#I love how physically affectionate she is with stevie

[omg-i-think-i-like-you]

GOOD MORNING TO MEEEE

Robin notices everything when it comes to Steve. Even the things he doesn’t notice about himself.

It’s at Family Video during a slow shift when she walks to where he’s bent over the counter. Her fingers card through his hair and grip, tugging the locks in her fist.

“Your hair’s getting long,” she comments, extending the o in long, “so pretty.”

When he’d usually bat her hand away with a remark of needing a cut, he stays quiet. Instead, she watches as his cheeks tint pink and the corners of his mouth twitch in a smile.

“You should keep growing it.” She says and smiles, tucking strands behind his ears. He nods with a muffled ‘yeah’, chewing on his lower lip.

So he keeps growing it. It touches his shoulders and he keeps playing with it, tucking it behind his ears, tying it back. Max uses his head to teach El how to braid.

He’s sleeping over Robin’s house one night and he’s sitting in the floor next to her desk chair, watching close in fascination as she paints her nails under her light. She glances at him every now and then with a little smile, finishing up her nails as quick as she can. Her smile grows when she turns in her seat to face him.

“Okay, gimme your hands. You’re turn,” she says and his face burns red, stuttering over excuses but Robin’s already grabbed his shaking hand and rested it in her lap. “Do you want this color or a different one?”

“Uh…I thought this one was kinda nice…” Steve says and he reaches on to the desk to pluck a bottle of baby blue polish from her small collection.

“That’s gonna be so pretty with your skin, babe.” Robin gasps and grabs it from his hand, shaking the bottle and cracking it open. When she finishes painting, she blows on his nails, admiring her work. “Well? What do you think?”

Steve takes one of his hands back. He holds it out in front of him, staring at the blue paint on his finger tips. It’s takes a few moments but soon he’s smiling brighter than Robin’s ever seen. He looks at her, his pupils blown with a giddiness she’s grown accustomed to and finds rubbing off on herself. She giggles with him and holds his hands, admiring his nails.

“They’re so pretty,” Steve says, looking between his nails and Robin’s face with such awe she can’t help but reach out and tuck his hair back.

“That’s because you’re so pretty!” She smiles at him, her brain working in overtime. She’s never seen him so happy. Dustin tries to get their attention over the walkie but Robin’s quick to shoot him down with an excuse of “girls night” and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes light up at her words. She keeps painting his nails for him and it takes forever for him to stop hiding his hands at work.

Months pass and Robin takes him out to the mall with her because she needs new clothes for when her aunts and uncles come to visit and she needs to look like a “normal” girl. They’re looking at skirts and Robin hates it more than anything, she’s grimacing at every bit of flowy fabric. But Steve? He’s holding them so delicately in his hands, feeling the material and appreciating the colors.

Robin stands next to him, props her chin on his shoulder and asks “do you wanna try it on?”

Steve’s like a deer caught in headlights. He drops the skirt on the ground with a gasp, crouches down to pick up the hanger, hits his head on the rack as he stands back up. “No, no, Robin. No. I cant.” And he’s shaking his head and hanging the skirt back up but he can’t get the hook on the rack. His hands shake and she can tell he’s getting frustrated so she takes the hanger from his grip and links their arms at the elbow.

“C’mon. Let’s go try it on,” she says and drags him to the dressing room. It takes a bit of work but finally Robin convinces him and she’s tugging his jeans off his ankles and pulling the black skirt up his legs. She looks at him through the mirror while she smooths the material over his legs. It hugs his hips and his butt, makes his waist look oh so skinny and feminine. The fabric flows gently over the tops of his thighs, making his long legs longer, showing off the muscle definition in his calves and thick thighs. “Oh yeah. We’re buying this.”

She gives Steve no room to argue, not like he could with how he’s staring at himself. And if they take an extra ten minutes in the dressing room because he can’t help but start crying, that’s between them and the mirror. Robin carries the skirt to the register, looking at the jewelry hanging by the cashier.

“Ooo, do you think the ruby one or the diamond necklace would look nicer on their skin? We’ve never bought them jewelry before, just haven’t had time to think about it,” Robin says to the cashier and steps out of the way, motioning to Steve behind her. His…their…cheeks are stained pink and they’re staring at Robin with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. She just told this cashier the skirt isn’t for her and then asked about jewelry to go with it.

The cashier looks at them, squints her eyes and nods. “The ruby. Definitely.”

Robin switches to purely androgynous pronouns for the next few years and nobody really questions the gradual changes in Steve. How their hair is always braided and done all nice, why their nails are always changing colors. Dustin even compliments the flick of eyeliner that Nancy has drawn on their lash line. Points to his own eye and says “that stuff on your face? That’s good shit”

Robin and Steve move away together because of course they do. They end up on the west coast, finding solace in the acceptance that is the SoCal gay community. They haven’t seen the kids or anyone from Hawkins in a couple of years, what with them all going off to college and the threat of the end of the world at bay.

Finally, they can invite everyone out for the holidays. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Eleven, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, even Argyle who had gone to Indiana that one time with Jonathan and wouldn’t even consider leaving him behind there and just stayed. They all fly out and it’s this big reunion at their house where they’re all told to dress nice so they can take cute pictures.

Robin is in a new deep maroon pantsuit, her lipstick the same shade as her outfit. She’s greeting the guests and calls on her lovely housemate to leave the kitchen and come say hello.

Out walks Stevie in a dress that matches Robin’s suit, her nails red and her hair curled with the top half of her long locks tied in a ponytail. Everyone’s quick to jump on her, complimenting her look and asking how she’s been. It’s an easy switch for them from Steve to Stevie and referring to her with she/her pronouns just feels right. It takes Mike a second before Nancy smacks him on the arm and he greets his old babysitter with a hug and tells her he likes her perfume. Though in his head, all he’s thinking is “holy shit hot guy from hometown is now hot girl with boobies don’t look at boobies don’t look at boobies don’t look at boobies don’t look-“

Eddie’s just standing there in SHOCK. His whole world has just been flipped upside down (no pun intended). He was positive he was gay, hell, he was crushing on Steve back when he lived in Hawkins. But now he’s staring at this girl, at Stevie, and he’s just blown away. King Steve the Hair Harrington is the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on and oh no, is that his crush coming back to him? With a vengeance??

He walks over to say hello, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles in a way he can brush off as joking if it steps too far, but she’s looking at him with her big brown eyes and a little smile on her face and tucks her hair behind her ear. And her nose scrunches when she giggles and fuck, Eddie’s whipped.

Robin’s been watching them all night, how Eddie sits with a hand on her knee and pulls her seat out at the table.

So there really isn’t any surprise when she wakes up the next morning and Eddie still hasn’t left.

But then again, neither has Nancy😏

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Do you have Stevie hcs

Yup

tons

it’s a problem

How they met:

-Steve has always thought Evie’s pretty, but in a hallway crush way- he never really met her until the incident at the police station, when they’re both sixteen (Stevie police station meetcute is @dallasgallant’s fantastic idea lol and I love it sm)

-Evie was also vaguely aware of Steve before that, but she just knew him as Darry Curtis’s little brother’s angry boyfriend sidekick

-I talked about/drew it in this post, but in more detail, I think the police station incident went like this:

-Evie’s mom dates a lot of not so great guys. Usually they leave Evie alone, but they’re pretty abusive towards her mom. On the day of the police station incident, one of them slapped her mom in the face. So Evie punched him so hard his nose broke.

-And then he called the cops on her. So she got hauled into the police station.

-That’s where she met Steve, who was at the station because he got caught for a bit of petty theft

-Steve hears her arguing with the cops while he’s waiting for Soda to come pick him up, and when she comes out of the office and sits across from him to wait for her Mom to get her, he says something like “You know, your crime was pretty tuff.” And then he cringes because that’s a ridiculous thing to say to someone, especially a really gorgeous girl

-But Evie, who’s had a hard day, actually really needed to hear that. She was standing up for her mom, and her mom didn’t even thank her, and now the cops just yelled at her and honestly scared her for it. She’s actually started second guessing herself- like is she crazy? Should she have hit the guy? Is she in the wrong here?? So it means the world to have Steve tell her he thinks her actions were justified

-She thanks him, because she’s legit close to tears at this point she’s so frazzled

-Steve elaborates on how badass he thinks she is. He rambles about it more than he otherwise would because he genuinely thinks she’s awesome for that, but he also isn’t used to complimenting anyone (especially not pretty girls), so he thinks he’s coming off as so uncool

-But Evie needs that, actually. So when Soda comes to pick Steve up, Evie makes sure she takes note of his name/who he is, and she starts purposefully showing up at the DX to “accidentally run into him”

General relationship h/cs

-All of Evie’s friends think Steve sucks, which is okay because Evie thinks their boyfriends suck too

-Like when she tells Sylvia, who I hc as her best friend, about Steve, Sylvia’s like “Ew, really?! C’mom, him? The one with the teeth? That guy’s such an asshole, I don’t think he’s ever said anything nice in his life.” Slyvia mainly knows Steve as an annoying friend of Dally’s, who has the same temper and poor attitude but none of the cool rebel allure. (Part of this disdain is that Sylvia just doesn’t find Steve attractive, like at all, so in her head he’s just a worse person)

-And Evie’s like “You can’t say that, you’re dating Dallas Winston.” (Evie thinks Dally is both unattractive and horrible to be around)

-Steve’s friends all love Evie though

-Soda thinks she’s so cool- he’d be jealous (of both of them) if he didn’t have Sandy (for now 😭)

-Evie is the only person Steve feels comfortable showing his deeper feelings. She’s pretty open about her own, so Steve can let himself be more sensitive around her without feeling like a total sissy. I mean, he’s open around Soda too, but honestly less. He still kinda wants Soda to think he’s cool, yk? Evie though is so open about how cool she thinks he is that he can let his guard down easier. (I mean, due to traditional gender norms, especially in the 60s, it’s easier for Evie to be open than it is for Soda or Steve I think)

-They’re both pretty physical- Evie may not wrestle people or affectionately punch them, but she likes physical touch too. Just with her it’s usually like. Less aggressive. She does get a little more aggressive with Steve though to kinda match his energy (translation- they both like PDA a lot)

-Evie’s tried arm wrestling Steve a handful of times- she hasn’t won yet

-But she has carried him before lol- he’d never admit it, but he loves it (He doesn’t need to admit it tho, she can tell)

-Evie’s good with reading people, but especially Steve. She can see right through his bravado and the more preformative aspects of his personality- like how he’s always wearing sleeveless things, obsessively checking his hair, the way he’s always gotta have attention or he’ll just die- and she thinks it’s honestly so cute. Like, he’s not just a cool tough hood, he’s also a dumb teen boy. And she finds that really endearing

-Steve finds her brain really attractive, but also very much her looks. That sounds shallow- hear me out. My version of Evie doesn’t see always see herself as conventionally good-looking- she’s a mixed race girl in a very white part of town, raised by a white mother who doesn’t know how raise a non-white kid, in the 19-fucking-60s. She’s tall, and not the most thin- she’s used to feeling too big, too dark, too much, from how she looks to how she acts to how she is. So having Steve see all that- all her emotions, all her anger, her height, her hair, her everything- and yet see her as the hottest chick in Tulsa and also probably the whole world matters so much to her. She’s never felt like she fits into the proper mold of good wholesome femininity and it kills her, so the fact that Steve sees her as the epitome of The Perfect Girl makes her feel so much better about herself. (I know this attitude probably sounds kind of dated, but uh. Again, it’s the 60s. So.)

-Similarly, Steve’s not always the most confident in his looks even if he acts like he is. Being best buddies with a universally beloved guy like Soda occasionally does make him feel like he’s ugly by comparison. Especially with his teeth and height and the fact that he’s less lean and slender than Soda- Steve’s shorter and hasn’t lost his baby fat and it feels lousy. (Little bit of Steve angst- I h/c that girls have gone out with him in the past just to get closer to Soda. It seriously fucked with his head, because he was so jealous and angry with Soda, but also loves and adores Soda, and it’s not Soda’s fault that he’s good looking and Steve isn’t… ) (Steve is still perfectly alright looking, even if Soda’s more conventionally attractive- but he’s also less friendly/charismatic than Soda) Anyway, having Evie go for him over Soda feels like a big deal- It’s happened before of course, but never with a girl he liked as much as he likes Evie

-Steve used to like reading, but he slowly stopped over time because he’s a JD and books are for sensitive babies like Ponyboy. But when Evie recommends books to him, he reads them and talks to her about them. He wants to understand her and all the things she loves

-In turn, Evie talks to him about cars- she likes cars too, but admittedly not as much as Steve does. Still, she’ll go with him to every motor show and often helps him out at the DX. She used to help her dad work on cars back when he was alive, and so she knows about as much about them as Steve does anyhow

-In springtime, Steve steals flowers from his neighbors’ yards and leaves them in Evie’s locker at school

-One time Ponyboy and Two-Bit catch him with the flowers, and they both make fun of him so hard for “going soft”

-Legit though, for Evie, he is completely soft. She could stab him if she wanted and he’d thank her (she would never do that but you get the idea)

-One time she convinced him to let her do his eyeliner. He thought it was ridiculous, but only protested a little- plus, it meant getting to stare into her eyes and admire her face for the whole time she was drawing it on, and he can’t complain about that

-When they first started dating, Steve was real insecure because he’s 5’7 and Evie’s 5' 7.5- and in the go go boots she always wears, she’s 5’9. And Dally would often make fun of him for being shorter than his girl which just made things worse. Deep down he was also kind of…physically into their slight height difference, which confused him so much. Over time though he got over the discomfort- besides, he might be shorter than her, but he’s still bigger/stronger than her so it doesn’t hurt his masculinity too much anymore

-Steve realizes he loves her when he gets sent to the cooler for lifting hubcaps. As he’s being handcuffed, Evie starts to cry- both at being disappointed in him, and from being scared for him. And for the first time since he was a little innocent happy kid, Steve reconsiders whether he wants to be a hood. Because if it makes Evie this upset…is it really worth it? And that freaks him out, because the only other person he’s ever cared that much about not disappointing is Soda

-Evie has loved him a little bit ever since they first met and he understood her when no one else did- but she falls in love with him when she’s had a fight with her mom and Steve comes over. He had been at some thrilling drag race with Soda, but he dropped everything to make sure she was okay as soon as he heard. Once he’s there, he listens to her talk, takes her seriously, and she’s never felt so understood and seen. And she knows then that she’s found someone who gets her in a way no one else does

-Evie steals Steve’s sweatshirts and jackets and occasionally even his jeans. In return, Steve wears her (more androgynous looking) jewelry- like her rings and chains and whatever. She almost convinced him to let her pierce his ears so that he could steal her earrings too- he chickened out at the last minute, less because of the pain and more because he didn’t wanna be seen as girly or gay (even though he is for Soda). Maybe someday when Steve’s older and more secure in his masculinity he’ll let her do it though

-Privately, Steve has already planned out how he’s gonna propose to her. He doubts he’ll go through with it until after Evie’s finished college, but he knows he wants to marry her someday

[pouringmyheartoutforpaper]

imagine dove doesn’t believe touch can actually feel as good and comforting and enjoyable as people say— she’s not affectionate with one physically, pretty much borderline touch aversion, really. no one’s ever wanted to be touchy with her anyway. but she reads, a lot. and each description of how someone’s touch can impact you positively always boggles her. holding hands, sex, kissing, forehead touches, hugs, any touch. wanting to be attached to someone? holding them and being held and just always wanting to cuddle up to someone? spending hours cuddling? absolutely mind-boggling! until steve proves her wrong.

dove doesnt have a lot of experience, and the experience she does have was bad, to say the least. so after that she just assumes its not supposed to feel good for her. when she reads she craves that feeling, but nobody has ever touched her right. theres one embarrassing time when she was with steve and robin and she had joked “sex doesnt even feel good, i dont get the big deal.” but instead of them laughing and agreeing, they just stared in shock. in that moment steve wanted to find whoever had made you feel that way before and personally obliterate them. not even just the jealousy, but the anger that someone was so lucky as to touch his dove and they didn’t even make her feel good. but dove is oblivious.

but she does notice that when she touches steve she does feel the spark. the electricity. steve makes her feel like the love stories she reads. makes her feel as if she is trapped inside a book. and when they do start dating, she blushes every time they touch. he starts by pushing her hair back every moment he can, because he loves how she chases his touch. and over the next few weeks she finds herself addicted to his touch. she is always tucked into her stevies side, hugging him, holding his hand, kissing him, cuddling, and every other touch ever. and hes more than happy to indulge her because touch is his love language. and after a few months stevie takes her home and makes love to her and shes in heaven. every touch has her moaning and gripping him. he shows her how he can make her feel good, touch her and make her cum. how he can kiss her and love on her while he has his fingers inside her. how he can touch her with nothing but pure and loving intentions.

[creedslove]

This is going to be really stupid but I felt really weird about the new photos of Pedro and Dakota at the Stevie Nicks concert.

A part of me is like 😭✨😭❤️❤️ because he's gorgeous but I had to go for a walk for a while and get off social media because I was feeling bad and I don't have to.

I think it is also important to step away and know how to set limits on the hours in which one uses networks.

I am aware that this is ridiculous but the fact that this has bothered me in some way or made me feel bad has more to do with me and that I should set limits with the content I consume.

I belong to a great fandom, Pedro's, and I would be very happy for him if he is happy, but I wouldn't want to ruin how nice it is to be in the fandom through harmful and toxic behavior.

I wanted to vent.

Pedro genuinely looks happy and handsome and he seems to be having a great time, he deserves it a lot.

❤️❤️❤️

Hey baby, first of all, it's very sweet of you to chose me to vent, it makes me feel glad to know you feel safe enough to vent about that and I promise you you won't be judged at all ❤️

It's not stupid though, it's relevant for you and it's your feelings, your feelings are involuntary, you cannot choose to feel a certain way or another, so it's okay baby...

I guess everyone felt a lil jealous of Pedro today, even if we all know they are good friends, they did look like a couple in some pictures, but that's alright, he is very affectionate and I guess physical touch is his love language, she isn't the first one he touches like that and it won't be the last one, and you are right about how happy he was, it's incredible to see him having so much and clearly enjoying the concert around his friends, it was very sweet.

I guess what we all felt jealous of was the fact we wanted to be in that situation, to hang out with him, have him all dorky, sweet and excited ❤️ however, feeling that intensity of jealousy the way you did, in which it made you feel bad and you had to step away from social media for a while isn't normal, but I'm glad to see you are aware of that as well, I am no expert, but I guess it reflects some type of emotional void in which you try to fill it with Pedro? It's good to look up into that honey, so you can see what can be done about it and prevent yourself from getting hurt like that... But at the same time, as I said, feelings are involuntary, and you can't help feeling that way...

I really hope you'll feel better about all this and that it won't happen again, I know how painful it is to be jealous (I was a very jealous person when I was a teenager) and I used to feel jealous of everyone, famous people, my friends, family members etc, and it's a horrible feeling, because I very often put people in an uncomfortable situation (my friends) and I suffered so much, so I get it, on a level I get what you felt baby 💘

I'm always here for you if you want to vent or talk about it, I can't promise to answer your ask that fast because I haven't spent a long time here lately, but whenever I can, I will reply! I love you, you are not alone honey! ❤️❤️❤️ You're always welcome to stop by, okay? Love you 😘

[thefanbasewhore]

Can you do a soulmate Stucky x reader? I feel like you would write that so well, especially how you portrayed bucky in "are you mad at me" was so soft. The soulmate version would be so cute

Summary || Bucky and Steve meet their soulmate, which they had no idea existed.

Warning/content || fluff, a small explicit scene, fighting. Soulmate AU.

Paring || Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve rogers

I got a little carried away, but enjoy ❤️ not edited or beta read but I'm sleepy 😴

Bucky and Steve have had each other from the moment they have met. Imaging their surprise, being two little boys from Brooklyn seeing colors, something the two agreed to hide, pending the time period.

It was different now, a different time. They were accepted and while both of them loved each other, so very much, especially through the mind control, fighting each other, then for each other. They always knew something was missing.

A color, maybe even two, three. A part of them missing but they both collectively came to the conclusion that it was just that. Some missing colors, it happens sometimes.

It happens when they least expect it.

After Thanos, after Tony finally deciding to leave that kind of life behind, buying a small two bedroom house on the outskirts of the city. A home to grow old in, be together for the first time since before the war started but only one thing prevented that.

The house was a disaster, gutted to the foundations, no running water, green moss outside covered the whole house, the lawn completely out of control. For Bucky it was a hard no, it was a dump but the moment Steve fluttered those ridiculously long lashes, how could he say no?

So here they are, sweating on this 90 degree day, putting up new dry wall with no air-conditioning.

"What color should it be?" Steve asks, glancing to his dark haired lover, taking notice of his now shirtless appearance. Bucky let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Maybe we should get all of the walls up first."

Steve clicks his tongue, "I like the color green, like a nice pastel mint green."

"Whatever you want, honey." Bucky wasn't too picky, besides whatever made Steve happy, made him happy.

"Hello?" A sweet, feminine voice came from the kitchen. The doors left open because of the heat, there was nothing much in here anyways.

Steve pulls away from his task, pulling his shirt over his head to wipe his forehead with it. "Come in, we are in the kitchen."

Bucky wasn't too alarmed, Steve had told him previously that he hired a someone to make up the yard, nothing too fancy but the both of them were completely clueless when it came to plants, or gardens period.

"Quite a project you have going on here, Mr. Rogers." No doubt taking in the half gutted house along the way. While they have never met, they spoke on the phone briefly about his wants.

"You have no idea, Hun."

The woman looks around the kitchen first, noticing the freshly painted cabinet, the smell a dead giveaway, half eaten burgers thrown to the side on a small, make shift table with barely enough room to fit.

At first glance towards the man she notices the sharp jawline, defined but soft feature of the blonde as she greets him with a smile which soon drops in confusion as small dots of color appear. Stormy blue eyes with a full beard, Steve's mouth dropping agape as he notices the splirts of color - the missing colors for 106 years finally appear.

Bucky notices the tension in the room, shifting his attention from the wall to Steve, noticing how intensely he's staring, Bucky follows the line of vision and meets sweet eyes.

She's hit with another line of color, different from Steve's but now there's no more gray hue, bright yellows and blues. The outside is suddenly so bright and Bucky mouth drops.

This cannot be happening.

They sit there and stare for what seems like hours.

"I - ugh.." she starts, "What is happening?"

***

Sometimes life just throws curve balls, like finding out that your soulmate or in this cause soulmates are two, one hundred year old super soldiers who have already been in love with each other for over a decade.

The pull is already strong, nature intended for these souls to be together until death due part and honestly Bucky could feel it. With Steve he was used to the urge of wanting to have him close, kiss him every free minute he has but with the woman in front of him, it's new.

He doesn't even know her name, watches the way she nervously flickers from Steve's gaze to his own. She's beautiful.

Strong but delicate features, the curve of her nose is cute, cupid lips are so full... kissable. He can't stop staring, even with Steve and her in the mist of conversation. The make shift table cleared of all prior mess, Buck and Steve have to share a chair, which is quite comical, seeing two giant supersoldier try to share a small, old, dinning room seat.

Bucky's metal fingers twitch, metal plate click and whirl to life as he tights to urge to map her face out with his fingers. His heart is beating so fast, filled with so much... Love? Joy?

No matter how much Steve and Bucky try to hide it.. deep down they always knew, something was missing and in this case, someone.

"You're beautiful." The words catch both her and Steve off guard, Bucky blushes red something terrible but the sweet smile defuses the fire.

Well until she says something back, "You are too."

His whole face is hot and Steve reaches over to affectionately rub the back of his shoulder. Of course Steve was calm, he always is.

He handles things with lots of thought and understanding, while Buck is more hot headed, acts on the moment.

***

"It doesn't feel right." Bucky comments, watching from the window to insure she safely gets into the car. Steve sighs, by the time they're done talking darkness has filled the house. Steve affectionately squeezes the brunette's bicep, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"I know Bucky. This is a lot for her, for us. She needs to take time and reflect on this. She'll come to us when she's ready."

Bucky knows nothing then her name, and love for plants but chews at his bottom lip nervously. She's too far, the bond pulls at his heart strings. Now bonded forever. "What if she never comes back?"

"She will."

***

A few days pass, the kitchen is finally done, new appliances, new china and kitchen fully stocked. Steve is making something for Dinner - it smells amazing while Bucky starts painting the walls of the lifeless living room.

It's bare, not even something to sit on but no doubt with the stamina of two super soldiers it will be done by next week.

The knock on the front door is unexpected, but Bucky replies quickly. "I got it, Stevie!"

He expects some older, much wrinkly neighbor to be complaining about the noise of the nail gone or something this late at night. His mouth drops, a little shocked at the sight of her.

A very formal sitting dress, long and black, dips into a sweetheart neckline, the valley of her breasts easily visible. Hair is thrown into a neat updo, sexy and sleek.

Bucky clears his throat. "Hi." He squeaks out, feeling like a total idiot as he watches her nervously shift her weight from one heel to the other.

"Hi, I was in the area. A wedding for one my clients, thought I'd come say hello." Bucky wants to shake his head in disbelief that something so beautiful, just like Steve is made for him.

The universe sculpted and made two beautiful, breath taking human beings to be his and it's overwhelming. She's so pretty it's alarming.

It was a good excuse, the truth but not the real reason she stopped by. How could she tell them that they have been on her mind none stop? It physically hurts to be away for so long.

"Who is it, Buck?" Steve mumbles, interrupting the thick tension between the two.

"Come in, doll." Bucky's helps her with the jacket that lays over his shoulders, mentioning his head towards the direction of the kitchen, where his other lover is.

Steve is stunned none the less, he at least expected a few more days. Also, feeling much like Bucky, amazed by the radiating beauty.

He decides to play it cool, dimples forming with a breath taking smile. "Do you like spaghetti?"

Hours pass, time moves so fast with conversation, and adding wine to the mix surely didn't help.

The trio once again in the kitchen, but this time each have a chair, a new, more comfortable dinning set.

"You got this done fast. It's beautiful." She comments, "Colors are beautiful, I guess I have you two to thank for that."

Bucky shifts in his seat, the glass of wine is useless but still finds himself sipping from it. Her eyes are red, watery with a slight buzz.

"Do you feel it?" The question has both Bucky and Steve look at each other, watching her teary eyes as she presses a hand to sooth the ache in her chest. "It hurts, it hurts to be away. All week."

"It's normal." Steve answers just above a whisper, his next words make Bucky's bottom lip quiver. "I felt it every day for the last 5 years, Bucky was gone."

Bucky had never thought about it - there hasn't been enough time to. It's only been a month later since the return and it never occurred to him what Steve has gone through.

"Steve.." He starts, tears kiss his waterline as his fingers run through the blonde's hair. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't know, I -."

"Couldn't prevent it Buck. It happened but you're here now and.." Steve turns his attention towards the girl, tears slip past her eyelids. It's for Steve, for Bucky.. all the pain and suffering they've been through. "Hey, don't cry, it's alright beautiful."

It's feels right, despite barely knowing the man, nothing feel more right then being pulled into his chest as a large metal hand comforts her in a different way, rubbing the loose strands of hair as he murmurs. "We've got you now, you're our other half."

***

Months have past from that day. The house is finally done, everything they could have imagined with the additional of an extra tooth brush in the cup that sits on the bathroom sink, a pile of fuzzy blankets at the bottom of the bed and a five year old chocolate lab. Steve didn't mind much, he's always loved dogs, Bucky on the other hand...

"Alright, alright, Maverick." Bucky huffs, grocery bags in hand as the dog excitedly nuzzles his legs, following him throughout the house like it wasn't only an hour ago he's seen him. Once putting the bags down, hears the whine, big brown eyes staring up at him. Bucky sighs, dropping to a knee before petting the pup's head. "Alright you mutt, don't tell anyone about this."

"Too late, pal." Bucky jumps, hearing the amusement in Steve's voice, followed by the giggle of the woman that peers out from behind him. Wrapping her arms around Steve before testing her head against his shoulder.

"Caught you red handed, you love Mav." Bucky grumbles at her words, feeling two smaller hands wrap around his waist as a head falls into his chest. He presses a soft kiss into her hair before taking in the blonde that barely fits through the doorway he leans against.

Bucky's free hand reaches out, mentioning him closer but as she's soon finds herself in the middle of a super soldier sandwich. "Hi, baby." Bucky presses a kiss to the blonde's lips.

"Hi, pal."

***

"It's only one mission. That's it, we will be in and out." Steve promises, not liking the way his girls face twist into a worried expression.

Heavy eyes, lower lip sticking out to pout. "What if something happens? If you get hurt? Or if they find you, Bucky?"

"I told you, Hydra is gone, honey." Bucky's large hands sooth over her tight shoulders, pressing soft kisses to the back of her upper traps.

"No. You still have nightmares at least three times a week. This can't be good for you. And you." She turns her attention back towards Steve, "Barely sleep four hours a night. You carry the fault on your shoulders, you don't need anymore. I don't want you two to go."

"We don't have a choice. They were my family once, I owe this to them." Steve didn't miss the way her lips moves to form a snarl, not sparing another glance as she makes a b-line for the stairs.

Bucky sighs, leaning against the wall. "She's going to be mad at us." Rubbing his chest with hopes to ease the burn.

The bond pulls at their hearts, a slow, painful punishment for their actions.

They return two weeks later, tired, just wanting to see their girl. The moment they walk into the house they look at each other with will wild eyes, heart pumping as they fear the worse. The dog, the annoying wiggling tail that would bark is one where to be found, something is wrong.

It's alarming. "Where is that freaking mutt?"

Steve calls her name, but there is no answer. Bucky and him are searching the house, ascending the stairs, opening the bedroom door with a deep sigh of relief.

The stupid dog takes up half of the bed, but is cuddled into his owner. Arm draped around the ball of fur, amount as long as her.

The dog lifts his head, a little tail waggle as Steve stretches his ears, lowering to his knees and laying his top half over the bed to press loud, audible kisses to his ears. "Good boy, protecting our girl while we are gone."

When morning comes she notices the dog is still pressed against her, licking small stripes against her cheeks. "Have to go out, buddy?"

She barely makes it five steps before tripping over two rather large bodies, sleeping on a makeshift bed on the floor. Bucky groans and Steve's eyes flicker open.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Wanted you to sleep pretty girl. Mav was taking up all the room and you looked like an angel." Bucky hums in agreement despite his eyes being closed.

"Mmm, well it's all free now." It's short, simple but the sarcastic tone has Bucky's eyes flickering to meet his boyfriend's. They both sigh, staring up at the ceiling, knowing it's going to be a long day.

And it is. She's does whatever she can to get away from them, only answers with short replies to the point Bucky can't take it anymore.

"Sweetheart," Bucky tries again but she doesn't acknowledge him, eyes stayed glued to the book. He gets fed up, metal plates click as artificial appendages run over the binding and pull it from her grasp.

"Give it back, James."

He cringes at the name, a displeased frown wears his face. "No, you have to talk to us."

"No."

"You're bring a brat." Bucky starts, watching her expression change from annoyed to anger, wrinkles of frustration pinch between her eyebrows.

"Buck - don't say that to her." Steve comments, it's his fault, he's the one who said yes without confiding in her first.

"She is, it's over with now. She has no right to be this mad."

"No right?" Her chest fills with emotion as a humourless chuckle causes both men to stiffen. "No right? Huh Buck? I sat here for two full weeks, no communication, nothing while the two of you are out there fighting God knows what after you swore, promised you would always be with me. Don't promise me forever if you're just going to throw yourself in danger! You're going to die and leave me, or worse! Both of you will."

No one says a word, only watch as her chest rises and falls with deep, heavy pants despite the tears that rolls past her eyes lashes.

"Honey, I'm sorry -."

"I don't want to hear it James, and you." She turns towards Steve, fire in her soul. "I thought you would understand, more then him, considering it has happened to you."

She leaves the room without another word, Buck turns towards Steve, watching the way he fights the tears that gather. The pain of loosing Bucky is still so fresh, "She's right Buck, we fucked up."

"I know, I know." He mumbles into Steve's shoulder, pulling him close.

***

"You're so good to me, sweet girl." Bucky moans as she shifts her hips against him, the blunt end of his cock hitting the spot inside her that makes her squeal for more.

Large hands squeeze her hips as Steve leans over to find his boyfriend's lips, kissing him through the gasps and whines of their girl's name as she circles her hips around Bucky.

Steve's hands pull at his hair, lips trailing from his lips, down his cheeks before nipping at his jaw.

"How does he feel honey?"

"So good, Stevie." For a second he's in a trance, watching the way her face contours with pleasure and the pain of her third orgasm well on its way.

Steve lays next to Buck, hand wrapping around his own heaviness between his legs as he stokes it, switching between her face of pleasure to Bucky's, who bites his lip to suppress a moan.

It's short lived as hips stutter against her own, coating her walls with his warm cum.

Steve barely gives her time to recover, positioning her on his hands and knees before hovering over her ear and nibbling on it. "My turn, honey."

***

Her hands nervously shake, the kitchen table is all set up, dinner is ready but at the moment she doesn't have an appetite.

Between this morning sickness, the overall change her body is under going, food makes her sick. The opening of the front door makes her sit up straight, sucking in a deep breath.

Two voices conversationing in the hall, "I thought I said for you to lock the door when we leave." Buck is clearly annoyed, it's been a long day but Steve rubs his shoulders, mumbling something incoherent.

Upon entering the kitchen, they both grow worried. Face drained of color, red blotchy eyes with shaky hands.

"Hey, hey." Steve drops to his knees in front of her seat in an instant, hands curling around her wrist as worried steel blue eyes follow his stance, reaching over to stroke her cheek. "What is it? What happened?"

"I'm pregnant." She pauses, "I'm scared, I'm scared. What if someone comes for you? How are we supposed to raise a baby? What if it has the serum, will it ever be safe?"

The questions fill Bucky with dread, how much though put into every sentence, every word is like a new hit of pain to his body but he stays strong. For his girl, he leans forward, wiping the tears away from discolored cheeks. "Everything is going to be fine babydoll, you're going to be fine, our baby is going to be fine."

[not-withoutyou]

Steve’s Ma wouldn’t have minded if she knew Bucky had spent the night, even though Bucky’s parents would’ve taken issue. She adored him — whether the dimples or the way he never called her anything but ma’am or Miss Sarah; or because she was operating under the assumption that he kept Steve out of trouble. Maybe it was the way Bucky would help with chores without being asked. Either way, Steve’s Ma loved them both. Steve knew how lucky he was.

What she would have minded, however, was the alcohol missing from her cabinet. He and Bucky were both sort-of-kind-of lightweights. It was unlikely they’d drink enough for his Ma to notice if they replaced it with a little water. As they sat on the floor, passing the bottle between them, Bucky remarked that Steve was going to be tipsy after only a few sips. Steve might’ve told him to shut up, but Bucky was right — he drank too fast, like they were on the verge of getting caught, and the tolerance wasn’t there.

“Slow down, ace, you’ll give yourself a headache.” Bucky poked him in the cheek.

Steve batted his hand away with a smirk. “I’m Irish, Buck, I can hold my liquor.” (He couldn’t, it went straight to his head.) But Bucky wasn’t actually that far behind him.

The first time they’d drank together, Bucky worried aloud if he’d be like his Pop. He’d gotten very serious and asked Steve to tell him if he got mean — said that if he was mean, he’d never drink again. (Bucky was nothing like his father.)

A crease appeared between Bucky’s eyebrows as he raised the bottle to his lips again. Screwing the cap back on, he stood up and offered his hands out as an invitation to dance to the music on the radio. It warmed Steve all the way down to his toes; they curled in his newspaper-lined shoes. It was easy like this. Steve could playfully shove Bucky’s shoulder, could throw his head back and laugh because Bucky was funny.

Bucky sang loudly and off-key until a neighbor pounded against the wall in complaint of the noise, sending them into a fit of muffled laughter. Humming the rest of the song instead, he swept an arm around Steve’s tiny waist to hold him closer, and took smaller steps to keep him lighter on his feet. (Steve stepped on his toes, but Bucky didn’t complain.)

The night stretched into early hours of the morning, into slow conversations. Head swimming, Steve sat down on the edge of his bed, the wrong way on the mattress, so his legs were dangling off when he flopped backwards. White splotches of moonlight dashed against the walls and over Bucky where he was splayed out on the quilt next to him, arms akimbo and that perpetual smirk on his face. Steve stuck a freckled hand out to watch the way the dim light made shapes and shadow.

Bucky giggled. Honest-to-God giggled. Such a happy drunk, Bucky was sweet when he got like this. Uncoordinated, perhaps, like the rest of his body was trying to acclimatize to how long his legs had suddenly gotten. He was affectionate and maybe a fraction more touchy-feely than sobriety allowed, but that was okay here with no one but the alley outside the window and patchwork fabric to play witness. He reached up to grab Steve’s hand right out of the air, entwining their fingers. And his energy was infectious — Steve’s chest was full of sunlight.

Steve sometimes got sad and introspective when he drank, which wasn’t often. He sometimes cast a line into troubled waters; stared too deeply into the abyss and the abyss stared back. But not this night.

Scooting further up the blanket, he dropped his head to Bucky's chest, liking the way the beat of his heart sounded. Well, he felt it more than heard it. His bad ear was flush to Bucky’s chest, so he could listen to him talk with his good ear.

Bucky froze for a beat, because they were too close — but they were always too close. Metaphorically and physically. The boundary lines were a little malleable like this, three sheets to the wind. Steve knew that, and he knew Bucky would tell him if something wasn’t okay. The world was still spinning, but Bucky was a safe place to rest. It was too dark for him to read Bucky’s face properly, but that was alright — Bucky was relaxing and situating an arm around his shoulders. Steve could only just make out the cleft in his chin and his lopsided smile, his cheeks that hadn’t quite lost their boyish softness. But they weren’t kids anymore — Bucky was almost 17. Friday after school, Steve had seen him kissing Dot, that pretty redhead. An inevitability— dames liked Bucky. It had no right to make Steve so sad.

Steve concluded that it must have been because he’d never been kissed. He was jealous — that was it. He wanted to turn to Bucky and say, ‘teach me, I don’t know how’. Bucky had such a pretty mouth. It would probably be so nice to kiss — probably tasted just like stolen bourbon. Steve shoved that thought away so quickly it made him dizzier. Because it scared him. Because that wasn’t something that friends did. Sober enough to keep those ideas to himself, he knew he was pushing his luck; was wrong enough for just lying here with Bucky, was wrong for holding his hand. He wasn’t Dot, and he wasn’t a dame, and he wasn’t pretty —

Face too hot, Steve made a halfhearted move to pull away, but Bucky reached out to clasp his hand again, to hold it to his chest. The side of his hand brushed Steve’s nose.

“What d’ya think?”

“Bout what?” Steve slurred. Tired-eyed, Bucky was looking down at him for an answer to a question he hadn’t heard. He should’ve been listening.

A chuckle reverberated under Steve’s ear. Bucky gave his hand a squeeze. “Keep up, Stevie.” But he was smiling. Glassy eyed, shining. “Wanna go to Coney Island on my birthday. Shouldn’t be too cold.”

“Mhm. Whatever you want, pal, it’s your day. Just us?”

“Course.” Bucky would be asleep soon — Steve could hear it in his voice.

Read the full fic on Ao3

[in-singh]

Peter & Sarah for the ship meme

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet? Collided on the sidewalk.

What was their first impression of each other? Peter thought she looked like a startled chipmunk.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? Not to Peter's knowledge.

Who felt romantic feelings first? Sarah, probably. Peter’s far too aloof.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Peter, probably.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? Peter would be pleasantly surprised. Sarah's a darling woman.

What would their lives be like if they had never met? Ernest would probably actually like Peter.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? Both of them did, and it was awkwardly cute.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? Peter took her back to Gunter's for a real treat, not just tea.

What was their first kiss like? Slow, sweet.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? Peter is fairly experienced, but this would be his first monogamous relationship.

What’s their height difference? Age difference? Sarah is almost an entire foot shorter than Peter, and he is three years older.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families? Neither have a close acquaintance with each other's immediate families, though his Grandmother finds Sarah lovely.

Who takes the lead in social situations? Usually Sarah

Who gets jealous easier? Maybe Sarah

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear? Peter does this to get a rise out of Sarah

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first? They said it at the same time.

What are their primary love languages? Words of affirmation and Acts of service. Sarah aids him and he praises her for it.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines? Peter

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? Neither of them are so affectionate, but Peter enjoys holding her hand

Who initiates kisses? They both do

Who’s the big and little spoon? Sarah is the little spoon

What are their favorite things to do together? Help others.

Who’s better at comforting the other? Peter's good at calming Sarah down, but she is warm and calming to him as well.

Who’s more protective? Peter, easily.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? Verbal.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise? For Once in My Life - Stevie Wonder, Enchanted - Taylor Swift, I Try - Macy Gray

What kind of nicknames do they call each other? Peter calls her Sare, Bear, and my beloved.

Who remembers the little things? They both do.

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes? Peter, but it’s a whole mess.

What’s the wedding like? Who attends? Their immediate families, and close friends.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like? They have five, the last two are twins. All are kind and intelligent.

Do they have any pets? No. They’re both allergic.

Who’s the stricter parent? Sarah

Who worries the most? Sarah

Who kills the bugs in the house? Peter

How do they celebrate holidays? With her family and his grandmother.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning? Peter

Who’s the better cook? Sarah

Who likes to dance? Sarah

[carrotmakar]

I saw someone on twitter talking about Harry naming one of his kids after Stevie and then telling her that they are naming them that and now I am losing my mind at the idea

Stevie

Pairing: Dad!Harry Styles x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 1,152

Summary: Harry wants to name his daughter Stevie, and she has a priceless reaction when you tell her about it.

Warning(s): Dad Harry, Harry being forgetful, Stevie being the queen that she is, nothing serious really, just soe stuff that makes me want to cry in the best way.

A/N: I did not see the tweet that the anon is talking about, but I think the idea was really cute and just had to write something about it :) Idk if this was a request or just talking about it but I thought it would be a cute little blurb (more like fic lol I can’t keep things short for the life of me) idea.

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist here

Request anything here but make sure to look over my guidelines first!

*

“You want to name our daughter Stevie?” you ask, knowing that Stevie Nicks was his idol. You weren’t as surprised as you probably should be, his drunken nights while the both of you were still in college having let you know that he would ‘enjoy it very much if you let the child be named after Stevie.’

“Well, yeah. But only if you want to, she’s your daughter too.” He gives you a knowing look, letting you know that if you were in any way against the name, the idea would automatically be forgotten. 

“No, I don’t think I’d be against it, Stevie Styles has quite the ring to it, don’t you think?” You smile at him and grab his hands, wanting him to know that you’re not just doing this for him. “Do you think she would freak out?”

He looks confused, “Who?” 

You lightly giggle, thinking that the answer was obvious. “Stevie, honey. Don’t you think that we should tell her that we’re naming our daughter after her?” He grimaces, and you instantly look confused, why wouldn’t he want to tell Stevie? “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. Could just let her find out through other people.”

“No, no. I want to tell her.” He quickly reassures you.

“Then why the face?” You wonder.

“I- Well, you see. I may have accidentally forgotten to tell her that you’re pregnant.” The look on his face is priceless, he definitely feels guilty for not telling the woman that got the two of you together that you were expecting his child.

“Harry Edward Styles, how do you just forget to tell Stevie Nicks that I’m going to be giving birth in less than a month?” You ask.

“I don’t know, I don’t know. It just slipped my mind, I guess. I’ve been too busy reminding myself that this is real. I haven’t told anyone else either.” You think about it for a moment and realize that he’s right. You’ve been the one telling people that weren’t around you every day. And you have noticed that he’s been a lot more physically affectionate with you lately, which is saying a lot since your relationship was already heavy on the loving touches. Not that it’s a bad thing, but you could definitely understand why he was doing so now that he was actually talking about it.

“She’s going to freak out, we have to call her, H.” He looks a little scared, as if Stevie will really be mad at him, but you know that she’ll just pretend to be and then be really happy for the two of you. Stevie knows what it’s like to be busy.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s call her.” Harry gets up to get his computer, coming back with the line ringing. 

Stevie answers just as he had situated the computer so that both of your faces were on the screen. From the angle that it was at, Stevie wouldn’t be able to see that you were expecting, so Harry would still be able to take her by surprise.

“Hey lovebirds, what’s going on with you guys?” Stevie begins, a huge smile on her face.

“Hey, Stevie!” You say, smile as big as hers glued to your features. Your day always lit up when you talked to her.

“Um, yeah, about that…” Harry begins. You look over at him, shooting him a glare that says ‘yeah, that’s a good way to start it.’

Her face drops almost instantly at his tone, “Harold, what did you do? Did you mess it up? Y/N, please tell me he didn’t do something stupid.”

“Well, he did do something stupid, but we’re fine, I promise.” You assure her, watching the smile slowly return to her face.

“What did you do, Harry?” She asks.

“Um, so I may have forgotten to tell you a little something.” He says, hanging his head.

After a few seconds of him not saying anything she blurts out a, :Well spit it out already, I’m not going to live forever.”

“Shush, Stevie. Yes you are. You’re too iconic to not live forever.” Harry says.

“Stop sweet talking her and just tell her.” You say and he shoots you a glare.

“Um, yeah, so I may have forgotten to tell you that Y/N is pregnant.” Stevie’s eyes grow wide in disbelief.

“You’re expecting?” She seems shocked and you can’t blame her, you were shocked too.

“Yeah, and there’s one more thing.” Harry tries to say, but Stevie’s already talking.

“How far along are you? I want to throw the baby shower.” She looks ecstatic and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m due in a little less than a month.” You admit, watching her jaw drop.

“Okay, so I’ll just have to work faster.” 

“Actually, Stevie, there’s something we wanted to ask you.” Harry interjects.

“And something we wanted to tell you.” You remind him.

“Alright, yeah. What’s up?” She asks.

“Would you want to be the godmother?” Harry asks. You can see the way he’s tensed, scared that his idol will say no to being the godmother of his first child.

“Harry, are you crazy? Of course I would! I’d love to be the godmother!” You can see the tension fall from his body, see him become relaxed again. “What was it that you needed to tell me, though?”

“Oh, um, do you wanna tell her babe?” You ask him.

“You can if you want.” He assures, so you look toward the screen.

“We’re thinking about naming the baby Stevie, if that’s okay with you of course.” You say, looking at her and waiting for a reaction.

“Um, yeah, that’s fine with me.” She’s trying to sound nonchalant, you can tell by the way she waves it off and looks to the side, trying to hide the tears in her eyes.

“Alright, well, um, we’ll let you go, alright? Let you process the whole thing.” Harry suggests, noticing that she’s a little emotional.

“Yeah, yeah. Um, congratulations kids. And, um, thank you. I love you both.” She sniffles, and you see the first tear fall.

“We love you too.” You say, before hitting the button to hang up, wanting to give her time to process everything.

You put the computer to the side, turning over towards Harry, feeling his hands come to rest on your stomach. “I think she’s happy.”

“Yeah, I do too. Never thought I’d make my idol cry like that.” He says.

“It was a good cry, H.” You assure him, even though you know he’s aware of that.

“I know. She’s going to be really good with the baby, huh?” He looks up at you and gives you the most love sick smile you’ve ever seen.

“She’ll hold her once and never want to give her back.” You smile, looking forward to the amazing godmother that Stevie’s going to be.

*

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Harry Styles Taglist: @alwayshave-faith, @hufflepuff-always-and-forever, @sucker-09 @just-chillin-out-in-me-box, @macksmedicine, @wendaiii, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow,

[the-weeping-author]

Change can be good.

A/N: I changed this some I posted it then went to copy the link and accidentally deleted it Soo yee yee I really hope it was everything you were looking for.

This was requested by: @steveproblems

Request: The reader and Steve are dating, the are total opposites the reader is calm and likes art so she likes to go to galleries, verses Steve who likes to party and likes to hang around friends like him so he tries to adapt to the way she is.

Warnings: cussing, angst, fluff

Word count: 1,688

Tag list: @ahoy-stevieboy @thehair-ington @linkispink1995 @harringtown @bvrningdesires @gardeniasandwhiskey @lxvesickreality @bluebellbrooke @harrington-ofhawkins @thenameishayley248 @ghostineleven @pappydappy

Please enjoy ���

Steve and I have always had a tension between us. It wasn't bad tension, but we never addressed it until he got drunk one night. I remember it like it was yesterday Steve, and I were in his car at a park. It was a little after 2 am, the windows were fogged up by us talking.

After all it was a cold December morning, Steve was drunk off his ass. He was rambling about Chase, he brought up a certain subject about Chase always looking at me, how it makes him angry when he sees Chase staring at me.

Steve was as popular as ever if not even more, yeah sure he could be a dick sometimes but he never was one with me. Steve loves going to parties, I would wanna Stay home to just look at art pieces.

I always went to parties with Steve because one of us had to be the sober one, but Steve was always super affectionate when he was drunk so I didn’t mind. Steve has been cutting me off every time I mentioned about us going to an art gallery that was in town.

So here I was at Steve’s front door with two tickets to the art gallery, I brought my hand up to his door knocking on it, he swung the door open. I saw teenagers from our school, my smile went into a small frown.

“Uh hey babe what are you doing here?”

I looked at him shrugging.

“Uh you told me to come by after my shift at the bookstore remember?”

He smiled at me, opened the door wider, letting me in. The smell of alcohol filled my nose, I eternally curled into a ball. Steve wasn’t bad when he was drunk around me, but as soon as Steve got around his friends the king Steve was in full affect.

I was greeted by a few people, but not many even if I was I wouldn’t think I was hot shit like most the girls did. Being popular never mattered to me, and it never will.

They were all doing their own thing though alcohol flowed through their veins, I knew that. I turned to look at Steve.

“Can I talk to you outside please?”

He nodded, let me lead the way outside. After he shut the door he decided to speak first.

“What’s up Y/N?”

I looked at him then I grabbed my bag looking through it.

“So you know how I was talking about that art gallery that was in town?”

He looked at me nodding when I looked up at him.

“Okay well I got us tickets, I was hoping you’d actually go with me.”

His facial expression made my stomach drop, he didn’t didn’t even look interested at all.

“Y/N you know how-.”

I quickly cut him off.

“Steve come one I do a lot of stuff for you, even stuff I don’t want to do.”

“Then why do you do it?”

He snapped at me, I tried to remind myself that he was probably drunk, like I said before when Steve was drunk around people he was the biggest asshole.

“I-I don’t know because I love you.”

He looked at me letting out a breath.

“Well I’m sorry Y/N, but there is no way I’m going to that art gallery.”

I looked into his eyes, hurt flowed into my heart.

“Oh yeah I forget king Steve is too important than your girlfriend.”

He shook his head at me.

“It’s not even like that Y/N so don’t even say that my title is more important than you.”

“Well that’s how you make me feel Steve because you make me feel like I’m second best to your friends and to your title.”

He shook his head at me. I could tell he was getting angry, but I didn’t care at this point.

“That’s not true Y/N and you know that.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him smiling bitterly.

“Do I Steve do I really?”

“If you don’t know that you’re the most important thing to me then why are you with me?”

My eyes widened at his question, anger filled my veins.

“That’s a great question Steve, you know what forget it I’m done have fun with your stupid ass parties and have fun with your stupid ass title I’m not sticking around for it.”

With that I walked back into his house, out of his front door with him calling my name. I was done with him, I was definitely done with being treated as second best.

Steve called me at least ten times, but I never answered. Usually when Steve and I fought we we’re back talking in a few hours but not this time I was over his shit.

Luckily last minute I got John Miller to go to the art gallery with me. I knew Steve wasn’t going to come, it hurt. It was more than he wouldn’t come, but it was the fact that every time he threw a party or did something stupid for his title I was there.

He has never once thought of me, he never took what I wanted to do Into consideration. Of course I was crushed, but I wasn’t going to show anyone I was too broken up over Steve’s selfish act.

John and I were talking about a certain art piece that was mesmerizing. I mean it was beautiful, as soon as we got a closer look I felt someone grab my wrist yanking me away from not only the art but John.

I already knew it was Steve, but that pissed me off even more.

“So you really are here with John Miller?”

I looked at Steve, smiled at him not wanting to cause a scene in the gallery.

“Yes I am. I actually found a guy who was more than willing to go to the gallery with me since my boyfriend couldn’t think of anyone but himself for at least a few hours.”

I knew Steve was jealous. I mean John wasn’t ugly, he was really sweet but he was a friend but I wasn’t going to tell Steve that I want him to feel how I felt plus some.

“Of all people, why him?” .

I shrugged my shoulder at him.

“He’s just a friend Steve.”

Steve scoffed at my statement.

“Bullshit Y/N you know how he feels about you.”

I smirked at him which I knew made his blood boil.

“Look Steve I don’t have time for your jealous bullshit okay, we can talk about this later but for now I’m going to enjoy the art gallery.”

I turned away from him, but as soon as I did I was pulled back into Steve.

“You will enjoy it, but not with him.”

I furrowed my brows at him I didn’t know what he meant, but as soon as I went to say something he shushed me.

He walked over to John, John looked at me then nodded at Steve then left without a word. I walked up to Steve crossing my arms.

“What did you say to him?”

He looked at me then shrugged his shoulders with a smirk on his face.

“I told him if I ever caught him eyeing you like a piece of meat again I’d kick his ass.”

I rolled my eyes at Steve because I knew what he was doing. He was trying to show himself as this superhero type where he would swoop in and save me, but I didn’t need saving.

I walked away from Steve before he could hold my hand, or make any physical contact with me.steve quickly caught up to me while I was walking around the gallery.

“Wait Y/N.”

I turned to face him, I hoped I didn’t look like I didn’t want to talk to him. That wasn’t the case. I just wanted to enjoy the one thing I actually could without being out of my comfort zone.

“Yes Steve?”

He looked down at me lacing his fingers in mine, but I pulled away from him.

“I know I’ve been a shitty boyfriend but can you please forgive me?”

I looked at him, rolled my eyes.

“Steve it’s not even about you being a shitty boyfriend it’s about you not wanting to do anything I want to do it’s always about what you want, yeah I could say something about it but I don’t because you seem genuinely happy.”

He looked at me, his brows furrowed together.

“Y/N the only reason I was happy at those parties was because you were with me, I know I have a lot to fix within myself, but I promise you I can change. It’s just what if I change myself and you don’t wanna be with me anymore?”

I felt bad, did I force him into changing Instead of letting it happen with time? I loved Steve. I didn’t want to hurt him, he thought I would leave him hurt.

“Stevie, I would never leave you. I love you too much for that, plus who else am I gonna snuggle up to when we watch horror movies?”

He chuckled at me, putting his hand on my right cheek.

“I’m sorry I was being such an ass.”

I shrugged at him, I stood on my tippy toes to kiss his lips he kissed back almost immediately, when we pulled away from each other we were both smiling.

“It’s okay Steve just remember change can be good, I’ll always be here to help you.”

He smiled at me grabbing my hand while we walked through the rest of the art gallery. If Steve showed me anything it was how much he loved me and I definitely loved him and I’d be here for him whenever he needed me.

A/N: hey I hoped y’all like it, I’m almost at 100 followers. So yay thank you guys for supporting me mores coming.

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 7

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit/18+ warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark 

Steve was actually going to go insane. What was supposed to be a simple, if stressful day, had gone completely downhill. He and Bucky hadn’t adequately distracted Penny (his fault, admittedly) and she’d been both drugged and had her head bashed in twice. After the CT scan which showed no permanent damage, Bruce had given the very irate Penny a sedative to keep her from making her headache any worse.

For the second time in one day, he and Bucky held vigil outside of her temporary room, pacing the hallway and intermittently stopping to listen at her door for any sounds. JARVIS would alert them immediately if she started to wake up, but they found themselves with their ears pressed to the doorway anyway. Most of the time, it was just to listen to her breathing. Sometimes, she shifted in bed, which was a good sign of her beginning to wake.

Just about everyone else had already gone to bed, with the exception of Stark and Rhodey, who’d gone back to the Parker residence to retrieve Peter. Likely they’d arrived back at the tower already, the teenager in tow, and were getting ready for bed.

Steve didn’t think he’d sleep if he tried. Too many emotions were rushing through him; irritation, nervousness, anticipation, adoration— he was a mess. Bucky had told him at least three times that he was a fuckin’ mess and Steve absolutely believed him. How Buck was handling the situation so well was beyond Steve’s comprehension. Their girl was sedated, asleep in a strange place, and she’d wake up alone if they weren’t careful.

“You know, we could just go get in bed with her,” Bucky stated as they walked past each other in the hallway, continuing their very short patrol, “You know I’ll wake up the second she starts to stir, I’ll wake you up first and we’ll be ready to take care of her right when she opens her eyes.”

“She doesn’t want us near her,” the blond responded regretfully; that was his fault, he’d really fucked it all up earlier outside of the coffee shop.

It wasn’t that he was really judging her on how she chose to take care of Peter, not really. Mostly he’d been bothered that Penny had asked a girl to beat up Peter’s bully. It was an outdated ideal now, that a man should always be the one to take care of his woman, but Steve was outdated himself. He understood ladies wanting equality, but did they really need to be out doing things like fighting? Wanda and Natasha were outliers, physically altered to fight and kill.

His Penny was a fighter too, although there wouldn’t be any need for that going forward. Stark had a split lip and a busted ball sack thanks to his scrappy girl and poor Rhodey’s back was one giant purple bruise. He knew without a doubt she was gonna give him and Buck Hell until they got her used to her new life.

“She doesn’t want a lot of things, Stevie,” Bucky rolled his eyes at his lover and stopped in front of Penny’s door, “she doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want Stark near Peter, doesn’t want us near her. She’s gonna have to get used to all of it, might as well start early.”

Steve hesitated for a moment. He did believe in ripping the band aid off quickly, so to speak. But poor Penny was already half traumatized, terrified and furious in equal measure. He’d felt her seething rage upon seeing him and Buck in the room earlier, a dangerous combination of wrath and despair.

“How much longer until Bruce thought she’d start to wake?”

Buck grinned at the question, knowing it meant he’d won out over Steve’s conscious, “about an hour and a half, let’s go.”

The brunet didn’t even give him the chance before opening the door and stepping in, leaving it open behind him for Steve. Penny was curled in the center of the double-sized bed, lying on her side with her hands tucked against her stomach and a cocoon of pillows around her.

He wasn’t sure if it was possible for her to be any prettier than he remembered, but Steve felt his heart race in his chest at the sight of her. He’d thought she was beautiful when they watched the webcam footage. Even when they’d thought she was a monster and a neglectful bitch, he’d been intrigued. Sure, he’d been more than willing to kill her for Tony if the man asked, but he would’ve regretted it just on the basis that he found her interesting.

His enhanced hearing meant he picked up things over the microphone that the others didn’t; Penny singing while she cooked Peter dinner, murmuring about buying the teenager new clothes, worrying over the phone bill. He hadn’t fallen in love with her over the camera necessarily, but he’d grown very infatuated.

Bucky liked Penny at first simply because Steve did. Anything that made Stevie happy generally made Bucky happy too, and Penny was gorgeous. He liked looking at her as much as Steve or Clint, enjoyed watching the expressions on her face while she’d sat on her laptop for hours on end. It was easy to see why his boyfriend was so obsessed and after meeting her, Bucky couldn’t fault him. He liked her too, wanted to keep her close too. Penny needed to be tucked away safely between them at all times.

Both carefully climbed into the bed on either side of her, the smaller sized mattress causing them to cuddle close to her curled form. Steve let himself press against her back, his arm coming to circle her middle and clasp her tucked hands gently. Facing her, Bucky pushed his metal arm up under her pillow, cradling her head, and reached over her with his flesh arm to rest his hand on Steve’s hip. The positions felt natural and comfortable and both soldiers sighed contently as they settled.

Penny was small between them, soaking up the heat their bodies gave off. Her body had unconsciously pressed back into Steve, seeking warmth. He buried his face into her curly hair, inhaling deeply and smiling to himself. Their girl was finally where she was supposed to be.

“She’s gonna want to see Peter.”

Steve hummed in acknowledgement, “we’ll see how much pain she’s in when she wakes up.”

“She’ll wanna see him even if she’s in pain, Stevie. How are we gonna handle it?”

Quiet settled over them for a moment while they both considered their options before Steve sighed into her hair, “she’s gotta get dressed and shower, then she can see Peter as a reward. If she’s in too much pain, we’ll put her in the bath with that stuff Bruce gave us and she can see him after.”

“And what about the fit she’s gonna throw when she wakes up?”

“We’ll make her stay in bed while we explain,” the blond stated quietly, twining his fingers with hers against her stomach, “we can’t expect her to follow the rules if she doesn’t understand everything. She’s gonna be upset, we’ll need to make sure to keep her head stable.”

“We’ve got this, Stevie,” Buck squeezed his hip reassuringly, stroking the skin under his t-shirt, “we just gotta be patient and take care of our girl.”

Steve swallowed heavily, the affectionate look Buck was levelling him with would’ve brought him to his knees had he been standing, “Bucky… thank you, for all of this. I know you’re doing it for me—”

“I’m doing this for us, Steve,” the brunet cut him off sternly, “You might’ve wanted her first, but I want her just as much now. We need her and she needs us.”

Bucky looked like he was about to say more, but Penny shifted in their arms. A low, quiet groan escaped her lips a moment later and she squirmed between them. Steve let her pull her hand from his, watching as she brought it up to her head and dug her palm against her left eye. A few more moments of silence passed as she tried to wake up.

It was obvious when she became aware of her surroundings because her entire body pulled taught. Rigidity put distance between her back and his chest but Steve left his arm over her waist, resting against her trembling stomach.

“Morning babydoll,” Bucky used his flesh hand to cup her face, brushing away her attempts to swat at him, “how bad does your head hurt?”

“What the fuck is this?” Her voice was raspy even in comparison to her usually low tone, washing over them both like a spring.

A slow smile pulled over Steve’s lips; their girl was predictable, but precious anyway, “take a deep breath, doll, everything’s okay. You’re safe here.”

“Safe here? You— you assholes helped him kidnap me! You’re letting him—"

Bucky barked a laugh, yanking her tight against his chest before she could really get going, “deep breaths, spitfire. I know you’re upset and you’ve got every right to be, but you need to calm down. We won’t get anywhere with you pitchin’ a fit.”

A sharp, infuriated inhale was their only warning before Penny started screaming at the top of her lungs and flailing violently. Her end game was obviously to create distance, which was successful if only because she had a tendency to dig her extremities into vulnerable places. She managed to slip down to the end of the bed, falling off in a heap. Steve quickly followed after her, leaving Bucky clutching between his legs after a particularly brutal cock shot.

Steve didn’t get the chance to help her up, Penny had immediately shot to her feet. She was obviously still slightly off balance but determination shined through her eyes.

“Where is my brother?” She demanded, pointing an angry finger at the center of Steve’s chest, “if Stark took me, he took my brother, now where is he?”

“Stark’s right, you are a Hellcat,” Bucky groaned from the bed, a light sweat on his brow as he overcame the pain she’d inflicted, “dangerous.”

“You’re allowed to be upset, Penny, but you need to be calm,” Steve’s tone was stern, an edge of irritation seeping through, “No hitting, no kicking—”

“No low blows!” The brunet on the bed was still whining and Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

“Definitely no more low blows, Pen. Obviously we need to talk but you have to let us explain.”

“I don’t have to let you do anything, now tell me where my brother is!”

Bucky managed a breathy laugh as he forced himself to sit up, ignoring the pain lancing through him. The botched super soldier serum running through his veins allowed him to heal quickly and the pain was receding much faster than it would’ve for say, Tony Stark, who’d also been nailed in the balls by Penny Parker in the last 24 hours. He actually felt kind of bad for the genius.

“Peter’s probably still in bed, asleep. It’s just about 4am,” he shifted to the edge of the bed and stood up, shaking his legs out determinedly, “you could be a real monster with the right training babydoll. Now, let’s talk.”

Steve took the cue for what is was and rushed forward while Penny was distracted, wrapping securely around her from behind and pinning her arms down in the process. She immediately dropped her weight in a move that probably would’ve worked on anyone who wasn’t supernaturally strong. Steve easily kept her aloft, even when she tucked her knees to her chest and kicked out, trying to force him backwards with the momentum. She definitely had some sort of self-defense training.

“You’re not very good at following rules, are you?” Bucky grinned as he came up in front of the pair, grabbing Penny’s legs before she could kick him again, “to be fair, we aren’t either. Last warning, baby, no physical violence or you’re gonna earn yourself a punishment.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be violent if I hadn’t been kidnapped!”

“I know, I know,” Steve manipulated Penny in his arms until she was turned to face him, her legs tucked near his waist, “this is a horrible situation for you right now and you’re mad and you’re scared. We understand that and we want to work with you to get passed that.”

“All we want is for you to be happy, Penny doll,” Bucky came up behind her and leaned against her back, letting Steve hold the extra weight, “all you’ve done for years is work and stress over Peter, don’t you think you deserve to be happy? We’re going to give you back your life.”

“You’re not giving me anything, you’re taking everything,” her voice cracked and she spoke imploringly, trying to pull back far enough to look Steve in the eyes, “please, listen to me—”

“You listen to us first, sweetheart,” the blond cut her off, not unkindly, but certainly sternly, “we’re going to explain and then you can talk. Understand?”

If he’d been expecting a reply, Steve would be disappointed. Penny’s lips had pressed together in a firm, unyielding line and were actually turning white from the pressure. In all fairness, he had asked her to stay quiet and it looked like she was going to great lengths to do so.

Steve didn’t let himself laugh and cleared his throat, curling his hand gently to cup her lower back, “You work so hard, Penny. You’ve worked so hard for so long, taking care of your aunt and Peter. But now, Tony’s going to take care of Peter. And we’re going to take care of you.”

“It’s going to be a hard adjustment for you, we understand that,” Bucky continued, stroking his flesh hand through Penny’s long hair, careful to not tangle in her curls, “you’ve been incredibly independent for a very long time and all of your energy has gone into taking care of your brother.”

“L-Look,” Penny took a breath, swallowing heavily. Steve could see some sort of pain settle through her, weighing heavily on her shoulders; resignation or sadness or something, “I know… I know that Stark wants Peter but… but if I stay here, without a fuss, will he let Peter go? I won’t fight anymore, I won’t… I’ll do whatever you want, if Peter can go free. We have family he could—”

A bone deep ache settled into both Bucky and Steve at her words. Penny had a desolate combination of lack of self-care and an overabundance of duty to her brother. It was the same thing they’d noticed over and over again since the night Penny had dropped her plans on Peter; she was willing and would drop everything in her life for Peter. She would drop out of school, she would go to jail, she would be a willing captive if it meant Peter was safe.

“Not everything is about Peter, babydoll,” Bucky quietly informed her, hand still pulling gently through her hair, “all you’ve cared about for a long time has been him and that’s going to change now. You’re a person too, Penny. You always talk about what Peter deserves and what Peter needs, but what about you?”

They saw a moment of hesitation similar to what they’d seen through the webcam feed, where it looked like Penny might be considering doing something she considered selfish.

“I don’t need anything, I just want my brother—Where is he? Where is my brother? Where is my brother!? Where is my brother!?”

***

Peter’s breath escaped him in heavy sobs, dread and humiliation and sorrow filling his stomach like lead. His ass was raw from a spanking— a fucking spanking. He was 17 years old and yet Tony had put him over his knee, on the couch his sister slept on every night, and spanked him until he could barely breath through the tears and heaving cries. Then, he’d drawn Peter into his lap and cooed over him. Told him it was over, all was forgiven, they could move on now, he took his punishment so well.

When he’d tried to ask about his sister again, he’d been brushed off. Tony told him to be a good boy, to calm down, everything was okay. He hadn’t realized that the older man was distracting him while his partner in literal crime crept up and stuck a syringe in Peter’s neck.

Upon waking up, disoriented and alone, the tears had come again. Tony was on his way, the AI informed him immediately when he woke up, which meant that it wasn’t some horrible nightmare. Peter’s ass was raw, his sister was gone, he’d been taken by a lunatic, and he was trapped. Fuck, he was trapped.

“Oh, my baby,” Tony’s voice broke through the sound of his sobs and he felt himself simultaneously going rigid and boneless, “take deep breaths, I’m here, I’ve got you baby.”

He was wrapped up in the older man’s arms just a moment later, hands running down his back and through his hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the embrace tickled a memory of being held. Back when Penny had been bigger than him, when she could engulf him fully in a hug. It had always felt so warm and comforting and he liked being wrapped up that way. He’d lamented his growing size when he realized that it wasn’t quite the same anymore. Her hugs were still better than anything else, but they were different.

“Where is Penny?” Peter couldn’t stop thinking about her hugs, the words hiccupped through his sobs, “please, please, please…”

“Shhh, Penny’s okay, Penny’s just fine,” Tony cooed in his ear, tucking the boy’s head against his chest, “you’ve gotta breath, precious, you’ll have an asthma attack at this point.”

“Sir, I believe Ms. Parker is also experiencing emotional taxation as a result of being separated from her sibling. The soldiers have requested they attend breakfast together, in order to ease the anxiety,” the AI’s voice sounded once again and it took Peter a moment to understand what it said.

Breakfast with Penny. Soldiers wanted him to have breakfast with Penny. Why was she with soldiers? What had they done with her?

“Sounds like a good idea, J. We’re gonna get cleaned up, have them meet us in the private kitchen in about an hour.”

“The captain finds that agreeable sir.”

“Alright baby, we’re gonna see Penny at breakfast, but you need to calm down first. We gotta bathe and get dressed, can you calm down enough for that?”

“Yes,” he whimpered quietly, “I can, I can calm down I promise.”

“Good boy,” the praise was met with a shocking but warm sensation in Peter’s chest and he startled when Tony stood up, carrying him in his arms, “I think a bath would be best, I’m sure you’re still sore.”

A blush lit up Peter’s face. Yes, he was still sore. His ass felt like a huge bruise and any sort of pressure hurt like a bitch.

Tony set him down on the bathroom counter, staying directly in front of him, “J, start the tub. Add aloe.”

The faucets immediately turned on and the familiar scent of aloe wafted from the steam. Peter was astounded by the innovation, that Tony had a voice-controlled bathtub. The AI was beyond compare in the public market and he’d bet even the private sectors didn’t have anything close. Peter’s primary scientific interests were chemistry and biology but he was fascinated by the engineering and mechanics that must’ve gone into the creation.

“Your wheels are spinning baby, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Your AI is awesome,” the teenager stated quietly after a moment of hesitation, shrugging his shoulders and tucking his head down slightly, “I’m not great with electronic engineering but it’s really cool.”

If he’d looked up he would’ve seen the soft, fond look on Tony’s face, “I could teach you, if you wanted to learn. Are you interested in mechanics?”

“I like biochemical engineering more than practical, but I’m in my school’s robotics club—” Peter swallowed heavily, “I… was in my school’s robotics club.”

“Robotics club has nothing on me, baby,” Tony said fondly, easily brushing past Peter’s discomfort and sadness and barreling forward, “I’ve got the best toys in the world to play with. Maybe after breakfast we’ll go down to the lab.”

“Will Penny come too?”

The older man seemed to watch Peter carefully for a moment before gently tugging him off the counter, “let’s get you undressed, the bath’s almost full and we’ll need to head to breakfast soon.”

Another dark blush spread down Peter’s face, extending to his shoulders and chest. He could feel the heat of it under his skin as Tony pulled his shirt off followed by his own.

“Y-You’re going to…” his eyes darted to the bath and back to the older man’s face, jaw moving even as words failed to come out.

A soft laugh escaped Tony, “get in the bath with you? Of course I am baby boy.”

Anxiety crawled through his veins, spreading like ice while Tony continued to undress him. He tried not to shake when his pants came off, or his boxers. Tried not to look when Tony took off his own. It was humiliating, please don’t look at me, don’t touch me—

Tony herded Peter to the bathtub, ignoring the panic that was visibly surging through the boy. Getting him into the water was a little harder, he was shaking and Tony was almost worried he would fall. When they were both settled in the water, with Peter resting against his chest and the steam rising around them, Tony finally felt himself begin to relax. His baby boy was in his arms, finally, so vulnerable, all his.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Peter,” he whispered gently into the boy’s ear, nuzzling his nose against the skin there, “you’re finally with me, where you belong.”

The bath was so warm and Tony was so close, Peter’s head almost felt floaty. Just like in the beginning, the man’s attention was euphoric. It was so, so wrong but Peter wanted it. He wanted the quiet words and promises and reassurances. He must’ve been so fucked up in the head to be almost happy cradled naked in his kidnapper’s arms, God what the fuck was wrong with him.

Penny raised him to be stronger, to be smarter. He was spitting in the face of everything she’d done for him over the years as he relaxed into Tony’s chest. All the hours she’d worked, all of the things she’d given up on for his sake, he was throwing it all away in the warmth of Tony Stark’s arms.

He hoped she would forgive him.

[yikesharringrove]

Hello! I absolutely love you’re writing, it’s always so creative and fun to read! If it’s not too much trouble could you please do 1 and 7 from the fluff prompt?

Thank you so much! 🥺 getting nice comments about my writing seriously makes my heart so happy.

1: “how much did you drink?”

7: “wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me.”

Prompt List! Request Stuff! Please!

Read on ao3.

So this is actually something from a longer fic I am going to start. I have so many WIPs right now it’s a mess.Modern College au where everyone is queer and everyone is happy. This was super fun to write! The gang plays Never Have I Ever.

Billy knocked on the apartment door.

He had gotten out of work later than he had hoped, shitty customers demanding service a minute before closing, pushing back his closing and cleaning duties almost an hour. It’s fine. He’s fine.

So, he’s the last to arrive at the party.

Jonathan opens the door for him, obviously high as a kite, with a Billy! Hey man! Billy claps him on the shoulder, shuffling past him in the little entryway.

He can hear footsteps running from deeper in the apartment, Steve appearing at the end of the hallway, muttering billybillybillybillybillybillybilly with every step. He jumped into Billy’s arms wrapping his legs around his waist.

“Hi.” His eyes were glazed, and he had a big dopey grin on his face. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, Baby? I missed you too. How much did you drink?”

“Robin’s been making me drinks!” Robin made the best drinks out of the gang, but they were deadly. She could hide copious amounts of the cheapest alcohol ina pretty good cocktail. It helped too that Steve loved the sugary stuff. Billy once made him a daiquiri and he about lost his damn mind. “I’m a drunky little skunky.”

Jonathan was laughing behind them as Billy carried Steve into the kitchen, fixing himself a drink before heading into the living room with the rest of the gang.

“You two make me ill,” Robin deadpanned as Billy sat down in Steve’s empty spot, Steve settling into his lap.

“Rob, if you could quit being home of phobic, that’d be great.” Billy grinned at Robin. Steve was giggling, resting his head on Billy’s shoulder, shoving one of his hands up Billy’s shirt, resting it against his tummy.

“I think they’re sweet together!” Nancy cooed.

“That’s because you dumped Steve in high school and still feel bad about it,” Barb interjected, everyone howling with laughter as Nancy’s face went red.

“Okay, okay. We had a pretty good game of Never Have I Ever going on, we need to get Billy caught up.” Jonathan winked at Billy from across the cozy living room.

“Oh, that’ll be easier. There isn't a lot I haven’t done. Is that why Stevie is so sloshed though?”

“Yeah, Robin may have been targetting him a little.”

“That’s his own fault for telling me SO many DETAILS about all the sex you two have. We also made him take a shot every time he called you ‘Daddy”.” Billy threw his head back and laughed, Steve making a disgruntled sound at Robin.

“Okay, well I’ll join in. Whose turn is it?”

“Mine.” Barb squinted at him. “Well, never have I ever been born in California.” Bily raised his glass at her, tipping it back and taking a drink. It was her girlfriend’s turn next. Alicia didn’t know Billy all that well, so she was silent for a minute, trying to rack her brain until Barb grinned and leaned over to her and whispered something into her ear.

“Never have I ever had a mullet?” She said it as though she was hoping it wasn’t true. Everyone roared with laughter.

“It was only a mullet for like, two months. It was growing out weird!” Billy still took a good-sized gulp. Steve ran his fingers through Billy’s long hair.

“I like the end result just fine, but those two months were, not awesome, Bill.” Billy tried to look as offended as possible. He knew the mullet was a poor moment for him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side!” Steve laughed, putting his hand back in Billy’s shirt. “That’s okay, I forgive you.” They kissed lazily and sloppily.

“Can you two not suck face for like, five seconds?” Robin yelled over them.

“I have an idea!” Jonathan was practically vibrating in his seat. “If they can go one hour without kissing, we all take a shot, if they kiss, they both have to take,” he counted everyone quickly “three shots each.”

“Wait, no! Don’t take kissing away from me!” Steve shrieked indignantly.

“That many shots are gonna fuckin’ kill Steve at this point, I think,” Billy said.

“Then split it up differently, but either way, six shots must be taken.” Jonathan leaned back in his chair and smirked at Billy. “Should we vote on it?”

Robin raised her hand, grabbing Heather’s arm and shooting it into the air as well. Barb laughed and raised hers, Alicia following suit. Jonathan counted hands, Nancy laughing with hers in the air.

“You all are bullies. Mean, homophobic, bullies.” Steve was pouting in Billy’s lap. He was clingy, totally physically affectionate. If taking three shots didn’t kill him, going one hour without kissing Billy certainly would.

“So it’s a deal. Let’s keep playing then! And you two, now kissing.” Robin winked at them, taking her turn. “Speaking of which, never have I ever kissed a boy.”

Everyone except Barb drank, her and Robin high-fiving.

“Fine, fuck you, Buckley. Never Have I ever kissed a girl.” Billy raised an eyebrow. Everyone drank.

It was Steve’s turn. This should be a mess.

“Billy, what’s something I haven’t done?” He loudly whispered. Billy smirked wickedly, leaning forward to whisper into Steve’s ear, throwing a wink to Nancy.

“Never have I ever had a pregnancy scare.” Jonathon and Nancy when matching shades of deep red while everyone laughed.

“I forgot about that! God, you two are straight.” Robing hooted through laughter.

“That was cold, Billy.” They had both joined in on the laughter, Nancy’s breakdown about a missed period well in the past. “I can get you right back though. Never have I ever, had a chlamydia scare.”

“Well played, Byers! I didn’t know I told you about that!” Billy threw back his drink, shifting Steve off his lap to get a refill. Steve whined and clung to Billy tighter. Steve was a fucking barnacle when he was sloshed. Billy sighed and picked him back up, just taking Steve with him into the kitchen.

“When the fuck did that go down?” Heather yelled into the kitchen.

“Before I knew you all. Some guy I had been fucking around with in California told me he had the clap and I had to get tested, but I was fine,” Billy shouted back.

“Whore!” Robin called as he waddled back into the living room. He couldn’t flip robin off, holding two cups in one hand, the other support Steve’s ass. They flopped back onto the couch with very little grace.

“Never have I ever,” Nancy was thinking, biting the inside of her cheek, deciding who she wanted to fuck over. “Um, never have I ever dated someone with blue eyes.” Steve reached for Billy’s fresh drink, but he lifted it out of reach and pressed the water he had brought for Steve into his hand instead.

“Oh, thank you, Bill.”

“Just ‘cause I don’t wanna deal with you yaaking all night.” Steve huffed. “I’m just kidding. I don’t want you to get sick, though.” Steve drank about half the cup, leaned in and kissed Billy.

“YES!” Everyone was cheering.

“We fuckin’ got ‘em!” Jonathan and Nancy high fived.

“They couldn’t even go twenty fucking minutes!” Robin was shrieking.

“I forgot! I forgot!” Steve was red, Billy was just laughing his ass off.

Barb began lining up shot glasses on the table, taking the bottle of shitty vodka Alicia handed her.

“Okay, you can switch it up any way you want, but six must be taken. That was the deal.” She grinned at Billy, he just rolled his eyes.

Billy ended up doing all six shots.

[unfolded73]

My Heartbeat Shows the Fear (3/4) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: A canon divergent story: Patrick gets into a car accident and it brings the Brewers to town sooner.

Notes: This fic will be posted in 4 chapters, every other day. There is some description of injuries, but nothing too graphic or life-threatening.

The title is from “Overkill” by Colin Hay, which thanks to the show Scrubs puts me in mind of hospitals.

Thank you to Amanita_Fierce for putting so much time and thought into betaing this fic - you made it so, so much better. And thanks also to @high-seas-swan for some helpful suggestions, particularly on that one scene that I tore apart and rewrote.

Rated Teen, this chapter 4390 words. (ao3)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3

“Well, you look like shit,” Stevie said as she and David walked into his hospital room Wednesday morning.

“Thanks,” Patrick said as David took advantage of his parents’ absence to lean over and kiss him.

“Did you sleep okay?” David asked, pulling up a chair to sit close. Patrick reached for David’s hand, taking it and squeezing it.

“Not really.” He felt terrible, but it was hard to tell if that was because of the constant aching pain coming from his arm and torso.

“So Alexis and Ted were able to get onto the lot where your car was towed and they found your phone,” David said, pulling a phone with a cracked screen out of his pocket. “We’ll have to plug it in to see if it still works,” he said as he grabbed Patrick’s charger out of the duffel bag and plugged the phone in.

“What about the merchandise?” Patrick asked.

David grimaced. “There were a lot of broken bottles. They saved what they could.”

“Let the vendors know that we’ll pay them for the lost merchandise. It should be covered by our insurance,” Patrick said, shifting his body and wincing at the pain in his side. “We’ll have to file a claim.”

“Okay, but I don’t want you to worry about that right now,” David said, leaning over and nuzzling against Patrick’s cheek. It felt like David was trying to absorb as much physical affection as he could while he had the opportunity.

“So what did your arm look like before, was it really gross?” asked Stevie from her spot leaning against the wall.

“Don’t answer that,” David warned. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“It’s a little better. And I’ve managed to walk to the bathroom to pee without passing out, so that’s a big accomplishment.”

David laughed. “I’m so proud.” He let go of Patrick’s hand and stroked up and down his right arm affectionately.

“I assume my parents got settled in okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Stevie said, “we were going to talk about the lube—”

“No, we weren’t,” David said quickly, then in explanation to Patrick, he added, “Stevie went over and scrubbed the apartment of evidence of our relationship yesterday before your parents got there.”

Patrick’s stomach sank. Now his cowardice had not only hurt David, but had forced their friends to sneak around like they were in a farce. “Thanks, Stevie.”

“And I told my family not to say anything if they ran into your parents in town. Although they can’t really be relied on at all not to open their big mouths, so really it’s a bit of a crap shoot. But I told your parents that the food at the café was terrible, which wasn’t even a lie, so hopefully they won’t go there.”

Patrick imagined Johnny Rose stumbling through a conversation with his parents and revealing the nature of David and Patrick’s relationship. It was a terrifying idea, although he had to admit that a tiny part of him wanted it to happen. At least it would save him from having to break the news.

He really needed to tell his parents before this went on any longer.

“I’ll tell my parents when they get here this morning,” Patrick blurted out.

David grimaced. “You don’t have to rush, honey,” he said, still stroking his arm.

“No, David, this isn’t fair to you. I—”

“Good morning!” And there his parents were, walking into the room. David flinched back, his hand dropping from Patrick’s arm.

“We didn’t know you’d have visitors already so early,” Marcy said warmly, looking back and forth between David and Stevie.

“Yeah, we thought we’d stop in before I have to open the store,” David said as if a visit to the hospital didn’t require almost an hour and a half of driving.

“Should I point out that you’re already late opening the store?” Patrick gave him a teasing smirk.

“Everyone in town has heard about your car accident; I’m sure they’ll be forgiving,” David said.

“It’s good to see you again, Stevie,” Clint said, and Stevie gave him an awkward little wave.

“You guys met already?” Patrick asked.

“Yes, we met at your wonderful store, dear,” Marcy said.

“I gave your parents a quick tour of the store yesterday afternoon before they drove over to Brebner’s. I told them our fresh vegetables were much better,” David added.

“You were right,” Clint said.

It all felt like it was spinning out of his control, if it ever had been in his control — while Patrick lay helpless in his hospital bed, David and Stevie were spending time with his parents. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to have told them about his relationship with David, and they were supposed to see the truth of his life in Schitt’s Creek. He was supposed to have given them a tour of the store. They were supposed to see how settled and happy he was in the town with the people that knew him as half of ‘David and Patrick.’ Instead they were getting this incomplete, false version of him.

“David, I need to get back to the motel soon,” Stevie said, and David stood up. Patrick felt an urge to grab for his hand, to stop him from leaving. Instead he lay there, paralyzed by doubt.

A nurse came in then. “Goodness, you’re very popular this morning, Patrick,” she said, picking up his chart and making some notes from the screens behind his head.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby?” Stevie said to David, and then patted Patrick’s foot. “Feel better,” she said before disappearing from the room.

“You’re scheduled for blood work today, so I’m here to steal some blood,” said the nurse. Her name was Janice, Patrick remembered; she’d been on duty before. She pulled some tubes out of her pocket and lined them up on the table.

“Stevie seems nice,” Marcy said. ‘And she’s very pretty.”

“Marcy,” Clint said, a warning tone in his voice.

“What? I’m just saying.”

“No, you’re matchmaking,” Clint replied.

As she tightened the rubber band around his bicep and skillfully inserted the needle into his arm, Janice raised her eyebrows at Patrick, cut her eyes over to David, and then tilted her head almost imperceptibly toward Patrick’s parents. Her meaning was as clear as if she’d spoken out loud — they don’t know David is your boyfriend? Patrick shook his head as the first tube filled with blood. No, they don’t know. Janice nodded.

“I’m not matchmaking,” Marcy said. “But you can’t blame me for wanting to see Patrick happy in a relationship.” Patrick glanced at David, but David was studying his nails, his face carefully blank. Whether he was averting his gaze to avoid seeing blood or to avoid this conversation, Patrick wasn’t certain.

“Oh, don’t worry, Patrick’s having a torrid affair with most of the nurses on staff, the heartbreaker,” Janice said with a conspiratorial wink.

His parents laughed, and his mother dropped her line of inquiry. Thank you, Patrick mouthed to Janice, who smirked.

Once the four vacutainer tubes were filled, Janice checked his chart again. “Whoops, forgot to record your temperature.” She pulled out a thermometer and put it under Patrick’s tongue, waiting for the beep before reading the number.

“38.1,” she said, clucking her tongue. “You’re running a bit of a fever today, Patrick.”

“What does that mean?” David asked.

“Could be nothing — patients get unexplained fevers in hospitals all the time — but we want to rule out an infection stemming from his forearm fracture. I’ll page Dr. Barnes.” She patted Patrick’s hand and left the room.

His mother took Janice’s place, putting her hand on his forehead. “You do feel warm. Would you like me to get a wet cloth for your head?”

“No, Mom. I’m fine,” Patrick sighed as he shut his eyes. No wonder he was feeling so shitty.

“I’m sorry about before,” she said. “I know you told us that you weren’t seeing anyone, but I guess deep down I was hoping to meet a girlfriend. You’re such a catch, sweetheart.”

Patrick opened his eyes and met David’s. He could tell them now, but the fever was making him feel like he wanted to sleep for a thousand years. “There’s no girlfriend,” he said.

“Not in all the time you’ve lived here?” Marcy asked.

Patrick shook his head, still looking at David. He just needed to say it. I’m gay. There isn’t ever going to be a girlfriend. There’s David, who I think might be the love of my life.

He opened his mouth, and Dr. Barnes came through the door.

“Patrick, what’s this fever nonsense?” she chided jokingly. “Didn’t I teach you better than that?”

Chuckling weakly, Patrick tried to communicate to David with his eyes that he’d been on the verge of coming out, if only his doctor didn’t have the worst imaginable timing.

Dr. Barnes probed and prodded him, removing the splint from his arm long enough to unwrap the bandages and examine it. The movement was excruciating, but Patrick tried not to show the pain on his face in front of David and his parents. David was averting his eyes again anyway to avoid seeing Patrick’s injury.

“Still no sign of infection from the wound, so I think this is just a run-of-the-mill fever,” she said as she replaced the bandages and the splint. “But we can’t take any chances, so we’ll have to keep you at least one more night for observation.”

Patrick sighed in frustration. He really wanted to go home. He desperately wanted to be in his own bed being held by his boyfriend, even if having David moving around next to him in the bed would make his injuries more painful. He didn’t care.

“I know, it sucks. But infections are no joke.” The doctor made some notes on Patrick’s chart. “I’ll check in again toward the end of my shift, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, lying back on the pillows as she left.

“Your phone seems to be working,” David said, holding it up from where it was plugged in to show Patrick the screen. His voice sounded strangled. “I’ve gotta go. I can’t keep Stevie waiting any longer.” He reached out briefly, but then dropped his hand. “Maybe you can text me later?”

“Of course,” Patrick said, his own voice almost cracking with emotion.

“Bye,” David said, turning quickly and leaving the room.

His father was looking thoughtfully at him, and Patrick tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. “You’ve got a good friend there, Patrick.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s the best,” Patrick said, drowsiness swamping out his ability to say anything more.

~*~

“He’s not going to tell them,” David said to the passenger window of Stevie’s car.

“David, give the guy a break — he’s clearly not feeling a hundred percent right now.”

He ignored Stevie’s very logical argument. “I mean, look at him. Look at his parents. I’ll never fit in with the wholesome, clean-cut vibe they have going on. Why would he want to tell his parents that he ended up with…” He gestured manically up and down at himself. “... this?”

Stevie cast a vicious side-eye in his direction. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” he blurted out in a high voice.

“David, he loves you. You know he loves you. Stop with this bullshit.”

He didn’t want to argue about it. Stevie wasn’t going to understand — she didn’t know what coming from a home that wasn’t dysfunctional was like anymore than he did. She didn’t understand that broken people like him didn’t have a place with families like that. Families where parents dropped everything and came rushing to their son’s aid, and not just because they thought he’d taken a prized crocodile bag.

He finally got the store open at ten-thirty, and a few people stopped by before lunch to inquire about Patrick. It was sweet, David thought, that people cared so much, but having to field their questions about Patrick’s health wasn’t helping his anxiety. By the afternoon, he was doing a fairly brisk business, which limited the amount of time he could spend spiraling about his relationship. Worrying that Patrick was realizing that if he was too ashamed to tell his parents that the two of them were dating, then their relationship was probably doomed.

By the time the Brewers themselves walked into the store just before closing, David was just about ready to jump out of his skin.

“Hi,” David said, and then immediately began to fret that he’d lost the ability to even say ‘hi’ like a normal person. “Is Patrick okay?”

“He is,” Marcy said. “They did some more tests and there’s no sign of infection, so he should be discharged tomorrow. They also went ahead and put a cast on his arm.”

David nodded, relieved. “Do you know how long you plan to stay in town? Do you have to get back home for work, or…?” He racked his brain, trying to remember what they did for a living. Clint did something in an office, he was pretty sure, and Marcy he couldn’t remember at all.

“We both had personal days to spare,” Clint said, “but I think we’ll head home on Sunday morning if Patrick doesn’t need more help.”

He has me, David wanted to shout, and he pressed his lips together to keep it in. “Do you need a place to stay for the remaining nights after Patrick is discharged? I can call Stevie and have her reserve a room at the motel.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a high-class establishment, but at least it’s close.” It would also put Patrick’s parents in close proximity to his own parents, which was risky, but he couldn’t think of a good excuse not to have them stay at the motel.

“Oh, that would be great, David. Thank you,” Marcy said.

“We were thinking,” Clint said, “we’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”

David tried to limit his physical recoil to the suggestion of spending so much uninterrupted time with Patrick’s parents. “You don’t have to do that.” He wasn’t sure if he could keep up this charade for another minute, much less an entire meal without Patrick there as a buffer.

“Please, David?” Marcy was weaponizing her eyes — he could see that Patrick came by it honestly. “It’s the least we can do.”

He looked around for a good excuse not to have dinner with Patrick’s parents. “I have to close up the store.”

“We can pick you up whenever you’re done,” Clint reasoned. “I’m in the mood for pizza, and I spotted a place near the hospital. Do you know it?”

David nodded reluctantly. “Reginos. It’s surprisingly good.” It was where he and Patrick had gone for their second date.

“Great. What time will you be finished here?” Clint asked, in a way that indicated he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.

David thought about it. He didn’t have Patrick to help, and he’d let most of the closing up tasks slide the night before. “Umm, six-thirty?”

Clint clapped his hands together. “We’ll be back at six-thirty to pick you up.” He seemed very pleased, so David tried to look pleased too. He suspected his smile wasn’t quite cutting it.

As soon as they left, he texted Patrick. He wasn’t sure if Patrick would be checking his phone, but he hoped. Help, your parents are taking me for pizza. No response came immediately, so David went to work cashing out the register drawer.

His phone didn’t ping until he’d finished with the bookkeeping and was starting to sweep the floor. David leaned the broom against the counter and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Patrick: I would kill for some pizza.

David: I’ll get you as many pizzas as you can stand when you’re home.

Patrick was typing for a while — David assumed he must be doing it with one thumb, poor thing.

Patrick: I miss you. Been thinking about you all day.

It wasn’t until he saw this text that David realized — ever since he left the hospital that morning, a part of his brain had been spooling out a scenario in which Patrick had decided to break up with him. Seeing that text made him weak with relief. He pressed the button to call Patrick.

“Hey,” Patrick said as soon as the call connected.

“Your typing was too slow. And I miss you too. But what the hell am I going to talk about during an entire meal with your parents?”

Patrick sighed heavily. “I’ve just made this worse for you. I was going to tell them this morning, but doctors and nurses kept coming in and out, and I felt like shit, and—”

“Honey, I told you. You don’t have to apologize.” David probed his feelings for the resentment he knew he’d be justified in feeling, but all he could find was sympathy. “I know this kind of thing is hard for you.”

“I keep wondering if you’re just holding back on being angry with me because I’m in the hospital,” Patrick said.

“I promise I’m not.” David took a deep breath. “I keep wondering if, faced with the idea of telling your parents about us, you’re realizing that I’m all wrong for you.”

“David. Nothing could be further from the truth. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They were silent for several seconds, basking in each other’s reassurances.

“Ask them to tell you stories about when I was little, that’ll keep them going for a while,” Patrick said. “Or talk about the store.”

“Okay, good ideas. Got any others?”

“I don’t know, tell them about the time you went parasailing with Anderson Cooper?” Patrick said with a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not going to be doing that.”

“Will you be here in the morning when I get sprung from this place?”

“Won’t your parents think it’s weird, me being there?” David asked.

“I think I’ll ask them to meet us at the apartment. Can you pick me up? Just you?” His voice sounded small.

“I guess I’m going to be doing a lot of that until you can replace your car,” David responded with a smile that he hoped Patrick could hear.

Patrick groaned. “I hadn’t really even thought about that yet.”

“And you don’t need to,” David said, immediately regretting that he’d brought it up. “Just get some rest tonight and I’ll see you in the morning.”

~*~

Clint ran his fingers over the edge of the checkered tablecloth as the server put menus in front of them. “What’s good here, David?”

David’s eyes widened like he’d been asked a personal question rather than just what kind of pizza he liked. “Um, the meat lover is good. And the chicken pesto.” His lips slid to the side in a little half-smile. “Patrick likes the spicy barbecue chicken.”

Marcy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like spicy pizza.”

“Yes, thank you,” David said. “Spicy food is fine, but that’s another genre of food from pizza. Spiciness destroys the flavor palette of a pizza; I’ve told him a million times.”

“I’m afraid he gets that from me, but I’ve resigned myself to the fact that there are certain foods I can’t get when I’m out with my wife,” Clint said, winking at Marcy.

“Or when you’re going to be sleeping next to me afterwards,” Marcy said, which made David laugh with surprise.

They ordered the meat lover pizza on David’s recommendation, and with that task completed, their conversation lulled. Clint tried not to be too blatant in his observation of David, this man who had gone into business with his son last year. This man who Patrick often ended up talking about during their phone calls when he ran out of other things to tell them about.

This man who, after this morning, Clint was convinced his son was in love with.

He didn’t think Marcy had noticed, and he’d decided not to bring it up to her in the car. He wanted to turn it over in his mind some more, determine if it had the weight of truth. But he’d seen the look on Patrick’s face when his eyes met David’s in that hospital room, and he was fairly certain he wasn’t wrong.

“So did Patrick really start playing hockey when he was four?” David asked suddenly. He grimaced almost like he was surprised the question had come out of his mouth.

Marcy launched into the story of the time she strapped their son into hockey gear and put him on the ice for his first lesson, and Clint watched the warmth grow in David’s eyes as he listened to the tale. It became clear during the conversation that David didn’t know anything about hockey, but he seemed interested nonetheless, asking follow-up questions about what Patrick had been like as a child until the pizza arrived, steaming and delicious.

They asked David about his own family as they ate. He hesitated at first in his responses, but he soon warmed to the topic. He talked about his father going into business with Stevie to save the motel, his mother serving on town council, and his sister starting her own business. It became clear that David was proud of what his family had accomplished in Schitt’s Creek.

“You’ve all done so much after such a terrible thing happened to you,” Marcy said.

“I think most people see what happened to us as karmic justice,” David said. “People love stories about rich people being knocked down a few pegs.”

“Well,” Marcy said thoughtfully, “I can’t pretend to know what your life was like before, but regardless, it’s unfair that you had everything stolen away. And it’s admirable, what your family has done for your town.”

David blushed, averting his eyes and wiping his hands with a napkin. “Thank you,” he said in a soft voice.

After dinner, they dropped David off at the motel before driving back to Patrick’s apartment. Marcy excused herself to the bathroom, and Clint pulled out his phone and called Patrick.

“Hey, Dad,” Patrick said when he answered, his voice sounding stronger than it had earlier in the day. “How was dinner?”

“It was good. Just checking to make sure they’re still planning to spring you in the morning.”

“Yeah, as far as I know.”

“What time should we be there to pick you up?” Clint asked.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. David’s going to pick me up tomorrow,” Patrick said.

“Doesn’t he have to open the store? It’s no problem for us to be there.”

“Nope,” Patrick said firmly. “We’ll meet you at the apartment.”

Clint smiled to himself. “You must be excited to get home.”

Patrick chuckled. “You have no idea. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad. Love you.”

Marcy came out of the bathroom just as Clint was getting off the phone. “Patrick said David’s going to pick him up from the hospital tomorrow. He wants to meet us here.”

She frowned. “There’s no need for David to do that.”

“Well, Patrick wasn’t taking no for an answer.” He moved over to the window, shifting the curtain aside to look out on the nondescript lawn in the front of the apartment building. He remembered the last time Patrick broke up with Rachel, the night he came over to tell them he needed to move away and get a fresh start. “I keep going back to her by default but it’s never right. It’s not what I want.”

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” Marcy asked him.

He took a shaky breath, his eyes changing focus so that he mostly saw the reflection of the apartment in the window glass instead of the landscape outside. “Do you remember that boy, Mark? The captain of the baseball team when Patrick was in grade ten?”

“The catcher? Yes, I remember.”

“Do you remember how much Patrick used to talk about him? Walking us through every play at the plate he made?” They would ask Patrick how baseball practice had gone, and inevitably the story would turn to Mark — the way he played, or the funny things he said in the locker room.

“I mean, I guess so. Why?”

“He never talked about Rachel like that. Not even back then.”

“Clint, what are you talking about?”

He turned and faced his wife. “I said before that I thought David had unrequited feelings for Patrick, but I watched them at the hospital this morning. I watched Patrick. There’s nothing unrequited about it.”

Marcy frowned. “So you’re saying—”

“I’m saying if they aren’t a couple, then they’ve both got feelings for each other they aren’t talking about,” Clint said.

Confusion was evident on Marcy’s face. “But Patrick dated Rachel for years. And other girls.”

“I’ve been thinking about that a lot today,” Clint said with an unhappy sigh. He sat down on the sofa and put his elbows on his knees. “He was almost boxed into dating Rachel before he’d finished going through puberty. They were best friends for practically their whole lives. Everyone expected them to start dating when they got old enough, us included. And Patrick has always been such a people-pleaser; he did what was expected of him from the time he was little.”

He stood up again and paced across the floor, unable to sit still. “And, look, he could be… bisexual. Or some other orientation that I don’t know the name of. I don’t know. I just saw the look on that boy’s face this morning when he looked at David. And I don’t think I ever saw him look at Rachel that way.”

“So if that’s true, why hasn’t he told us? Why are they keeping it a secret?”

Clint ran his hands over his face. “I don’t know.”

“We’ve never given Patrick any reason to think we wouldn’t accept him, have we?”

“Other than to encourage him to get back together with Rachel when they were struggling?”

Marcy’s face fell. “And then I just assumed … with Stevie earlier, and other girls… I defaulted to the idea of him being straight. It never occurred to me not to.”

Clint walked over and took her hand. “Me either. So, we start making up for it now. Yeah?”

She wiped away a stray tear. “Yeah.”

Chapter 4

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Those Who Fall: “APTF” Story (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)

Seventeen:

Taking a seat on the floral loveseat, Steve spotted the abandoned combat boots on the floor and looked over the nervous couple. Getting comfortable while Bucky took the seat next to him, Steve started, "To start, we don't appreciate sneaking around. Especially not after curfew. You nearly gave us a heart attack thinking that someone was breaking in."

Wanda winced as she sincerely apologized, "Sorry."

"It's alright," Bucky assured. Then, so they wouldn't assume that they could keep doing it, he added, "This one time."

"Since you're not in school, we've been pretty lenient about things," Steve admitted, even if it was only half-true. The other half was that they weren't sure she'd stay, so they were trying to be accommodating.

"Typically, we appreciate the older kids to set an example for the younger ones. On weeknights, curfew is ten. On weekends, it's midnight. We think that's more than generous, and when our older two come back from college, they follow it all the same. So, it's not us picking on you. And they hate it just as much, but they respect us the same way we respect them. The same way we respect you." Bucky eloquently stated, taking Steve's hand in his, but keeping his eyes on the teens.

"That's right," Steve agreed. Then, without discussing this with Bucky beforehand -- the way he normally would -- Steve continued, "Since this was the first time -- and hopefully, only time -- we're not going to make you stop seeing each other."

Both teens asked, "You're not?"

Their shock was genuine and Bucky gave Steve's hand a squeeze while he answered for them both, "No, we're not."

"In fact," Steve watched the pair, enjoying the small smiles that played on their lips. It was clear that no one else had taken the chance to get to know him and had tried to stop them from being together. And Steve could only guess that that was the reason why she had run away from all the other families. Sure, Steve didn't like the possibility that this was a bad kid, but if he was and they tried to keep them apart, Wanda would be eighteen soon. Legally, she'd be making her own decisions…

Clearing his throat, Steve offered, "If you want to, you can join us on Friday for the Homecoming game. We usually make homemade pizzas and go to the game after. We'd like to get to know you, Vision."

"Vis," the boy corrected, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Vis," Steve corrected himself with a small smile of his own. "Maybe, you'd like to get to know us, too?"

Beside him, Wanda was biting back her grin as she looked between the men, studying them. After a moment, she asked, "Really?"

"Of course," Steve reassured.

"If Vis is important to you, he's important to us," Bucky confirmed, "That's how family's work."

And just like that, Wanda's lower lip quivered and she broke out into silent sobs. Tears streaming down her face as she held her hands up to cover her face. Embarrassed by the emotion. The way her boyfriend slid closer to softly comfort her told Steve everything he needed to know about Vis in that moment.

"I'm sor… sorry. It's the, the… hor… mones," Wanda sniffled, wiping under her eyes to catch the tears. All the while, Vis held his hand to Wanda's abdomen and stroked his thumb in soothing circles over the baby bump.

Leaning over, Vis gave Wanda's cheek a kiss and whispered something in her ear. After she nodded, the boy redirected his attention to Steve and Bucky, answering, "I'd love to join you on Friday."

"Good," Steve grinned, leaning into Bucky.

Draping his arm around Steve's slender shoulder's, Bucky said, "Now that that's settled, we're gonna have to ask you to leave. Consider that the punishment for sneaking in."

Vis's smile remained as he shoved his feet into his boots and reluctantly stood from the couch, "Thank you. Really. It means a lot."

"Don't mention it," Bucky assured.

The men sat there as Vis helped Wanda off the sofa. Although she was only about halfway through the pregnancy, the gesture was still sweet, even as Wanda rolled her eyes. Worrying her lower lip, she asked, "Would it be alright if I told him goodnight."

"Yeah, go for it," Bucky playfully waved them off while Steve teased, "We remember being young."

While the pair headed over to the foyer, Bucky whispered, "What do you think?"

"I'm thinkin' those bruises of theirs are a bigger story," Steve replied, his stomach churning. It made him wonder who the hell had given them those black eyes and Wanda's strangle marks."Other than that, I think he's polite."

"Stevie," Bucky taunted, playfully poking Steve's cheek, "Didn't anyone ever tell ya that the polite boys are the ones to look out for?"

Playfully, Steve rolled his eyes and swatted at Bucky's hand. Before he could say anything, Wanda entered the living room again. Nervously, Wanda tugged at the sleeves of Bucky's sweatshirt aka her sleep shirt, and said, "I'm sorry for sneaking Vis in. I was nervous… But I should've just asked."

"It's okay," Steve reassured and Bucky added, "Just, please, don't do it again."

"I won't," Wanda promised. Gesturing over her shoulder, she said, "Well, I should get some sleep. Goodnight." With her foot on the grand staircase, she looked back over to them, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweetie," Bucky smiled.

Once she was upstairs, Bucky stood from the loveseat and extended his hand for Steve; pulling him up from his seat. Heading for the staircase, Bucky teased, "Remember when we were young and in love?"

"Yeah, it was pretty lame," Steve deadpanned, "Always thinking about your ugly mug? Not something I'd do again. Twelve out of ten, not recommended."

"Oh, yeah? That's how you really feel? Hmm, punk?" Bucky feigning offense.

"Maybe," Steve childishly stuck his tongue out. "Whatcha gonna do about it, jerk?"

Playfully, Bucky narrowed his eyes. Then, instead of a witty reply, Bucky bent forward and physically threw Steve over his shoulder. Almost as easily as he did with the children, Steve might add. For a moment, Steve was too surprised to say anything. Sure, it wasn't unusual for Bucky to manhandle him, but it had been at least a few years since he had hefted Steve over his shoulder and carried him downstairs.

Deciding to use the opportunity, Steve patted Bucky's ass and joked, "I think I just remembered why I fell in love with you."

Bucky chuckled at that and carried Steve back downstairs to their bedroom. Tossing him on the bed, Bucky crawled on top of him. Affectionately, Bucky pushed Steve's blond hair away from his face. Adoringly gazing into his blue eyes, Bucky sincerely admitted, "Every time that I look into your eyes, I remember why I fell in love with you."

[piratewithvigor]

Love Break My Heart: Chapter 1

Summary: A half-life relationship is disintegrating at the seams. Neither of them is good for the other, but after 14 years together, they don’t know how to be with each other anymore.

Word Count: 2109

A/N: This is a prize story written for @slashscowboyboots​ and I expect it to be about 4 chapters or so with maybe more if the chapters turn out to be much longer than this one.

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing in front of the mirror. My eyes have gone foggy from the bright lights bouncing off of every shiny surface in the bathroom and from trying to see a coherent reflection in the shattered glass. I keep meaning to go out and replace it, but every time it leaves my line of sight, I forget about it and the rage Axl was in when he punched it. All the pieces are there; just broken. It serves its purpose, just not well. It’s doing well enough that I’m able to spot the gray hairs. 

In the time I’ve stood there (God knows how long it was), I found twelve. Plucked them each out and dropped them into the sink. I’m not even thirty yet… Nowhere near old enough to be going gray from age. 

I turn the faucet just enough that a dribble of cool water begins to flow. The stream washes away the hairs and somewhere deep in my soul, I feel like I’m telling a lie. I know exactly why I’m going gray and it wouldn’t be all that much of a guess for anyone close to me either. Not a single one of us would say it out loud. I can almost taste bile at the thought of it. The wave of nausea urges me to cup my hands under the stream of water and toss it into my face. For a moment, I feel some brief sense of relief, but the moment is fleeting. 

I dab away the water with a nearby towel and the broken mirror confronts me with proof I can’t just wash away: what used to only be crinkles are now lines of age etched deep in my face.

I must have gasped when I saw them; something caused Axl to turn over in bed. He’d always been a light sleeper, for as long as I’d known him. Likely a survival instinct his mind had created for him. If he was already tossing and turning, getting back into bed would almost definitely wake him up. The last thing I wanted on a day I’d already slept as poorly as I did would be a crabby Axl. Or a bitchy one. Or an angry one. He could be moments away from waking up naturally, but if someone woke him up before he was good and ready, said poor fucker would need eyes on the back of their head for the rest of the day if they wanted to make it through alive. 

I shut off the light in the bathroom and paused in the doorway for a moment to consider my options. On the one hand, I could try to get another hour or two of sleep before I’d have to get ready to head out to the studio with Axl and risk waking him up as I got back into bed, or I could just stay up and try to get any kind of work done. Judging by Axl’s second groan and turn in the sheets, it’d be more prudent to take the second option. He may or may not be pissed at me already.

I don’t remember much about what triggered the fight between us last night. My brain had been foggy during most of it and I was riding a mild hangover when I woke up. It’s possible that might have been the beginning of the argument. Axl was no saint when it came to booze either, but he was the best about it and took it upon himself to chastise the rest of the band about their habits. 

My suspicions seem to be correct, judging by the apparent tornado that had swept through the living room at the bottom of the stairs. On second thought, ‘tornado’ didn’t do the wreck justice; it was carnage. Almost as bad as the shithole the whole band was sharing when we were first starting out. The only difference was that I know the room had been clean and proper the morning before. A real ‘Better Homes And Gardens’ situation. It looks more like a crime scene as I walk through it for damage assessment. 

Nothing seems to be damaged beyond repair at first glance, just moved or thrown. The only furniture still where I remember it was the couch, which had purposely been the heaviest one available for exactly fights like the one we must have had. Can’t throw something if you can’t lift it.

Bits and pieces of the fight started coming back to me as I step over the strewn chairs, magazines and various other shit that populated the room. I remember the remote for the TV being whipped at the back of my head and a side table being poised for an equal action, but I’d be damned if I could remember why. The only thing that makes me stop is the shattered bottle of Jack by the front door. Bottles had been thrown at each other before. Back in the day, they’d been thrown at almost anything. Perfect for subduing destructive tendencies. The difference between the wrecks I recognized and the one at the door was the lack of any splatter. There’d always be a splatter from the bit of liquid left in the bottle, but there was no sign on the door. Just a little mark in the white paint where the black ink of the label had hit. No splatter meant that Axl hadn’t taken it from me to throw. That impact was my doing. 

The pang of regret hits harder than I expect it to. I don’t remember feeling angry at Axl. Or the reason why I would want to hurt him. Axl’s rage burns fast and hot, but once he’s calm, it all goes away. I’m used to the tantrums. I’m not used to coming out of a blur and finding that I wanted to hit him with a heavy bottle that could have either knocked him out or given him need of stitches. And at the front door? He wouldn’t be there unless he was planning to leave. Make-up sex isn’t going to garner me the forgiveness I need for whatever transpired the night before. 

I start by cleaning up the glass and fixing up the room as quietly as possible. Unfortunately, it means leaving all the furniture I can’t pick up to move. How Axl can in his rages, I have no idea. Instead of looking like a crack den, I leave the room looking more like the middle of a redecoration project. The second step on my quest of forgiveness is breakfast. Neither of us are too big on it, or really food in general, but coffee and toast are still a staple of the day. 

Luckily, the kitchen seems to have been completely disconnected from the chaos. A little messy from a slipshod dinner cleanup, but nothing more heinous than any nuclear family would be facing after meatloaf night. The early morning hour keeps me from wanting to scrub and dry dishes, but I can at least leave them to soak while I prep the coffee. 

The old machine looks like it’s on its last legs, but I doubt we’d get rid of it even when it finally decides to stop. It was the one luxury we all chipped in on when we started renting the band house. We mostly stole anything more expensive than a Big Mac but security at the appliance store were on us like hawks if we dared to step into the store. We could have probably survived without food and most of our vices, but taking coffee away from a house full of drunks was just asking for murder. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was still kicking after the horrendous overuse we put it through. A memory of when the five of us weren’t too fucked up to work together.

I exhale softly when the thought passes through. Stevie may have been a pain in our collective asses, but he was our pain in the ass. Part of the guys. And he threw it all away over a vice. If one of the five of us could leave, then who was next? 

The little light on the coffee maker begins to blink. There used to be a shrill beep that went with it, but the speaker was promptly removed when five angry drunks with five angry hangovers unanimously decided that there was no place in the house for that kind of bullshit. 

I’m pouring the first cup when quiet shuffling from behind me results in two arms around my waist.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” I murmur, setting the pot back down. I can feel Axl shake his head between my shoulderblades. 

“I was up anyway. Thanks for making the coffee and cleaning up.” His voice is still thick with sleep, making it deep enough that I can hardly hear him. 

“Want something to eat? I was feeling toast.” He considers for a few moments and I’m almost worried he fell asleep against me. He eventually nods, still holding onto me gently.

“Butter, unless you wanna open that jam from your mom.” I turn around in his grasp and place a kiss to the top of his head. He’s feeling the same way I am- remorseful for an event neither of us remember clearly, but knowing that reparations must be made. It’s why he’s being so physically affectionate. 

“Anything for you, Fireball.” He takes my cue to sit down at our little table in the middle of the kitchen. It’s big enough for the two of us and maybe one more if we squished elbows, not really more than a card table, but perfect for two introverts who like proximity.

When he sits down, I take my opportunity for looking him over for damages. His hair is mussed, but likely from post-sex instead of a bottle hitting it, so I’m not too worried. His collarbone is spotted with little bruises, but the placement and shape lead me to believe they’re nothing more than love bites. No scrapes or cuts along his arms. He doesn’t look like he’s facing anything worse than insomnia. I can’t blame him; the new album is set to be released within the next couple of months, and his vision for it is huge. Two full albums, released on the same day, and we’ve only got one album’s worth of songs written for them. It’s brilliant, but I’m as worried as he is about completion. 

The toast pops up and is smeared with my mom’s spiced peach jam. She sends us a few jars each summer as a care package that I used to protest about, but learned to accept. Childhood comfort foods are something that only last for so long. 

I set Axl’s plate in front of him with his coffee. We both like it strong, but he somehow takes it black without anything added. As far as he knows, mine is the same. He’s still looking a little tired and distracted, but not unhappy. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask, nibbling on a corner of toast.

“Just the albums. It’s the third album curse,” he explains, only now noticing his breakfast.

“Explain?”

“Any band’s third album is always the worst. They use up all the songs they’ve written on the first two and by the third, they have nothing to say. Zeppelin 3? Dressed To Kill? We’re having the same problem, but we’re doing two at once.” 

I can feel the floor shaking between us. He’s bouncing his knee like he always does when he has nervous energy. I lean across the table and take his free hand in mine. It’s softer; no calluses common to a guitarist. 

“You’re forgetting Toys In The Attic, London Calling, Electric Ladyland… The last two also being double albums. Dunno about you, but those guys turned out okay.” Axl manages a small smile. It’s hard to believe that the same face that can look so sweet and charming is the same one who tried to throw a table at me less than ten hours ago. “Ours are gonna kick so much ass.” As fast as the smile came, it descended into a scowl. 

“It would if I wasn’t the only one pulling his fucking weight.” I sighed quietly, only letting the air escape through my nose. An out-loud sigh would only bring on another fight. This wasn’t Axl’s fault, or even my fault. He simply stressed out about details more than the rest of us and was definitely more vocal about it. It wasn’t anyone’s fault...

[illgiveyouahint]

Honestly the more I think about it the more I just feel like whatever I'm attracted to isn't so much of a label or concept, like I understand why people say they are demi, because honestly I can relate to that, only difference is, is that I do feel sexual attraction, but I think that also comes from how someone is as well. Looks I have always thought for me been 30%-40% for me whilst 70-60% have been about personality. I've crushed on people who aren't 'conventionally' attractive but I like 1/?

aspects of them e.g. I liked a guy because I thought he was really nice and there was a sense of warmth to him but he was also a cute little stringbean (I mean this in the most affectionate way btw because screw chris hemsowrth/zac efron body types), or I've kind of been attracted/infatuated with a girl who is very athletic looking - and I don't mean thin but she's just muscle, and I love that. Thick thighs save lives! But sometimes I am attracted to conventionally handsome/attractive e.g. Sonja or Mia from SKAM/DRUCK or Jensen Ackles/Tom Hardy. Sometimes it's just features of someone or maybe characteristics that I admire and not sexually but more aesthetic e.g. David Rose/Dan Levy or Emily Hampshire (Stevie Budd - but honestly I crush on the whole cast). I'm just saying that I feel like I can relate to anything on the spectrum because I've been there. I don't think I actually felt sexually attracted to anything until I was 17 (aside from when I was 12 and I wanted to kiss this cute boy from school, but I also really crushed on him because he was aside from other my friend who also happened to be a guy, be very kind to me and he just seemed and so nice. I think that's the most thing I'm mostly attracted to is how their personality is because I've never found I really liked tinder and stuff. I'm not sure why I'm writing this to you, maybe you just seem like the best person to talk to. But yeah when I was 17 JA was my first celebrity crush that I was sexuallly attracted to and then for women it was probably Theresa Eggesbø (I had a dream that I was on a road trip with her but Henrick Holm joined halfway, but then we ended up having to share a bed together - so in a way he cockblocked but also helped?). But even now the majority of crushes I have had have been much more emotional more than physical. I just feel like I have other things to do that are more important, and I'm okay with that. I don't know, sometimes it is like that and it's more of a vibe I get. But I’ve been wrong mostly lol. So idk. You never know with these things

Hello, anon,

firstly let me just say thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this.

I get it attraction is...well it's confusing. Even for straight folks it's confusing. Also, I personally see attraction =/= crush. Like I've been attracted to many people but I only had a crush couple of times. There are characteristics I find attractive and people I find attractive but to get those butterflies in your stomach? Yeah, I need to know that person first of course. 

I can tell that it's been bothering you. This not knowing. It could be that you're asexual but allo/demiromantic. But honestly whether you do or do not fall somewhere on the ace spectrum doesn't matter. 'Cause I very much believe that in the end we all experience attraction/love/relationships differently and there is no right way to be because there is no one way to be. As our favourite character once said

If your attraction is more emotional and less physical? That's okay and it's just one of the many ways how one can experience an attraction.

As I always say labels are here to help you if you want. But in the end, each person is different. One of the activists I know has said that they believe that there are as many genders as there are people on earth and I do believe that to be the case of sexuality/attraction too. Yes, we have created some names and labels for vaguely similar experiences but trust me I have quite a few bi friends and each of us experience attraction so differently and have such different experiences that I might end up connecting more to my aroace nonbinary friend than to a bi cis woman. 

And like you said there are other things to do that are important. I'll say just let yourself enjoy your life and enjoy the experience of being you. Do not worry too much about what it all means and what label to use or whatever. Just let yourself feel what you want to feel and focus on what you want to focus and do not worry about all this too much. If you end up falling for someone, good. who cares if it's more emotional or physical because in the end, it's about the person as a whole, isn't it? And if you don't fall for anyone also good. There are more ways to experience life than through sexual/romantic attractions.

Once again don't know if any of it was helpful but I appreciate you trusting me with this 💛

Sending you lots of love, anon

[etherealwaifgoddess]

More Time - Chpt.11

Summary: Steve, Emma, and Bucky celebrate Bucky’s 106th birthday with a party at the guys apartment.  Master list can be found HERE.

Warnings/ Content: Birthday fluff. Pepper being a super observant friend. Steve being a super affectionate cuddler. 

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Wild times we’re living in right now. My kids school just closed for the next few days while they make a long term plan for this whole COVID-19 thing and my mind is just kinda blown. My coworkers kids schools shut down for the next two to four weeks. Wild times ya’ll. I hope where ever you are you’re safe and well and that you stay that way. Sending out good vibes from my little corner of PA. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Eleven

Steve and Bucky’s apartment was enormous by Brooklyn standards but when it was filled to the brim with Avengers, SHIELD team members, and various other friends, it was still too cramped for comfort. Steve and Emma had invited everyone they could think of for Bucky’s birthday hoping that maybe a third of them would actually show up to celebrate. Everyone had such important jobs it was difficult to get more than a few friends in the same room at the same time. The stars aligned on that cold Saturday in March, however, and it had Steve rushing around trying to add on to their catering order and borrow chairs from neighbors.

Bucky was floored by the turn out and, as much as he preferred to stay on the sidelines, he found himself sitting in the middle of the living room socializing. Friends he’d made since returning to work at SHIELD as well as old friends like Pepper and Bruce mingled happily and Bucky was touched by the number of people who had shown up. Steve threw him these little concerned glances every so often but Bucky just smiled and nodded in return, he was doing okay surrounded by their nearest and dearest. Emma fluttered around the group like a pro, collecting coats, handing out drinks, and encouraging people to enjoy the lunch spread in the kitchen. Bucky watched her for a bit, impressed by how naturally she fit into their group of friends. 

“Bucky…” Pepper said with a knowing smirk. She had caught him staring at Emma just a little bit longer than he should have and the look on his face was clear as day.

“Pepper?” he replied cheekily. 

Pepper laughed and shook her head. She wasn’t going to pry, but she absolutely had caught on. 

Bucky shrugged and popped another mini crab cake in his mouth. It was his party and he was damn well going to enjoy it. Now, if he could just get Steve and Emma to join him on the sofa for a bit. Bucky excused himself, leaving Pepper and Sam to catch up while he navigated through the herd to Steve. 

Despite his best efforts, Bucky couldn’t wrangle Steve or Emma for more than a few minutes at a time. They were both constantly in motion, making sure everyone was taken care of and things were running smoothly. Steve enjoyed catching up with agents he used to work with and hadn’t seen since he officially stepped down. Emma spent the few spare seconds she had getting to know some of Bucky’s close friends; dazzling Sam with her quick wit and bonding instantly with Wanda. It wasn’t until the last of the guests had left that Bucky actually got any face time either of them. Bucky was sat on one end of the sofa, Emma on the other, with Steve stretched out so his back was resting against Bucky’s chest and his feet were in Emma’s lap where she was rubbing them, knowing they had to be as sore as hers. Steve groaned happily at the foot massage and Bucky rolled his eyes at his dramatics. 

“We don’t have to go out tonight.” Emma offered, they were all worn out and it was barely five o’clock. 

“No,” Steve practically yelped, sitting up a little straighter, “I want to take you out. I just need a little rest before I get changed.” 

“I should run home and get changed too.” Emma stifled a yawn. 

“Both of you need a nap and some coffee.” Bucky shifted so Steve was leaning against the sofa instead of him and he could slip away.

Emma heard him rummaging around the kitchen for a few minutes and then he returned with three coffee mugs on a tray. “How do you take yours?” he asked Emma after handing Steve his cup of plain, black coffee. 

“Just a little cream or milk if you have it.” she told him.

“You got it.” he set his mug down and took hers back to fix it the way she liked it. 

Handing Emma her mug, he joined them back on the sofa. 

“What’s in yours?” she asked Bucky, noticing his was significantly lighter in color.

“Cream and sugar.” Steve rolled his eyes and Bucky pinched him in the side, “Hey, some of us enjoy the creature comforts of the twenty first century.” 

“And some of us drink coffee because we like the way it tastes.” Steve snarked back.

“Ah yes, because bitter dirt is so enticing. He drank it this way back in the depression too.” 

“That was barely more than brown water back then.” he admitted ruefully. “It was warm though and the rations were free so it could have been worse.” 

Emma and Bucky rolled their eyes in unison. “You see what I deal with here?” Bucky groused.

Emma nodded, commiserating. “Steve, you are the only person who would think back to The Great Depression and say it could have been worse. It was the depression. It doesn’t get worse than that.” 

Bucky let out a snort of laughter into his mug and his cheeks tinged pink at the outburst.

Steve held up his hands, placating them both. “Okay, okay. It was pretty bad back then. But we had a roof over our heads and enough food that we didn’t actually starve. We did okay.” 

Bucky nodded, “We were luckier than some, I’ll give you that. It got a little touch and go at times, but we made it.” 

Steve gave Bucky a warm, familiar smile that had a soft smile of his own tugging at Bucky’s lips. Emma loved moments like this between them when it was crystal clear how much they loved each other, and had for a very long time. It was hard not to feel like an interloper watching them but Emma reminded herself that they had welcomed her into their lives and she needed to trust that they knew their own minds. 

“Okay,” Bucky said abruptly, “Happier topics, shall we?” 

Emma huffed a laugh, “Like date night?”

“Like date night.” Bucky agreed, “You ever been to DaVinci’s?”

“Oh god, no. I’ve heard of it, but no.” 

“Well, we have reservations at seven if you want to try it.” 

“Seriously? No, Bucky, that’s sweet but we don’t have to go there.” 

“You’re as bad as Stevie. Might I remind you that it’s my birthday? I thought I was allowed to pick.”

“Of course you are but DaVinci’s is a bit much for a first date. You don’t have to do that. I would be just as happy getting crappy take out and watching Myth Busters with you guys on the sofa.” 

“We know you’re not the type to have dollar signs in your eyes when you look at us. But I turned 106 today and I want to get all dressed up and take my best guy and my best gal out to a nice dinner. Really, you’re doing me a favor; their veal saltimbocca is one of my favorite foods in the world.”

Steve nodded, “He’s serious. I’ve heard him make noises while eating it that aren’t decent to make in public.”  

Bucky tried to pinch Steve again but he wiggled away, curling up on the other side of the sofa with Emma. 

“Alright,” Emma said pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder, “I guess I can’t refuse an old man’s request on his 106th birthday.” 

“Nope.” Bucky popped the “p” loudly, infinitely pleased with himself. 

Steve took the opportunity to snuggle in with Emma while they finished their coffee. Emma noticed Steve was a lot more tactile than Bucky, finding subtle ways to stay connected to Bucky or her. Bucky indulged him but he was more reserved when it came to initiating contact himself. Emma soaked up the physical contact from them both like rays of sunshine. She had gone so long without being physically close to anyone. She shifted slightly in her seat, getting more comfortable.

“I’m not squishing you, am I?” Steve asked, looking back with a worried expression.

“Not at all, you’re fine.” Emma assured him. 

“If you’re sure. I know I get a little overzealous sometimes with cuddling.”

“What he means is,” Bucky interjected, “He’s a very aggressive cuddler with zero personal boundaries.”

“Sorry” Steve said without sounding the least bit apologetic. 

“It’s okay.” Emma told him, “It’s just new for me.”

“Shit. Sorry. I don’t have to…” Steve made a movement like he was going to go back to his own seat but Emma threw her free arm around him tighter. 

“No, it’s fine, really. I just, well, I haven’t dated in a really long time. And the guy I was with last wasn’t very physical.”

“His loss.” Steve gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Emma looked over at the clock and sighed. “I really have to head home if I’m going to be ready in time for dinner.” 

“You want us to pick you up at your place? I was gonna drive tonight.” 

“Sure, I’ll text you both my address so you have it.” 

Emma pulled out her phone and sent them the info before getting up and heading out. She was as reluctant to leave as they were to let her go. It was only for an hour though and she hurried home through the slushy sidewalks to get ready for their date.

Tag list lovelies: @godofplumsandthunder​ @remilupin22​ @supraveng​ @hiddles-rose​

If anyone wants added or removed please lmk!