming in the easiest way two boys can, by bullying each other. Billy found himself in a purgatory. Some recovering neither here nor there quarantine that left him alone most days. And Steve was alone every night. So they became friends.

Steve watched as Billy’s beer can made a spinning turn and almost spill over his sweat pants, but it manages to balance itself out right before landing.

It’s two in the morning. And the movie is over. The television hissing electricity into the air with no more film to play. The popcorn is at the bottom of the bowl. And the beer is room temperature.

Steve should get up and flick off the tv. Shake Billy awake and drive him back home. Back to the room he admits he can’t stomach. Told Steve one night he shuffles around in the dark. Wears the same clothes. Can’t fucking take looking at that bed where he sat waiting to kill so many people.

That night Steve reached out and ran a hand through Billy’s hair. Felt him stiffen up like he wanted to move away. But he never did. They laid across the hospital bed that was too narrow for two growing teenage boys. Billy’s hair looked awfully dark against the clean white sheets. Steve focused on it, working out the knots, scratching his scalp, feeling how soft his hair remained even after death and hairspray.

He pretended to not see the way Billy cried.

And maybe, Billy was pretending not to notice the way Steve’s got such a dumb look on his face. How Steve should be moving up to turn off the tv. Maybe, Billy was allowing the night to continue just for a bit longer.

Maybe Billy was allowing this linger because he didn’t want to go home, wanted to avoid the cold, the monsters, the memories. But more so he didn’t want to leave Steve.

Their eyes met in the reflection of the black tv screen. Billy’s still half closed. His head leaned back very James Dean cool. Steve’s more wide, watching, searching for what’s to come next.

Billy turns to him. His hair squishing over his shoulder, making the curls more prominent. And the beer on his lap moving but not spilling. Steve turns too, his own hair close enough to touch Billy’s arm.

So Steve lets his hair touch, sighs out as he relaxes back onto his couch. His highlights grown out with a lack of upkeep. Too much time spent visiting the hospital and no energy left for the salon chair. He nuzzles his head for comforts sake into the plush backing. Into Billy’s out stretched arm. Right at the wrist where the sleeve of his old Hawkins High physical education pullover rides up. Let’s Steve’s hair tickle a couple inches of Billy’s delicate wrist.

Billy hadn’t been in town long enough to have an old sweater from Hawkins High. Steve brought him a bag of clothes, chucked it at his chest with the hole still slowly growing closed, grumbled a distant, “gotta keep warm, California, cant die from the flu or this whole saving the world thing won’t mean much.” A blush on his face.

Now Billy was looking at him. And Steve was still blushing but he was looking back. He gently leaned forward and took the beer from Billy’s hand. Let it drop to his thigh with a soft thud, Steve setting the metal can on the table with a muffled click. Billy smirked at him. Could be a smile if it wasn’t Billy’s face making it.

“Stay the night?” Steve asked. Blinking.

Billy sucked in a breath through his nose and back out. “Think I can’t make it back? I’m good-,”

“Stay the night?” Steve tried again.

Billy huffed a low chuckle that shook the whole couch. He had lost almost all his muscles from bodybuilding to the recovery, but he still mananged to take up so much space. “Just want to get me alone, pretty boy? All you gotta do is ask?” Dripping with sarcasm.

Steve shrugged one shoulder. Nuzzled his head to press more deliberately against Billy’s arm. “I’m asking, dipshit, for you to stay the night.”

There’s a tick of silence. Billy’s blue eyes surveying over his like he’s going to find a lie. Like he’s going to find a motive. And sure, Steve might be selfish in looking for company. But he knows Billy needs it as much as he does. Damn, maybe more. So Steve keeps his eyes on Billy’s. His struggle with eye contact seems to get lost when it’s those eyes.

“Sure thing, Stevie,” Billy whispers. Finally, his smirk softening to only one side of his face. And his eyes blinking slowly then again and staying closed. Like he trusted Steve enough to sleep right in front of him. To be vulnerable right in front of him.

Steve knew he should be getting up to get blankets and pillows for the couch they’ll be sleeping on that night, but he simply sat for a little longer.

[outsiderslamb]

Overheated

Ao3 Link

Darry has to confront his own anger issues to be a better friend and brother.

 (2791 words)

(Tw for yelling, panic attacks and talks of abuse)

@naturallesbain @therealsehinton @hellsfanatic @cammie @chaotically-cas

Darry’s aching muscles screamed in protest as he hauled himself out of his chair. His body was still heavy with sweat and exhaustion from his shift, and he did not have the time to lay down. It was getting late and if he didn’t make dinner for these kids then nobody else would.

Lumbering to the kitchen, every utensil, and pot he held felt heavy in his hands. He nearly spilled the soup as he poured it from the can to the pot. Looking out the window, the sun was setting quicker than usual the later it got into the year, so Darry figured he’d call them in for supper early, as it would not be long for the soup to be done.

Heaving to the door, he called everyone in from their game of football. He did a quick headcount to see how many of his adopted family he’d need to feed tonight (anyone not there at the moment would either stop by later or had found a place for the night). There were Ponyboy and Sodapop of course, then Steve and Johnny. That made four, but he’d make a little extra to refrigerate in case anybody else stopped by.

“Hey, hey, y’all get your shoes off now,” Darry ordered as Steve and Ponyboy didn’t seem to get the memo after countless reminders. Telling them once should have been enough, Darry thought as he gritted his teeth.

“Ain’t even that dirty,” Steve replied, infuriatingly. Darry was too tired for this.

“Just get them off.” Darry couldn’t help the bite to his tone. It didn’t bother Steve too much, who just shucked them off and went to talk to Sodapop, but Darry could feel a tension in the room; even as nobody was showing it.

Nobody except Johnny, who Darry noticed was starting to fidget in place. He suddenly stood up and in the most forced-friendly way Darry had ever seen, trotted over to the kitchen. “Here, you need help?” Johnny asked, smiling as though somebody had a gun to his head.

Darry gave a little huff, he would much rather cook alone right now despite usually loving Johnny’s help, but it’d be rude to turn the little guy away. “Yeah.” he gritted out.

As they got to work, Johnny’s presence in that cramped space felt like a barrier. When the younger boy got close to the counter to pour another can of soup into the pot, the noise of sloshing made Darry feel sick.

“I think this would taste better if I added pepper,” Johnny said, standing up on his tip-toes to see into the bowl. “You have any?” he asked.

Darry gave a jerky nod. “Yeah,” he groaned, “In the cupboard,” He then turned back to heating up the stove.

Behind him, he heard Sodapop laughing. “Woah, hey Johnnycakes you tryna crack your skull open?”

Johnny’s reply was a snap “Not my fault y’all won’t invest in a step-stool.”

Darry turned to see Johnny precariously balancing on the countertop, multiple spices gathered up in his thin arms.

“Oi, Johnny!” Darry yelped, bolting to the countertop and grabbing Johnny by the waist. “I outta put you in a helmet if you’re gonna pull this shit, Jesus Christ kid!” he lifted the boy off the counter and held him in the air.

Johnny’s legs kicked a bit where they hovered off the ground, shrinking in embarrassment as Sodapop and Steve burst out laughing.

“Ah c’mon Darry, he couldn’t reach,” Ponyboy called sympathetically.

“Oh I know you ain’t talking, little man, after you snapped your arm like a twig climbing around like that,” Darry growled in response.

Ponyboy looked incredulous. “Yeah when I was six, and my arm didn’t even break it just bruised like a peach.”

“Can I get down now?” Came Johnny’s groan before Darry could come up with some kind of retort.

Darry wasn’t thinking, he just opened his arms and expected Johnny to sort himself out. Of course, Johnny fell like a sack of bricks, and so did the spices.

“Ouch!”

Darry looked down and saw Johnny trying to pick up everything he dropped, he couldn’t help feeling bad. “Sorry,” he grunted, probably not sounding very sorry at all.

“Ain’t no reason to drop him!” Steve stood up, great, another person yelling.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Johnny said, looking more annoyed than actually hurt as he set the spices on the counter and got back to work.

Steve sat back down reluctantly upon seeing that the only thing Darry had bruised was Johnny’s pride. But Sodapop didn’t seem like he wanted to let this situation simmer down.

“Dar’ I think you ought to hit the hay for now.” Said Sodapop, his sympathy sounding a lot like condescension right now.

“I’m just fine, thank you.” Darry snapped back, Sodapop shrank in response, funny he didn’t sound too angry in his head.

He tensed up his sore muscles upon feeling a small finger tap on his shoulder, whipping around way too fast he saw Johnny looking up at him with a worried expression.

“Darry you really need to go take a shower and get some rest, I think you’ve had it hard enough today,” he said nervously.

“I’m busy,” Darry grunted back.

“I can finish dinner,” Johnny offered, “I’ve been cooking for myself for years and-”

“Leave me be, I’m fine.”

“Oh you clearly aren’t, don’t lie to me.”

Darry growled, taking a quick step closer before he could stop himself.

“I SAID LEAVE ME BE!”

Darry had lost his usually tight grip on his temper at that moment. Nobody yells at Johnny in this house, because they all know that he gets enough of it at home. You’d have to be a monster to know what he goes through and still put him through.

Johnny’s face darkened, his eyes wide and he took a step back. Looking closer, Darry realized that fuck he was shaking.

“Shit. Johnnycakes I’m so-” Darry tried but Johnny turned quickly before anyone could see his reaction and walked out the door.

Darry remembered a night a few months ago when he’d snapped like this with Ponyboy, only that time he’d hit him. Darry never thought he’d forgive himself, and he’d been working on controlling his anger for a while. Darry cringed at the thought that he could have hit Johnny or any of his other adopted brothers.

Darry tried to follow, but Sodapop stood up and put a hand on his chest. “Take our advice. Please.” He said, looking tired and disappointed but not angry.

Darry took a step back and headed for the shower. He needed to cool down before anything else.

Johnny couldn’t think of anything as he sat on the porch, knees hugged up close to his chest. His mind was completely static as he stared into nothing, heart racing and breath coming out in ragged gasps.

He shouldn’t have reacted that way. Darry was just frustrated and he dealt with people yelling at him all the time at home. He shouldn’t be such a damned pansy, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t hear the door open or any footsteps when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Johnny jerked upwards, eyes huge, but then realized it was just Sodapop.

“Hey, buddy,” came Sodapop’s soft voice, his hand rubbing Johnny’s shoulder through his thick jacket. “Easy now, breath with me.”

Johnny felt Sodapop slide in next to him, wrapping both arms tight around Johnny’s much smaller frame, pulling his friend in close to his chest. Johnny burrowed his face into Sodapop’s shirt, as though it would give him some sort of anonymity while he tried to calm himself down. Tears soaked into the dark fabric.

“I-I usually don’t re… usually don’t react like this.” Johnny cried softly, getting a good hold on his breathing, which was good as he was alrighty starting to get light-headed.

“Its okay, honey, nobody thinks any less of you. Darry’s probably beating himself up over this,” Sodapop reassured, rubbing Johnny’s back. “Buddy, I know something else is going on. You extra stressed? Had a bad day?”

Johnny gave a wobbly sigh, the tears finally slowing. He willed his voice to not waver, “Dad had today off,” was all he needed to say.

Sodapop sighed deeply, honey-colored brows furrowing. Johnny knew how much everyone in his patch-work family wanted to stick it to his biological parents, but he couldn’t let that happen.

“Are you hurt at all?” Sodapop asked after a moment of composing himself. “We have plenty of ice, what, with all the fights our idiots like getting into,” Sodapop smirked and ruffled Johnny’s fluffy hair.

“Golly, Sodapop, y’all don’t have to do that.” Johnny wiped his eyes with his sleeve, face still flushed from crying.

“Don’t you worry about it, little buddy,” Sodapop said, “I do wish you would tell me when the bastard’s hurt you,” Sodapop pulled Johnny closer to him, “You don’t have to make an announcement or nothin’, like when one of the jackasses gets into a fight, just come to me or Darry or anybody else you feel safe with.”

Johnny thought about that. He was used to having to heal his wounds in private, as he hated the whole deal everybody would make out of it when he came in with a black-eye or bruises on his arm.

“Thank you,” Johnny finally said, then with a still-shaky hand, tugged back a tuft of curly black hair to show the swelling bruise at the corner of his forehead. “I got pushed over, hit my head on the corner of the counter,” he said. This, as bad as it was, was on the more mild side of the things Johnny had endured.

Sodapop cringed, his warm brown eyes glowing with sadness. “Oh Johnnycakes,” he reached out and gently touched his friend’s cheek. Johnny did not flinch away. “Let’s get some ice on that.”

Johnny nodded, a pang of guilt hitting him. Sodapop was clearly troubled by this, Johnny should not be finding joy in his friend’s reaction to his pain.

“Hey, did dinner just get left on the stove?” he asked, remembering that he’d dropped everything to run outside.

Sodapop shook his head, seeming to cheer up a little. “Nup, Ponyboy and Steve-o are on it.”

Johnny blanched. “We better hurry back then…” Sodapop seemed to agree.

Upon entering the house, Johnny was greeted by loud arguing coming from the kitchen, (Of course, he’d expected no less) and the faint hissing of the shower in the background.

“Put the goddamn ladle down, this shit ain’t done!” Steve barked at Ponyboy, who was trying to taste the steaming cauldron on the stove.

“I’m trying to see what we need to add.” Ponyboy defended himself, pulling out a scoop of the thick liquid and taking a slurp without even blowing on it. He nearly dropped the ladle and yelped, running to the sink to run his tongue under cool water while Steve guffawed.

“What's it need, mr. Chef sir?” Steve teased organizing the spices on the countertop.

“It probably needs to cool, given Horseboy’s caterwauling.” Johnny chided, trotting into the kitchen, he was well aware that his face was probably still red from crying.

Steve turned to Johnny with surprise, then cracked one of his gap-toothed grins. “Hey, little chiefs feelin’ better,” he said, setting the cinnamon down to screw up Johnny’s hair.

Ponyboy tried to say something from the sink, but it was muffled by the sound of running water. Johnny smiled at him, “Yeah, I’m doing better now. Move over, I gotta help you guys.”

Sodapop cleared his throat from the couch, reminding Johnny that he still needed to get the ice. Johnny nodded to him. “I’ll do it after I’m done with this disaster.”

Darry turned off the water, feeling the cold chill of the surrounding air hit him fast as he was no longer being pelted with steaming hot water.

He toweled off and headed to his bedroom to get dressed, but not before stopping to listen by the door; He counted two voices. It sounded like Steve and Ponyboy were trying to cook. That thought horrified him and he had to resist the urge to run out in nothing but a towel to make sure they didn’t burn the house down. But when Johnny’s voice joined them, he knew the crisis had been averted.

Oh.

For a moment he’d nearly forgotten what had recently transpired. He knew he technically should follow Sodapop’s advice and get some sleep before trying to fix his mess, but there's no way he could sleep with this weighing on his mind.

As he got dressed, he kept listening. Johnny’s voice was… normal. It didn’t sound too wet or too upset, that forcefully cheery attitude from earlier was completely gone. He sounded fine.

Darry thought about that. Johnny would force a smile and his voice would rise in pitch sometimes during times of conflict. But only ever during an infight in the gang. It was strange because he clearly wasn’t like that all the time, but then it hit Darry; that was his way of diffusing situations.

That only made him feel more guilty. Johnny was trying to fix the situation, and he’d gone and yelled at him. Darry wanted to hide but knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. He was going to make this right.

He finished buttoning up his new shirt and stepped out into the living area.

Upon stepping outside, he saw that Steve and Ponyboy were sitting on the couch with the TV playing, but they were arguing with Johnny and Sodapop, who were both in the kitchen fixing dinner.

“I’m perfectly capable! I ain’t the one here who pressed my whole hand on the stove!” Steve shouted at Sodapop, who was pointing a wooden spoon at him.

“That was ONCE when I was SIX, Steven Lucas Randle!” Sodapop bit back, ouch, full name, never good.

“He’s done more stupid stuff if you want examples.” Ponyboy piped up from where he was curled up in the corner of the couch.

“See, Baby Horse agrees with me,” Steve said one of the rare times he’d side with the kid.

“What the hell did I walk into?” Darry groaned light-heartedly from the hallway.

There was a moment of tense silence where everybody turned to look at him. Though it only lasted a heartbeat, Darry still felt as though he could cut the tension with a knife.

“Civil war.” Said Johnny from the kitchen, finally. “We banished them for their foolishness and now they’re trying to reclaim their territory.” with that, the tension in the room eased.

Darry let out the breath he didn’t notice he was holding. “Hey Johnnycakes, how are you feeling?”

Johnny set the ladle back in the soup and trotted over to Darry, nobody said a word as the two looked at each other.

“I’m better.” Johnny looked a little nervous, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Just…” He took a deep breath. “Had a bad day, so I overreacted.”

“Oh, Johnny, I was the one who overreacted,” Darry said softly, reaching out to Johnny to touch his shoulder, but staying his hand before he could out of fear the boy would flinch from his touch. “I’m so sorry.”

Johnny sighed, looking away. Darry could almost see the way his heartbeat in his chest. But then, he crossed the gap between them and pushed his forehead against Darry’s chest, wrapping his thin arms around the man.

Darry froze instantly, he was not expecting this at all. Before he could hesitate anymore, he wrapped Johnny up in his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” He kept whispering, feeling as though he would cry. Fuck, he couldn’t cry right here in front of everybody. In truth, Darry felt like he’d failed Johnny. He’d promised him over and over again that he’d keep him safe, then he’d gone and acted like the very person putting Johnny in danger.

He remembered Ponyboy’s face when he struck him that night and the misery that had come with knowing that he, his brother’s GUARDIAN for fucks sake, had just turned on him.

“I’ll do better,” Darry vowed into Johnny’s ear, voice soft and cracking with tears. “I promise.”

Johnny sighed shakily, pressing back. “I know, I’m not afraid of you I promise. You can act big n’ tough but you don’t scare me.”

Darry chuckled a little bit, only letting go when Johnny did. With that, the tension in the room was absolved.

“Hey teddy bear, dinners ready,” Sodapop called from the kitchen, and Darry sighed, feeling a weight lifted from his chest.

“Be right there to help, Pepsi-cola.”

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Eccentricity [Chapter 9: Now I Love Your Shadow And I Love Your Curls]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: “Til I Die” by Parsonsfield. 

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sex, violence, and drug use.

Word Count: 7.6k.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @maggieroseevans​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @escabell​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​ @deacyblues​ @tensecondvacation​ @brianssixpence​ @some-major-ishues​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @youngpastafanmug​ @simonedk​

Field Trip

“You want to go to Chicago with me?”                

I coughed, having almost inhaled a chunk of pineapple off my slice of GrubHubbed pizza. We were sitting on the grass outside Forks And Spoons under the shade of the maple trees, which were turning from jade to ruby to amber to fool’s gold, rejoining the earth they once rose from one fallen leaf at a time. It hadn’t rained in almost four days—was that some kind of record?!—and the leaves littering the ground crunched when I stepped on them, which I did purposefully and often. The breeze was soft and whispery and temperate. I could get used to this whole having actual seasons thing. “What, in like a hypothetical, at some point in my life kind of way?”

Joe smiled. His U Chicago hoodie of the day was black. “No, as in this weekend.”

“Really?”

“The Cubs have a game on Saturday, and it’s supposed to be rainy and overcast the whole time, and I just thought...” He shrugged, toying with a piece of pizza crust before tossing it to the squirrels. He’s nervous, I realized. How the hell do I have the ability to make the sexy undead Italian man nervous? “It might be nice for us to be able to get away for a few days. Away from my family. Away from Charlie. Not that I don’t appreciate the ambient noise of his snoring from the living room couch, it’s super endearing, I seriously consider dating him instead of you at least twice a week.”

“Go for it. Charlie could use a rich husband. His pension is pathetic.”

“You wouldn’t miss me?”

“I am not necessarily opposed to clandestinely seducing my sugar daddy stepdad should the occasion arise.”

Joe crossed himself like a nun passing tattooed, cursing, lip-pierced teenagers on the sidewalk. “Lord, protect me from this harlot.”

A weekend away. No Charlie, no constant and chaotic whirlwind of Lees, no Ben. I hadn’t spoken to Ben since our misadventure in the Lee kitchen; if he wasn’t avoiding me of his own volition, he was following orders to stay away. Joe claimed that they’d talked it out. I wasn’t sure if I believed him. “I accept your invitation. Although, truthfully, I’d rather get hit by a bus than watch an entire real-life, no-commercial-breaks baseball game.”

“I accept your acceptance. And I’ll throw in a visit to the Shedd Aquarium, just for you. They have baby sea otters.”

“Sweet.” I checked my iPhone. “I’m gonna be late for Chemistry.”

“Anything fun planned?”

“We’re doing a lab involving hydrochloric acid. I’m highly concerned that Ben will accidentally spill some on himself. The miraculous instantaneous healing thing might raise a few questions.”

“Hm,” Joe replied. But he wasn’t looking at me; he was looking at my bandaged hand. And he wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Joe, I’m fine.”

“Yeah.” He took a preoccupied swig of his Dr. Pepper. Solemnity never seemed right on him; it was like he was wearing somebody else’s skin. “You’ve mentioned that.”

“Hey. Mob guy.”

Now his eyes flicked to mine.                              

“No more sad spaghetti.”

“Okay.” He surrendered, took my face in his hands, gave me a kiss on each cheek and then one quick parting peck on the forehead. “You win. I’m not sad. I’m ecstatic, actually. I’m gonna be eating my weight in hotdogs and mustard-slathered pretzels on Saturday. What’s there not to be ecstatic about?”

“The fact that your license says you’re only twenty and consequently can’t get a beer?”

Joe blinked, remembering. “Fuck.”

I drained my Diet Coke, flung my pizza crust to the skittering grey squirrels—no eerie albino forest friends today—and pulled on my backpack. “See ya. Have an awesome time in Game Theory.”

“Thanks, I probably won’t!” he chimed, waving, grinning compliantly; and yet did I still sense some lingering menace of disquiet, of fear? I suspected I did. Chicago would cure everything.

Ben tensed when I walked into Professor Belvin’s classroom, ran his fingers through his unruly blond hair, peered fixedly down at his notebook and feigned obliviousness. There was already a metal tray of Erlenmeyer flasks, labeled bottles of solutions, burettes, goggles, gloves, and an unassembled ring stand crowding our small table by the open window. Autumn air poured in like seawater through cracks in the hull of a ship.

“Guess who’s gonna see the Cubs play up close and personal this Saturday?” I announced.

He pretended to have just noticed me. “...You...? But that doesn’t sound like you.”

“It was Joe’s idea. I’m acting like I’m not totally thrilled and freaking out about it, but I am. Don’t tell him.”

Now Ben was the one staring at my bandaged hand. His green eyes were large and unfocused.

“I’m fine,” I insisted.  

“Sure,” Ben returned noncommittally.

I started skimming through the packet of lab instructions and setting up our titration experiment as Professor Belvin circulated through the classroom, observing, commenting, offering suggestions and critiques. My wounded hand—still sore in the lull between Advil doses and relatively useless—was quite the embarrassing hinderance; I fumbled with a large glass flask and almost dropped it.

Ben shook his head and reached out to stop me. “Here, oh my god, this is so pitiful, sit down. Please sit down. I’ll set it up. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks.” I peeked at his notebook. “Your handwriting is atrocious. Haven’t you had like a century to work on that?”

“Penmanship was never at the top of my to-do list, tragically.”

“What language is that, anyway?” The phrases scrawled in black ink in Ben’s notebook definitely weren’t English. Or Italian. “Elvish? Are you a lowkey Lord Of The Rings fan? Magic and self-sacrifice and nearly insurmountable evil, I could see that being your thing.”

He smirked, struggling with the ring stand. “It’s Welsh.”

“Welsh,” I repeated, perplexed. “Welsh...like how Gwil is Welsh?”

“Precisely.”

Professor Belvin checked in on us, nodded in approval, reminded me that I was always welcome to stop by at bowling league activities, and resumed his wandering.

“Gwil still speaks it,” Ben continued. “The rest of them speak it too. At least enough for basic communication.”

“I didn’t know,” I said, fascinated, examining the long, unfamiliar words riddled with Ls and Ws and Cs. “But that must be very useful.”

“It is. Welsh is nearly a dead language at this point. It’s like talking in code. I always refused to learn it on principle...or maybe I was just being difficult. I would study other languages, Arabic, Japanese...but not Welsh. That was always Gwil’s language. Their language. It was a Lee thing. But now...”

“Now you’re sort of a Lee too,” I finished for him, smiling.

“Whatever,” Ben said, hiding behind his bangs.

I watched him as he at last tamed the ring stand, secured the burette, placed the Erlenmeyer flask. Then he began reading the labels on the solution bottles. “Guess what else.”

“What, Baby Swan?”

I grinned, showing off my unremarkable, entirely benign human teeth. “I’ll bring you back your very own U Chicago hoodie.”

That night, after a pleasantly prosaic dinner with Charlie—burgers, one veggie and one of the conventional variety, and milkshakes at Danny’s Diner—I started packing a small, Arizona-sky-blue suitcase as sparse raindrops pattered against the roof and moonlight streamed in through the open window. Then I ticked off my mental inventory.

“Jeans, sweaters, pajamas, socks...”

I pawed through the top drawer of my old, scratched dresser—the same one that had once upon a time been Renee’s—and contemplated the bra and panty options. Would my theme be comfort and practicality, or feral impenitent seductress? Friday and Saturday in Chicago would be our first nights alone together. That had to be significant, right? After some deliberation, I gathered a handful of lacy, transparent, and/or exceptionally skimpy lingerie from Victoria’s Secret that Jessica had more or less forced upon me during a shopping trip in Port Angeles last month. As I dropped them into the open suitcase, I glanced up to see the albino owl outside my open bedroom window.

“You never know,” I told the owl, shrugging.

It leered judgmentally back at me with those gory red eyes.

“Oh shut up. How many eggs have you laid in your lifetime, Casper The Unfriendly Ghost? Probably like a bazillion. Freaking feathery trollop.”

The owl had nothing to offer in its own defense.

“Why don’t you ever come around when Joe’s here? I’m sure he’d love to meet you. He’s pale and weird too. Although I like his eyes a little better than yours. No offense, Snowflake.”

The owl blinked, tilted its gaze at me, ruffled its feathers and sent the raindrops that had gathered there flying in every direction.

I slid my iPhone out of my back pocket, spun around, and snapped a quick selfie with the owl in the background. “Say cheese, Marshmallow!”

The owl immediately unfurled its wings and flapped off into the trees, vanishing.

“Huh. I guess homegirl is camera shy.” I texted my selfie to Archer, typing out with my thumbs: I am the Steve Irwin of Forks. Behold, one of my many forest friends.

Archer replied a few minutes later: WOW! Pasty and mildly disturbing. Exactly your type. :)

“Yours too, apparently,” I murmured, smiling in my empty room.

I went to my full-length mirror with the plastic, teal-colored border, briefly appraised my reflection, felt a dull swell of approval for what I saw there. The version of myself that had once been so consumed by fears of inadequacy seemed impossibly far away, maybe even fictitious, a dream so vivid I could mistake it for truth. Three things were taped across the top of the mirror: Joe’s Official Citation!! No More Sad Spaghetti!! post-it, his Official Whatever You Want Pass, and a photo of us dressed up together and standing in front of the limo in the Lees’ driveway just before the Calawah University Homecoming dance. I peeled off the Official Whatever You Want Pass, carefully folded it into a neat little square, and tucked it into my wallet.

When the rain began to pour and thunder rolled in off the Pacific Ocean, I closed my bedroom window; but I remembered to leave it unlocked for Joe.

Departure

“Got your license?”

“Yes, Dad,” Joe sighed.

“Got your airport snacks?”

Joe held up the gallon-sized Ziploc bag filled with pumpkin and white chocolate chip cookies. “We’re ready to rock.”

“Call me when you get there safe,” Mercy fretted, hugging me and then Joe. “And Joseph, sweetheart, you make sure you keep an eye on her. She’s never been to Chicago before, it’s a big city, and O’Hare is an absolute nightmare, it’s so easy to get lost...”

“I don’t think he needs any reminders, love.” Dr. Lee laid a hand on her shoulder, stroked his neatly-trimmed beard with the other, watched us with a vague and wistful smile.

Mercy went back to trimming the flowers she had spread out across the kitchen countertop, white calla lilies that she threaded one by one into a translucent sapphire blue vase. “Now don’t forget to say goodbye to your brother. He’s out back feeding the new ducks. And I expect these ones to stick around for a while, thank you very much.”

“Mom, I don’t need to say goodbye to Rami. I’ll just think it. Really loudly.” Joe rubbed his temples with his fingertips and squeezed his eyes shut. “Peace out, you nosy bastard.”

“Joseph,” Mercy pleaded.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go say goodbye. Don’t get all aggressive. Don’t take it out on the flowers.” Aggressive...what a joke. I doubted that Mercy Eleanor Lee, formerly Martin, had a single aggressive bone in her immortal body; not even the infinitesimal stapes of her inner ears or the sesamoids of her feet.

“They’re calla lilies,” she replied dreamily, tending them like children. “And they symbolize love, and beauty, and fidelity...”

My nostrils itched and burned faintly in dissent. “I think I’m allergic to them.”

“You’re allergic to fidelity?” Joe asked, raising his eyebrows. “That’s it, now you’re definitely not getting my reclaimed virginity. No ma’am. I am not hit-it-and-quit-it material.”

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Mercy murmured.

“I’m going,” Joe said, showing his palms in capitulation and disappearing out the back door. I dragged my suitcase to the front one, politely declining Mercy and Gwil’s offers to help.

Lucy—her bleached hair in a high half-ponytail and wearing polka-dotted black tights, combat boots, a plaid miniskirt, and an extremely Octoberish orange sweater—was sitting cross-legged on the roof of Gwil’s Volvo. God, he’s such a dad. “Have a nice time,” she chirped artfully.

I opened the hatch of Joe’s Subaru and threw my suitcase inside. “Why do you sound like you already know I will?”

“I might have some relevant clairvoyant insight.”

“No way.” I stared up at her, stunned, my hands on my waist. “But you can’t see me, right...?”

“True. But this vision wasn’t of you. It was of Joe. You just happened to be there.”

Interesting. Very interesting. “And what transpired in this vision?” A night full of hot, steamy, blissful vampire sex? A girl could dream.

Lucy closed her eyes, recalling it fondly, maybe even cherishing it. “You were sitting in the stands of a professional baseball game. I could hear the crowd roaring, the umpire’s trumpeting interruptions. Blue and white...everyone was wearing blue and white. And you were there together—Joe a vampire, you human, side by side, almost entwined—shouting to each other over the thunderous noise and laughing and pushing nuggets of soft pretzels into each other’s mouths. So happy. I’d never seen Joe so happy.” Her striking pale eyes came open. “And he’s someone who’s already rather prone to happiness, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“I have,” I agreed.

“He’s never been serious about anybody else. I hope you know that.”

“I know that’s what he tells me.”

“It’s the truth,” Lucy insisted. “I would know if it wasn’t. Rami would know, Ben would know. Joe...he’s kind of the opposite of you. He’s always been the easiest to read. He’s the one Rami hears most loudly, the one who shows up most often in my visions. He’s clear, you know? Uncomplicated. Authentic. And what you mean to him...it’s something everybody sees. It’s a contagious sort of lightness, of joy. So thank you for that.”

And if whatever mysterious genetic switch that renders me immune to your talents wasn’t flipped, I’m pretty sure I’d look the same way. “I should definitely be thanking you,” I said. “You guys have a pretty cool existence going on here. And I’m so grateful to be invited into it.” For however long this lasts, anyway.

“None of us really invited you,” Lucy demurred. “We just let it happen.”

“So everyone knew I was coming? Because you saw it?”

“Everyone but Joe.”

“You never told him?”

“No. Not even now.” Lucy turned sharply towards the trees, as if she heard something in the soaring western hemlocks that swayed drunkenly in the wind. After a moment, she continued. “I’m not sure if I can even explain why. It wasn’t that I feared changing the timeline or something...my visions always come true regardless. Always. But I guess...” She tugged on her short half-ponytail, pondering. “I guess I didn’t want to cloud any of his decision-making, any of his emotions with the specter of the inevitable. I wanted whatever he felt for you to be completely organic. And it is.”

I considered her. “You are extremely thoughtful for someone who spends as much time shopping as you do.”

Lucy laughed in a high-pitched, almost juvenile trill, netting her fingers beneath her chin, her elbows resting on her bent knees. “I do like to shop. I didn’t always though.” She peered off into the trees again, this time pensively. “Did Joe tell you anything about my life before Gwil saved me?”

“Aside from the copious hippie jokes, not really.”

She nodded, her eyes far-away and still lost in the forest. “Gwil and Mercy are inordinately wonderful people. My biological father and mother, unfortunately, were not. And maybe they couldn’t help it, because from what I understand their parents were monsters too. I don’t think of them very often now, not even to resent them. But when I was alive I burned with it, with all that hatred, with all that bitterness. Every bruise was another log on the fire. Every screaming match or hurled plate was a splash of gasoline. So I ran away and found what I fancied to be a new family, and I lived on basement couches and out of vans and in abandoned buildings, and I explored increasingly inventive ways of putting that fire out.”

The October breeze cascaded through the trees, carrying echoes of birdsong and disembodied distant voices and the scent of pine. It reminded me of Joe.

“Chemically speaking,” Lucy said, “that first hit of heroin, that first high...it’s the best you’ll ever feel in your entire life. Nothing else will ever compare. Not skydiving, not backpacking through Southeast Asia on some Pulitzer-prize-winning journey of self-discovery, not winning the lottery, not the births of your children, not falling in love. And once you accept that, what’s the point in stopping? Everything you ever experience will live in the shadow of that needle. You’re twenty-five and you’ve already seen the endgame. You’re born, you suffer, you catch a glimpse of paradise, you pay bills and push shopping carts down the aisles of grocery stores and insipidly smile your way through your husband’s work parties until you die. What’s the fucking point? So I didn’t stop shooting heroin. And the whole time, I knew it was killing me. That’s what they don’t tell kids when they force them to make those idiotic classroom promises to never do drugs. You know it’s killing you, but you don’t care. Because it feels so goddamn good. Because it becomes the only sliver of your existence that doesn’t cut like glass beneath your skin. Sometimes you love things so much you let them kill you, isn’t that ridiculous?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer her; still, I heard my own voice: “Yes, it is.”

“It took dying for me to see that life is worth living. That there’s magic in the mundane and the frivolous. And that there’s beauty everywhere if you bother to look for it.” Lucy uncrossed her trim legs, leapt gracefully off the Volvo, and—with definite but not unkind scrutiny—pulled at the collar of my thrift shop sweater. “Even in your very, very, very misguided fashion preferences.”

The front door of the Lee house swung open, and Joe jogged out, carrying his suitcase. Gwil, Mercy, Scarlett, Rami, and Ben appeared on the porch to wave us off.

“What’d you do?!” Joe demanded, pointing at Lucy.

“Nothing,” she quipped.

“You guys gotta stop doing this!” Joe exclaimed. “You know what you’re doing, you know exactly what you’re doing, you gotta stop cornering people and forcing them to listen to your creepy tragic backstories! Nobody freaking asked!”

Lucy chuckled patiently and stood on her tiptoes to hug him goodbye. “Have fun.”

“You know it.” Joe tossed his suitcase into the Subaru and opened the driver’s door. “Ready, Baby Swan?”

“Almost.”

I walked to the wrap-around porch, climbed the steps, held my hand out to Ben. My stitches had almost completely dissolved over the past week, and the clunky impediment of bandages was no more. Joe crossed his arms and watched from beside the Subaru with an uneasy frown, but he didn’t try to stop me. He nodded to Rami, so subtly I almost didn’t notice. Rami nodded back.

“I will miss your melodramatic brooding immensely,” I told Ben. “Please do some fun family stuff while we’re gone. I’ll see you soon. Dan eich bendith.”

“Dan eich bendith,” he replied, taken aback. And then, after a moment’s hesitation, he ignored my outstretched hand and embraced me, his grasp so strong and yet so careful. His scent like crisp leaves and salted caramel and autumn sieved into a bottle unfolded in my lungs like an opened book.

“I Googled that especially for you,” I whispered. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m in awe.” His words were characteristically sardonic, but I heard warmth in them as well. When Ben pulled away, I saw that everyone else was smiling. Mercy had tears in her eyes.

I retreated back down the porch steps and met Joe by the Subaru. “Okay, mob guy. I’m good.”

He slid on his sunglasses, shook his head, flashed a proud and toothy grin. “You definitely are.”

All the way down Route 101 to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, we listened to Joe’s classic rock mixtapes and my NOAA Ocean Podcast episodes, reviewed the weekend itinerary, ran through the bare essentials for me to understand an MLB game (“Which I am totally not excited about whatsoever,” I informed Joe, who knew enough not to believe me).

When the Boeing 747 ascended above the clouds and unimpeded sunlight poured in from the other passengers’ windows, Joe put on a black sleeping mask over his sunglasses and reclined his seat, tried to nap, passed the time until he would be safe beneath the curtains of the sky again.

Somewhere over the Dakotas, as I leafed through a book about the Great Barrier Reef for my Marine Botany class, Joe’s hand bumped mine. “Hey,” he said drowsily, seriously; and I braced myself for some emotional declaration, some dire warning, some grave realization of the futility of what we agreed—almost always wordlessly, and yet unfailingly—was love.

“Yeah?”

“It’s an emergency.”

“Uh oh,” I replied, smiling now.

“Flag down the flight attendant and get some more of those honey roasted peanut packets,” Joe said. “I’m starving myself back to death over here.”

The Windy City

The bat cracked deafeningly against the baseball pitched at nearly a hundred miles per hour. It was a home run. The crowd erupted into mindless, primal shrieks of conquest; and when Joe jumped to his feet, clapping and cheering and nearly spilling his blue-and-white bucket of popcorn, I found that I did as well. I screamed for the team of a city I’d never lived in, sank back into my seat beside Joe, nestled against his chest as his right arm closed around my waist and hauled me in closer, as his left hand teased me with a soft pretzel nugget hovering just out of reach. And in that moment, I felt like Lucy, snatching Polaroids out of the space-time continuum of the present and the future and the past. There was where Joe and I were right now, of course; the day we had met each other in the nonfiction section of the Calawah University library; the dance floor at Homecoming; the first night he snuck soundlessly into my bedroom window; all those years we still had left to spend together. Not forever, but perhaps long enough.

“I like this baseball thing,” I told him over the roar of the crowd, twirling my fingers around the curling locks of dark hair that stuck out from under his Cubs cap. Or maybe I just like you.

“Whew, thank god.” Joe wiped his forehead with the back of his hand in mock relief. “Now I don’t have to break up with you.”

After the game—a 5-3 Cubs victory, close enough to keep the spectators’ blood pumping throughout—we boarded the L, held onto the metal railings as the packed train car bumped and swerved along, and disembarked in Little Italy. Historic brownstones were interrupted by a freckling of pizzerias, Italian ice stands, and sports bars spilling out shouts of triumph and despair. We were staying in the Four Seasons with a view of Lake Michigan; but we had an hour of daylight—albeit chilled, dreary, and forever threatening rain—left in our Saturday. Tomorrow would be the aquarium, and then dinner before catching our flight back to Seattle, back to the greenery and fog and eternal dampness that I was beginning to think of as my home. Had I really only left Phoenix two months ago? Had I ever really lived there at all?

“So,” Joe said as we walked under shedding green ash and black cherry trees, his arm draped across my shoulders. “Guess what the University of Chicago has. In addition to a killer Economics PhD program, which yours truly will be graduating from in approximately 2027, astonishingly aged not a single day. Maybe he’s born with it, maybe it’s Maybelline.”

“Hideous sweatshirts?” I guessed.

“One of the best Marine Biology departments in the world. And the affiliated Marine Biological Laboratory up in Massachusetts, where they send their PhDs to do research.”

“Wait, seriously?” I stopped abruptly, the heels of my boots squealing against the sidewalk. “You mean...for me?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, for my other girlfriend who is also inexplicably super obsessed with the ocean. I clearly have a type.”

“You want me...to come to Chicago...with you...after graduation? For like...a five to seven year commitment?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Well, that just sounds...serious.”

“Huh. What do you know. I guess we’re serious after all.” He took my hand and pulled me gently forward, leading me down West Taylor Street. He seemed to have a destination in mind.

“How is this going to work for you, anyway?” I asked, beaming uncontrollably now, trotting along beside him. “Living in a place that isn’t Washington or Scotland or Alaska?” Chicago was cold and cloudy for a lot of the year, true, but few cities were Forks-level wet and sunless. Forks-level tyrannically depressing, I would have said two months ago.  

He shrugged, unphased. “Night classes. Sunglasses. Faking a chronic illness so I don’t have to leave our house. I’m really good at that one. Plus I can get a doctor’s note any time I want one. I’ve got connections, you know.”

Our house. He said OUR house.

Joe came to halt in front of a stately yet plain brownstone which now operated as a trendy bookstore, the kind that sold six dollar lattes and hosted anarchist poetry slams on Friday nights.

“Is this where we’re going to crack hipsters’ kneecaps as a bonding activity?” I asked.

“This is where I grew up.”

I looked again, studying the earth-colored stone quarried over a century ago, the wrought iron railings that framed the front steps, the rectangular windows revealing the illumination and shadows of other families’ lives. “Joe,” I said softly, leaning into him, searching for my words.

“There were eight Mazzello kids: Joseph, Charles, Mimi, Salvador, Donna, Lucia, Bianca, and Giuliano.” He rattled them off like a jingle from a fast food commercial. “And I was the oldest. So when my dad dropped dead of a heart attack in the middle of his shift at the Zenith Radio factory, it was my job to step up and figure out how to keep everyone fed. I was seventeen and completely hopeless at school back then; Sal was always the smart one, the disciplined one, he ended up as a math professor at Loyola University. I was just some directionless, grieving kid who never shut up. But there was a place for boys like me in Chicago in the 1920s. The mob could get you money. The mob could turn that same incessant chatter that got you bruised at school into something useful. And the mob could give you a family.”

Joe watched the brownstone solemnly, meditatively, his hands in his pockets.

“My mom sobbed for an hour the first time I brought home an envelope full of bills with Hamilton’s face on them. She knew how I got it. But how could she say no, how could she tell me to stop? We’d never seen money like that. All my siblings could finish school. My sisters could have new dresses on days that weren’t Christmas and Easter, my brothers new shoes, Sal the glasses he needed so badly. My mother always had something to put in the offering plate at church. And once you were in the mob, it wasn’t exactly easy to leave. But they took care of their own. After I died, they sent my mother money for years, until her own children were established enough to support her. That’s when I learned that money wasn’t just something that put food on the dinner table or kept the lights on. It’s a way of showing loyalty, of giving people peace and comfort and meaningful choices in their lives. It’s how I’ve been taught to give back to the world. So I guess I shouldn’t have disparaged my fellow vampires back in Forks, because there’s a slice of my tragic backstory, Baby Swan. Now you know. And you should know everything, since we’re in this thing together. Or maybe I just want you to.”

I laid my palm against his cool and flawless face, ran my thumb lightly across his cheek. “You really are serious about me.”

“I am alarmingly serious about you.”

“Even though this thing of ours has an expiration date?” Since I can never become a vampire. Since I will never have the distinction of being a permanent fixture of the Lee coven.

“That’s not a problem for today. That’s a problem for ten or fifteen years from now, whenever you decide you want to settle down and have kids and do the whole Great American Dream bit. You’ll be sick of me by then anyway. You’ll be dying to get away from us. Hahaha, get it? It’s a pun. Dying to get away from the vampires.”

I couldn’t imagine ever being sick of Joseph Francis Mazzello. Still, ten or fifteen years felt almost as good as forever to me. Fifteen autumns, fifteen Christmases, fifteen journeys around the sun that he avoided so deftly. “Why me, Joe?” I asked, incredulous. “You could have anyone. Any human, any vampire. Why me?”

“Because you’re you,” he said simply. And his mystified dark eyes added: What kind of a question is that? “You’re smart and you’re hilarious and you actually care about the world, about where it came from, about where it’s going, about people and places and animals that you’ll never meet. You’re indomitable. You’re fearless almost to the point of recklessness. And yet you’re so kind. You’re even nice to Ben, and humans are never nice to him...they’re either horrified or confused, or they’re too busy fantasizing about him to remember that he’s a real fucking person. But you’ve always tried to see the good in him. Even when he didn’t deserve it.” Joe shook his head, marveling. “And yeah, I’ve...I’ve screwed around, full disclosure. I’ve done the hookup thing. And it was great for what it was. But I never wanted more. I never felt some gnawing, sentimental, Hallmark-channel need for connection, to understand who they were as people. And then I met you, and...I want to know every single goddamn thing about you. I want to know your favorite color, what books you read, what the hell is so appealing about pineapple pizza, what you dream of. I feel like I could never get tired of trying to understand you.”

A refrain circled through my mind like a whirlpool, dragging every other thought down into oblivion: I love him, I love him, I love him. “Blue,” I said at last.

“What?”

“Turquoise blue, like the sky in Arizona. That’s my favorite color.”

The smile, slow and wonderous, rippled across his face. He took my hand again. “Come on.”

Joe led me onwards, down a few blocks and around a corner, as the muted sun receded from the sky and the first stars took its place, pinpricks of celestial light in a blanket of violet, azure, amber, rust. He stopped in front of the Church of Saint Lawrence, established in 1902 according to the sign mounted on the brick wall that faced the street, perhaps the same church that he had once visited with his family as an impatient child, snickering with his brothers and sisters and kicking the back of the pew in front of him with shoes that never fit quite right. There was a fountain bubbling with transparent water, a statue of the Virgin Mary at the center, coins made of copper and nickel and zinc glinting through the water under corridors of silvery luminance cast by the streetlights.

“I lied about not having my own superpower,” Joe informed me mischievously, not at all serious.

“Oh, did you now?”

“Absolutely.” He opened his wallet, rooted around, pulled out a penny and handed it to me. “I can make wishes come true. So go ahead.” He nodded towards the fountain. “Make your wish.”

The penny was worn and nearly indecipherable, but I was just barely able to read that it had been minted in 1928. The same year Joe was turned. “Joe...I can’t just throw this away!”

“You’re not throwing it away. You’re exchanging it for a wish. Now wish.”

I closed my eyes, chose my wish, tossed the penny into the fountain. The plink it made when it hit the water was bright and yet mournful somehow, like windchimes, like flickering candlelight.

“Outstanding job,” Joe complimented.

He was so visibly proud, so content, so faultless. The streetlights threw shadows across the sidewalk, the fountain, the whole world it seemed. I laced my fingers behind his neck, gazing up at him. “What are we doing tonight, mob guy?”

“I’m so glad you asked. You see, we have options.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“Door Number One,” Joe began. “It’s been a long day, and you’re exhausted from the illustrious honor of witnessing a Cubs victory firsthand. So we go back to the hotel, find some shark documentary on tv, order room service, shower, and drift off into a peaceful slumber. Just like last night.”

“Not bad. How about Door Number Two?”

“Door Number Two. You’re tired, but not that tired. We go back to the hotel, find that same aforementioned shark documentary, but totally ignore it and make out instead. Maybe we even round second base, in the spirit of the Cubs. Whatever you’re up for. Then we shower and drift off into a peaceful slumber.”

“Even better,” I said, and I meant it. “And what’s Door Number Three?”

Now Joe became jittery; his eyes darted to the fountain, the church, the cars that rolled lazily by. He was so desperate to conceal his hope, to not impose any undue influence upon me. I felt infinitesimal, almost weightless drops of rain against my cheeks, my collarbones, the downy undersides of my arms. “Well, uh, Door Number Three is...it’s...well...uh...it’s...”

Door Number Three is a home fucking run. “I want Door Number Three.”

“Really? Because you don’t have to say that, you can say no, that’s completely fine, it’s more than fine actually, it’s awesome, it’s totally cool, I’m seriously fine either way, and you can obviously change your mind whenever—”

“Wait.” I broke away from him, yanked my own wallet out of my purse, found the Official Whatever You Want Pass, hastily unfolded it, and presented it to Joe. “I want Door Number Three.”

He barked out a shocked laugh, accepted the pass, studied it in disbelief. “You are full of surprises, ma’am. It took me a hundred years to find a woman like you. And I don’t think I ever will again. Makes one wonder if this whole eternity thing is all it’s cracked up to be.” He tucked the pass into his pocket and kissed me beneath the streetlights, beneath the stars. “So there’s one tiny caveat to my wish-granting superpower.”

“Yeah?”

He smiled impishly, nudging the tip of my nose with his. “You have to tell me what you wished for.” He was joking, as he almost always was; I didn’t have to tell him anything. He wouldn’t press the issue. I doubted that he was really expecting me to answer at all. And yet I wanted to tell Joe; I yearned, for once, to be as clear as Lucy had said he was.

“For you and me,” I replied in little more than a whisper. “And for forever.”

Home

The only thing that startled me was how profoundly unstartling it all was, how wholly uncomplicated, how effortless.

I didn’t feel like a different person afterwards. I didn’t feel that some latent spark of lust, of carnality had been ignited, had singed through me, had left me forever marked like the heights of children ticked off on a doorframe over decades; I felt neither ruined nor awakened, no wiser, no older, no more enlightened as to the incalculable eccentricities of the vast and enigmatic universe. I felt only happiness, and exhausted satisfaction, and a deep, dreamless peace that engulfed me like frothy fingertips of waves dragging pebbles and shells back into the sea. I felt only a homecoming that was measured not in miles but in soul.

We slept in as the morning sun rose over Lake Michigan, bought Ben a hoodie (black, of course, per his usual aesthetic) from the University of Chicago gift shop, strolled unhurriedly through the dimly-lit, relentlessly blue pathways of the Shedd Aquarium. As I stood in the glass tunnel and watched sawfish and blacktip reef sharks soar by overhead, Joe linked his arms around my waist, tucked his chin into the dip of my collarbone, kissed the slope of my jaw.

“What do you think?” he asked, perhaps a touch apprehensively. “Could you get used to the Chicago life for a few years?”

“I would be tempted to kidnap some of these guys and bring them home to live in our bathtub. But yes.”

And Joe murmured, smiling, his lips to my temple: “That’s illegal, ma’am.”

Our flight back to the West Coast took off after dusk, and there was no blinding sunlight for Joe to avoid; only immense glooms of clouds and gleaming distant stars and the unfathomable void of space, cursed with crushing pressure and darkness like the cervices of the ocean floor.

Fifteen years might not be enough, I thought, resting my forehead against the cold airplane window as the city lights died behind us, as Joe’s hand weaved through mine on the armrest. But forever sounds just about right.

Larkin

There once was a boy born in a stone cottage with a dirt floor in a vanishingly inconsequential village just west of Clifden, Ireland. It was February 9th, 1672, bitterly cold, miserably wet, and the sea was murderous with storms. His mother was illiterate, as her mother had been, and as her mother had been as well, all the way back to people who painted mammoths on cave walls with their fingers; she was thirty-three and already exhausted with living, her seven children forever underfoot, her full and ruddy cheeks perpetually smudged with dirt from the field and ashes from the fire. Her husband was a failure and a drunk, but half a day’s worth of work once or twice a week was better than none at all; and as much as she never would have admitted it, he was a tether for her in a world that was often, as she had learned, both lonely and cruel.

She gave the baby boy a name—a strong Irish name, none of that audacious English rubbish—that meant rough or fierce, just like the sea that rose and ruptured against the rocky cliffs outside. He would need to be rough to survive in this world. He would need to be fierce.

He began like all the other children had been: sweet and yet anonymous, yielding, needful, worryingly small. She rocked him absently with one arm as she stirred the stew pot with the other. She sang to him, told him stories long before he could comprehend them, tales of the Lord and the saints and all their malevolent adversaries: serpents, pestilence, demons, dragons. She tossed stray sticks to him so he could carve pictures into the dirt floor and keep out of the way as she labored with the laundry or the sewing. And he grew, and he grew; and there was nothing remarkable about him at all, that boy speckled with mud and soot and the perpetual bruises of children mostly left to their own devices, that boy with pallid skin like his mother’s and black hair like his father’s and eyes so light and vibrant a brown they were nearly gold.

The boy was a baby, and then a child, and then a young man. And his mother realized one day—all at once, as a mother does when their attention is divided among so many other lives, when the children’s analogous faces bleed into each other and even their names sometimes escape her, even those names that she had chosen herself from the stories her own mother once passed to her through threadbare whispers—that people had a habit of following him, of listening to him. That there was an ether of allure that hovered around him like the mists that clung to the precarious, crumbling cliffs that touched the sea; that there was something like what the heathens called magic. And when the war came, that boy who was no longer a boy left his mother’s stone cottage and enlisted in Clifden, lied about his age, signed his name with an X because that was all he knew how to spell. But he was sure to tell the man who handled the ledger that he did have a real name, a good Irish name, a name apt for a soldier, a name that his mother had told him meant rough or fierce: Larkin.

There are men who join wars out of loyalty, principle, love for their homes; and then there are men who join to escape their homes, perhaps to forget them entirely. If you were to consult that ledger signed in a pub in Clifden, Ireland in 1688, you would read that I fought for Ireland, for the Catholics, for Christ the Lord and all his saints. But what I really fought for was my own resurrection: to take that boy stained with dirt and ignorance, drown him in the blood of other mothers’ trivial sons, and dredge up some greater version of myself that I had always known existed, that was hidden somewhere in the netlike darkness of the marrow of my bones.

People follow me, and they always have. I couldn’t tell you why. When I called them to enlist, when I thrusted swords and pikes into their calloused farmers’ fists, when I told them they could fight and live to see their wretched homes again, they believed me. I climbed the ranks like a ladder, like a mountain made of bones. And all those other mothers’ sons laid down for me so I could walk across the bridge of their spines to what I mistakenly assumed was invincibility.

At the Battle Of The Boyne, my horse was shot out from under me. A Williamite caught me beneath the ribs with his dagger. And as I bled out, staring up at the sky and impatiently waiting for the pain to vanish as my consciousness withdrew like low tide, I became aware that someone was lifting me, holding me, spiriting me through the battlefield and then the wilderness; and that my pain, in a disconcerting turn of events, had swelled to a vicious and unrelenting inferno.  

Three days later, I woke to find that I was resurrected again, this time as something more than human. The man who turned me was blond-haired, light-eyed, agile and yet gentle, ancient and yet ever-changing.

“I thought you’d survive,” Nikolai said in a thick Slavic accent, standing over me with a kind smile. Then he helped me to my feet. “You have greatness in you. It sweats out of your pores, it’s in every word you speak. What a shame it would be for all of that to go to waste.”

He taught me everything: how to read and write, how to hunt, how to dodge the sunlight, how to survive an existence that was both theoretically endless and yet forever on the precipice of being cut short. He introduced me to the Draghi, to vampires who were remarkable for their ferocity, or their creativity, or their curiosity, or their cleverness, or all those things at once: Victorien, Honora, Elizabeth, Kestrel, Zhang, Sergei, Ana, Gwilym. And most crucially, Nikolai showed me that my human talents were magnified several times over, that his own followers were not immune to them, that there was power in collecting exceptional individuals like pieces of china stacked in a locked cabinet; and that if I could learn to climb immortal bones, the ladder never needed to end.  

You never quite get used to the power, to the invincibility, to the promise of eternity. You never take it for granted. It hits you, again and again, in ceaseless and victorious waves. Once I was a barefoot toddler who sketched dragons and Catholic saints from the stories my mother told me into the dirt floor of our drafty stone cottage. Now I live in palaces with marble floors, with spiral staircases and libraries and gold-dripping ballrooms, with unobstructed views of any sea I choose. Now I am the dragon.

My phone rang, and I checked the name on the screen. Then I answered. “Hello, beauty. How’s the other side of the Pacific treating you?”

And Liesl answered, in a soft and astonished voice: “I don’t think Lucy can read her. I don’t think any of them can.”

I could feel it again. Another wave, crashing through me like the ocean, like the unstoppable rolling of time: power and insatiability and exhilaration. I smiled in my twilight-lit study as long-dead stars rose outside and the wind howled like wolves over the East Sea. “You know what to do.”

[godofplumsandthunder]

I Love You

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Mention of Hitler but like in the geopolitcal way. Nothing too serious.

A/N: I can’t believe we’re more than half way over with this week! I loved this chapter and just this whole idea, and I hope that you’ll like it too. (Also, no moodboard today cause I feel like shit and have zero inspiration. So enjoy this gif of a ferris wheel).

“Well did you Bucky?” Questioning Bucky, Peter stares him down. 

“Did I what?”

Giggling, Peter sighs, “get sick, duh. You had Uncle Steve worried to death!” 

“How the fuck am I to know? I’m lucky that I remember any of this!”

“Oh,” Peter mutters as he gets up, “well, I’m glad you remember this stuff then at least. Time for a potty break,” he goes jogging off, leaving Bucky and Steve to themselves. Squeezing Bucky’s hand, Steve turns to Bucky. 

“You doing okay, Buck? It’s just… I didn’t even think. If this gets too hard for you, I can talk to Peter. Let him know you need a break. He’d understand, his feelings won’t get hurt, Buck.”

“You fucking sap,” Bucky snorts. “You know I say what I want and when I want it. Feelings be damned. But honestly Stevie, I’m fine. Actually, I’m more than fine. Cause someone besides you is actually giving a shit about me and what I went through. I’m not a sidekick in our story, I’m your partner. And don’t get all sappy on me.” 

“Okay, I’m back!” Peter plops down on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn, getting stares from the two super-soldiers. 

“What? I’m hungry and your stories are long. Anyway, where were we? First kiss, really sweet too. So what happened next?” Steve chuckles, looking at Bucky. 

“Coney Island Ferris Wheel?” Bucky smiles as he nods. “You tell him, punk.”

-----

The world was heating up. Things in Europe weren’t getting better. People were hopeful that President Roosevelt would keep the country out of the war. After all, the war’s been going on for a year now and the States still wasn’t involved. Steve, always the pessimist, didn’t feel this hope that some of his neighbors felt. Every day, he worried that Bucky would have to be sent over. That the love of his life would be sent to war, and that… well something would happen to him. But Steve tried to push these fears away, especially this week. It was their anniversary, and he wasn’t going to let Hitler or Churchill ruin it. 

Except Bucky didn’t feel the same way. The entire trek to Coney Island, all Bucky would do is complain. Well, it was more worrying than complaining. Steve knew that, but he wished that Bucky would just let loose for one night! Steve also knew that the thing that Bucky worried about the most was leaving him all alone at home. Which, okay valid point, Steve thought, but not the point he wants to hear right now.

“Bucky, it’s our anniversary, and I’m taking my best fella on a date. The last thing I want to hear right now is how Hitler is invading Poland and how Churchill is responding. I saved a month’s salary to go on this date with Bucky, not Winston.” 

Sighing, Bucky runs his hand through his hair. “I know, I’m sorry. I, well I worry about ya.” 

Steve smiles, “I know you do. But tonight is about us having fun. And celebrating! It’s been two whole years since our first date. So, we’re going to spend the day at Coney Island! I know how much you love that shoot out game.” And it’s true. Bucky really loved the shooting games. They just rarely had the cash to spare. Bucky’s work at the dock barely paid enough for the bills, and Steve would occasionally work part-time, doing some odd jobs here and there. So Steve worked extra hard (even when he shouldn’t have) to make sure that this could happen.

Seeing Bucky’s absolute glee at the booths made all that hard work worth it. If Bucky had to go to war, Steve thought, it was a good thing that he was one hell of a shot. Even with those rigged carnie guns, he was able to win game after game. Using those wins, he chooses the biggest and softest teddy bear to give to Steve.

“Buck, we don’t need this! I mean for Christ’s sake, the bear’s bigger than I am!” Steve begrudgingly accepts the bear (though deep down he loves the bear and is totally keeping it.)

“That’s why I love it, Stevie! Plus I think he’d help you a lot! When your scoliosis acts up, use it as a pillow.”

“Okay, Buck. I’ll do just that.”

The rest of their evening goes just as well. It’s these small moments that Steve is grateful for. That while to the rest of the world, they look like two really good friends, best friends. The reality is that he’s spending time with his best fella, the man he’s deeply in love with. And while neither of them have actually said the “L” word, they felt it. It was evident in all of their actions. But that wasn’t enough for Steve. He needed Bucky to know that he did. Just in case anything did happen.

“Only have enough money left for one more thing. And I’m choosing. We’re doing the ferris wheel, Buck. That’s not up for discussion.” Bucky holds his hands up in defense. 

“Didn’t say anything, Stevie! But by all means, lead the way.” Bucky smiles. He knew that this was going to happen. The ferris wheel is and always has been Steve’s favorite attraction. For Steve, there’s something of just seeing the city small that made him feel big. Something that Steve isn’t going to experience. 

Sitting in the little rickety cart, Steve leans against Bucky as they start to go higher up in the night sky. It’s quiet moments like this, where the whole world melts away. The messes, fears, and anxieties of the world fade away. The only thing left is each other. Steve and Bucky, Bucky and Steve. Their lives are always going to be intertwined, even if they can’t “be” together.

Reaching the top of the ferris wheel, Steve leans in for a kiss. “Buck, I… I love you.”

Bucky smiles as he whispers into the quiet night sky.

“I know punk.”

[tnystrk-exe]

we both know how this song ends 4

Jack Daniels x Reader

Masterpost

Previous

Warnings: Suicide and talks of miscarriage

Chapter Four

Being in the house was a struggle. Neither of you ever said anything about that night. You weren’t sure your mother would have believed what had happened. So confronting her wouldn’t be an option. Steve seemed to not remember just how he got the bruise across his face. You attempted to figure out if it was an act or he really was just a gap in his memory. He had gone quiet though, which made you doubt he had forgotten. None of Steve’s unnerving lines were yelled at you in the mornings anymore. A hate filled glance, then he’d leave to do whatever he did for the day.

“Give me your necklace,” your mom demanded, her hand already opened to take it.

“What?” You choked on the piece of toast you had been eating. 

“You fucking heard me. Stop acting like you’re a stupid bitch and do what I say.”

You didn’t make a move to take off the locket. It had been yours since the day you were born. Your father had passed it onto you the second he had held you in his arms. A tradition that started with your grandpa. “Why?”

“You’re nothing but a freeloader. I’m going to pawn it to get some extra cash. Hand it over already.”

“No,” you scoffed at the idea of it, “It’s all I have, from dad now. You already took my bracelet.”

She motioned around the apartment. “You have a roof. A room. Clothes. Stop being an entitled brat and give me the chain.” This time she didn’t wait. Instead opting to reach and pull at it instead.

You pushed her hand off. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I’m not going to let you take it. You’re just to shoot up and drink with that piece of shit you keep around.” Her hand reared back and you managed to catch her wrist before it could land. “I used to think the world of you, you know? I understand you lost someone you loved, but I loved him too.”

She pulled away her hand roughly. “He killed himself because of you.”

“Get a new line,” you sighed, “I’m tired of hearing it already. You sound like a broken record.” 

“You’re not his. He found out you weren’t. Then he killed himself. You’re the reason.”

“You’re lying,” you shook your head, laughing. “Nice one.”

She caught you in a stare, the one you knew meant no games were being played, “Didn’t you ever wonder why you’d always have play dates with Cindy? Why do you two kinda look alike? Or how come her dad was wrapped around your finger and got you anything and everything you wanted even when we said no?”

You swallowed thickly, the events not so innocent to you anymore. Sean’s usually cheerful exclaim of not having one but two daughters rang out loudly in your head. The memory of it being a sweet gesture tinted now. The resemblance with your once best friend was no longer able to be shrugged off by coincidence. “It’s not true.”

“It is. If you want to admit it to yourself or not. You’re Sean’s kid. But hey,” she clapped her hands, “It’s better than having a dead dad. Isn’t it?”

“It’s not true,” you held back your tears, not wanting to give your mother the satisfaction, “I know who my dad is and as much as I hate it, he’s gone. You can say Sean is my biological father all you want but he isn’t my dad.”

She rolled her eyes, “Isn't that sweet. Guess you’ll always take his side, Killer.”

“I didn’t kill him! That’s on your hands! Did I ask to be born? Did I tell you to jump in bed with Sean when you had someone that loved you more than anyone in the world at home? I’m not going to take the blame for your guilt.”

“Get out of my house and get me some money. I don’t care what you do to get it, sell yourself for all I care.”

You shook your head, disgusted but not surprised anymore. Wordlessly, you just left. All you needed was to be alone. Some time to process this new information. Grabbing your bike, you got on and started pedaling. 

-

“Dad!” You yelled, “I’m home.”

“Kitchen!” He responded, “Just had to pick up real quick. Ready for your driving lesson?”

You grabbed an apple from the bowl, taking a seat on the counter as you watched him clean. “Ugh, you don’t believe how ready I am. I’m so tired of that bike.”

“Hey, that old thing has served you well. Don’t bash it.  How was school?”

“Same old. Cindy has been pissed with me lately, no clue why. I think it’s because I talked to a guy she liked, but I swear it was just a couple of jokes.”

“That age is rough, Squirt. People get set off over the smallest things,” he shrugged it off, “Give her a couple of days, she’ll come back around.”

“I hope so, this whole thing is getting annoying,” you complained, “He isn’t even my type.”

“And who have you been seeing to make you know you have a type?” He asked, raising a brow.

You laughed around a bite of apple, “I’m just saying! I mean, how did you know mom was your type? You just knew right? It’s supposed to just click into place right?”

He rolled his eyes, “Nice diversion. It’s not that easy. Your mom seemed pretty ready for a relationship, but I had come out a really rough one when I met her. Things don’t just click, you know, things take time and you nurture it. You work with someone and you hope it’s all worth it in the end.”

“What happened in your last relationship?”

“A lot of lying and running around,” he admitted, “I didn’t want to see it, but it was clear.”

“Oh… I’m sorry dad, that sounds…”

“Don’t sweat it,” he patted your shoulder, “If it hadn’t happened then I wouldn’t have you around Squirt. A little struggle was worth it.”

You grinned, he had to work away from home often, but you always loved these little moments with him. Learning things about his past was always nice. “Come on you old sap, teach me how to drive so I can stop bugging you for rides.”

“Grab the keys. I can’t wait for you to sneak out in the middle of the night and steal my car.”

“It’s not teenage rebellion if you encourage me,” you complained, tossing the apple in the trash.

“I’m sorry, your highness. I’ll ground you for the rest of your life. You won’t even know what a car looks like.”

“Thank you. That’s much better.”

Making your way to the front yard. Sean flagged your dad down, trying to grab his attention. “What do you need Sean?”

“I need to talk to you,” he looked at you, “Privately. It’s, um, a family matter and I need some advice.”

“Can it wait? I promised the kid I’d teach her how to drive. We’ll take an hour at most.”

“Okay, fine, but see me first thing.” Sean walked away, your dad waited until he was out of earshot. “See? Her problem probably isn’t even with you. Sean and Cassandra are probably fighting.”

“Huh? You think? I hope it settles down soon then,” you trusted his view on the situation. “You ready?” You jingled the keys at him.

“Give me a second,” he crossed himself jokingly, “Now I am.”

“Please!” You laughed, “I can’t be that bad!”

“We can only hope.”

It was a nice time. The open windows let the air flow through, music playing loudly as you concentrated on your first drive. Despite his underlying panic, your dad managed to instruct you calmly. He wouldn’t say you were a natural, but a bit more practice and he’d be ready to lie through his teeth for you. “I’m not ready for the freeway,” he shook his head, “We're sticking to neighborhood streets for a while.”

“Aw! Dad! I got it!”

“Give me two more practice runs. Then I’ll let you try it.”

“Fine,” you parked the car in the driveway, “Two more only. I gotta learn sometime you know.”

“Yeah, kid, I know,” he looked across the street, at Sean who was waiting on his porch, “Can you make some spaghetti for dinner? Your mom should be coming home soon and I’m not sure if Sean will be done by then.”

You nodded, “I got it, dad. Any special request?”

“We do have a box of brownies…” he shrugged, “If you wouldn’t mind?”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a minute, old man.” 

You hung up the keys and got to your task in the kitchen. It wasn’t long until your mom came home. The smell of brownies and the radio playing greeted her. “How was the drive around town?”

You grabbed a stack of plates and started serving. “I think I did well. Though I think dad would beg to differ.”

“What do you mean?”

“No freeways until I get some more time in,” you blew out some air, “I can handle it.”

“Sometimes you just gotta test the waters before you jump in,” she patted your shoulders, “There wouldn’t be any harm in you learning a little more.”

“If it was up to you, I’d never get to drive,” you said, sticking your tongue out at her, “Too afraid something is gonna happen to me.”

“Well, you’re my only baby. I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”

“Nothings going to happen to me. I’m invincible,” you grabbed the plates to take them to the table, “Mind getting drinks?”

She grabbed three cans of Coke, “You’re not invincible. You’re just young.”

“Mom, I can promise you, nothing’s happening to me anytime soon.”

“Where’s your father? In the garage?”

“Nope! Sean needed his advice with some family stuff,” you shrugged, “Didn’t want to talk about it in front of me.”

“...Oh.”

The front door slammed breaking your thoughts away from your mom’s strange tone. “You good dad?”

“Y-“ he coughed, “Yeah. Just… give me a second to freshen up a bit. I’ll be right there.”

“He sounds weird.” You moved to go check on him, your mother blocking you from doing so.

“I’ll check on him.” 

You watched her walk down the hall. A bit worried, but you supposed she’d be able to handle the situation. She knew your dad better than anyone. Besides, you doubted he’d actually talk to you about what had gotten him emotional. Though you weren’t a child anymore they seemed to refuse the thought.

It took about fifteen minutes for them to come to the dining room. Your father looked distraught, but you weren’t sure if you were willing to push him to ask. Whatever was happening in Cindy’s home must have been major. The quiet while you all ate was deafening. Forks scraping against plates was all that could be heard.

Finally, it started to feel too strange for you to handle. “I think I’m going to go finish up my essay. It’s due tomorrow and I haven’t really been on top of it,” you excused yourself from the table. Quickly you dropped off your dish in the sink and left to your room. Some thirty minutes later, your dad walked into the room. You looked up at him expectantly, setting your notebook to the side. “‘Sup dad?”

He sat down beside you, handing you a bowl. A slice of brownie and a scoop of vanilla ice cream in it. “You thought I’d let you miss out on dessert?”

You smiled at him, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, kiddo.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. He grabbed your notebook reading through your essay as you ate. “You’re getting pretty good at this. Coulda sworn some big wig wrote this.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I can do better. I’m just being lazy.”

“Lazy or not. It’s good. Keep it up.”

“Are you okay, dad? You seemed a bit off during dinner.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” he tugged on your necklace gently, “You know how I can get around this time of the year. I just wish you could have met him.”

“Oh… It is around that time. Sorry about grandpa, dad, but from what you tell me he was great.”

“He was pretty alright.”

“Well, I think you’re pretty great. I can’t wait to pass it on. Imagine seeing you as a grandpa. You’re already a pushover now.”

“No. You can stand to wait. Give that thing at least until you graduate college. We don’t need any ankle biters around anytime soon.” He moved a lock of your hair behind your ear, “You know I love you more than anything in this world, right?”

“‘Course I do. I love you too, old man.”

“I should get to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“‘Night, dad.”

                                          -

It was a simple rinse and repeat kinda day. Nothing spectacular happened. School was school. Cindy was still pissed. You stayed for a couple clubs and rode your bike home business as usual.

“Dad!” You called out, “I’m home!” Hearing the car droning in the garage. Setting your bag on the floor you went to check on what he was working on.

Opening the door to the garage, you saw him just sitting in the car. “Dad?” You walked to the driver’s side. Everything clicked in that moment. A picture of you was held limply in his hand. A stray bottle of sleeping pills on the passenger seat. You tried to open the car door, but he had locked them. “Dad!” You knocked desperately on the glass, “Dad!”

You didn’t know what else to do. You ran out of the house as fast as you could, straight on to Cindy’s porch. “Sean! Sean! I need your help!”

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked quickly, seeing the panic written all over your face.

“M-my dad. I think… he’s in the garage. The car was on and I think he took some sleeping pills and I can’t get him out because the doors are locked,” you word vomited, still trying to process it all. “You need to help him!”

“Rachel, call the cops! You stay here kid, okay? I’ll go check it out.”

-

Your head kept on replaying those couple of hours again and again. Seeing your dad being rolled away had been imprinted on your memory. You let your bike fall onto the sidewalk and took a seat on the bench. Covering your face, you let out a groan into your hands. 

“It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t,” you said quietly, trying to convince yourself. 

It wasn’t, you knew that, but the guilt was there. Your father had made an irreversible choice and you had to figure out how to live past it. Still, maybe there was something you could have done. Pushed to make him talk. Missed class that day with a lame excuse. Gotten home early instead of going to a club you hadn’t even enjoyed. Anything could have saved him. You could have convinced him to stay.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump. “Bug?”

You relaxed slightly, wiping the tears from your eyes, hoping they weren’t too red. “Hey, Mr. Daniels,” you greeted, giving him a small smile. 

He was dressed in work clothes. The outfit stained with oil that would never wash out. “Are you okay? It wasn’t my boy was it?”

“No, we haven’t seen each other all day,” you sniffed, “I’ve been home all day… Jack’s been really great. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Mr. Daniels nodded, taking a seat beside you. “You should know I’m not amazing at this, it’s more Mare’s kinda thing, but I can lend you an ear. What’s wrong, Bug?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself protectively. “I dunno,” you shrugged, “Got to thinking about my dad. I guess it overwhelmed me some. Mom said something today and it just tipped all that over.”

“It hasn’t been long, right?” He sucked his teeth, “I can tell you, it’s hardest the first year, but it gets easier.”

“I can’t help but think I should have done more…”

“If you don’t mind… how did your dad pass?”

“Monoxide poisoning. He, um, took a bunch of sleeping pills and locked himself up in the car,” you stated, deciding to opt out of the newly learned information. “I just wish I had gone straight home. I could have… don’t know.”

“Oh Bug, I’m sorry. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I don’t. I just wish I could have done more.”

He frowned, “That’s too much to put on your shoulders, kid. Thinking about things like that is bad for you. Don’t put yourself through the wringer with a bunch of different scenarios. It makes the hurt worse.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“What you can do now is live a good long life. I know having a kid like you, he’d want nothing more than for you to be happy. Maybe you could talk to your mom about this?”

You shook your head. “We haven’t been good since the day it happened. I think she’s counting the days until I leave now,” you said, admitting more than you wanted to.

“Why would you think that?” He looked at you, brows furrowed. 

“I guess, I’m just a reminder of the past,” a guilty conscious more like it, “Maybe it’s just better off if I find myself a job and leave after graduating.”

Mr. Daniels perked up at that. “You’re still looking for a job? I could help you out there at the very least,” he offered. 

“Are you sure I’m qualified?”

“We just need a secretary. The shop is in shambles when it comes to organization. You’d expect us to run it better, but honestly most of the time our wives need to step in and help out. Maybe you can help us start a call ahead program, keep track of things, and go on quick runs for us.”

“I could help out,” you nodded, “When do you need me around?”

He stood gesturing for you to follow him, grabbing his bag. “You seem to have some time now. I can show you around the shop today and the things we’d need you to do. Throw your bike in the back.”

You did as he said before getting in the truck. “Thanks for the job, Mr. Daniels.”

“Don’t sweat it, Bug. In all honesty, you’d be helping us more than we’re helping you.” He started up the truck. “I’m thinking three hours after school and a hundred a week. Does that sound okay with you?”

“That sounds great.”

“You can have this Friday off, of course. Jack’s gnawing my ear off talking about his nerves over that dance. I’m sorry, by the way, that kid can’t dance to save his life but I’m pretty sure I caught him practicing.”

You laughed at the idea. Jack was absolutely too sweet for you. “I guess we’ll have to make do. I’m not sure I can do any better.”

“Trust me, you can. Oh and none of this Mr. Daniels stuff. Hanging out with you is gonna make me feel old enough we don’t need that to pile on too.”

“Whatever you say, Boss Man,” he made a face at that, “Fine, a work in progress Picky.”

The shop wasn’t too far from where you had been. Mr. Daniels said he needed some part they didn’t have in stock so he went to the store. Lucky for you. He was keeping your mind busy from the horrible morning as he showed you around the shop. His desk could be yours while you were there after school and you were welcome to do whatever made you comfortable.”

“Derek isn’t here today, but he’s the other owner. Those three are Larry, Moe, and Curly,” he pointed at the men working on cars. “They’re basically my other boys.”

The three were a bit older than you and Jack but far younger than Mr. Daniels. “Pops!” One of them called out, “This one’s ready for a test drive.”

“Okay, Slugger. Go take your break. You’re up to bat, Bug. Get the keys in our office and take that car out on a test drive,” he instructed.

“Ah, Buddy Pal, I’m afraid I’m already gotta disappoint you. Don’t know how to drive.”

“That’s not gonna work,” he shook his head, “Hey, Scout, toss me the keys. Bug get in the driver’s side.”

Slugger looked at you curiously, “What brings you around here, angel?”

“Needed some work.”

He nodded, “That’s good. That’s good. Got any plans this weekend?”

“Yeah. I do actually.”

“Shame,” he gave you a smile that probably would have flustered you before, but now you knew sweeter, “Anyone special?”

“I’d say he’s special.”

“C’mon sweetheart, ditch the kid. Come out with me. What do they know?”

You laughed, “I don’t know, Jack and I are pretty set on this date.”

“Jack?” He asked his eyes wide, “Our Jackie Boy? What game does he have? ...Hey, um, can we forget about that? Didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“Water under the bridge,” you let it go, “Nice to meet you, but I should probably…”

“Yeah, sorry again.” He started walking away, “Can’t believe I hit on Jack’s girl,” you heard him mumble to himself ashamed.

Mr. Daniels thwacked him on the back of the head as they passed. “That’s for not stopping at giving her the keys, dummy.”

“Yeah, Pops, I know.”

“Get in, Bug.” Mr. Daniels got in the car. “Okay, so what do you know?”

“A decent amount. I’ve only gone on one drive with my dad. I scared him a fair bit honestly.”

“Don’t worry about that, Bug. After Jack I have nerves of steel. He drove us into a ditch his first time. Just take it easy. We’ll help you out and when you get decent we’ll take you to get your driver’s license. Already making yourself more useful as you go.”

Mr. Daniels didn’t instruct you much. He let you go at your own pace to get used to it. However, he was telling you things to pay attention for to correctly test out the car. It was the little things that you had to pay attention to the most. 

“Okay, so the car is perfect,” he informed you, “The brakes could be better if anything else, but they could probably get away using them a while longer if they don’t want to change them now. Take us back to the garage. Next time we get a bad one, I’ll let you drive it. The only way you’ll know what to look for.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded, already making a U turn to retrace your steps. “Thanks for this by the way, I wasn't sure I’d get to learn anytime soon.”

“Well, Bug, I’m here for you anything you need, but… y’know, if you wanna say thanks sometime, I still haven’t gotten that berry cobbler.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Got it, dad.” It took you a second to realize what you had said. “Oh, sorry.”

He put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry kid, I don’t mind it. Got used to pops and dad a while ago between the Stooges and Jack. Besides, I understand you’ve been thinking about your dad. It’s okay.”

“How come the Stooges call you pops?” You asked, deciding to sidestep the awkward conversation.

“It took a long time for Mare and I to have Jack. We had been trying since we had gotten married. I was 25 and she was 21. She got pregnant four times before but those never got to stay with us and we had given up. So, to get a feel of being important to some kids, she started helping out at the elementary school and I coached little league and helped with the local scouts. We gained ourselves a couple kids that have been trailing after us like little ducklings since then. Jack was just a bonus we weren’t expecting when we were in our 40s.”

“Was it scary? Having Jack I mean.”

“The first six months were,” he acknowledged, “that was the farthest our third try made it. Once Jack cleared that it just felt like a constant miracle happening.”

“I’m glad, he did.”

“So am I. I’m not sure Maria could have handled another loss like that.” The car rolled to a stop in front of the shop. Jack’s truck parked across the street, the familiar vehicles bringing a smile to your face instantly. “You two really are some lovesick pups.” He shook his head, “I don’t think Mare and I were so infatuated.”

“Nah, buddy pal,” you denied him, “I’ve seen you together. Y’all are the lovesick ones.”

“Yeah, yeah, go do your job. Call the owner and tell them the car is ready to get picked up.”

You nodded and took a quick look to check what type of car it was. You walked straight to the office, seeing Jack looking into a motor and spitballing the problems that there may be with it. Flipping through a notebook, you found the owner and started dialing the number.

“Hello? ...I’m calling from Tovar and Daniels Repairs,” you startled slightly when arms wrapped around you, but you quickly relaxed into them when Jack pressed a kiss to your temple. “Your car is ready for pick up at your earliest convenience…” You elbowed Jack softly when you felt him bite at your neck. “Well, we advise you to change your brakes, but it’s not an immediate issue. ...Change them? Okay. I’ll get one of the guys to work on it right now.” The line cut off and you hung up the phone, “Do you mind?”

Jack took a break from your neck to press a kiss to your cheek. “Couldn’t help it. You looked cute talkin’ business. Heard you got yourself a gig here.”

“Yeah, your dad asked me to be the secretary and he wants me to be the test driver too, but he has to teach me how to drive first.”

He swayed the two of you lazily, “I’m glad for you, baby. I know you’ve been wanting a job.”

“How come you don’t work here?” You wondered.

“Didn’t wanna take a job away from the guys. Also didn’t like the idea of getting a position just because I was the owner's kid,” he said, talking against your neck, “Though, when I think about it, they’re not any better. I like outside work better anyhow.” Jack pressed a couple more kisses to your neck, earning himself a moan. “Sugar, that was a little too loud,” he scolded, his proud smirk couldn’t be kept at bay.

You laughed, turning around to face him. “I can’t believe you’re gonna get me fired during my orientation.” Pulling him close, you gave him a proper kiss. 

Recently the kisses had started getting more eager. As Jack pulled you flush against himself, you couldn’t find any reasons to complain. His hands found some purchase under your shirt as yours tugged at his hair. Jack quickly sat you on the desk, his lips never leaving yours.

“Go Jackie!” You heard three loud whoops at the door. “That’s our boy!”

Jack groaned when you pulled away and hid your face against his neck in embarrassment. He raised his hand to flip them off. 

“Jack! Stop kissing my workers on company time!” 

Next Chapter

wbkhtse tag: @carringtonhill @dizzydazed​

[lovelyirony]

Can you do winterfalcon13 (idk if that's the ship name for the trio but I'm going with it) and a college au where a some jerkbag won't leave Sharon alone, and Sam and Bucky, who she shares a class with but hasn't really talked to them, come along and scare the guy off. And Sharon is like 'thanks but I had that covered tbh' and then they become this trio that does like everything together and the rest of their friend group just thinks they should date?

It was Bucky who first noticed Sharon, honestly. She was always early to the class, sat in the middle section but on the edge of said-middle section, and she took notes and left promptly. She rarely asked questions, always had ear buds in, and wore the same pair of beat-up, white Converse shoes every day. 

“You have got to stop staring or she’ll catch you one of these days,” his boyfriend mutters. 

“I’m not staring Sam,” Bucky hisses. “Quit it.” 

“Okay sure, you’re not staring. You’re just looking at her all the time and I guess we’re not gonna call it staring.” 

“I hate you,” Bucky grumbles. 

“Oh really? Because I didn’t get that feeling last night when-” 

“Class is beginning, shut it.” 

Sam laughs and rolls his eyes, but stays quiet. 

- 

Well. A guy starts sitting next to Sharon every single class. 

Sam and Bucky are annoyed. They think she is too, judging by the different seats that she’s tried out. But the guy won’t stop talking to her and she seems to be trying to let him down gently, but it’s not working so far. 

Sam is worried that it may escalate to homicide with witnesses, so he decides to take the initiative (because god knows Bucky won’t) and sit next to her the next time that they have class. 

“Hey,” he says. “Noticed you have a guy who bothers you every class. Can’t promise Bucky here won’t be a royal pain in the ass, but we’ll keep him away.” 

“I had it handled,” she says. “But thanks. I’m Sharon.” 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Sam.” 

“Bucky.” 

And then the guy comes in. 

“Hey, uh, this is my seat?” He asks, way too much confidence brimming. “So if you could...?” 

“Not your seat,” Sharon answers boredly, flipping to her notes. “And these are my friends Sam and Bucky. If you bother me again, I’m kicking the shit out of you.” 

The guy nervously laughs. 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“She’s done it before,” Bucky answers, rolling his sleeves up. “And she’s usually the one to leave ‘em worse than I do.” 

This time, he pales. 

“I suggest you find a new seat,” Sam says coolly. “Maybe write your name on the back or something.” 

“O-okay.” His legs shake as he goes to the exact opposite of where they are, and Sharon snorts. 

“You two...are okay. Hm. You wanna get lunch with me after this?” 

Sam and Bucky look at each other. 

“Sure.” 

-

From there starts a great friendship. Where Sharon is, Sam and Bucky can’t be too far behind. 

They all enjoy time together. When Sharon’s roommate turns out to be nearly-crazy, she asks if she can use their spare room. There’s no complaint there, especially not after she lugs her candle collection in and reorganizes the bowls in the cabinets. 

“She’s a wizard,” Sam swears as he’s cooking breakfast. “I’ve never felt more efficient in my life.” 

“She’s a dream,” Bucky mumbles from his coffee cup. “I’m serious.” 

“I know you are, idiot,” Sam says, chucking an orange at him. “Now eat some goddamn food before you complain to me at ten-thirty in the morning that you want an early lunch.” 

Sharon wanders into the kitchen, sleepy as hell and already moving towards the coffee pot. She frowns when there isn’t any more. 

“Chill with your frown, sugar,” Bucky drawls. “We can make you more.” 

She grunts again and nearly slams her head into Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Oof,” he gets out, moving her closer to his chest. “You have a hard head, but not that hard. You’ll get a concussion next time you slam into my shoulder like that.” 

“Better than my stupid fucking ceramics final,” Sharon says. “I hate that fucking class and all the stupid bowls.” 

“Hey, we value your bowls,” Sam says. “Especially the one with the thumb rests so that we always have a hand on them!” 

Sharon glowers. 

“I don’t know why you always keep my fucked-up bowls, Sam.” 

“They’re funny,” Sam says. “And a conversation starter.” 

Bucky sets Sharon down where he was sitting and moves towards the coffee, getting a fresh pot started. 

“You’re too nice,” Sharon says. “Good morning, Sam. Are you making eggs?” 

“Already made some for you.” 

“You amaze me every single day,” Sharon says. “Seriously.” 

Sam and Bucky grin at her, and Sharon grins back. 

- 

Natasha, Bruce, and Thor all think that Sam, Sharon, and Bucky are the stupidest people alive. 

Not just those three, however. But they’re the ones who talk about it the most. 

Sharon will not date Bucky and Sam because she thinks that they are perfectly happy together and they don’t need a third person, and she’ll fuck it up. 

“If anything, she’ll be the best thing that’s happened to them,” Thor says. “Why can’t they see that?” 

“Because they’re all stupid as shit,” Bruce says. “And they think that everyone doesn’t like everyone, or something. Very messy. We haven’t seen this much mess since Tony and Rhodey, and even then it wasn’t that bad.” 

“Yes it was, Rhodey was convinced that Tony just liked him as a friend even when Tony kissed him,” Natasha deadpans. “We can get them together. We’ll just have to be sneaky.” 

-

They are not sneaky.

-

At least, not according to Sharon. 

“You have got to stop telling Bucky and Sam that I look gorgeous and that they need to compliment me,” Sharon hisses. “They think you’re being weird.” 

“You’re being weird,” Natasha responds. “Besides, you should ask them out!” 

“They’re in a relationship,” Sharon hisses. “And they don’t like me like that, they have each other for that.” 

“You don’t know that!” Natasha argues. “You literally have no idea if they don’t like you romantically, you’re stupid!” 

“I’m not stupid!” 

“You kind of are,” Tony says, breezing into the kitchen. “Also, if you two don’t shut up then Rhodey’s going to spread lies and he’s been bored for like two months.” 

-

Meanwhile, Bruce is challenging Sam and Bucky. 

“You ask her out or I swear to god I’ll convince Steve to ask her out on a date.” 

“You wouldn’t dare, you banned Steve from talking to you for five months!” 

“I banned him from talking to me, I didn’t ban myself from talking to him.” 

“Still, you would never stoop so low,” Bucky says casually. “I’m getting another drink.” 

Steve stares. 

“You know, I’m right here.” 

“Silence!” Bruce announces. “Go fetch me some chicken nuggets.” 

“No.” 

“I thought you weren’t allowed to talk to me!” 

Steve extends a middle finger, getting up and going to find Clint. 

-

Sharon watches as Bucky wanders into the kitchen, grabbing his glass and reaching up for the drink. 

“Hey, how’s it going out there?” 

“Bruce is trying to antagonize Steve into causing a fight, I think.” 

“That’s my cue to go get him,” Thor sighs. “He’s been trying to cause trouble for like a month.” 

“Have a good time,” Nat teases. “I’ll go find Steve and talk to him for a bit.” 

This leaves Sharon and Bucky alone, at least until Sam comes in. 

“You doing okay, Sharon?” Sam asks. Sharon nods, stirring her drink around. 

“Yeah, Nat’s just giving me shit.” 

“About?” 

“Relationships,” Sharon responds glibly. Bucky and Sam share a look. 

“You wanna be in one or something?” 

“I mean, sure, but like? I don’t know,” Sharon shrugs. “Guess it would have to be the right people.” 

Bucky spills his drink. 

“Oh shit,” Sam curses. “So you like...more than one person?” 

“Depends,” Sharon says. “But yeah, I do.” 

She swivels off of her bar stool. “I’m gonna go challenge Pepper to a game of Mario Kart if you two wanna join. But I think we’ll be ready to go home soon.” 

Sam shoots a look to Bucky. 

Home may have a different definition quite soon. 

[valkyriesryde]

Honey-pie

Pairing: Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Summary: Sam will do anything to make you his, he’s tired of the back and forth and the fact you’re always taken. He just wants you to be his girl.

Warnings: fluff, alcohol, swearing, thats it.

Word Count: 1,484

A/N: This is a VERY late submission to Dani’s 250 writing challenge @stuckonjbbarnes I apologise for the lateness I love you lots and I hope this makes up for it (i promise I have more fluff for you to come) LOVE YOU BABE

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

“Are they fighting again?” Steve turns to Sam behind his cup of coffee, raising an eyebrow at his friend as they watch you rolling your eyes to whoever, they assume is your current boyfriend, at the table. 

“Aren’t they always,” he sighs back.

“I can’t...I told you Zac I can't. I'm busy...I can do things WITHOUT YOU!...Does it matter?...I’m hanging out with Sam and the gang,” you bit your lip and tried not to look up at the men who you knew are in the kitchen. 

Sam’s eyes widened as Steve looked at him as if to question if you did actually have plans together, you didn’t and Sam shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. 

“What are we going to do?! You’re going to play video games all night with your friends and I’ll just sit there on my phone feeling like shit. I’m staying in tonight to hang out with my roommates okay. End of. Text me when you’ve stopped being a dick.” 

~~~~~~~

“She used you as an excuse not to hang out with her boyfriend?” Bucky questions Sam as he spins in his desk chair while Sam is sprawled out across Bucky’s bed with a slight smile on his face. 

“Yea! I was surprised that she used me because we didn’t have anything planned first of all, but I also don’t think she likes me that much like we have a sort of, I would say-”

“Banter, you two banter.” Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam and spun around again. 

“I was going to call it a cute back and forth,” Sam points out.

“Get out of my room.”

“What’d I do?!” 

“You’re being stupid. She has a boyfriend Sam,” Bucky was getting sick of this, he knew Sam had a crush on you. He also was aware you had a boyfriend, even if no one liked him. And Bucky knew that you were conflicted about the man in your life already. You didn’t need Sam making it any more complicated. 

“Yea but he’s a dick, I could and would treat her better than him. I’m not going to stop Bucky, I’m going to make her mine. I’m going to make her my girl.” Sam was determined, you deserved the best and if it were up to him the best is what you would get. He wasn’t crazy like Bucky or Steve thought. There was something there between the two of you he knew that, you knew that. You just wouldn’t admit it. Why? Because you were roommates. Because you’d known each other since college. Because if anything happened and it blew up in your face you wouldn’t forgive yourself. Because you were with Zac, even if you were realising he was a piece of shit. They were always pieces of shit. 

“Good luck.”

“I think you mean break a leg.”

“Please leave me alone.”

~~~~~~~~

A cute back and forth was a pretty good way to describe what you and Sam had. You had nicknames for each other, you always called him Sam I am and he always called you honey-pie. Always. You teased and went back and forth constantly. Whenever you talked there was never an opportunity for someone else to join the conversation because it moved so quickly and fluidly between you. 

Sitting on Zac’s couch while he went on about something you had lost interest in twenty minutes ago you realised that it was so much better talking to Sam. Sam asked you about your day as soon as he saw you, he asked how you were doing, he remembered the things you told him about, he actually listened to you. He wanted you to talk to him, he encouraged you to be a part of conversations and as someone who was more of a listener than a talker you appreciated that. He always stopped and let you collect your thoughts before you talked. He made you feel listened to, made you feel that what you had to say, as random as it was, was important. Zac never did any of that. 

You’d only been dating a few months but when you realised that, you called it quits. This isn’t how you should be feeling in a relationship and especially not this early. You didn’t tell the boys though. No one really mentioned it when you stopped going out twice a week to see him. Nobody pressed you for information. When the flat’s Halloween was being planned and they asked (mainly to confirm what they already knew) you simply told them. 

“We broke up, no need to invite him,” and that was the end of that. You didn’t make a move with Sam, he didn’t make a move with you. You figured if it was going to happen it would. It didn’t. 

The party came along and it was in full swing by midnight. The music blasting, drinking games going on in every other room. 

“You don’t look like you’re having a good time,” Sam came up behind you as you leaned against the wall watching Bucky play beer pong against T’Challa. His front pressed against you as he watched over your shoulder.

“Two jocks going at it over beer pong? Pretty sure I’ve seen this before,” you joked and Sam chuckled, his head falling to your shoulder briefly. 

“Come on honey-pie what’s on your mind that’s got you so blue?” You smirked as you turned to face him and Sam gladly smirked back, his hand on your hip. “That’s not the smile I was hoping for but I’ll take it. Come on, let’s get some snacks.” 

He pulled you through the crowd into the kitchen and you sat on the bench with a bowl of pretzels on your lap and fed Sam while he refilled your drinks. The music shifted and you jumped off, starting to sway with the beat. Sam grabbed your hand and spun you as the lyrics started. 

Ooh, girl, don't you stop

Don't you stop 'til you get enough, honey

Oh, honey, honey-pie, honey, honey, honey-pie

You spun and jumped with him to the song, your song as he called it, the reason he called you honey-pie because of the week straight you spent humming and playing it throughout the apartment. 

As the first verse started Sam pulled you into him so your back was against his front and his arm around your waist holding your hand and he sang the lyrics in your ear.

“Ooh girl don’t you stop. Till you’re my girl, girl, and I won’t stop until you’re mine, girl. And you can’t stop until you’re mine, girl. And I can’t find out what you want, what you got. I got that honey-pie, come bite it.” He sang, his lips brushing over the skin behind your ear, your head moving to give him more access to your neck as his teeth scrapped down your pulse after the last line. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your jaw, his lips on your ear. “Oh honey-pie.”

You turned your body in his arms, his hands on your hips as your fingers crept up his chest and neck until they lingered on his jaw and then his lips were on yours and he was pressing you against the side of the fridge. 

“Sam,” you breathed out as people pushed past the two of you causing him to press against you further. His thigh pushing between your legs until his entire body was touching yours. 

“Honey-p” but he couldn’t get out his sentence before you were kissing him again. His hands moving all over, up your back, under your shirt until someone cleared their throat behind him and you jumped apart. 

“Look I’m happy for the two of you, but get a fucking room. You have two to choose from just please don’t fuck in my kitchen!” Bucky grabbed a beer out of the fridge and rolled his eyes at the two of you while you held back a giggle in Sam’s arms. 

“We pay rent too!” Sam quipped back but you were already pulling him down the hallway towards your room and as you pushed him into the room with a laugh from both of you you heard Bucky call out.

“I OWN THE HOUSE!” 

Sam sat on the edge of the bed and pulled your hand until you sat on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck loosely and his around your waist. He wore a goofy smile as he looked at you and his fingers ran under your shirt.

“What are you smiling at?” You asked him, tracing his cheekbones and Sam placed soft kisses on your palm as he hummed. 

“My honey-pie,” and he leaned forward and kissed your collarbone, nuzzling into your neck. 

“Yours huh?” 

“Not gonna stop until your mine baby-girl.” 

~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

Permanent Taglist (Open): @witch-of-letters @tonystankschild @buckysmischief @buckysdumbmetalarm @marvelsangels @momobaby227 @weirdlyokaywithit @disgustangg @bucky-blogs @sebbbystaaan @geeksareunique @stuckonjbbarnes @ellieisgae @mushyjellybeans @lovesmesomehiddles @nat-alia-novna @this-kitten-is-smitten @itsunclebucky @kitkatd7 @lokisironthrone 

[honeyhan-123]

Say Thank You IX

Series Summary: Nearly five years have passed since Steve Rogers saves your life without so much as a thank you. When he sees you again by chance, he makes sure that he’ll never let you go and maybe teach you some manners in the process.

Series Warning: This will be a dark!Steve fic with stalking, kidnapping and manipulating as well as non-con and dub-con situations. Please don’t read it if you don’t like that sort of thing.

Chapter Warnings: non con/dub-con (If you don’t like that sort of thing or it triggers you please do not read this), somnophilia, handcuffing, cum eating, sexy times, degrading, food being withheld, some serious gas lighting/ Stockholm syndrome elements. 

Word Count: 3.7k

AN: I’m so sorry that it took me so long to finally get around to this, but enjoy a new banner! The last one just wasn’t really doing it for me anymore tbh. Again, I’m super sorry. 

I. New York ~ II. Madrid ~ III. The Apartment ~ IV. The Trip ~ V. The Basement ~ VI. The First Lesson ~ VII. The Waiting Game ~ VIII. The First Attempt

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

IX. The Darkness Steve had left you like that for hours. Your face pressed against the satin pillows, your hands cuffed to the bed’s headboard, and  your ass screaming in pain. You had no idea of how long it had been since he had disappeared through the door, but the skin on your wrists was rubbed raw from the metal cuffs wrapped too tightly around them as you had tried to get comfortable. All of your attempts had failed however, how could you get comfortable after what he had done to you?

You could feel the cum drying in between your legs, growing crusty as shame filled you at how easily you had caved to him, how easily he had played your body, learning what you liked and giving it to you. Sleep had been heard to come by, even in the complete darkness, but you did manage to get a few minutes? Hours? It was hard to tell how much time had passed in the dark. 

A light flickered on, the fluorescence hurting your eyes as they adjusted, having spent so many hours in complete darkness. When you could finally see again, you saw that the light was positioned over the couch, and you didn’t have to wonder why for long as you soon heard the all too familiar click of the lock as Steve returned. 

Even from your uncomfortable position on the bed you could see he only had one bowl with him on his tray and you figured it must be around dinner time, dread flowed through you at the thought of another night lying awake in hunger. He set the tray down on the coffee table in front of the couch before heading over to where you lay, a naked mess at his disposal. 

He uncuffed your wrists, hardly even looking at you before turned on his heel and walking back over to the couch. No words had to be said, it was clear he wanted you to follow him, and you would do as he wanted. 

Your legs were stiff, a sob escaping your mouth as you tried to move your arms after hours of being restrained while walking over to him. Every step sending a sting of pain up your legs, through your arse and towards your spine. You had tried to cover your body with the bed sheet, tentatively wrapping it around your aching body but one glance from his icy blue eyes had you discarding the satin on the floor, leaving your body bare. 

Trepidation flowed through you as you approached the couch, fear of the pain that sitting on the plush cushions would cause you. However, as you went to sit down, your felt Steve’s had wrapped around your arm, manhandling you to the floor beside him, forcing you into a kneeling position by his feet. 

‘Only good girls get to sit beside me. Until you learn your place, this is where you will be.’ You nodded despite your inner anger and watched as he began eating, cutting up pieces of steak with his knife and fork and shoving them in his mouth. You salivated just watching him, it had been hours since you last ate at breakfast and the rumbling of your stomach had you regretting skipping lunch. 

Steve had clearly heard the growl of your stomach as he paused eating, a smirk crossing over his face as you looked down at you. ‘Awww, is the little slut hungry?’

Unsure of the answer that he wanted, you nodded your head, your eyes pleading with him as you knelt before him. You didn’t have time to register his had swinging back before it hit you across the face, the force of it sending you tumbling to the ground. ‘How many goddamn times do I have to tell you? Use your words.’ 

‘I’m sorry Sweetheart. I am hungry.’ You could barely hear your own voice over the ringing in your ears but he clearly had, pressing a hand against the cheek he had just hit, stroking over your cheekbones as he smiled down at you. 

‘Don’t worry my love, I’ll feed you after I’m done.’ His drastic shift in moods caused you whiplash as he went back to eating his dinner, the only noise in the room was the clink of his cutlery against the china of his plate. 

You had no idea of how long had passed until he was finished, you had no way of telling whether it was minutes, or hours which it had felt like but he finally pushed the coffee table back out, away from the couch, settling his body into the plush cushions. You watched as his hands rested on his abdomen, a confusing smirk sent your way as his hands drifted down his torso before coming to his belt buckle. 

Dread flowed through you he undid the buckle, his fly coming undone, his pants being pushed to his knees, his thick cock slapping against his skin, his eyes never leaving yours. 

‘C’m on baby, don’t be shy. Come get your dinner.’ You wanted to scream in protest, get up and run as far away as you could, but the every present sting in your ass prevented you; warned you against it. Steve could sense your hesitation as you knelt in front of him, his eyes darkening even further at your lack of movement. ‘I’m not going to ask nicely again Doll.’ 

Shakily, you crawled in between his legs, your eyes locked on the small, glistening drop of precum slowly sliding down to his heavy balls. As you positioned yourself over his cock, ready to take it in your mouth, you were minutely aware of the crusty dried cum in between your thighs. You could feel the bile rise in your throat yet you tried to hold it in, swallowing it back down. 

‘Hurry up girl. I haven’t got all day.’ You locked eyes with Steve only to see an unrecognisable stranger sitting in his place. Gone was the tender, loving Steve who only wanted you to behave. In his place was this new cruel Steve, determined to break you down. 

Biting back your palpable resentment, you liked your lips before opening your mouth and forcing yourself to take him in. The sheer girth and length of him had your jaw already aching as you half heartedly began the descent down his cock.

Steve apparently wasn’t having it though as he bucked his hips up, forcing himself deeper. ‘C’mon slut. I know you can do better than that.’ His voice was a growl as he shoved both hands into your hair, tangling themselves in it as he controlled your new pace. 

The only sounds in the room were that of your gagging and spluttering on his cock as you tried to breathe around him and his own heavy breaths as he relished in the warm wetness of your mouth. 

His hands tightened their grip in your hair, yanking at the strands. ‘You said you were sorry Doll. Prove it to me.’ He practically spat his words at you as you knelt before him, eyes locking with his and you realised that he was serious. He wanted you to do better than you already were and you had no intention of what you happen if you didn’t. 

You breathed as deeply as you could before forcing yourself all the way down him, swallowing around his thick length, swirling your tongue along the underside of his shaft as you came back up. You repeated the motion several times, each swirl of your tongue earned you a deep moan from the man above you and as fucked up as it was, you loved hearing that sound. You loved the way it seemed to reverberate through the air and down inside of you, deep inside, making your thighs clench in need. 

You could tell that he was close, the tensing of his immense thigh muscles gave it away just before he came, deep inside into your mouth, a loud groan falling from his lips as his hold in you hair loosened. He didn’t have to tell you what to do next, you knew that he expected you to swallow whatever he gave you and so you forced the salty liquid down your throat, feeling the way is slid down into your stomach. 

His hands started playing with your hair, an action that would normally make you incredibly irate but under the circumstances you couldn’t find it in you to care. You were far too tired from the beating you had taken earlier that day and the events that had just transpired to care about what his hands would do to your hair which no doubt looked a hot mess right now given that you hadn’t had the chance to properly dry it after your attempted shower.

You just closed your eyes and tried to find comfort in your current position, ignoring the way your knees shouted in discomfort against the wooden floorboards. You didn’t even open your eyes when you felt him shift, his hands moving away from you, the crackle of a wrapper echoing through the quiet room. 

‘Open your eyes Doll.’ You did as he said, your eyes falling on the small protein bar he held out to you. Cautiously, you raised your hands to clasp around the wrapper and when he didn’t try and take it back or get angry at you, you took it from him, laying it in your lap. 

‘What do you say when I give you something?’ His voice was expectant, hinting at the icy turn it could take in seconds. Your eyes quickly snapped back up to his while you tried to find your voice. It was raspy and was barely more than a whisper, but you knew he would be able to hear it. 

‘Thank you Sweetheart.’ 

+

Steve had left you after that, saying he would be back later, leaving you alone once again. The light above the couch had stayed on, illuminating the rest of the room well enough and as tempting as curling back up in bed sounded, you desperately wanted some clothes, something to at least give you the idea of modesty and so you had trudged back towards the closet, wincing at every step. 

However once you had reached the closet, no matter how hard you twisted, pulled or pushed, the door remained in place, keeping you from your one hope of protection. You banged your head against the smooth wood, fighting back tears. Deep down you knew that in the grand scheme of things, not having clothes definitely wasn’t the worst thing to happen to you, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. Being dehumanised like this was one of the worst things that man had done to you, it made his future intentions crystal clear. 

That night you had curled up as tightly as you could in a ball, cocooned in blankets, fighting the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, waiting for the light to click off to leave you in peace. When it finally did after what had felt like hours had passed, sleep was still hard to find. Your body sought comfort, not only for the physical pain he had caused, but also for the emotional pain. And the most fucked up thing about it, was that as your eyes drifted closed, you realised it was his comfort you craved. Barely a day in and you were already breaking. 

He really was going to break you down to nothing. 

+

Steve checked his phone as he made his way into the kitchen, watching as his girl slept, the picture of serenity. It broke his heart, having to do this to you but it was a necessity. If this was going to work, you needed to be broken, to be rebuilt by him. It went against every moral fibre in his body, but this is what he wanted; what he needed. 

He hadn’t even realised what he really wanted when he had taken you, but now, nearly two weeks into his operation he knew. He knew that you were going to be his endgame, one way or another. 

Mentally steeling himself, Steve descended the stairs to the basement, his tray of breakfast in one hand, his phone in the other. He watched as you slept soundly, even after he had switched the light over the couch on. He must’ve really tired you out last night. 

There was a stir beneath his trackies as he thought about last night; about yesterday. The way your cunt had felt around him, squeezing him for dear life while he tried to hold on until he felt your walls pulse around him. It had been everything he had dreamt of and more. And then when he had experienced your lips wrapped around him, the velvety warm swirl of your tongue... the bulge that was now evident beneath his tracksuit pants was evidence enough of just how much he had enjoyed it. 

Taking in a deep breath, Steve opened the door, wasting no time in disposing the tray on the coffee table as he had done last night before stalking over to where your sleeping body lay. During the night, your body had unfurled itself from the ball it had been as you fell asleep and now, Steve only had to peel back the blankets to reveal your naked body to him as you lay on your back, as if presenting yourself to him. 

Steve paused momentarily, awestruck by your curves, your breasts, the smattering of curls that hid his true desire from his vision. Slowly, gently, he lay down over your body, careful not to shift the bed too much, knowing that he would never get this calmness, this serenity from you while you were awake. At least not for a little while.

On their own accord, his lips connected with the soft, supple skin of your shoulder, placing soft, open mouthed kisses wherever they could as he moved down your body, latching onto one of your nipples. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive skin as his fingers brushed over the other one, teasing it to a peak while you slept. 

He continued his descent, not staying too long in one anyone place, worried that you would wake up before he reached his true destination and tried to stop him. He brushed over your naval, down on your thighs as his hands separated them, revealing you to him. A smirk came over his features as he stared at your glistening cunt. You might try to deny it, but even in sleep your body couldn’t lie to him. 

He pressed his tongue flat against your slit, licking all the way up to your clit, wanting to taste as much of you as possible, angry at himself for not doing it sooner. You tasted divine. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, paying the utmost attention to the sensitive bundle of nerves while one of his fingers coated itself in your slick gently before easing in. 

Steve relished in the way your body changed, despite you remaining asleep. He loved the way your breathing picked up ever so slightly, the soft moans that tumbled out of your liberated mouth, the way your hips slightly shifted closer to him. 

It wasn’t until Steve added a second finger that you finally started to wake up, realising that the pleasure coursing through your veins was real and not just a dream. Your eyes drifting open, ever so slowly, and it took you a moment or two to realise what was going on; who the blonde tuft of hair between your legs belongs to. 

You raised your hands, tangling them in his hair with every intention of shoving him off you, but suddenly you felt a third finger being added, all three curled to hit right there and - ‘Oh’. The moan echoed around the small room, Steve’s eyes flickering up to meet yours, the crystal blue nearly black and you threw your head back against the pillows. Thoughts of shoving him off completely abandoned as your fingers curled in an unyielding grip, pulling him more towards you, the feeling of the constantly tightening coil too pleasant to deny. 

You could practically feel Steve smirk against you ignored it, too wrapped up in bliss to care as his fingers continually stroked over your g-spot, his tongue never ceasing its ministrations on your clit. ‘Oh Steve, Stevie yes please, right there, please Stevie.’ 

You felt him groan in response to your words, felt the bed shift as he ground into the mattress. Clearly someone was excited. You couldn’t hold in the smile that crossed your face, some sick part of you was thrilled that you had this much of an effect on the great Captain America. God, what was wrong with you?

You snapped your eyes shut, trying to force those thoughts out of your mind and focus on the intense pleasure that was building up in your stomach. You were so close you could almost taste your orgasm on your tongue, you just needed a little bit more to push you over the edge. 

‘Please Stevie, please. I need to cum. Please make me cum. I’ll be your good girl. Please.’ You felt his grip on your hips tighten even further and with a final flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers, the soil inside of you snapped, your vision went blurry and your body felt fuzzy, writhing on the bed as you slowly came down. 

You could vaguely feel Steve’s lips tracing a path up your body, pausing just before they met yours. As you kissed, you could taste yourself on his tongue as he forced it inside of you, trailing it over the entirety of your mouth. You didn’t realise what he was trying to distract you from until you felt his head poke at your slit before softly easing in. 

Although you did still feel the pain from the stretch of him, it felt good mostly, the way he filled you so completely, taking his time to thrust in and out, a stark contrast to yesterday. 

Even though you had only just come down from your orgasm, you could already feel the coil tightening once more as he continued to grind against you, making sure to always hit your clit with his pelvis as he moved. 

Every time he bottomed out inside of you, you could feel his tip scraping against your g-spot just as his finger had done and it never failed to make you a moaning mess. Your arms were wrapped around his thick shoulders, your legs around his waist, desperately trying to pull him even closer. All the thoughts of how you should hate him for everything that he had done and was doing to you were nowhere to be seen as his lips met your collarbone. 

‘Oh Stevie… god, yes Stevie, yes.’ Your words were barely a breath against his ear as he picked up his pace, the sound of your skin clapping filling the room. You watched in awe as he leant down on his elbows, capturing your face in his hands, forcing your eyes to lock. 

‘You’re gonna be the death of me Doll. The way you squeeze me so tight. It’s like a perfect fit, like you were made for me.’ Your body couldn’t help but respond to his words, your walls clenching around him as he pulled you impossibly close once again. 

‘Stevie please. I’m so close.’

‘I know Doll, I know. I’m nearly there. Just hold on a little longer.’ 

You were transfixed, lost staring into his eyes as his pace increased even further, rutting into you with a fever, chasing his finish. One hand slipped down from your face, tracing the contours of your body until it met your swollen clit, toying with it in time of your thrusts. 

You could barely keep your eyes open at this point, the pleasure radiating through your body was too much to handle and when your eyes started to drift closed, you felt his hand squeeze your jaw. ‘Eyes on my Doll. I want to see them as you cum around my cock. Me a good girl and cum for me baby, cum right now!’

You obeyed his words right on cue, your cunt spasming around his cock as your vision turned black, the pleasure too much to handle. 

When you came too a few moments later, you could feel Steve tracing patterns along your bare back enticing goosebumps wherever his hands roamed. ‘I’m glad your back with me Doll. I thought I’d lost you for a moment there.’ 

‘No, I’m right here.’ As much as you detested yourself for it, you subtly tried to bury yourself even further into his chest, relishing in his heat, in the feel of his hard muscles beneath you, ignorant of the giant smirk plastered on his face. 

+

Steve didn’t know how long you had been lying together, but he knew for certain that he wasn’t about to get up anytime soon. He knew that your cuddliness was most likely just a post orgasmic haze and it would soon turn back into your normal behaviour, but it gave him hope. Hope that this whole mean guy act would soon be over, and you would be truly his at last. 

It was only when Steve heard the persistent chime of his phone that Steve finally let go of you. He had tried ignoring it but it never let up and so he climbed out of bed, hating the piece of modern technology as he disentangled his limbs from yours and fumbled around for his jean pocket, mentally cursing whoever was calling him right now. 

However when he finally located the sleek device he noted that it wasn’t an incoming call, but a security alert that had the phone going haywire. Hesitantly, he opened his security app, clicking on where the alarm had sounded at his front door. 

The image on the screen had his face paling, panic started to overtake him as he stared down at the face of his best friend, standing on his doorstep. 

+

Tags will be added in a reblog

X. The Truth

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

[sad-af1121]

A Nuisance (One-shot)

Summary: Everyone has their bad days and unfortunately yours was a mixture of exhaustion and being sick. Steve and Bucky made it their goal to make your day a little better by spoiling you the best they can but how could they help when every ounce of physical love annoyed you? | Marvel AU | Pairings: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: language, some angst? (idk if you count a pouty steve as angst but sure) fluff, comedy and cute-ness overload

A/N:  i’m sorry in advance if it seems rushed but i really did try to make it comedic and cute. It’s been a rough two weeks and i really wanted to get this done before the deadline for @babylevines writing challenge! Congrats on the 4k follower's babe! I hope you enjoy :3 Prompt: “Touch me with your cold feet one more time and see what happens.” | Thanking @isaxhorror for giving this a look through!  Feedback is welcomed 💜

“They didn’t have any fresh lemons at the store so I got generic lemon juice,” Bucky informed Steve, shutting the front door of their shared apartment. He set the grocery bags on the kitchen island before pulling the contents out from the bags. 

Steve turned away from the stove, his eyes scanning the counter. “Buck, why are there so many ice cream flavors? I asked you to get what Y/N likes.” 

Bucky sighed, “I didn’t get one flavor of ice cream because I figured if I got the ones she likes, she can pick based off her mood when she gets back home.” He shrugged and walked to the fridge. Steve hummed to Bucky’s remark since he did have a point. 

You were called in to work in the early hours of the day, the sun wasn’t even shining through the dull grey-blue skies yet and on top of that, you were fighting a small cold. If it wasn’t for your stubbornness and your passion to work, Steve and Bucky wouldn’t have let you leave, let alone leave the bed. They constantly checked on you, knowing you were going to end up very cranky and exhausted for the rest of the day. After they both came back home from work, they decided to pamper you for the night. 

The house chores and dinner would be done by the time you got home. All you would have to do was rest and enjoy the evening and the following weekend with your boys. However, they were hoping that their plan would work and brighten up your mood, but that would be something they’d have to wait and see. 

“Buck-”

“She’s parking the car,” Bucky smirked, looking up from his phone screen. “I’ve been texting Babygirl all day. Chill dude, worst-case scenario, she throws a pillow at you for treating her like some fragile pup.” 

“Ha, ha. Shut up,” Steve swallowed, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. He was only this way when you weren’t feeling your best. If the world came crumbling down, Steve would make sure to be your shield, protecting you from any harm because you meant everything to him. Both you and Bucky kept the flame of life burning in his chest. 

The sound of keys jingling and the doorknob turning caught both of Bucky and Steve’s attention as they prepared themselves for you. Door swinging open, you trudged into your apartment, shutting the door behind you before slumping against the hard flat surface. 

Nose slightly discolored with droopy eyelids, you sniffled, sighing in what sounded like a tinge of satisfaction, “I’m hoooome!” You strained, voice raspy and heavy due to your sinus acting up again. Steve involuntarily pouted, his heart aching to see the sight of you so sick and tired. Bucky clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, steadying himself from the anger that was bubbling from within. He craved nothing more than to call your bosses and tell them a thing or two about a proper workplace and how to respectfully treat employees who were under the weather. 

Who else calls someone in to work and put others in jeopardy for getting them sick? It’s diabolical. 

Giggling at yourself, you move away from the door and set your things to the side, stepping into the kitchen, “What’s all this?” Eyes roaming across the stove then to the dining table, you saw dinner had been made and set for you. The corners of your lips twitched into a lopsided smirk as you looked up at Steve. 

“You didn’t have to do all this, baby. We could have ordered take out. I know how hard work can be on you two,” you turned and looked at Bucky who was already standing behind you with a smirk to mirror yours. 

“We wanted to do this for you, doll. You work so hard too, ‘n hell, if we want to spoil you, we will. Periodt.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, cringing. “I get your trying to stay hip and modern but PLEASE don’t say that word around me again,” you chuckled as did the boys. 

Both Bucky and Steve began to walk toward you and your gut knew they wanted a kiss, but you stopped them the minute they got close, placing a hand on their chests. “I’m sick remember? I don’t think you guys want to get close to me.”

“We’ll be fine. We’re super-”

“Yeah, yeah, super soldiers but I’m not risking it, Steve. Once I’m feeling better, I’ll repay you guys in so many kisses that you’ll be sick of me. But as of right now, I don’t want to be touched,” you sighed, looking between Bucky and Steve. 

Bucky nodded and looked at Steve who seemed to be having a hard time dealing with your mood. You saw how his jaw clenched, his heart feeling the slight sting from how forward you were with your emotions and it wasn’t like Steve was against it. He needed to adjust. There was no doubt that Steve didn’t respect your wishes and so he stepped away, clearing his throat before busying himself in washing the dishes from cooking. You swallowed thickly, a small pout forming along your lips. 

“Hey, America’s ass.”

Steve turned and you blew him a kiss, hoping it would warm his heart and silently tell him you loved him. When he smiled back, a twinkle forming in his eyes, you knew he was okay. The feelings of content and relief washing over you. It was Bucky’s turn now and you did the same, blowing a kiss, then giggling right after. 

His lips bloomed into a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling with admiration and bashfulness. You found this incredibly adorable and you couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. After that, you headed to the bedroom to change into your pj’s. 

Once you disappeared into your room, Steve stepped away from the kitchen and joined Bucky on the couch who was playing a game on his phone. 

“Don’t mess with Y/N, okay? I think she’d find your annoyance anything but cute today. You saw how she’s acting. Wouldn’t want to ruin her night if you two end up arguing,” Steve warned with a sigh, reminding his lover. On your usual days, you’d find Bucky’s teasing hilarious and downright appealing. However, when you suffered through a rough day like today, for example, you and Bucky would get into a banter that neither parties like to endure. It wasn’t severely serious or anything of that sort and always ended up in kisses and hugs but Steve wanted to avoid that at all costs. 

Maybe he was treating you like a small puppy dog after all. 

***

“Ugh, baby. You’re the fucking beeeest,” you groaned into your food, your eyes practically rolling inside your head. Your taste buds pranced with happiness, the flavors bringing waves of satisfaction and desire for more. The heat from your supper opened your pores and sinus which allowed some of your tasting senses to come alive. 

Steve grinned brightly, looking over at Bucky who chuckled at the blonde for his victory smile. “Had to make my girl happy.”

“You mean our girl, jerk,” Bucky corrected, playfully glaring into Steve’s eyes whilst ripping a piece of baguette with his teeth, chomping on the bread. Steve’s face twisted with disgust and you barked out a laugh, your cheeks warming to how possessive they were getting over you. 

“Okay, okay, chillax dudes. I don’t want any bloodshed over dinner. Y’all can wait till after I’m done,” you snorted as Bucky threw a piece of bread at you. You threw one in return which started a mini food war. 

“No. Nooope,” Steve got up from the table and opted to eat on the kitchen island. “Totally unnecessary,” he whispered under his breath and it became unfortunate for him because you and Bucky ended up throwing food at him instead.

After dinner, the three of you decided to watch a movie since it was a Friday and none of you had to wake up early the next day. Bucky was picking out a movie, trying to connect his phone to the TV since he found a site that posted movies online without having to leave the comfort of your home and going to the movie theatre. 

You quietly sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped around your body, waiting for Bucky. Technology wasn’t his thing but you gave him some room to try before you helped. It was the only way he was going to learn and you loved when he figured it out himself, his charming yet victorious smile blossoming across his face when he succeeded.

Steve had filled three bowls of popcorn since everyone ate theirs differently. Bucky didn’t like too much butter but you did and Steve was just in the middle with added caramel popcorn in the mix so it wasn’t unusual when you guys had your own popcorn rather than share it. He strolled into the living room, setting the bowls on the coffee table before deciding to take a seat next to you. 

In Steve’s mind, he thought since dinner was successful and you seemed to be in a better mood, you wouldn't mind if he cuddled, missing the warmth of your body and the touch he just craved so often. It relaxed his every sense, any contact sending an electrifying current throughout his body and sparking something in his heart. You felt like home and being touch-starved by you today wasn’t sitting so nicely with Steve. 

Throwing his arm over your shoulder, Steve adjusted himself on the couch before feeling his arm being lifted off your shoulders and into his lap. 

“Steve, c’ mon babe. I’m really not in the mood. I’m sorry,” you huffed, a tinge of annoyance lacing your words. “I warned you earlier about getting yourself sick.” You scooted away from him, hoping your soft eyes would make up for it but Steve just growled, getting up and fetching his sketchbook from the shelf by the television. 

Not only did he sit away from you but he ignored your attention, frustration weighing on his shoulders. He flipped through the pages of his book in search for a clean page to draw his emotions on and you mentally kicked yourself in the ass because you pushed Steve’s limit. 

Huffing in remorse, you snuggled against your blanket, cozying up with the soft material that smelled of lavender. Bucky had finally gotten the movie to play, rushed to the couch and decided to sit with you since Steve was sulking on the other couch. 

About 45 minutes into the movie, Bucky had his legs spread out, his head resting on the armrest while his body laid straight, his feet almost touching you. Lost in the plot of the film, you hadn’t noticed he pushed his sockless, icy cold feet under your blanket, the warmth wrapping itself around them. It brought a sort of relief that he wanted more warmth. More from you. 

So that was when he touched his feet against your heated thighs, his toes digging in and out of your skin as if he was trying to massage you like a cat would knead a pillow. Instantly, you withdrew a breath, your senses coming into reality. The cold shook you like a bolt of lightning, your nerves screaming for an escape. You allow a few minutes to go by, assuming he’d halt his actions. But the longer you waited, the more he thought it was an invitation to continue. 

The only solution you knew at the time was to take deep steady breaths, ignoring the fact that his freezing cold feet were touching your hot skin which brought a shiver throughout your body. You already had the chills due to your sickness and Bucky wasn’t making things any better for you now. What was up with your boyfriends today?

“Holy shit,” Bucky laughed at the television, pulling his legs back. You nipped your lips in happiness, doing a small victory dance in your head. Just as you’re getting comfortable again, Bucky placed his feet back in its previous position, causing you to huff out loud. 

“Touch me with your cold feet one more time, and see what happens.” 

Both Bucky and Steve whipped their heads towards you, their brows knitting together in confusion. You stare back at them, widening your eyes then signaling down with your eyes to show them the issue. 

Inhaling deeply, Bucky paused the movie, “Jesus, really? You could’ve just asked me baby before threatening me.”

Those words alone brought a lump of guilt in your throat. You were very snappy today and it wasn’t like you to get this annoyed. 

“Fuck, sorry,” you pouted. “I think I should just get to bed and leave you guys alone. I promise to be better tomorrow,” you whined quietly, your eyes darting between the two. 

Bucky silently gnawed on his lower lip before turning his attention to Steve and winking at the old soul. Steve himself was utterly confused but he knew that mischievous smirk in Bucky’s eyes which gave him everything he needed to know. 

As you were ready to leave the couch, Bucky leaped towards you, trapping your body underneath his as he playfully growled against your neck and jaw. You had no time to react differently, only the sounds of laughter breaking past your lips. Then came his fingers digging in your sides, the familiar zaps of delight coursing through your nerves. Tickling made your body turn into putty because once someone started, it was harder for you to escape their hold than it was to take it all in and not laugh. 

Steve took this time to record a video of the events unfolding in front of his eyes, using a filter that made voices very high pitched. It was one of his favorites when he made videos and he couldn’t get over the fact it made people sound like they were on helium. 

“Steve! St-stop recording and save m-meee!” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath.

Your shrieks of bliss and neediness were enough for Steve to toss his book to the side and pull Bucky off your body, throwing the brunette to the ground with a loud thud. 

“What the fuck, Steve!” 

“Save it punk. Meet us in the room,” he breathed out a chuckle, sweeping you off the couch and carrying you to your bedroom. You buried your face into his chest in attempts to hide the growing smile that ached your cheeks even more. But you knew he already saw it and now he was going to make sure he gets all the kisses and cuddles he wants. 

Even if that meant getting sick because Steve and Bucky would risk everything for you. 

__________

Permanent tags will be added to reblogs. If you’d like to be added, pls send an ask.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Check Your Tone

“Darlin’ what are you doin’?” Bucky asks, watching you as you painstakingly apply glitter to your lips.

“Getting ready,” you say simply.

“Ready for what?” Steve asks, folding his arms. 

“Going out,” you answer, not looking at either one of them. You have a black dress that’s been calling you from the back of your closet and your favorite pair of “Come Fuck Me” pumps match it just the right way. If your boys are going to ignore you, you’re going to go out. 

“Who’re you going with?” Bucky said frowning. You shrug, “Just some friends from work. Me. Alaina, Jen, Probably Jordan.” Steve eyed your backside in your dress. It just kept getting shorter as you applied your makeup, leaned over the counter, standing on tiptoe. “Jordan?” Bucky growled. Bucky and Steve traded a look. They didn’t like Jordan. He was loud and abrasive. He flirted with you relentlessly. You whip around, makeup brush in hand, “Barnes, your dick isn’t big enough to talk to me like that. Check your tone.”

Steve and Bucky both took half a step back. It had been a long time since you’d been riled up enough to tell either of them off. At all. Let alone that bluntly.

“Baby,” Steve tried, reaching for you. “No,” you tell him calmly. You turn back around and tug your dress down on your thigh and adjusting your breasts just slightly. “What do you mean, no?” he asks. “I mean no,” you repeat, “You don’t get to ignore me for weeks then come up into my house and tell me what I can and can’t do.” You go to leave the bathroom and Bucky blocks your way, “As for you,” you tell him, “Your dick still isn’t big enough. Check yourself.”

They watch you go, wincing. That explained a lot, actually. You were hurt. Really hurt. They’d missed a lot of things in the last few weeks. They’d been together. You’d been stuck alone and worrying. There had been no contact. No messages. Nothing. You hadn’t known if they lived or died. You’d been so happy to see them, you’d cried. 

They had sprawled on the couch and vegetated for days. They hadn’t let you in. Talked to you. Let you take care of them. They’d fucked up. They’d fucked up bad. You’d told them you had anxiety. That there was body dysmorphia and depression. That sometimes those things were loud. That you needed reassurance sometimes. They hadn’t given you that. They’d wrapped around each other on your couch while you worked. 

When you come back around the corner, evening bag in hand and heels on. Hair falling in a riot of curls, fixed in place with a red bandana. You look like sex. The glitter on your lips makes them look sugar-coated and makes them long to taste you. “I ordered you pizza,” you tell them on the way out the door, “have a good night.” You don’t steal kisses. There’s no teasing. You don’t so much as look at either of them. Steve hates it. He follows you and calls down the hall, “When are you coming home?”

“When I feel like it,” you answer. 

The boys flinch. They’d not given you what you needed and hurt you. So now you were coping the best way you knew how. Seeking solace and going to drink until there was no more pain to feel. You were going to drink and dance. Come home reeking of second-hand smoke and perfume not your own. “Steve,” Bucky said after a long moment, watching you disappear down the stairs. “I know,” he said, “But if we follow her she’s just going to keep being mad.” They put their arms around each other. “We should know better,” Bucky said softly. Steve took a deep breath, “At least... I mean. At least she’s going out with friends.”

Bucky frowned and Steve heard the whirr of metal plates moving as Bucky’s fist clenched involuntarily. Bucky really did not like Jordan. Jordan tended to treat your relationship as fair game to hit on you. Touch you. He seemed to think that because you were in a relationship with two men and had a fondness for women, you were just a whore he could buy. Steve kissed his cheek, “It’ll be fine, Buck,” he said, “You know she didn’t invite him.” Bucky growls and Steve chuckles, “ C ‘ mon, you know it’ll be okay. She’s extra fucking feisty today.” Bucky takes a deep breath. He doesn’t like disharmony in the house. He doesn’t like when one of you is upset. 

Steve, he can handle. He had a lot more practice. But you? Knowing you’re hurt. Knowing he hurt you and you don’t feel like you can come to them for comfort. That’s killing him. It feels like a vacuum in his chest. They were supposed to be your safe place. A soft place to fall when the world was too hard. When work was hell and you felt like you weren’t enough. You were supposed to come home to your boys. Just like they came home to you. To home-cooked meals and binge-watching all the shows you promised not to watch without them. 

Bucky shakes his head and walks back into the apartment. “How are we gonna fix this, Stevie?” he asked, sprawling face down on the couch. Steve stroked his back gently, starting to knead the tension out gently. “I have a plan,” he said, “I think.” Bucky groans and relaxes into the touch, “What’s that?” he asked. 

“I think it’s time we make things a little more... concrete,” he said, “there’s probably some truth to diamonds being a girl’s best friend.” Bucky made a soft thoughtful sound, “She might like that but... she doesn’t wear much jewelry.” Steve snorted, “Only because she won’t usually let us spend money on her like that.” Bucky smiled a little, “That’s true... I always wanted pin-up pictures of her in nothing but some pricey jewelry and heels.” He sighed and stretched, starting to relax a little and Steve kisses the back of his neck, “Maybe for your birthday... She might do it if I take the pictures.” 

Bucky sighs, “In the morning we'll go hunting while she sleeps it off. She’ll never know what hit her.” Steve nods, “Never. It’s going to fix all this and we’re never gonna let her walk out of here mad again.” 

_______

It’s 3am and the boys are still awake when you stagger through the door, swearing softly as you struggle with your heels. “Fuck shoes,” you grumble, “Fucking foot prisons.” The shoes hit the floor with two disjointed thuds and you throw your keys and your clutch in the bowl on the hall table carelessly. Steve couldn’t help but smile a little. All your carefully applied make up was still mostly in place but you had glitter fucking everywhere. You’d obviously been at a gay bar partying with some of the Queens you’d done make up for in your early days on the club circuit. You were very drunk and very tired. All the anger and adrenaline had long worn off only to be replaced by jager bombs and tequila. The Caffeine hadn’t lasted long in the face of all your sleepless nights. You don’t say another word. 

That’s how they know you’re still mad. You got a mouth, One big enough to tell Bucky his Dick ain’t big enough to talk to you a certain way. One big enough to tell Steve when he’s being an asshole and letting his ego get in the way. But when you’re mad. When you’re really mad, you don’t say a word. You simmer. Quietly. For the ex that had cheated on you and damn near given you herpes, it had culminated in your sending her a cake to work congratulating her on being a cunt. Usually you chewed on a problem until all the flavor was gone and acted according to whatever you had decided on. 

You leaned on the doorway of the kitchen. Sipping from your water bottle. Backlit by the kitchen light you looked feral and fierce. A tough girl. A street kid who clawed her way out of a pit and beat the odds. A woman who found a path and a family. The boys turn to look at you and for a second, they can’t breathe. You’re the best part about this century. Wild and free. They can’t imagine not knowing you. So when you open your mouth, they want to hear you tell them to tuck you in. They want to hear “I love you, lets go to bed.”

They don’t expect to hear, “I’m leaving tomorrow. My flight leaves at 9am.” 

“Leaving?” Bucky asks, bolting to his feet and over the back of the couch. “Where are you going, Sugar?” Steve asked. You shrug, “Dunno. I let Benny buy the tickets. All I know is I should probably pack shorts and my good sandals.” Steve reached for you and you took a step back, still guarded and prickly. Despite every fiber of your pickled being saying you needed to cuddle someone. Steve didn’t press and Bucky hung back further, not wanting to block you in. 

You were very drunk and your emotions were unsettled. Two large men. Even men you loved would probably agitate your fight or flight response. As angry as you were it wouldn’t surprise him if you got a little fighty. Not to hurt them but to get away. 

“When are you coming back?” Bucky asked softly. You shrug, not making eye contact with either one of them, “When the money runs out I guess. I mean. I own the Business. I can pretty much just fuck off. The bars doing fine. No one actually needs me here.” 

That stung. Knowing you were leaving because you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. They needed you. They wanted you. Seeing you now, trying not to cry. Watching you go to sleep on the day bed in the library instead of the bed you shared with them. 

The boys exchange a look and Steve rubs the back of his neck. You’ve never just left. Or voiced wanting to leave. You only got mad at them and went out for a while. Blew off some steam and came back. If not better at least... steady. But right now, you weren’t in check. You weren’t steady physically or emotionally. “I guess we have some more time to plan,” Steve said after a moment. 

“If she comes back,” Bucky said, “For all, we know she’s just going to land somewhere and send for her stuff.”

Steve winced, “She’s not gonna do that, Buck. She can’t. You know that. She loves us. She just. She needs some time.”

_________

The boys hadn’t been to bed when you came out of the bedroom with a hangover and your knapsack. You were traveling light which they supposed was good. Dressed for comfort. You kissed them both on the cheek and left. Not having said one word. Not about where you were going or if you’d miss them. The depression that had set in was like a cloud. You had an aura that was just lost and sad. They both knew it had all gone too far. That they should have said all the things they thought. That they should have made you stay home and fucked the anxious thoughts out of your head. 

When you’re gone, the apartment isn’t home. Not even with each other. It’s just where they sleep. Where they have sex to avoid the silence without you rattling around. Where they keep their stuff. 

They find solace in work. In being busy. They watch your social media. Pictures and stories from a white sand beach somewhere. Warm and beautiful. A whole new world away from Rainy, Cold, Grey, New York. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes really but it’s kind of nice to know that at least you’ve gone somewhere nice. Working on a tan and working your way through books. Learning to surf from an insanely attractive man.  Day drinking in the sun. 

For two weeks, they plan. They try to figure out how to welcome you home. How to show you that they missed you. That they needed you. They need you to not leave like that again. 

______

When you come through the door, bag in hand, skin tanned and pretty. Still smelling slightly of coconut and salt. Everything is quiet. The lights are low and candles flicker in glass holders, clustered here and there. Enough to light your way. Enough to show you flower petals scattered all over the polished wood floors. “Boys?” you call, a little confused. 

You figured you’d come home to your stuff in boxes, packed for you to get out. You keep your steps quiet and you pad down the hall, cautious and a little scared. The bedroom door is slightly ajar and you push it open gently, “Boys?” you repeat. 

In the sweet halo of candlelight, they’re waiting, half-dressed and smiling a little. “We thought you were never coming home,” Steve said softly. “Yeah doll,” he said, “Next trip you take, we’re goin’.” 

When you start to tear up, they pull you close gently, kissing tears away. “We’re sorry, baby girl,” Bucky said softly, “God we missed you.” 

For a moment, as they pull your clothing off tenderly, undressing you to take you to bed, there’s nothing but roaming hands and hungry kisses. You whimper with want and they smile softly, “What do you need, baby?” Steve asked. “I need both of you,” you tell them. “Oh Christ, Baby,” Bucky said, “Yes. Please.” 

After that, there is no talking. They work you open with ease, applying lube liberally so that they can slide inside you easily. So they can sandwich you between them and fuck every negative thought out of your mind.  Until your legs are shaking and you need one of them to carry you to the bath because they won’t hold you. They love it. The feel of you. Your soft cries and wanton fucking moans. By the end of it all, after they’ve spent inside you, they hold you tightly. 

They keep you sandwiched between them, murmuring praise and endearments against your skin. Lavishing attention on you until you’re blushing and stammering. 

“Darlin’, “ Bucky said softly, “You can’t leave me with Steve like that again. He was a winy little punk the whole time.” Steve snorted, “Me? Have you met you?” 

You giggle and Steve covers your face in kisses tenderly, “Not to mention Jordan was here like... 8 times looking for you.” You roll your eyes, “God. He’s worse than like... all of my clients when I was a stripper.” Bucky laughed and kissed your neck, “Another reason you can’t leave... You’re real good at cutting assholes down to size.” 

“And threatening them with broadswords when they try to rob your bar,” Steve added. 

You shrug elegantly, “You don’t need a permit for a broadsword, boys. Guns have too much paperwork.” Bucky slapped the swell of your ass fondly, “Real brains of the operation, Steve. What would we do without her?”

“Bucky, I never want to find out,” he murmured.

Tags:  @lancsnerd​ @stevieang​ @golddaggers​ @blameitonthecauseway @qxeen-of-hearts​ @process-pending​ @xmarveled​ @beautybyfire, @etherealwaifgoddess, @mschellehitt, @mistressoftorture @thorfanficwriter, @ctinadiva, @innerpaperexpertcloud @amalthea9