#Steve wouldn’t think much about it but this is the second week in a row Eddie has refused to eat anything but pizza and ranch

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Eddie Munson is the type to listen to goofy goober rock on repeat while eating ranch on pizza while his roommate, Steve Harrington is staring at him with heart eyes while also making a appointment to get him checked out for autism.

[hairstevington]

Stranger Therapy - part 2!

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Based on this text post, Steve and Eddie match on Tinder and decide to go to couple's counseling on a first date to see how long it takes the therapist (Murray) to figure them out. Chapter 1, Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3k again!

Warnings: This one has a moment of actual therapy lmao, nothing TOO serious but Eddie has low self-esteem and Steve is closed off, modern day AU, aged up, brief Robin cameo, Matchmaker Murray.

A/N: OMG I was NOT expecting such a big reaction to part 1!! Here is the much requested part two, and I plan to continue for probably another two or three chapters. Thanks to all who have read so far!! PS I really did look into the counselor code of ethics for this one lmao

“So, how’d it go?” Robin asked once Steve got home. 

He had no idea how to answer that question. 

“It was…” He wandered to the fridge to grab a drink, wondering how much of the experience he should share with Robin. Generally, they told each other everything, but wasn’t therapy usually a private thing? So it wouldn’t be too terribly weird to not tell her, right? “Did you know he went to Hawkins High with us?”

“He did?” she asked, just as confused as Steve had been. “Like, at the same time we were there?”

“Yup. Eddie Munson ring a bell?” Robin thought about the name for a second before her eyes widened. 

“Oh my god! Yes I remember him!” She laughed, then continued once she’d settled down. “Okay, yeah. He’s definitely the kind of person who would want to do the first date fake couple’s counseling thing. He was always a little…outside of the box.”

“Come on,” Steve replied. “You say the meanest shit to me, and the best you can come up with for Eddie is that he’s ‘outside of the box?’ Robin, he’s never even seen the box.” She laughed again.

“Okay, sure,” she agreed. “I’m guessing it didn’t turn out to be a good match?”

Steve hesitated again, because no, that wasn’t it. He wasn’t sure if they were a good match, honestly. He ran through the events of the day in his head, then realized just how batshit insane it all was. And Steve had agreed to it. 

And he didn’t even regret it. 

He imagined telling Robin, and her relentlessly teasing him about it like she always did. This would give her enough ammunition to last a lifetime. It probably would be even worse than the fateful day at the mall when Steve had accidentally ripped his pants while attempting to hit on a girl. Robin had a front row seat for that one, and she still brought it up. 

Steve agreeing to go to therapy with an actual stranger, pretending to date said stranger, and working on actual personal issues together? Yeah, no. Steve was gonna take this shit to the grave.

Except, he wouldn’t, would he? Because he had an accomplice. They also weren’t strangers, not really, but they were still acquaintances, at best. An acquaintance that Steve had intermittently thought about kissing ever since Eddie mentioned it with Dr. Bauman. 

Ohhh, this is bad I think.

“Earth to Steve,” Robin said, interrupting his thought spiral. “Are you going to see him again or not?”

“We’re gonna get coffee next week,” Steve lied. He never lied to Robin, and he felt immediately horrible about it, but he couldn’t tell her, right? 

He almost broke and told her the honest truth, because sitting with the lie was so uncomfortable. Instead, he told himself that if he actually got coffee with Eddie next week, then he wouldn’t be lying. Loophole!

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “I really didn’t expect anything to come from this.”

“Yeah, well he’s -” Steve tried to think of what exactly it was about Eddie that was so enticing. He was hot, obviously. Charismatic. He was able to take Steve off guard, and they rolled with each other’s bullshit pretty smoothly. It was strange how connected he felt to Eddie in the session. Like they really were in tune with each other. Like they were an actual couple. “He’s cool. We had fun.”

“I know you’re not telling me something,” Robin said, eyeing him suspiciously. “But I guess it’s not my business. Plus, confidentiality and all that.”

Unlike Steve, Robin had been to therapy before. She had always told Steve he should go, too, but he never had. 

Until now, of course. But first, he had to cover his bases. 

-

Steve: Do you wanna get coffee before our appointment?

Eddie: Sure, gives us a chance to get our stories straight

Eddie: Hold on let me make the joke before you do

Steve: ?

Eddie: About our stories being gay and not straight!!

Steve: I wasn’t gonna make that lame-ass joke

Eddie: Sure you weren’t

Steve: And if I was, my delivery would have been way better

Eddie: oh shit

Eddie: Steve’s biting back today ;)

Steve: Well I gotta keep up with you, don’t I?

Eddie: Mmm i see how it is. Noon work for coffee?

Steve: I’ll be there

-

Eddie had recently been told by a close friend that he needed to get his shit together. The couple’s counseling wasn’t a whole master plan on Eddie’s part - he really did think it sounded fun, and it was - but the thought of talking out some of his issues was appealing, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

This close friend of Eddie’s - the one who suggested Eddie had an attitude problem and low self-esteem - had mentioned Dr. Bauman a few times in the past. He apparently worked wonders on couples, even the ones who argued all the time. His success rate was remarkable. 

Thinking back on it, maybe Eddie did kind of want to do couple’s counseling with Steve and Dr. Bauman for a reason. 

Like, come on. There was a spark there, right? There was something, at least. Who else would have gone along with Eddie’s crazy this much? Steve understood Eddie, and while he kept calling this whole thing ‘insane,’ it didn’t stop him from agreeing to it. Because there was something there between them. 

But mainly, Eddie just wanted to see a therapist, he didn’t really want to do it alone, and for whatever reason Steve seemed like the right person to be there. 

Okay, yeah. Steve’s right. This is insane. 

-

The cafe down the street from Murray’s office was small and cozy, and had fancy syrups for the coffee that Steve secretly loved. He came here sometimes, under the guise that he was getting a strawberries and cream oat milk latte for Robin, even though literally none of the workers cared. 

“Your usual?” the barista asked when Steve and Eddie got in line. Steve tried not to notice Eddie’s amused expression and the way his eyebrows were raised expectantly, desperate to know what Steve ordered so often the workers had it memorized. 

“Uhhhh…” Steve wasn’t sure why he was blushing. He never cared much about being seen as masculine, and he was literally going to therapy with this guy, so things were about to get a lot more embarrassing than a coffee order. He looked at Eddie. “Don’t judge me, it’s delicious.” Eddie laughed. 

“I don’t give a shit,” he said. “Whatever it is, own it.” Steve turned to the barista.

“Yes, the usual,” he told her. 

“I’ll get the same thing,” Eddie chimed in. Steve felt a flutter of something in his chest, somewhere between anxiety and flattery. 

They got their drinks and sat down. Steve took a sip and tried not to show on his face how happy this stupid beverage made him. It was a simple joy, you know?

“Okay, so you wanted to come up with some kind of game plan, right?” Steve asked as he waited for the caffeine to hit. 

“Yeah, I mean -” Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably. What the hell is he nervous about, Steve wondered. “If Murray figures us out now, he’ll drop us. So we have to be a bit more convincing.”

“How are we supposed to be more convincing? Do you want us to start making out on the couch or something?” Steve suggested it as if he wouldn’t be extremely happy to do so. 

“If it comes down to it,” Eddie teased back. Steve blushed once again. He was so much better at flirting than he was being flirted with. “My favorite color is black or red, depending on the day. I still mostly eat canned foods and TV dinners because I never figured out the whole meal prep thing, but it works out fine because my favorite food is mac and cheese. I play a lot of video games and I have a Dungeons and Dragons group. I’m kind of amazing at the guitar -”

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, not getting it. Eddie sighed.

“I’m telling you about myself, what do you think I’m doing?” He shook his head and chuckled. “So you have context, or whatever. So we’re not just making shit up.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve responded. “What about your family?”

“Yeah, we’re not gonna touch that subject with a ten foot pole,” Eddie muttered. “Your turn.”

“Fair enough. Okay, well my favorite color is blue, I guess. I live with my best friend Robin. I…I’m not really good at this.” Steve took another sip of his drink and wondered why he couldn’t come up with more facts about himself. 

“College?” Eddie asked. Steve shook his head. “Me neither. Do you like music?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered. “I took piano lessons for a while and then I taught myself the rest.”

“Impressive,” Eddie noted. “Do we ever play music together?”

“I guess we could,” Steve said with a shrug. It was fun, coming up with a backstory like that. “Aren’t you going to drink your coffee?”

“Oh Jesus, no. It’s got way too much sugar for my taste.”

“Then why did you get one?” Eddie smiled.

“Because now -” Eddie slid his cup across the table until it was directly next to Steve’s. “-you have one for later.” Steve stared down at both cups, perplexed. 

“That is…like, incredibly sweet,” he said.

“Just like that abomination you call coffee,” Eddie replied.

-

After intake, Dr. Murray Bauman examined the counseling code of ethics, and unsurprisingly there was nothing in there saying it was unethical to continue treating a couple who were lying about being a couple. He didn’t have proof they were pretending, of course, but clients lied to therapists all the time. If they showed up for their appointment, Murray was going to counsel them. That was his job. Truly, it would have been unethical not to work with them. 

They did show up, and they were right on time. Immediately, Murray noticed something was different. They were more comfortable with each other, and Steve in particular looked much less terrified. 

“So,” Murray began, “tell me how your week has been.”

“It’s been good,” Eddie answered. “You really helped us out a lot.”

For a fleeting moment, Murray believed him. He thought that maybe his instinct had been wrong, and they actually were a couple, and they’d somehow managed to get over Steve’s affair in a matter of forty minutes. 

But it was only a moment. Murray was a great counselor, but nobody was that good. His suspicions were confirmed when Steve opened his mouth. 

“We actually think our relationship is solid, and we kinda just want to focus on our own individual issues,” he said. 

It was far too polished of a statement for it to have not been planned. Which meant one thing - Steve and Eddie were just looking for individual therapy, and were going at the same time for…emotional support? Cost-effectiveness? 

Murray nodded. This was all a first for him, and he loved uncharted waters. 

“Okay, what would you like to focus on first?” he asked. 

“I’ll go,” Eddie offered. “So, I have this friend that says I have self-esteem issues, but it doesn’t really make sense to me because I feel like I’m pretty confident. Like, I haven’t really mastered how to be a grown-up or anything, and I’m kind of a mess sometimes, but it’s all part of my charm, you know? I’ve always been a little crazy, but I also think I’m awesome, so…” 

“If you think you’re awesome, why does someone else’s opinion matter?” Murray asked. 

“I dunno, aren’t you the one who has the answers?” Eddie asked. “Just skip to the part where you tell me what’s wrong with me.”

“Well, that’s not usually how this works,” Murray began, “but I think I do see what’s going on.”

“Enlighten me,” Eddie said. 

“You just said you were confident but called yourself a mess and a little crazy in the same breath,” Murray replied. “You can exude confidence all you want, but it doesn’t mean you actually believe those things about yourself. Steve, what do you think about this?”

“Uhhh -” Steve looked absolutely unequipped to answer the proposed question. “I think Eddie knows how hot and charming he is, actually. I don’t think it’s bullshit.”

“I didn’t say it was bullshit,” Murray countered, noticing that this time Eddie was the one to blush. “But there is a difference between ego and self-esteem. It’s not just about confidence, it’s about self-respect and worth. Eddie, do you feel valuable?”

“Like, in this relationship?” Eddie asked. 

“No, in this world.” 

This question stopped Eddie dead in his tracks. His face went pale, and he became visibly nervous at the prospect of being so vulnerable. 

“Fuck,” Eddie said at last. “I mean, uh - not really, but it's not personal, I don't think. Just feels like we're all specks of dust on a rock, you know?"

There was another shift in the room, but Murray couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. 

“Can you tell me a bit about how you grew up?” he wondered. Family history was a standard line of questioning in these early sessions. Eddie froze.

“Actually, I really wanna focus on my thing now, if that’s okay,” Steve interrupted. Eddie seemed relieved to pass the torch, so Murray went with it. 

“Of course. What’s going on with you, Steve?”

“Uhh, well, I - um -” he sputtered, his leg bouncing rapidly. “I keep having this nightmare - like, every night - where there’s a monster in my closet. What do you think that means?”

“Well,” Murray said, leaning back in his chair. “Dream psychology isn’t really my specialty -”

“Okay, but I reeeeally wanna talk about it,” Steve persisted. "Like, is the monster a metaphor about my sexuality or is it supposed to be my dad? Help me out here."

While Steve babbled about his obviously made up dream, Murray caught Eddie staring at the man beside him. There was a completely unmistakable twinkle in Eddie's eye that told Murray everything he needed to know. Whether these boys knew it or not, they cared about each other. 

“As you wish,” Murray conceded. They used the rest of their time focusing on much less heavy subjects, and it was pretty clear that was intentional. He understood, though, that it was important not to take these things too fast. Before long, the color returned to Eddie’s face, and the boys were riffing off each other again flawlessly. 

This was getting more and more interesting by the minute. 

-

“Things were intense for a bit in there,” Eddie said as they walked back to the parking lot.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “You okay?”

“M’good,” Eddie replied. “Your dream thing. Was that real?”

“Uh, no. I just thought you needed a break.”

“Oh,” he said. “Normally I’d give you a spirited monologue about how you don’t know me and therefore shouldn’t make my decisions for me.”

“What are you gonna say instead?” Steve asked. 

“Well, considering you’re technically paying for this, I don’t really have a leg to stand on,” Eddie chuckled. “And also, as weird as this whole thing is, I’m glad you were in there with me.” He tried to play it off as a lot more casual of a statement than it was. 

Being in therapy together and actually taking it seriously was an incredibly intimate thing. Steve wasn’t sure he could actually be as open as Eddie had been. 

“I think we’re skipping a whole lot of steps, here,” Steve said, attempting to return Eddie’s light tone. 

“Yeah, well I’ve always hated steps,” Eddie replied. “I tend to trip over ‘em.” 

“Right.” Steve chuckled. “So…same time next week?” Eddie flashed a genuine smile and nodded. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Oh, but next time - you’re in the hot seat. No fake dreams, I’m talking real shit, okay?”

“Oh, you’re making demands, now?” Steve asked, amused. “What happened to you not having a leg to stand on?”

“Huh,” Eddie responded, pondering this for a moment. He shrugged. “I guess I can fly.” 

Steve had no intention of actually diving into real shit, especially after he’d seen the way Murray dug into Eddie during the session. Steve wasn’t ready to confront anything. He refused to admit there was anything to confront in the first place. But he would go - of course he’d go, because something deep within him told him he’d regret it if he didn’t.

Steve and Eddie weren’t a couple. They weren’t strangers. They weren’t friends. But damn, they were something.

(next chapter)

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

@escapingthereality @imfinereallyy @raisedbylibrarians @samthemissfit @chaoticvictorianspirit @elizbaehth @despoenaandpyromania @cr0w-culture @bagofgreentea @f1ct1onwh0re @novelnovella @thing-a-ling @bisexualdisastersworld @practicallybegging @soldiers00 @beckkthewreck @fandomz-brainrot @shrimply-a-menace @justanothergirlwithobsessions @freshflowers-and-dryingherbs

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[janeykath318]

A Princess Bride Meet Cute (Shieldshock)

For @glynnisi

“You’ve got that dumbstruck smile again, Darcy,” Jane pointed out to her friend as they sipped their coffee. “I can’t believe you still haven’t talked to him.”

Darcy just shrugged, eyes following the broad back of Steve Rogers as he exited the little cafe.

“It’s very unlike me, I know,” Darcy admitted. “But I don’t wanna ruin this fun little…….thing. Hitting on Captain America is a bit different than some random cute dude.”

“How so? Steve’s just a normal guy and you’d find that out for yourself if you’d just talk to him.” Jane sighed.

Darcy snorted. “Normal? Him?”

She’d been exchanging non-verbal greetings with Steve for a couple months now since they’d moved into Avengers tower. He’d smile and wave at her whenever they’d pass each other in the hall or share an elevator. Darcy would return the smile, always feeling very giddy from the beauty of it. She hadn’t got up the courage to say anything yet, which annoyed Jane greatly.

“Well, just be glad Romanoff’s away or she would see your eye fucking and deal with you two idiots posthaste.”

“It’s not eye fucking, Jane! He’d probably die of horror at the thought.”

Jane just gave a mysterious smile. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“Are you coming with me to the Princess Bride screening tomorrow?” Darcy asked to change the topic. It was her favorite movie and she was very hyped to see it on a big screen.

“Sadly, no,” Jane answered regretfully. “I’ve got a very important meeting that Fury won’t let me miss.”

“Ugh.” Darcy wrinkled her nose. “My sympathies.”

The following day, she entered the theater armed with a giant bowl of popcorn and a couple boxes of Resees Pieces. It was midday on a Tuesday, so the place was pretty much empty, which Darcy loved. She didn’t have to worry about judgmental stares from old people or being tripped over by kids taking a half dozen potty breaks.

During the second trailer, she heard someone approach her row and looked up to see Steve Rogers sit down four seats away from her. He gave her a delighted smile and she instinctively waved back, even as her stomach did somersaults.

“Who are you trying to fool, Lewis?” She heard Natasha’s voice in her head. “You’ve got it bad.”

As the movie progressed, she glanced over periodically to gauge Steve’s reaction, which indicated he hadn’t seen the movie before, but was heartily enjoying it. He seemed especially tickled by the iocane powder scene and the Rodents Of Unusual Size.

Darcy heaved a happy sigh as the credits rolled, munching the last of her candy contentedly. Her neighbor was marking something down in a small notebook.

“I waited way too long to watch that movie,” she heard Steve say as he pocketed the notebook. “That was fantastic.”

“I know, right?” Darcy exclaimed, forgetting her shyness around him. “I’ve seen it fifteen times now and it never gets old.”

“I’ll have to catch it again, sometime.” Steve remarked, then he looked more closely at her and did a double take.

“Wait—you’re the one I’ve been seeing around the tower lately with Dr. Foster. I’m Steve Rogers.”

He held out a large hand and Darcy shook it happily.

“Wow. I’m Darcy Lewis, and I was wanting to say something before, but your face left me tongue-tied.”

Steve chuckled.

“Well, your face left me equally tongue-tied.”

Darcy’s face grew warm and she decided to go for it.

“Hmm. Natasha would shake her head at how much time we’ve wasted. Wanna get a late lunch?”

“Absolutely,” Steve agreed, giving another bashful smile. “And yes, if she’d been here, she probably would have locked us in a closet right now. She’s threatened to make me a Tinder profile when she gets back next week.”

“Oh, no.” Darcy shuddered at the thought. “That’s like throwing a lamb to the wolves! What was she thinking?”

Steve snorted at her simile and sighed.

“She was tired of me dragging my heels about dating again and said I was starting to resemble a sad sheepdog and needed to get a life.”

Darcy chuckled as they left the theater together.

“Well, she’s gonna be in for a nice surprise, then. Though I always thought you were the golden retriever type. Now, follow me, Steve, and I will introduce you to the best burger you’ve ever tasted.”

“As you wish,” Steve replied with a grin.

The burger was indeed very good, but Steve was far more interested in Darcy Lewis and her delightful conversation. As for Darcy, she found that a relaxed off duty Steve was a very normal person like Jane had said and very fun to be around.

Needless to say, when Natasha Romanoff returned a few days later, she was pleased to catch Steve and Darcy shamelessly flirting in the hallway.

“There’s hope for him after all.” she declared.

[morganski-19]

With a Comma After Dearest Part 2

part 1

Dear Robin,

I think that writing these like old letters is so funny. It’s like the letters they would read during the documentaries they show in history class. But a lot less serious since we’re not talking about our husbands being away at war or something. 

But anyway, I’m sorry you haven’t been able to sleep that well. I remember the first time around, not being able to get through a night without seeing the demogorgon’s face. Or just mouth I guess. I would keep replaying that moment in Jonathan’s house over and over again, it always ending in one of us dying. And then there was something else I would dream a lot too. It’s hard for me to even write it, but I think that was the worst of my nightmares. 

I know this isn’t your first upside-down encounter, but the second I think is always the worst. The first one isn’t exactly easier, but at least then you can convince yourself it is over and it’s not coming back. When it’s the second, there’s no telling if there’s going to be a third, or fourth. So the nightmares just keep coming because you’re scared that there’s going to be a next time. 

Anyway, I’m sorry for this being so sad. I didn’t mean it to be. I guess you’re just easy to talk to or write to I guess. Ever since me and Jonathan broke up, it’s kind of been hard. I lost the person I talked to the most about this, and I don’t really have a lot of other friends. It’ll be nice to have someone like that again. If you want to, be friends. 

Not to say that we’re not right now. I guess I just don’t really know that much about you. We only really spent that one week together and the only thing I can remember you saying about yourself is that you took six months longer to walk than all of the other babies.

We’ll have to hang out soon. I’m pretty busy with school right now, I have like three tests in a row starting on Monday. But I might be able to hang out on the weekend. I’ll let you know. And I’ll call you if I get the chance. 

From,

Nancy

Robin pulls out her notebook and starts to write a response, careful not to get any of the food from her lunch on the paper. She doesn’t exactly know what to say, or at least how to crop down what she wants to say instead of just rambling on in the letter. It doesn’t necessarily have to be short, Nancy’s was a full page this time. But she feels like she has so much to say that it could fill up multiple pages, or not even enough to fill one page. 

Because she doesn’t want to go into the depths of her nightmares. Doesn’t want to go in deep about how Nancy’s right. The first time is better because you think it’s over, the second is worse because you know it can happen again. This time though, it’s worse because Robin feels like she didn’t do enough. That if she had thrown herself in more danger like the first time, maybe Max wouldn’t have been in the hospital for so long, and maybe Eddie wouldn’t have almost died. 

Deep down she knows that’s not true. She knows that no matter what she did, it would have still happened. It’s not like she’s the strongest or most coordinated in the bunch. Taking down monsters with her bare hands or shooting guns isn’t her specialty. Sure, she has just the right amount to throw a flaming bottle of alcohol toward an other-dimensional demon that weakens them enough for another person to deal the final blow. But if she could only do more. 

The first time was almost built to her strong suits. Foreign language translation and puzzles that were easy for her to solve. Secret Russian bases where it was easy for her to place herself between the danger and the kids. So what if it gave her trauma that will affect her for life, she at least saved them. This time she couldn’t do anything. 

It’s gotten so bad that she’s starting to sound a bit like Steve. He’s normally the first one to start self-doubting, wondering if there was something else he could have done to make it easier for someone else. It’s him that the barrier between danger and everyone else lies. He’s the one to jump into a lake to check if there’s a mystical portal to another dimension. He’s the one to climb into said portal again to make a softer landing even though he still has open wounds on his sides. He’s the one to put himself in last place at the hospital if it means everyone else will be looked at faster. 

She tells him that he needs to look after himself more. Needs to start putting himself first sometimes and stop being so hard on himself. Though now that she’s been doing the same thing, she understands how easy it is. It’s easy to blame everything on yourself when the world flips upside down. That can’t be controlled, but the way you react to it can.  

Even now, Robin looks at the note Nancy wrote and can’t help but feel like she failed. Nancy and Jonathan broke up and she didn’t even know about it. Not that Nancy has to tell her everything, they’re not nearly close enough for that. But still, she wishes that she were there for her. She could have brought the ice cream and they could scream and cry at cheesy romcoms because they’re stupid and love isn’t real. 

But maybe that’s the point of all this. Robin could get to know Nancy more and then she could be there for those moments. And maybe Robin could tell Nancy about herself, and then Nancy could be there for her too. 

. . . 

Dear Nancy,

I have o go and watch some of those documentaries just so I can find some new ways to start these letters because the “dear” and “from” are getting old and there are better options. Like, we could have so much fun creating new ones too. 

It’s nice to know that I’m not alone in the way I‘m dealing with all of this. And I don’t mind you talking about it. It’s not as big of a mood damper if it’s already been all you can think about. I just hate that it’s so different this time. Like, last summer was hard. I’m not saying that it wasn’t. But I could at least go over to Steve’s and sleep knowing that he was alive right next to me. It’s different now that we’re in school and I have to get up every morning and pretend like nothing’s wrong. 

Also, I’m sorry to hear that you and Jonathan broke up. I thought that once he was here, you guys would talk and figure everything out. It seemed like you guys were good at doing that. Not to say that you weren’t in the end. But I guess I was rooting for you, a bit. But hey, you have me to talk to now. That’s something, I guess. 

I guess it’s true that we don’t know each other that well. I’m trying to think of all the basic shit that people would talk about in the first day of class introductions. You know, just speed run this getting-to-know process. My favorite color is green, I used to play soccer but I don’t anymore, I play trumpet in the band. I guess my fun fact would be that I’m fluent in Spanish, French, Italian, and Pig Latin. Though that isn’t really a real language, just one that I can mess with people. I can also speak a little Russian because of last summer, but I don’t bring that one up as much. 

That’s all I can think of right now. But I guess we don’t need to know that much to be friends. Trauma bonding kinda of gets us there halfway. It’s how me and Steve became best friends, so it can happen with us too. 

I also have a few tests next week too so don’t worry about it. But I’m pretty much always available for a call so feel free to do that. 

From (better outro pending),

Robin

Nancy laughs at the last line, Robin’s voice reading the words in her head. She might have not talked to Robin much since spring break, but something about her voice just stuck in her head. Hard not to when Robin can talk a mile a minute without even taking a break. It’s not that annoying when you get used to it, kind of endearing actually. And her ability to make up arguments on the spot is impressive, Nancy almost wants to convince her to join debate. 

Not like that would matter now, the school year is almost over and they’re about to graduate. Weird how time moved so fast this year. Almost like she was just running toward a finish line so she could finally end this one, terrible chapter in her life, hoping that when she turned the next page, it wouldn’t be as bad. 

That’s why these last few tests are so important. Even though she’s already been accepted into Emerson, finishing the school year without a dip in her GPA means that she made it. That out of everything that happened, there’s still a part of Nancy that hasn’t been forever changed. It’s just something to prove to herself that she can still do it. Still be able to get an A on a test and get into the college of her dreams. Even if the idea of leaving Hawkins now grows a pit in her stomach. 

Robin’s right though, they don’t really know that much about each other. Nancy makes a list in her head of everything that she knows about Robin, and while that list isn’t exactly short, she does feel like it could be longer. In the letter, Robin listed off things that Nancy wouldn’t have even thought of asking, or even thought were that necessary to know about someone in order to be their friend. But even those small details made Robin more interesting to her. She finds herself wanting to know every last small detail of Robin. 

Nancy doesn’t know what it is about Robin that draws her in. It could be how easy it is to talk to her or her warm personality, even if it is hidden behind sarcastic remarks and a tough exterior. Or maybe it’s how smart she is. Nancy would have someone else to talk to about her classes. Maybe have someone to go to the library with her again and they wouldn’t just preoccupy themselves by doing something else. 

It’s hard to think about doing things like that with someone else again, in the way she used to do it with someone else. But maybe that’s what makes Robin so interesting to her. Because deep down, Nancy can draw the parallels and make the connections, filling in the role of someone else she lost. Even though she knows it would never happen like that. Robin’s different, but a good different. She’s not going to replace what’s gone, just bring something new to the table. 

She feels a bit guilty by finding someone else to do those things with her. Have the sleepovers and the talks that were reserved for that one person and no one else. Not that she and Robin have done any of that yet, but she wants to. It would be good for her to have a friend again, a best friend again. 

That used to be Jonathan, but then that got complicated. Breaking up with him was hard, even though she knew it was coming. The separation was too much for them and they both resorted back to their old ways. They both closed each other off to how they were truly feeling. The Byers are staying for a week and then going back to finish out the school year in California. So it’s not like they couldn’t have made it work for a few more months, it would have just been too hard. 

Especially now. Jonathan wasn’t here this time, they didn’t have the same experience to talk each other through. He was driving across the country while she was walking through the upside down. It was different, too different. In the end, she was glad that he wasn’t there so he could look after Mike and El, and be with his brother who was always his first priority. Not that there was anything wrong with that. 

It was just too hard for her this time. There was something about their relationship that was gone, dissolved over the distance. She tried to ignore it, try to rebuild it in her mind. But after talking with him about it, he felt the same way, somewhat. They both wanted different lives, their paths were in different directions. They would always be there for each other but as friends. At least she hopes. 

She’s kind of just alone right now. Except she isn’t, because Robin is there. And maybe she could reach out to Steve or Eddie if she really needed it. They went through the same things, they would know where she’s coming from. But even then, it’s still a bit weird. 

It’s not weird with Robin. Or complicated. Or anything at all. It’s just normal. Like talking to a friend you’ve known your whole life. It’s something that’s natural and easy. 

. . . 

Greetings Robin,

Kind of hate that but I couldn’t think of anything else. 

I guess I never really thought about how much I know about you. I haven’t made a friend outside of upside-down experiences in so long, that I might have forgotten how to do it. But you know, I don’t really care. I think that being friends with someone is more than just knowing what your favorite color is. 

Not that I’m mad at you for telling me, it’s nice to know. Also, you speak three, four if we’re including pig-Latin, languages. Holy shit! I can only speak the little bit of Spanish that they teach in school, but I’m sure there is so much more that they don’t cover. 

Some things about me I guess is my favorite color is blue, even if my room is covered in pink. I like them both but blue is definitely my favorite. I have never played an instrument in my life, no musical ability here. I’ve always really liked writing, that’s why I like journalism so much, and English is my favorite subject. My fun fact you already kind of know, but I have a really good aim. Without even trying really. I just kind of picked up a gun one time and shot it perfectly. You could ask Jonathan if you want proof, he was there. 

That’s all I can think of right now. But if you want to know anything specific, go ahead and ask. I’m not afraid to share anything with you. You kind of have that effect, I can’t tell why. 

Also, I will definitely call if I have the time. It’ll be nice to hear your voice for once instead of just reading your letters. Not that I want to stop doing this, it’s really fun. 

Sincerely,

Nancy

(P.S. Look, I signed the letter more old-timey)

Robin rereads the letters under the glow of her bedside lamp. She doesn’t exactly know why, it’s just comforting. Knowing that someone’s been there before, laying in their bed just wishing they could fall asleep, but knowing that when they do, it won’t be for long. 

She debates calling Nancy, she really does. It’s basically an open invitation, but one she can’t seem to accept. There’s something about Nancy’s words, something about the way she writes that makes Robin confused. Well not exactly how she writes, but what she writes. 

I’m not afraid to share anything with you. You kind of have that effect, I can’t tell why.

Robin can’t tell why either. It’s odd, like the feeling she had with Steve after they escaped the Russian bunker. That feeling of trust where you can just tell anyone anything about you, and they would just listen without judgment. It’s a scary feeling to have, especially for Robin. But this time it’s a different kind of scary. She just can’t figure out why. 

Turning to her phone, she dials the number so familiar she can do it with her eyes closed. 

“Harrington residence,” Steve mutters through the phone. 

“That’s formal for a midnight caller.”

“You’d be surprised how many people call this house in the middle of the night. What’s up, Rob.”

She rolls over onto her back. “Can’t sleep.”

“Welcome to the club. What’s it this time?”

“The normal, I guess. Preparing to have another nightmare.”

“We can talk about something random, help get your mind off of it.”

Robin sighs, already feeling her eyes start to droop. “That might work.”

“Ok. Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask but have you talked to Vickie more? You two seemed to get along at the charity drive.”

“Oh uh, yeah we did. A few times. We hung out once but I don’t really think we’re going to do it that often. It’s weird. I really liked her before all of this and now, I don’t know. It kind of just faded. And we’re like really similar, but in the kind of way that you want your best friend to be but not in the way you want your girlfriend to be. I don’t know. The spark, or whatever, just wasn’t there. And we almost kissed, but it just felt wrong so I stopped it before it happened.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Rob.”

“Yeah well, what can you do? I’ll just be hopelessly alone forever.”

“Don’t say that, Rob. You’ll find somebody.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Says the guy who has been on a million dates.”

“But, has yet to find someone I actually have a connection to.”

“Whatever. How’s Eddie been?”

Steve pauses. “Ok, I guess. I don’t know. He’s, he’s really guarded with some stuff, especially with what happened when we weren’t with him. I’ve been trying to get him to open up, but he won’t. And there’s something else that’s bothering him, I can tell. I just, we’re becoming friends but it still seems like he can’t trust me.”

“Give him time,” she yawns. “I’m sure he’ll come around, I did.”

“Yeah well, that was different.”

Robin hums through the receiver, rolling over and letting her eyes shut. 

“I’ll still be on the line if you need it, but try and get some sleep. Ok.”

“Yeah, ok,” Robin whispers before she falls asleep.

. . . 

Mike knocks on Nancy’s door, causing her to look up from her notecards. “Hey, uh. Just wanted to let you know that Will’s coming over. Jonathan’s dropping him off, but he probably won’t come to the door.”

Nancy nods her head. “Ok.”

“You know, so you don’t have to see him.”

“Yeah, I got that. Thank you.” Nancy eyes the box hiding in her closet as Mike starts to shut the door. “Wait, could you let me know when he’s here? I have some stuff I should probably give back to him.”

Mike gives her a look. “How do you still have some of his stuff after he moved to California? Didn’t you give it all back then?”

“It’s complicated,” she supplies. 

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, leaving her door cracked when he leaves. 

It wasn’t exactly that complicated. Some things are just better left unexplained, at least to those who might not care to listen. Mike might care about knowing, she just thinks he might think it’s stupid. But it helped, so it wasn’t stupid to her. 

There was this jacket that Jonathan always wore a lot that reminded her of him. When he left, she asked to keep it, just to have something of him, anything. They had plenty of pictures, memories, and mixtapes. But that wasn’t the same as having the person there beside you. Having a picture didn’t comfort you during a tough night. 

She would wrap the jacket around her at night when she would miss him. When the nights felt lonely and her mind was tired of keeping the thoughts buried away, so they came back. The doubt seeped in and the nightmares came. He wasn’t there with her to help, so she relied on his jacket. Except that jacket doesn’t hold that purpose anymore, it won’t help anymore. Doesn’t help anymore.

Other things lie in that box too. A mixtape or two that she didn’t need anymore. A tape that he left in her car. Some random things that she didn’t need, that it didn’t feel right to keep. 

Mike yelled upstairs when they pulled up. Nancy braces herself with a deep breath before picking up the box and heading out the front door. 

Jonathan spots her, sighing while putting the car in park and getting out. He leans on the door, crossing his arms and avoiding looking at her. 

“Hi,” she says, not quite knowing what else to say. What do you say to someone’s heart you broke? 

“I’m guessing that’s mine.”

Nancy looks down at the box in her arms, feeling guilty that there’s so much. Mike was right, she already gave most of it back. “Yeah, just some stuff I thought you’d want.”

He looks at her, finally, taking the box from her and putting it in the back seat. “Thanks.”

“So. How’ve you been?”

“Can we not do this, Nancy,” he says, slamming the door, making her jump.

She looks down at her shoes. “Sorry.”

“I want to get to a place where we can be friends again. But I’m going to need some time. Can you just give me some space?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that. Just let me know when, if you want to talk again.”

He gets into the car without another word. Only muttering, “Goodbye, Nancy,” before driving off. 

She couldn’t help but feel guilty, but it was coming to an end, they both knew that. Maybe she just knew it more than him. If she just gave it a bit more time, maybe it would have worked. It would have, she knew it, but she just hated hurting him. Even more hurting herself. 

When she gets back to her room, she sits on her bed, knowing that she won’t be able to study for a little while. She has the urge to call Robin, just talk to someone about this with, but can't seem to do it. The words are too hard to say. Instead, she takes out a piece of notebook paper and writes, then rewrites. She compiled all of what she had to say into one page, afraid of writing too much. mike wheel

Once it’s finished, she slides it into her backpack, planning on sliding it between her locker Monday morning. 

[marypsue]

You know the drill, it's Sneak Peek Sunday and I'm here with samples from former heroes who quit too late, the third and final part of the AU where (almost) all the Hawkins kids have powers. Enjoy! Or don't, I'm not the boss of you.

...

It’s finally summer, and Robin Buckley is bored out of her mind.

Obviously she didn’t expect that working a minimum-wage job at a mall food court was going to be a font of constant entertainment. But she’d kind of hoped working with one-fourth of Hawkins High’s own resident superteam might mean at least a little excitement. The odd caped villain popping up to monologue dramatically on top of the freezer counter. Alien invasion in the storeroom. Little things, to break up the monotonous mundanity of existence.

Instead, her sole intellectual stimulation’s coming from helping Steve Harrington help his gaggle of impressionable youths sneak into movies without paying, and arguing with him over who has to refill the toppings. The only time Robin’s even seen Steve play the superpower card is to drive off the other gaggle of impressionable youths who like to hang around the food-court fountain and abuse Scoops Ahoy’s free sample policy. And even then, they’re always back in a day or two. Some superpower.

When Robin points this out to him, though, Steve just says, “I could make you do the toppings refills every time, if you really want,” and she realises she doesn’t need to see his powers in action that bad, after all.

She doesn’t even get to see Barbie all day, despite working in the same food court. The smoothie place Barb’s working at wouldn’t hire Robin too, and the manager is a tyrant and a sadist and never lets Barb take her breaks when Robin has hers. All they can do is cast commiserating miserable glances across the rows of tables in the middle of the food court when Robin has to mop the front, and swing by each other’s fine establishments to talk on their breaks. And the Orange Julius Caesar shoos Robin right off if she doesn’t buy something while Barbara’s working. Robin’s spent way too much of her hard-earned Scoops money working her way through every flavour they offer, and started again from the beginning. If she never sees crushed ice again in her life, it’ll be too soon.

So of course Robin’s interested, when she catches Steve and the toothless one with the curls – Henderson? Robin’s pretty sure it’s Henderson – hiding in the breakroom and playing a tape of nonsense, over and over and over again.

Okay. So ‘interested’ might be a slight overstatement. Maybe ‘pissed that Steve’s abandoned her to deal with the mall maggots alone, again’ is more accurate. But still. They’re doing something, and Robin would literally rather set herself on fire than keep manning the counter for one more second.

“Hey, shitbirds!” she announces, storming into the back room and grabbing the tape player from the middle of the shitty card table before either Steve or Henderson can stop her. She holds it over her head, out of at least Henderson’s reach, still spilling its weird droning message. “At least one of you is getting paid to be out front right now. Enough word puzzles.”

She doesn’t really have a lot of patience for the nonplussed look Steve and Henderson trade over the table.

“…word puzzles?” Henderson asks her, at last, and Robin frowns at him.

“Yeah? The week is long, doofus, but it’s not over yet, and if you dillweeds haven’t cracked this thing yet, then sitting back here staring at it isn’t going to make it happen. Do your job.” This she directs at Steve, who has the nerve to frown at her like she’s not making sense.

“Buckley,” he says, squinting at her the way he used to squint at the blackboard in Clicker’s class, “what the hell are you talking about?”

It’s Robin’s turn to stare at him like he’s not making any sense. Because he’s not.

“Your job?” she tries, after a moment. “I mean, I didn’t think you wore that outfit just because you liked the way it looked, but -”

“Hey,” Henderson interrupts, with growing excitement. “Forget about the job for a second. Can you understand what the tape is saying?”

And now Robin gets to stare at him like he’s not making any sense. Because neither of them are.

“I’m not solving your stupid puzzle for you,” she says, at last.

“Not the message, okay! Just the words. Do you understand the words that are coming out of that tape.” Henderson says it like he’s explaining a particularly simple concept to a particularly stupid child. “Do you recognise them.”

Robin glances over at Steve, but sees no help coming from that quarter. “…yes? Is this some kind of trick question?”

“That’s cool,” Steve says, breaking into a grin, like everything makes sense now. “Hey, Buckley, you’ve been holding out on us. You never said you could speak Russian.”

“What? I don’t -” Robin starts, and then sees what she’d seen but hadn’t taken in: the notebooks strewn across the card table, the open dictionary, the scribbled notes… “Wait, this is Russian?”

Henderson nods. Steve nods. Robin looks at the tape player. Now that she’s listening for it, she can tell they’re right. The words spilling out of it definitely aren’t English – the syntax and pronunciation are all wrong. But the message, nonsensical though it is, is coming through loud and clear.

“…huh,” she says, putting the tape player back on the table. “Must be similar enough to – Spanish, I guess.”

Henderson’s giving her some kind of eyeball. “Russian and Spanish are nothing alike,” he informs her imperiously, like he’s the polyglot here. And then his eyes go wide. “Steve. Robin Buckley – wasn’t she on Nancy’s list?”

“Whoa, whoa,” Robin asks. “What list?”

The bell at the front counter dings four or five times in quick succession. Steve huffs out a sigh, and yells, “Coming!”, pushing himself up out of his seat. Robin follows hard on his heels.

“No way. No. You are not getting out of this that easily – Harrington! What list!”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

86, baby! [E. M]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word count: 4.1K

Summary: Eddie finally graduates

A/N: FUCK CANON, everyone here is perfectly fine. And Robin and Nancy are probably in the same year as Eddie but ignore that, it's our boy's time.

Warnings: just some vol 2 spoilers and mention of sex

When you entered the school auditorium, most of the students and family were already there, so you panicked at the thought that you would not have a place, but this feeling dissipated when you heard Dustin calling your name. Taking up almost the entire row were Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Lucas, Max, Eleven, Mike, Will, the guys from the band, and of course Mr. Munson.

"I've arrived late?" you asked, taking your place between Wayne and the curly-haired boy, placing the bouquet of flowers you brought on your lap.

"You're just in time, it's about to start," Dustin replied, slightly excited. He was still hurt (as were most) but honestly, the pain was insignificant against what you had done: you had beaten Vecna. The bastard was finally dead thanks to teamwork and the entire town of Hawkins had witnessed the pitched battle. There was no way that they wouldn’t believe that you and your friends were innocent of the murders because the monster was in charge of speaking mentally with all the inhabitants to presume that he had been in charge of these acts. And come on, a bunch of teenagers playing D&D doesn't have the ability to summon such a powerful thing. Maybe a 'deal with the devil' that everyone presumed was believable, but not this. You had almost threatened the US government with burning the offices to the ground if they didn't clear your boyfriend's name. They agreed through Hopper's connections, and within weeks Eddie was struck off the fugitive list. You had distanced yourself from legal problems, but you knew that the trial of public opinion was continuing and proof of that was the bad looks you received when you were there.

From your spot you looked up at Eddie and smiled to find his hair messed up under his graduation cap. He was wearing a soft green toga and you could almost swear he was bouncing his foot up and down nervously. You knew how long he had waited for this moment and you also knew how much effort it had cost him, so after all that madness you had been through it felt good to have that victory.

The event began with the principal giving a speech, a student taking the stage to give another speech, and a couple of pieces of music by the band the high school had hired. The whole time I was whispering to Dustin about anything funny and it wasn't until it was time to hand out the diplomas that you kept quiet. They were a long way from getting to M, but you still stayed on the edge of your seat so you could watch the moment he walked onstage. As the students passed, the audience gave couple applause and when they finally named the first person of the last names with M, you made sure that Jonathan had his camera ready.

"Munson, Edward" they finally said and you started clapping. But what was your surprise to hear silence in most of the auditorium. Nobody was applauding him.

There was a moment of extremely awkward silence where you felt like you were short of breath. But that only appears for a few seconds.

"You did it, man!" Garreth yelled from his spot and you felt your eyes glaze over as the entire row of your friends began to clap fervently. Steve even whistled and the cheers could be heard all over the place. Eddie couldn't be happier to see a whole line of people applauding him and when his eyes landed on you, he felt like he might cry.

"Murderer!" someone yelled from behind and you felt your blood boil all over your body. In a way you had expected it, since Jason had taken it upon himself to promote these stupid ideas that Eddie was a monster, but he never stopped hurting. It didn't hurt you, but it hurt you for thinking it was going to hurt him. You turned to look for the owner of the scream and without remorse you raised your middle finger, hearing a couple of people let out a scandalous sound.

"Please refrain from any kind of scuffle in this room or you will be expelled," said the master of ceremonies, obviously referring to you making an obscene sign and not the person who had just yelled at your boyfriend. You turned to look at him and he was already walking down the stairs, his expression a little less happy than his thanks to the insult. So you got up from your spot so I could see you better.

"Munson!" you yelled, gaining everyone's attention. He watched as you formed a flirtatious smile on your lips "I love you!" you told him, like it was just the two of you, and he giggled as he blushed violently. You and your friends clapped again and the master of ceremonies asked for silence so that the next person could go up for their diploma. When he returned to his place, he swiveled in his chair to face you, still grinning broadly.

"I love you more" he gestured, blowing you a kiss afterward. The rest of the ceremony you kept quiet, feeling the disapproving looks of most and when it was over Eddie didn't even bother to come over to have his group photo taken, but went straight to you.

He surprised you when he grabbed you around the waist and lifted you off the floor, kissing you softly as he spun you around.

"Son," Wayne said to get his attention and Eddie practically threw himself into his arms. His uncle was holding back tears, but you and Eddie couldn't.

You saw the man whisper several things in his ear as he squeezed it tight, quite an emotional scene to watch.

"You came," Eddie said once he broke away, looking at the group of people behind you.

"Of course we were going to come," Robin said, reaching out to hug him too. Just like her, most of them hugged your boyfriend with joy and when they finished you gave him the bouquet of flowers.

"They are for me?" he asked excitedly and you reached out to kiss him on the cheek.

"Pretty flowers for a pretty boy," you complimented, making him smile.

"A picture, guys," Jonathan muttered, letting go of Nancy's hand and moving closer to point the camera at you. Eddie lifted the diploma with one hand and used the other to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. The flowers were held with the inside of the elbow "One more" he asked. Eddie handed the stuff to Dustin and you gasped when you felt him pull you back into his arms to kiss you on the lips. Some strands of his hair fell on your skin and the tassel of the mortarboard also, but nothing hindered the vision of your lips together and the smile that he had on his face.

"You have it?" Eddie asked Jonathan and he nodded.

"They’re so cute" exclaimed Robin next to Steve, without you being able to hear her.

"They’re disgusting"

"Don't be jealous" she teased, hearing him laugh too.

"Y/N" Wayne called you. Eddie reluctantly let you go and left with the band members, who hadn't stopped congratulating him.

"Tell me"

"I want to celebrate Eddie in our trailer and I wanted to know if your friends would like to come. You know he likes pizza so I thought I'd buy some for you to eat"

"That's great! Of course they'll want to go, I'll tell them right now"

"I wanted it to be a surprise" he interrupted you, a bit shy. The man was serious, but you knew he had a good heart. From there the boy had learned "Maybe you can tell them and while we have things ready you can entertain Eddie with something else, what do you say?" he asked and you nodded with a smile.

"I'll take him out for ice cream or something. It won't be hard to distract him" you exclaimed amused. You really had another kind of distraction in mind, but his uncle didn't have to know that.

"I didn't know Eddie had so many friends," he said, looking at all the people who were with him. It sounded like a nostalgic comment that could turn into joy. You could see in his face that he was calm knowing that there were so many people supporting his nephew and most importantly of him, that he was surrounded by so much love.

"Eddie is an exceptional boy, Wayne. No matter what stupid people say, we know who he really is."

"I'm glad you're his girlfriend" he confessed "Since you've been with him, he has changed a lot. He looks happier. And you are a good girl and if one day you decide you will be a great wife and mother"

"We just need Eddie to buy me the ring and I'll be happy to be a Munson" you exclaimed, and it was all true. If you thought about marriage, you couldn't see yourself with someone other than him "I'll go with the boys to spread the news, and then we'll leave" you informed and he nodded pleased.

As you approached again you saw Eddie telling a story and waving his hands exaggeratedly, while the others watched him intently. And watching it made you feel good about being part of that wonderful group of freaks.

You were not lying when you said that it would be easy to distract Eddie, because at that moment he was with you riding him in the back seat of the car, with many things in mind except the suspicion of a surprise party.

"Y/N" he moaned softly, feeling you grind against his cock. One of his hands squeezed your tit clad in the fabric of a wireless bra and his lips attacked your shoulder, tasting the sweat on your skin.

You had to admit that the distraction had been beneficial to you, for you hadn't had a moment alone for quite some time and were eager for that kind of intimacy. It was a good scene; Eddie's eyes were closed and he was letting out ragged moans, while you were breathing hard from the effort of climbing up and down on him. Luckily (or unfortunately?) there was no one to witness it, as you had parked in a lonely part of the forest and things had escalated faster than you thought.

His hands went to your hips and squeezed you there, marking the rings on his fingers on your bare skin. You knew that this was a sign that he was about to come and you let him guide you at his own pace, allowing you to relax so you could bring yourself to your orgasm. You two broke up almost at the same time and the sounds that Eddie made sent a chill down your spine.

"You know…" he started, breathing loudly down your neck "my idea of ​​the first thing I wanted to do after graduating wasn't exactly this, but I'm not complaining either" he teased, making you giggle.

"You looked hot in a toga, I couldn't help it" you replied in the same way, letting yourself fall to the side of the seat. It was going to take you a while to recover, but after the sweat dried up a bit, he handed you the dress so you could put it on. He also pulled up his underwear after throwing the condom in a bag so he could get dressed. He looked very handsome in the clothes he had chosen; a Motörhead t-shirt, new jeans, and somewhere in the van was the formal jacket he was wearing. You loved the way he always kept his metalhead style.

When you tidied up a bit of the mess Eddie had made of you, you leaned into his chest and let him hold you.

"I finally did it," he said suddenly, resting his chin on your head, "I made it out of high school."

"I never doubted you would," you murmured happily, pressing yourself closer to him and listening to the sound of his heartbeat. Now it was slow and steady and reassuring.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me, Y/N" he exclaimed and you got up from your seat to look into his eyes.

"What do you mean, babe?"

"For your support as a girlfriend", he explained to you "All those times you helped me study, your words of encouragement, the times you denied me kisses until I finished my homework" he listed and you laughed at the last thing "Everyone has I've said that I'm an idiot and I'll never get anywhere, but at least now I have the hope of getting into a university or getting a decent job. I know that my emotion probably sounds silly because you graduated a year ago and it wasn't hard for you because you're super smart..." there he was, rambling "and even maybe for you it's not that important, but I feel very happy to have achieved it and to have you in my life”

“Of course it's important to me, Eddie,” you said with a frown, offended that he dared to think otherwise “Everything you do is important to me. And I feel very proud of you, do you understand?

“Don't say that,” he murmured, pursing his lips. Did you say something wrong? But your fear dissipated when he spoke again "My uncle told me that and I started to cry" after that you smiled tenderly and forced him to look at you holding his chin.

“We are both proud of you, Eddie” you affirmed, while he looked at you with those doe eyes “And I am not only for this but for everything. For how you saved us in the Upside down, for being so amazing, for not being afraid to show who you are. There are many things about you that make me feel proud to have a boyfriend like you”

"Y/N, shut up already," he ordered gently, holding back tears. Lately he was very sentimental, but it didn't bother you at all, and in a certain way you understood him, so you raised your head a little to reach his lips and give him a kiss to reassure him, one softer and less passionate than the previous ones.

“I love you so much. You better never forget”

"The whole town knows how much you love me" he laughed, referring to the small number that was in the event.

"I had to fix that future memory somehow" you joked, but there was something bothering him and you could see it in his eyes.

“People will always see me as a monster and I hate having to implicate you in that. I don't want people to bother you because of me”

“I don't give a fuck what people in this town think. You and I know the truth and whoever dares to question it, I'm going to put a bullet in their butt so they can call us murderers with a valid motive”

“Since when did you become so bloodthirsty?” he laughed, looking at you with feigned fear. He loved that you were so willing to take care of him and defend him.

“Since we had to face that cheap and tacky copy of Freddy Krueger” you answered, wrinkling your nose at the memory “But seriously, don't worry about me and I don't want to hear you say that people are bothering me because of you. People annoy us because they are idiots with nothing to do” you snorted with a firm tone. Eddie nodded at that, feeling a little calmer. You went back to lean on his chest and then you were silent for a while, until a smile formed on your face "In other news, your uncle told me something very interesting"

"What?"

"He said we two should get married"

"What?!" he yelled. Honestly you had taken him by surprise and his reaction made you laugh “Why? You are pregnant?"

"Jeez, no!" you answered, while he felt his soul returning to his body “Well, he didn't say that exactly, but he said that he would like to see his nephew marry a girl like me. Only if we wanted, of course."

"And you want?" he asked. He didn't sound scared, angry, or anything. Just curious.

You looked up again and stared at him for a while, pretending to think about your answer, but obviously with butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the very thought. You and Eddie could maybe end up being just young love, but something in you told you that it wouldn't be like that; that you really had a future with that boy.

"Could be" you ended up replying, showing him a mischievous smile "I need to think about it because you snore a lot"

"You talk when you're asleep and I'm not complaining!" he defended himself “You say weird and crazy things, you scare me. You once said you were going to cut my throat."

"Who said I was asleep?" you asked raising an eyebrow and he widened his eyes as he tried to get away from you. But you didn't let him, because you kissed him again in the middle of a smile "You probably made me angry that day and you deserved it"

“You have a mind as twisted as your face is beautiful, you know that?” he answered and you knew he had you on the hook. You took the opportunity to look surreptitiously at your watch and noticed that an hour had already passed, just the time that Mr. Munson had asked you for the preparations.

“All these jokes aside, what do you say we go to your house? I'm a little hungry” you complained, pouting which Eddie then kissed.

“Only if we order pizza,” he said and you resisted the urge to laugh. His uncle knew him so well and you already wanted to see his face when he realized what he had planned.

“Deal” you replied. He carefully helped you back into the passenger seat and you buckled yourself in, his watchful gaze on you at all times. "What's up?" you asked, seeing that he didn't start and just kept his eyes on you. You liked the way he saw you, so sweet and loving. He couldn't fake that, even if he wanted to.

"I just realized that I love you more than I thought" he expressed, taking you by surprise and painting a blush on your cheeks. Eddie had this habit, saying the cheesiest things to you without warning "Because you just confessed that you have plans to kill me and I still find the idea of ​​marrying you attractive"

"You're a fool" you laughed, slapping him without any force. Eddie barked out a laugh and started the van, ready to drive off into what he thought would just be another afternoon of laziness and junk food, but the thought of you being his partner for life never left his mind.

As you’d expect, Eddie put on the happiest face when you got into the trailer, even if your friends had been clumsy enough to be fighting each other over where to hide to surprise him.

There were boxes of pizza, also a cake, as well as beers (soda for the kids, clearly), and a big sign that said 'Congrats Eddie!' You didn't think so many people could fit in the place and yet there they were.

During the afternoon you spent listening to music, eating, drinking, and chatting with each other, causing the biggest ruckus the Munson trailer had ever witnessed.

"Let's see who drinks the beer the fastest!" you heard one of the kids say at some point and when you came back to the living room you found Steve and Eddie quickly drinking the contents of the can. They were idiots who in a few hours were going to fall drunk, but you were going to let it go just because they were both happy.

Even the shyest people in the group had decided to play or chat or whatever was going on at the moment and that was a good sign. You promised Jonathan to pay him a good amount for the film and for his work when you asked him to capture the best moments in the meeting so you could put them in an album later.

Somehow you even settled in front of the TV and managed to watch a VHS of a horror movie that Robin and Steve had accidentally brought home from work.

When the sun began to hide some of the people were leaving the place and by night only Eddie, his uncle, and you were left.

"You two plotted against me," Eddie accused, pointing at you two from the couch. He was tipsy, which made him more dramatic than usual.

"What do you mean?"

"You distracted me so they could prepare the party, now I understand" he exclaimed. Apparently, the alcohol made his neurons connect and that was the funniest thing for you. You just hoped he didn't mention anything about you two having sex in the car.

"And did you at least have fun?" you laughed, while you collected the garbage in a big black bag. Wayne was grabbing his keys and jacket to go to work.

"Very much!" he hiccupped from his place "That dance the school organizes is pure shit, even if we had gone, I wouldn't have had such a good time"

"I have to go, Eddie" interrupted his uncle, who wasn't paying attention to the boy's words because he was minding his own business "Please don't drink anymore, do you understand?" 

"Can Y/N stay?" he asked, like a kid asking permission to have a sleepover with his kindergarten friends. Wayne saw you waiting for some signal and you nodded with a smile, since you planned to stay to take care of the boy anyway.

"She can, but go to bed early and lock the door," he stated and Eddie nodded with a smile. The man walked over to give her a quick hug before leaving.

"I love you, Uncle Wayne," Eddie slurred. His uncle smiled at him.

“Me too, Ed” he replied with a smile as he ruffled his nephew's hair. He turned to you to exchange a few words, as well as to ask you to make sure Eddie didn't overdo it, and after you nodded to all the care, he calmly left for work.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yes?"

"You give me a kiss?" he exclaimed. When Eddie was drunk, all he wanted was for you to kiss him. And when he was high too. And well, even sober that was his only thought. 

You laughed and after leaving the garbage bag on the floor you sat on his lap to give him what he wanted, feeling how he sighed under you. You weren't a fan of beer, but you liked the way it tasted on Eddie's lips.

"Let me finish packing things up and I'm all yours, okay?"

"No" he complained wrapping his arm more firmly around your waist "We can do that tomorrow… stay here with me"

“It will only be a second”

"Please," he insisted, with those puppy dog ​​eyes under his pretty long lashes. You gave up without much thought and let him catch your lips again. The kiss was gentle, with no apparent intention of getting to something else.

You continued kissing for a couple of minutes; sweet and loving caresses. Eddie liked being with you like this because it made him feel like he had some security in his life. If he had a bad day, you were there, but also if his day had been great you ended up making it perfect.

"You are sleepy, my love?" you asked, noticing his kisses getting lazier. He nodded against your lips, refusing to part even slightly. "Let's go to bed, okay?" you suggested, while you got up from your place and took his hand to guide him. Once in the room he took off his clothes and left them lying on the floor, leaving only his boxer shorts. You chose a shirt from his closet and put it on as pajamas, knowing that it was common for it to be cold at night.

“Y/N”

"Mhm?"

"Is it really that annoying when I snore?" he asked, his voice muffled by the pillow. It was obvious that such concern could only be the fault of alcohol.

“It's not, love. I was only fooling"

"Oh... good," he replied, looking satisfied enough. You moved closer to hug him and he buried his face in your chest, smelling his own cologne on the shirt you were wearing, while one hand planted itself firmly on your thigh.

He didn't take more than a couple of minutes to fall asleep and you joined him shortly after leaving a sweet kiss on his forehead that even in his dreams Eddie could feel.

TAG LIST: @sweetdayme4427 @smol-book-nerd

[tinyyoungblood]

hi!! adore your work love. could you maybe do smth where stark!reader has to get her wisdom teeth out but HATES the dentist so she brings her boyf peter and her dad w her?? and then when they get home the avengers are all waiting with like comical amounts of flowers and stuffed animals and then reader says some funny shiii and thor thinks she’s like dying lol. idk if that made sense but i’m getting my wisdom teeth out soon and i’m scared😭 thank u so so much love u babe

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: tysm lovely :,) i rushed through this like my life depended on it, but i hope i’m not too late. either way, i hope you’re okay! it’s frightening but those bad boys gotta go because we don’t need that kind of energy in our lives. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

wisdom teeth? more like wisdoom

y/n has to get her wisdom teeth removed and it’s the singular most dreadful thing she’s ever had to do, which says a lot because her dad is tony richling stark

doing dreadful things she doesn’t want to do but still somehow end up doing just because she can is a personality trait at this point

no one really makes a big deal out of it since ~death~ is part of their job description, but y/n is terrified

and when a stark is terrified the only thing that will keep them one step from insanity is researching the hell out of it

that information will be info dumped into every conversation for the next few weeks leading up to the appointment

“y/n you need anything from the store?” "no thanks, did you know the side effects of getting your wisdom teeth out include ✨sudden death or blood clots✨ tho” “……..i have a coupon?”

the day of the appointment, peter comes along and literally doesn’t let go of y/n’s hand. he keeps touching her to let her know that he’s there and it’s so. adorable

he would rest his hand on her knee, gently stroke her back while holding her, or just play with her hair

happy drops them off and he’s too Cool™ for emotions but he knows y/n’s a wreck, so he just fist bumps her with a single nod and she almost breaks down bc it’s really affectionate

y/n is sitting in the dentist chair and genuinely nothing is happening yet, but she’s squeezing peter’s hand like it’s a sponge

peter might have a high pain tolerance but he’s in pain pain and he prays that his hand won’t just explode on him

the dentist notices how peter tries to keep it together and chuckles

“you okay there, son?” “yea it’s fine, had a better time when a building fell on me tho haha” “pardon?” “oh i mean i didn’t have a good time, i just had a better time”

because y/n is running Anxious Town™, the dentist gives her a sedative to help her relax 

plus, an injection of local anaesthetic to numb the tooth and surrounding area

she doesn’t feel anything and it’s GREAT

the procedure is quicker than expected and now the real fun begins

she tries to walk but she falls down so peter scoops her up bridal style and happy stays glued at her side

y/n doesn’t mind although she literally doesn’t recognise them and they’re practically strangers to her

but girly sees an opportunity and tries to flirt with peter bc why wouldn’t she

“you’re pretty” *blushes* “why thanks” “you should let your girlfriend know” “i should let her know i’m pretty?” “so you do have a gf? :(” “yea it’s you” “:)”

they stop for gas and peter goes in to get some water for y/n, and in her infinite wisdom, she decides it’s burger time

her mouth is completely numb and she’s practically leaving a trail of drool behind her, but she’d kill for a burger right now

so she wobbles around aimlessly for an hour on some random parking lot as if the ground might just magically open up like a rabbit hole and lead her to five guys

she’s going places. not back to the car. definitely not five guys. they’re closed. but places

peter finally finds her and he’s drenched from head to toe in sweat. he doEsn’T wAnt tO tALk abOut iT tho so she lets him take her to subway instead

normally, she would know that peter’s usual subway order is bread-lettuce-jalapeño

but in her drugged-up state, it had simply slipped her mind so now she’s staring at him like he’d just murdered someone right in front of her

“that- that’s your order?? no meat or anything just bread, lettuce, and a little spice?”

meanwhile at the compound, sam and steve are ordering everyone around bc they want to decorate this place before y/n gets home to surprise her

they take it very seriously too. they’ve watched like one HGTV show and said it’s our time

they finally get home and tony gives y/n a big hug, asking her what took so long

happy tells him that she was keen on getting burgers bc apparently someone has taught her that stressful times call for ~cheeseburgers~

he proceeds to look at tony with a pointed look

tony just shrugs and goes “she was a problem child. we don’t mention her dark past”

she’s swaying on the spot and keeps grinning like a fool and thor just stares at her weirdly before elbowing bruce and whispering loudly,

“what’s wrong with her? is she dying? should i start collecting leaves, i know this remedy—"

no one can tell if y/n is just happy to see the newly decorated home or if she’s just delighted to see everyone but then she goes around hugging the entire team

she doesn’t even acknowledge the sky-high pile of teddy bears and flowers everywhere bc she’s just squeezing everybody

y/n is so high, she just starts to spill all of her feelings about everyone and they’re already so overwhelmed by the hug chain they can’t take this too

“wanda i just want you to know that you’re like my big sister and you’re always taking care of me and i know you and vision are just going to make such good parents one day”

“bucky you absolute PRICK, you FIEND, you’re the best chess player ever and that’ll never change and i wouldn’t be good without you, i hate to say it but you deserve happiness even after you made me lose five times in a row yesterday”

“dad, you’re so strong and smart, even though we’re like never on the same page, you’re always along for the ride, i want to be like you when i grow up, i swear i’m gonna try to be as good to the avengers as you were to us” “aww- wait makes you think i'll be the first to die“

“nat you’re such a bitch about your protein shakes but you’re my best friend and i wouldn’t have it any other way, you can try out as many make up looks on me as you want”

“bruce, brucey, i would live with you in your lab for the rest of my days if i had to, whenever you ask me to hand you stuff i feel useful and important”

“laura’s way out of your league clint i have no idea how the fuck you got her but don’t lose her and i want to be your next child’s godmother”

“steve…we’re your family now. we’re always gonna be your family now. okay?”

“loki you’re not fooling anyone with your attitude, we all know you’re part of the family, you were just misunderstood and messed up bc of your dad–FUCK him by the way–but i realised everyone deserves as many chances as they need because of you”

“sam i would genuinely kill anyone who wronged you, even if they cut you in line at the grocery store, i would knife them no hesitation”

“thor, you poor golden retriever have been through so much, on my way here i made a wish on an eyelash for you bc you deserve better, your postcards always make my day, love you”

she mumbles something to peter that no one else can hear but he blushes and chokes back a sob

y/n orders hot soup and bucky brings it to her but before he even has time to react peter drops everything and ZOOMS across the room in .3 seconds

he barrels into bucky so hard they both go flying, but peter just smoothly rolls out of it and onto his feet like some kind of super ninja

“DUDE WHAT THE HELL” “😠 y/n is not supposed to drink hot liquids 😠”

all of this happens in mere seconds but sam has filmed it all and now slow mo clips go viral online of some mysterious kid knocking over the winter soldier

y/n’s a little in and out after that, but when she fully regains consciousness, she’s on a pile of blankets, surrounded by the team on the floor <3

* * *

let me know if this is actually comforting lmao stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[undinegeist]

that’s what friends do

-xx-

“Y/N!!!”

“Up here!”

He climbs the ladder to the loft. “I’M GETTING MARRIED!”

I can only laugh. “You’re joking!”

“NO! I’m going to marry Chrissie.”

“What about Nancy?” I can imagine the row; he jumps on to the bed, bouncing.

“Nancy doesn’t want to marry.”

“And you do?”

“No…but I’m not really getting married. Chrissie’s getting me some drugs and we’ll go to the courthouse, it’s for her visa or whatever.”

“Right! So it’s a transactional engagement.”

“Aren’t they all?” He says cynically, only a second before he laughs, throwing himself across my legs. “Will you come with me?”

“To do what, hold your train?” I run my fingers through his hair, spiking it further.

“I need witnesses. I’ve already got Johnny, Nancy would probably kill me even if she doesn’t want me…plus, Viv’s getting us a party bus there…”

“That’s as close as you’re gonna get to a honeymoon.”

“Yeah…I don’t care, anyway. My mum’s pissed; that only makes it better.”

“Always does.”

He laughs, reaching to wind my hair around his finger. “Yeah…”

“I’ll come.”

“Thanks.” He closes his eyes and falls asleep, just like that.

-

“Is my tie crooked enough?” He’s fiddling with it in the mirror, over a shirt we spent a few centuries distressing.

“No; let me do it.” I move it further down, untie it slightly. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, perfect, I love you. Listen…what do you think of popping off to Paris? Chrissie’s going for a couple of weeks to stay with some people, try out a band…since we’ll be married, I figured I might come too.”

“Does that make me your lover or your child?”

“Whatever you want! Isn’t that we always say? So long as I can still fuck you.”

“If there comes a day you can’t fuck me, we’ll both be dead.”

Sid laughs. “Yeah, probably. What do you think of consummating marriage with me tonight? I think Steve’s gonna do it for Chrissie in my place…you know how it is.”

“Wish I didn’t.”

“How come?”

“I don’t want you getting arrested for punching Kent in the face again.”

“That’s inevitable though; he’s too punchable.”

“Did Nancy teach you that word?”

“Yeah…how did you know?”

“She says it all the time, I’ve yet to hear Nancy speak of someone she wouldn’t like to punch…which fair enough, most people deserve it. Promise me something, though…”

“What?”

“That whatever happens, you’ll do your best not to get taken in…I’m running out of things to hock.”

“You could just leave me there, you know? You don’t own me anything.”

I roll my eyes. “As if I could sleep knowing you might be sharing Teddy space.”

“You do too much for me…”

“Probably. Who’s keeping score, though? We’re friends, that’s what friends do.”

[hangovercurse]

Until You Fall Asleep

After moving in with the crew to help cure your quarantine boredom, you find a new way to deal with your insomnia.

Request: “Could you please do a Colson fanfic where you're a friend of the gang and you move into their house for quarantine so you're not alone. Colson finds out you have terrible insomnia and starts staying up to keep you company and you gradually start sleeping in his bed because it's the only place you seem to actually sleep. You start to get really close through these late night chats, watching films, sharing stuff and opening up to each other... Friendship starts to develop into something else. I need some fluff to see me through these sleepless nights! 🙏😘 Thanks!”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 3487

Living with your best friends during a nationwide quarantine seemed like a good idea when you agreed to it, but after the 5th night of wandering the huge house late at night because you couldn’t sleep, you were starting to think you should’ve stayed where you were. At least at your own place, you didn’t have to worry about sneaking around so as not to wake anyone up.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice that you woke up earlier than everyone else in the house or went to sleep later. Or if they did, no one said anything.

Day five

Tonight hadn’t been going so well. You had tried showering, you hadn’t eaten for at least a few hours before trying to sleep, you turned your lavender diffuser on, you’d even tried yoga. Nothing helped, and you were left staring at your ceiling.

Frustrated and uncomfortable, you rolled out of your bed, sock clad feet pattering across your room and slowly pulling your door open. You made your way through the house and out to the pool, letting the cool night air wash over you. A deep breath fell from your lips as you began to pace around the deck, hoping to tire yourself out enough to sleep.

After a few minutes, you heard the sliding glass door open, looking up and finding Colson stepping out with a blunt in his hand. He smiled tiredly at you, “you’re up early.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what time is it?” You figured it was 4, maybe 5 am.

“Almost 7,” he looked concerned, “you okay?”

You were trying to figure out how you managed to stay up until 7 am without a wink of sleep, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep. It’s cool though. Why are you up?”

Colson lit the blunt as he spoke, “couldn’t sleep either.”

Day eight

You found yourself curled up on the couch, reading a book at 5:30 in the morning after hours of trying to fall asleep. You swore if you stayed in your room a second longer, you’d break something, so you snuck out to the TV room with the most boring book you could find.

“Do you ever sleep?” Colson’s voice surprised you, making you jump lightly in your seat. The man chuckled at your reaction, taking a seat next to you.

You pouted at his glee, “I could ask you the same thing.”

He shrugged, “sleep is for the weak.”

A sarcastic chuckle fell from your lips, “oh yeah, I feel so strong and cool right now.”

The man laughed with you, but soon turned serious, “serious though, are you good? Both nights this week I haven’t slept you’ve been awake, and I know you don’t take naps.”

You sighed, “it’s just insomnia, I’ve been dealing with it on and off for a couple years now. It’s not a big deal.”

He cocked his head in curiosity and worry, “how much sleep have you been getting?”

You ducked your head in embarrassment, “I slept for an hour at like 3, hopefully I’ll fall asleep again at some point tonight.”

Colson frowned, “can I help at all?”

A small smile fell upon your face, “sometimes talking helps, but honestly not much else. It’s not that big of a problem, though. I’ve been dealing with this for a while, I’m used to it.”

He looked shocked, “dude, you sleep for a few hours every night! That’s a problem. I don’t even know how you’re still alive.”

“Like you’ve never gone a couple days in a row without sleeping,” you said sarcastically.

“No! I go to sleep late as fuck, but I sleep eventually most nights. You’re on a whole different level.” His tone was slightly defensive, if not concerned, “do I need to get you some pills or something? I can do that.”

Your eyes went wide, “Jesus, Kells, no. I have enough to deal with, I don’t need another addiction on my hands too.”

He chuckled, “I’m just saying it might help. I’m assuming weed does nothing?”

You sighed sadly, “it did for a while, but I think my body got used to it. I just have to wait it out until I inevitably pass out.”

“Well, guess I’ll just bother you until you fall asleep.” He relaxed further into the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Colson, you really don’t have to-“

“You won’t let me get you drugs, so I’m gonna stay up with you. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled widely, knowing he would get his way.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”

Day Twelve

“You think that Captain America has the best character arc? Seriously?”

Your nightly chats with Colson had moved into his room after Baze was woken up by Colson’s loud laughter during a conversation about what type of dogs you’d both be. So, you were sat cross legged on his bed, facing each other in deep conversation.

The man tried to defend his stance to you, “okay, I know everyone loves Tony’s whole asshole to hero thing, but Captain America went from this goody two shoes to this badass criminal and he still got the girl in the end.”

You shook your head, “you’re just wrong in every way. I’m not even saying Iron Man had a better story, but literally every other character developed more than Steve. He wasn’t that badass in the end, and the fact that he went back to get the girl just proves he never really changed all that much. He was static.”

“So, you’re telling me, if we watched every single movie with Captain America in it, you wouldn’t be entertained?” He crossed his arms and leaned backwards, eyeing you challengingly.

You scoffed, “the movies are fine, I just think that Marvel has produced better superheroes with better plotlines.”

“New plan, we’re going to watch every marvel movie in order and then you can tell me that I’m right.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV across from his bed.

Rolling your eyes, you moved back to lean against the headrest, legs spread out in front of you, “you’re not right, but I’ll watch them just to see the look on your face when you realize you’re wrong.”

Colson flopped down on the bed next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you so that you were leaning into his side. A yawn escaped his mouth, “if you get tired, let me know.”

You giggled, “I’m always tired, I just can’t sleep. I won’t get offended if you fall asleep though.”

He pulled a face, “I’m not falling asleep.”

About an hour into the movie the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated differently. You chuckled to yourself once you realized he had fallen asleep, turning further into his chest, and allowing yourself to get more comfortable.

Somewhere between 4 and 5 am, you found your eyes finally closing of their own accord, unconsciousness washing over you.

Day 17

Since starting your marvel movie binges with Colson, you’d found yourself getting more sleep. You couldn’t tell if it was from the movies or from Colson, but either way something seemed to be working.

Tonight, however, even your new routine wouldn’t lull you to sleep. You tried every breathing exercise in the book, but nothing seemed to work. Colson had fallen asleep a while ago, his arm wrapped around you as per usual, so you couldn’t talk yourself to sleep.

So, you decided to take a stroll around the house, hoping the small form of physical activity would help. But in order to get out of bed, you would have to find a way out of Colson’s embrace without waking him up.

You slowly and gently grabbed his hand and removed it from your side, laying it on the bed next to you. Then, you sat up slowly, only to be pulled back into his chest, “where’re you going?”

His voice was deep and gravelly, sleepiness very evident. You responded with a whispered, “I can’t sleep, was gonna go walk around.”

He pulled you in closer to him, nuzzling his face into the crown of your head, “but you’re so warm.”

You chuckled, cuddling into the man, “fine, I’ll stay.” You tried to close your eyes and find sleep, but again, none came. Sighing, you accepted that you would be stuck in your current position, realizing there were worse things than being wrapped up in a beautiful boy’s arms.

Day 25

“I know aliens probably exist, but do you think they’d ever take one of us to study?”

Colson chuckled at your question, “like a human in general or, like, you and me?”

“Like you or me. Do you think we’re important enough to be studied?”

He squeezed your waist, “I think you are in desperate need of sleep.”

Laughing, you responded, “I’m serious! And I have been sleeping, thank you very much.”

“Okay, fine. I think if aliens ever came to Earth, they’d probably be more interested in, like, genius billionaires or really dumb people, like people from Florida.”

You slapped his arm, “don’t be mean to Florida.”

You could feel the vibrations from his laughter, making you giggle. “Fine, but my point is they wouldn’t be interested in us unless they’re really into music.”

“Darn,” you huffed.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “you want aliens to take you and study you?”

Balancing yourself on his chest, you lifted yourself up to look down at him, “yes! That would be so fucking cool.”

He shook his head with a laugh, “you’re crazy.”

“Think about it, who else would be able to say they got studied by aliens. And then you’d know that you were important to someone, even if it is just alien scientists.”

Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled you back down into him, your hands still resting on his chest, “I don’t need aliens to know I’m important.”

“Well not all of us can be ubertalented rock stars with millions of fans,” you joked, a teasing smile on your face.

You glanced up to find his eyes trained on you, holding a softer look in them than you had expected, “I didn’t mean that.”

It took a few moments for his words to get processed by your brain, but you immediately dismissed the thought that he could be talking about you specifically. More than likely he was referencing his family in general, which you could be included in.

Day 31

To celebrate a full month in quarantine, the guys had decided to throw an in-house only party, which just meant that everyone had an excuse to drink together more than normal. You were staying mostly sober, knowing that otherwise the boys would most likely break something, most likely themselves.

You watched from your place on the kitchen counter as Rook, Baze, Slim, Dre, Irv, Dub, and Colson played a round of King’s cup.

“Y/N, you have to drink,” Rook called from across the room, “it’s a six.”

“If there’s no women playing then you just skip that card, Rookie.” You called but took a sip from your cup anyways.

Colson whined, “this is boring.” You chuckled as he moved away from the table to come stand by you, the rest of the guys continuing without him. He leaned against the counter next to your dangling leg, letting you run your fingers through his blond hair, “parties are boring now, Y/N.”

You could tell that he was gone, the alcohol having almost full control of him. “When we get out of quarantine, we’ll throw the biggest party ever, Kells,” you said, letting your hand fall to rest on his shoulder. The man grasped your hand in his and moved it back up to the top of his head, silently begging for you to continue. He turned into a cat, practically purring as he leaned into you, “hey, Kells, you tired?”

He shook his head, “no, ‘m gonna stay up with you, remember?”

You laughed softly, “it’s okay, Kells. You should get some sleep; I’ll be okay for a night.”

His arms wrapped around your middle, head burying into your stomach, “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

“You gotta let me off this counter for that.” This was a side of Colson you rarely saw; the drunk, very cuddly version of Colson. Occasionally he’d cling on to you when he got really tired, but that was in the privacy of his room. Here he was hanging onto you in front of all his friends, though granted they were too drunk to notice anything unusual.

You hopped off the counter, taking on some of Colson’s body weight in order to get him up the stairs and to his room. Truthfully, you planned to leave him in his bed once you got him there, but he had other plans. As soon as you moved to walk away from the bed, he grabbed your arm sleepily, “why are you leaving?”

Running a hand along his jaw softly, you softly said, “I’m gonna go to my room.”

He whined, “you never sleep in your room, stay.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond to that, “Kells, you’re drunk, you need some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you.” His eyes were glazed over, making his pleading look even more appealing than normal.

Sighing, you muttered, “yes, you can. I’ll be right down the hall,” but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, hand still firmly around your wrist.

“No.”

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the bed next to him, “I’m only doing this because you need to go to sleep.” He hummed in response to that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into him, leaving no room for you to escape even if you tried.

Day 37

Nights with Colson had slowly turned into every moment with Colson. You woke up together, ate breakfast together, spent time together. You were rarely separated for long, not that either of you minded.

At some point, the line between friends and whatever lied next had gotten blurred, but not fully crossed. You and Colson were touchy and cuddly during the day as well as at night, and everyone in the house was starting to notice it.

Part of you just wanted to kiss him and see what happened, but you knew messing with a situation like this could go very wrong very fast. So, you just left it up to him to figure out where this thing would go, knowing he probably wouldn’t make the first move either.

But as you laid in his arms, listening to his midnight ramblings, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you took matters into your own hands. You watched his lips move as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to lean up and press your own against them. Of course, you would never actually do it, but it was nice to dream.

There was a lull in the conversation which was spent with your eyes dancing across each other’s face, trying to figure out what to say next. Suddenly, he blurted out, “can I get your advice on something?”

You nodded in response, a soft smile on your face. He continued, “this sounds so stupid, but there’s this girl I’ve been talking to recently and I can’t figure out if she ‘s into me or we’re just really good friends.”

You sat up slightly, perking an eyebrow up, “well what signs has she given you that she’s into you?” Your heart burned, hoping he was talking about you. It was a feeling that had been happening a lot recently whenever you were around him, which was almost all the time.

He sighed, “I mean, we talk like, all the time about everything. And I think she flirts with me, but I’m not completely sure if she’s flirting or she’s just being friendly.”

“Well, what signs say that she’s not into you?” You ask, biting your lip to hide the grin forming on your face.

Colson hesitated, “I mean, none, really. I’m just scared of messing up our friendship, you know?”

You nodded, “well, you’ll never know if you never ask her. I’m sure it’ll work out.”

He was quiet for a long time, clearly turning the advice over in his head, “I would but, with quarantine and everything, I just don’t think it’s the right time. We wouldn’t be able to actually, you know.”

Your heart fell, realizing that there was no possible way he was talking about you. It felt like every bone in your body turned to Jell-o at the realization, a lump forming in your throat. “Right, well, maybe you could invite her over to the house. Or do a cute facetime date or something.”

He nodded but stayed quiet. You fully sat up, swinging your legs off the bed. “Where are you going?” he asked softly.

Something inside of you was slowly crumbling, and you needed to get yourself out of his presence as soon as possible, “I just need to take a walk, I don’t think I’m tired enough to get any form of sleep.”

Colson let out a small “oh,” as you stood up and swiftly left the room, tears forming in your eyes.

You felt silly for letting yourself fall so easily and for thinking that he might have felt the same way. But you could’ve sworn there was something forming between you two.

And how had you never heard of this new girl? How long had that been going on?

So many thoughts swirled around in your head as you made your way downstairs and out to the empty pool deck, pacing the familiar space. You tried to convince yourself that your feelings weren’t as strong as they actually were so that this could somehow be easier, but you knew it wouldn’t work.

The sound of the door sliding open caught your attention, your eyes meeting those all too familiar blue ones. “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the house. You flashed him a fake smile with a nod. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I just-”

“No, no,” you cut him off, “I’m just restless right now, needed to get some energy out.”

He nodded, watching you cautiously, “I’m actually super tired, so I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you in a few?”

You nodded, knowing full well you had no intention of getting back into his bed, “yeah, goodnight.” You turned your head to the ground, studying the cement below your feet.

The door opened and shut, but when you looked back up, Colson was still standing outside, watching you. “I don’t know why I said that. There isn’t a girl in quarantine. Well, I mean, there is, but we wouldn’t not be able to see each other.”

Your head was spinning, trying to make sense of whatever he was saying. He kept talking, “I got nervous and chickened out and then you left and I felt like an idiot.” You looked up to him, confusion evident on your face as he continued on the borderline of rambling, “so I’m just gonna throw this out there and whatever happens, happens.”

You stared at him blankly, not fully processing his words or what was happening.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me? Or, like, whatever kind of date we can pull off here?”

Your eyes went wide in shock, the rollercoaster you had just been on emotionally twisting your mind. You didn’t speak for a few moments, making Colson nervous, but you finally got out a stuttered, “yes.”

He sighed in relief, “god I feel like such a teenager right now.”

You came back to your senses, narrowing your eyes at him, “do you realize the emotional turmoil you just put me through? I feel like I’m crazy!”

He chuckled, moving towards you, and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, I’m an asshole. But it was worth it, right?”

“I was literally rethinking my entire life out here,” you pouted, leaning into his touch.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, “look who’s all Mr. confident now.”

The vibrations of his laugh shook your own body, “well, you said yes. This would be a completely different story if you had said no. Then I would be the one rethinking my entire life.”

You smirked teasingly, “I could always change my mind.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, “shut up.” His lips met yours, one hand reaching up to softly hold your jaw. You melted into the kiss, your arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely.

You pulled away slowly, a smile spread on your face, “this almost makes not being able to sleep worth it.”

Tag list:

@bakerkells​ @elviablo​​ @iambashfulperson​ @sunflowerbebe107​ @crystalbaby12​ @stormrider505​ @ticketstomydaydreams​ @mvrylee @daddyavesxx​​ @pettyvxbes​ @prettydreamboy​

[heli0s-writes]

Clumsy

Summary: Serendipity, it’s the only way Steve can describe it. His ma was right: he’d always been slow.

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

A/N: Fluff with a tiny sprinkle of Steve angst because I love one sad boi. Written for @wkemeup​​‘s 4K Challenge like an entire year ago!! I’m so sorry, Kas!! The prompt was Bright Eyes’ “First Day of My Life”. 2.8k words.

It was supposed to rain.

Thunderclaps rolled in the distance all morning. Moisture hung heavy in the air and the earth smelled like wet already--- salty, thick, sweet. The app on his phone blinked gray clouds straight across the screen. Seventy-three degrees and a nine-five percent chance of precipitation. Winds NE 20 miles per hour.

But at 2:30 in the afternoon when Steve slides into the car, it’s clear and blue.

So he figures it’s coincidence and poor meteorology when the engine quietly rumbles to life. He fixes the collar of his shirt, checks for hotels around the midway point, and sends an uneasy look to the empty passenger seat.

Then, he makes his way to where you are.

-

The two-lane country road stretches on. Winding and curving, pitch-black and howling with wind and wildlife. Bugs splatter on the windshield and he mechanically sprays a bit of fluid, wiping them off, the squeaks giving his radio a bit of rhythm in all this late-night talk. It’ll be another half hour before he gets to the hotel and he’s still wrestling with himself if he should even break.

No reason to now. He can drive all night. No reason to other than his pride.

“So what is it?”

There’s an imprint in the seat. An outline of a warm body folding soft creases in the leather. Late night talk radio fizzles out, and he’s tired, so he can’t get too upset at his brain for seeing the shape even though it’s been months since anyone’s sat there.

He chances a look over, then quickly back ahead because sure—the sedan is small, but this tiny strip of pavement feels even smaller. Too right and he’ll careen into the woods, too left and if another car’s coming around the bend Steve would roll out alive, but he’d be the only one.

He looks again.

Legs folded. Bare feet. Ankles crossed on the dash. Casually sitting with one hand on your phone and the other one behind your head, face lit incandescent by the screen. It was the first time he’d been alone with you after New York; he remembers this.

You hadn’t even given a glance sideways at him, still fixed on the screen, thumb sliding up and focused on mission details in a perfect picture of indifference.

“Your whole thing. Mister Red-White-and-Broody, most eligible bachelor in all of America—which, by the way, is so far up your ass all fifty states might as well be coming out of your mouth—”

“Stop it.”

“Okay, Rogers.” A smirk. His last name slipping between your lips like military title. “Fine, you’re all gilded in the front, suffering in the back. So—” You turned finally, pulled your feet back and tucked them under your body, “What is it?”

Steve pretended to think, left hand clenching a fraction tighter on the wheel, feeling its strength beneath his grip. His face remained impassive and dedicated forward, turning the seconds in his head, counting down the appropriate time for his reply.

It was a game, certainly. Your assertion, your poise, hand propping up your head—all of it. Your entire being was a foil to one Steven Grant Rogers and he was strapped with you for half a week. Already the car ride was beginning to foreshadow what was quickly seeming to be a long assignment.

“It’s my job—”

“So weak.”

“I’m busy—”

“Are you even trying to lie?”

You were known to do this: lay out a path of questions that only gave your company the pretense of a genuine conversation. You’d lead them like a wrangler leading horses to water, knowing they wouldn’t drink, but giving them just enough time to stare at their own reflection in the pool before you’d yank the harness elsewhere.

It was always a short path, but what you lacked in subtlety you made up for with honesty.

Agitated, Steve snapped before he could rein himself back in.

“What are you, my psychologist?” Horse.

“You don’t have one. You are the only Avengers Tower resident who has run off every psychologist on Stark’s payroll. So--” a twist of your torso, your back pressed up against the door handle as you stared at the outline of his side profile. Wrangler.

The question dangled in front of his gritted teeth. The answer he’d known long ago was behind two perfect calcium rows, pressed up, trying to find its way through the cracks.

What’s your thing? We fought together. We live together. We suffered a cataclysmic event in the form of aliens together---so why doesn’t anybody know you?

You leaned forward, body tilting until it almost touched your former footrest. Your head sloped to find his face and when he flicked his eyes sharply to yours, Steve knew it wasn’t sharp enough.

“You don’t want to be vulnerable.”

You’d led him through the brief route of your inquisition and had seen all you cared to see. Your voice bounced off the window when you closed your eyes and turned away.

“Steve,” you sighed, mouth going to the side in a smile. “Vulnerability is clumsy, but it’s the only thing worth anything.”

He had thought: No, it isn’t. He’d spent too long being vulnerable already, and he couldn’t afford it again. Twenty years of a miserable half-life and seventy years of sleep and suddenly the world was new and different and strange. Coming back into his body was new and different and strange but it was the body that afforded him invulnerability.

Mostly, anyway.

Steve decided, then, at least he could make up for that lump of mortality—that lump of weakness—with performance.

So, he became the blacksmith to his feeble Brooklyn boy heart. Forged carbon steel, gold-plated, immaculately polished like his own shield at press conferences. Smoothed himself into a monumental display of impeccable posturing and hid the boy away where no one could reach him. Let him go back to sleep, too. Frozen in a time long passed, long forgotten.

He wasn’t Steve Rogers anymore because no one knew Steve Rogers anymore; it was the only way he could carry on. Didn’t you know?

No, he supposed, you didn’t.

On the ride back you surrendered yourself to the backseat, laying down in the most comfortable position the sedan would allow, and chatted his ear off the entire ride home. Called him Steve and looked at him through the rearview mirror. Eyes met eyes, and yours crinkled at the edges with some secret knowledge.

By the end of it, all he could think about was how he didn’t mind the conversation and that his first name even sounded a little nice coming out of your mouth.

You shimmer in the passenger side until your hair hangs a little longer. His brown leather jacket is around your shoulders. A stretch of your arms. A stretch of your lips. Months passed and Rogers befell the man you knew during the Manhattan Crisis while he became Steve.

Steve on missions and in the field—On your six, Steve! Keep up, old boy. Steve at the tower and Steve in the gym— don’t touch my weights, Steve, you’ll throw your back out.

Steve getting the door and pouring the whiskey and letting you wear his jacket when you were cold. Finding you across rooms at parties because there was an easiness to your presence that calmed the crowd. Shooting pool and watching movies. Up late and out late and laughing until the early hours.

He was Steve, your friend, because he finally allowed himself to have a friend.

You change. Shimmer again until your hair is pulled back from your swollen face. A hospital gown crinkled around your shoulders. Asleep, cold. Too close to death, too close to him. He couldn’t even sit by your bedside, only standing by the door, shuffling from one wall to the other and watched the monitors with a too-loud and static-filled brain.

He was hesitantly Steve when you stepped too close to him on the balcony nights later, hand precariously hovering over that fragile boy heart, finally pressing down on it, feeling his delicate pulse thawing and crawling towards you. Tipsy smile and you tasted like whiskey and easy joy.

The kiss was clumsy, like you’d said. Vulnerability threw him back to the 40’s, all gangly limbed and ill, his lungs malfunctioning, his breath smothered in his mouth. He stumbled, but the banister held him up.

You didn’t mind that his knees felt boneless. You chalked it up to too much drink, but the touch of your still-bruised cheek abruptly burned down his throat—warm and smooth and cataclysmic until he caught sight of the way you winced as his hand cupped your tender face. Steve stepped back, then, and apologized for what he said should have never happened.

There was a small quiver from your shoulder before you quietly went back inside.

He cursed himself on the balcony. Cursed letting it all happen in the first place. Captain Rogers watched your retreating steps, burying the spark and the fire. And the boy must have cried in his ice-block coffin when he buried him again, too.

“Don’t look at me like that.” God, he’s going crazy. Poor night-vision and an addled brain causing him to scold an empty seat. “You stopped talking to me.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens the way it does when you’re too deep in his head and he can’t get you out. Days without hearing from you smeared together in careful steps of a cagey dance. Comments always presented as half-truths—riddles he struggled to deconstruct. Breadcrumbs never leaving enough of a trail to lead him anywhere. He wants the harness back. Wants back your confident hand.

“You could have said something.” Steve scoffs, because you always had something to say. “Anything. You could have said anything. We were—friends.”

And hell, doesn’t that sound stupid out loud? Maybe it’s best that he’s got nothing but infinity beyond the sedan’s glaring brights and a million thoughts of unsaid words. It’s all useless, anyway. Best that he can get it all out now, talking to your ghost. It keeps all his thoughts in his head and keeps him from yelling every time he sees you not-looking, not-smiling, not-talking to him.

Steve flicks the wipers on again. Shuts off the radio. Shuts off the navigation. Takes the car off cruise-control to give himself something to do. He’ll stop overnight, after all.

Suddenly then, in the distance, two glowing eyes greet him steadily. Measured paces, in a firm and crisp trajectory, growing closer and closer. Glaring and vivid, beating the monotonous grind of nighttime out of him. His pinky moves, and his high beams flip to low beams, white giving way to yellow and the glistening road signs and tree-shadows in the distance slowly diminish.

Bleached spectral glaring of leaves and road signs soften ochre and brown, indigo dark. For a fleeting moment, even Steve’s enhanced eyes feel half-blind again as he readjusts to the pitch-black night barely lit. The car coming toward him does the same, highs blinking low and they pass each other in quiet understanding. In blind trust on the dark road, dependent on each other’s good faith to see it through.

He thinks of Sarah Rogers in a tiny Brooklyn kitchen, floral wallpaper yellowed and peeling behind her. One hand on an apron-clad hip, cooking interrupted by her son stumbling in dripping blood down his shirt, her other hand clenched around a wet kitchen rag.

“Steven Grant Rogers! Oh—wretched! What else can I say,” she’d sigh as she pressed it to his nose, “You do whatever you please, anyhow. You just put this on your face—and don’t think it’ll get you out of doing the dishes, either.”

“But—” he’d attempt.

She’d put up her hand, “Lord have mercy on any young woman that’ll have you. May she have your poor mother’s patient heart.”

His ma always called him slow. A dolt through and through. Quick to temper, but laborious to do much else. Common sense always took its sweet time-- took the long path home to get to Steve Rogers. In seventy-odd years, he hasn’t changed.

Better than coincidence and better than poor meteorology. Serendipity. It’s the only way he can describe it.

Like finding a crumpled up twenty in his pocket—or in his case, a five—enough then for a week’s worth of meals. Like having that nightmare— the one right before the plane crashes and instead of going down with it, he wakes up. Like expecting to drive five hours through a storm and stopping overnight, but instead it’s clear and blue as far as he can see.

The rush, the relief, the deafening joy that shuts everything else up and out.

Sarah Rogers was right: he’d always been slow.

So he careens back onto the highway from the service road, steadying his foot on the pedal and flies about fifteen miles faster than the speed limit says he should. The car is vibrating to a thrilled beat inside his chest. Steve can’t help smiling.

-

It was supposed to rain. All the way to the next mid-morning but the sky parts a brilliant orange sunrise and he nearly sprints to the door. He doesn’t wait for it to open all the way before he barrels in. A sliver of parting wood is enough, and Steve throws it wide with his enormous shoulders, kicking it shut firmly with his boot.

The imprint of your body on the couch is still warm—you, halfway across the room in alarm—real and even warmer when Steve gathers you into his arms. He’s been awake for over 24 hours, talking to himself, talking to your hallucination, so he apologizes when his teeth click against yours in a frantic kiss.

“Rogers--!”

You pull away, dazed, a little bit pissed off, but you cow the swirl of emotions into professionalism. “What are you—you’re not supposed to be here until late—did you drive through--”

“Steve,” he interrupts, “Steve.”

He’s so tired of the long road. Can’t stand another second of maneuvering in the dark down winding paths or broken streetlight avenues you’re not at the end of so he keeps his next phrase short: “I really like you.”

You raise your brow and brush the back of your knuckles over your lips, the light from the balcony streaming over your face. His hand tenderly brushes your cheek, the same one he touched all those months ago and you blink in surprise. Quick, calculating movements even as you lean gently into his touch.

“Steve…” you say slowly before your mouth pinches together in a poor attempt to hide the smirk threatening to surface. “You drove all night to… ask me to call you Steve.”

“Well,” he shrugs, “And the mission.”

“Right, the mission. The debrief didn’t mention that it required a lot of… kissing.”

“It came up recently; I haven’t adjusted the file yet.” He grins at your rolling eyes, your swollen lips peeling back to reveal a joyful display of teeth at his stubborn defiance.

“Took you long enough,” you mumble.

You place your hand over his chest, over his heart.

You kiss him and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush with embarrassment, but you’re not letting go, and he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning the ways you like to feel him there.

“Steve,” you breathe, and it paints him in the most galvanized care. “Steve,” you say again, and his eyes slip shut, like he’s being laid to rest. And maybe he is. Finally weary of lugging around all his armor, all his pretense.  

The boy emerges, thawing toward his name held sweetly in your mouth.

He fumbles with his awkward limbs—a newly birthed foal trying to find its footing—but you’re patient and enduring. He takes in his trembling body—knobby knees and gangly elbows. Inept gait still learning how to be. He takes the sights—white casting over the balcony. You, even brighter.

It was supposed to rain, but you link your fingers through his, leading him toward the open doors, smiling against a backdrop of sherbet swirls. He stumbles, but you’ve got him. A few short steps, just a few more, and Steve kisses you again in the sunbathed daybreak, resurrected and anew.

[86-babyy]

Pretty Boy.

Part Two.

This will be a two part kinktober story.

Dom!Eddie, Switch!Steve. Steve finds out he has a praise kink and Eddie toys with sadism.

There’s not much warning in this chapter. Nervous but over confident Steve, drug use and one amused Eddie who’s intrigued to see where it may lead.

“You’ll see it one day, Stevie. The true master piece that is Tim Curry.”

She fluttered the last of her words in a breathy tone, scooping a handful of videos into the return trolley. He would have rolled his eyes at the weird admiration she had for the actor but she had seemed so confident in her decision that he figured who was he to make her second guess. She had her favourite of actors and so did he— Boy, did he. But he wasn’t about to join her by rambling how Tom Cruise also made him second guess his train of thought, especially in Risky Business and not just for his acting.

“Hm. I see the appeal, I just—“

His words cut short along with their attention when the distinct bell chimed loud through the echos of the surprisingly empty store.

“Look. He’ll back me up. Bet you 10.”

Robin seemed to perk up from the challenge her hand pointed steady towards Eddie who seemed taken aback by the sudden outburst.

“But that’s a given. I mean, he wouldn’t be even into that so of course he’s going to be on your side.”

He waivers his hands about in a obvious gesture glancing towards Eddie who still stood unmoving as he traced a invisible line between himself and Robin with a perplexed expression twisting his brows together, eyes heavy in question as he tries to work the understandings of the situation before him. He could almost see his mind clicking over drive and he suddenly felt a pang of guilt for leaving Eddie so clueless.

“Right, Eddie. What do you think is better. Grease or Rocky Horror?”

Robins challenging eyes bored at Eddie’s from behind the counter and he watched as a curl of his lips lifted into the slyest of smirks.

“Well. I’ve never been one for romantic type.”

He brings his hands out front with a shrug of his shoulders in a what did I tell you stance and notices how Robins chooses to ignore it.

“But honestly, I can’t go past a man in suspenders, you know.”

Eddie turns his attention towards him, the crinkle of his eye in a wink as he draws the last of his sentence and he tries not to think to much into the gesture or how Eddie had said a man, not just specifically Tim Curry in Rocky Horror.

“See, Eddie gets it!”

Robin seemed almost too proud that her decision had also been confirmed by another as she beams from ear to ear. He sighs in heavy defeat, accepting of his fate at this point and waivers a head roll for extra extravagant.

“Alright, okay. I see the appeal but I’m still not letting it go that Grease is and always will be—“ He shifts his stance, a pointed finger in attempt to reach his point across. “One of the greatest.”

He feels weight to his shoulder when he traces the ring adorned hand that wrapped around the knuckle of his shoulder.

“It’s okay, it happens to the best of us, Harrington. Just be glad it hasn’t you.”

The way Eddie leans in close to express his concern makes his chest heave with the unmissable hiccup of his in take of air, which suddenly he’s aware has become thick around him. Eddie flashes a grin in Robins direction and she shakes her head at the wiggle of his eyebrows and he can’t help but feel he had missed something along the way.

Eddie pulls himself away from him and he momentarily finds himself chasing the contact before Eddie claps his hands in a bid for attention drawing his reaction as Eddie grinned that toothy smile, one that hinted a mischievous undertone.

“What’s the go this week, Harrington? Any up and comings that aren’t gag worthy.”

He motions Eddie over to the row towards the back reminding himself to question Robin later on the side glances he didn’t quite understand and directs Eddie as he follows behind.

“Not much has turned in lately but a classic never goes a miss.”

He oddly feels misplaced situated between the isles with Eddie, they had lost sight of Robin a few rows behind and he couldn’t quite seem to shake the feeling. Eddie hums quietly in response as he trails the lines of videos upon the shelf, aimlessly pulling a few to look over the covers before placing them back.

He watches on as he takes in the frame before him. Eddie wasn’t big. His shoulders broad but not in the sense of stocky, it was hard to follow any definition under the layers of jackets he wore but his thighs that shaped well beneath his jeans made up for what coxed his upper half. The rips across his knees showing the glimpse of skin. He hadn’t really took much notice of Eddie. I mean, in a general sense, sure. But as a whole. He never noticed the doodling of worn out pen on his hand from something he had drawn or how his hair seemed to flawlessly shift with his movements, the curls springing and bouncing back in perfect rings and it made him jealous slightly, that Eddie could have such texture to his mane without even trying.

“You’re starring, big boy.”

He adverts his eyes, far to quickly to pass off as subtle like he attempted too, as he looks on at Eddie who simply cocks a brow that same devious smile hinting behind.

“Uh, so— You picked one?”

He places a hand behind his neck, another failed attempt to look somewhat composed as he itched at the embarrassment creeping up.

Eddie holds up the familiar video, the one with the unmistakable faces and the bright red bubble writing

“Seriously?”

He would have followed it up with some smart ass remark along with it if he hadn’t been so caught off guard, unsure if he was joking or not but by the way Eddie shrugged his shoulders and the way his smile waivers slightly to a almost shy curl but he doesn’t dawn to far on it before Eddie speaks.

“Might as well show me what all the fuss is about.”

This time he doesn’t miss the hint. The question between his sentence and he simply takes the video from Eddie’s hands, ringing up the cost and reaching across the counter pulling at Eddie’s wrist until he’s satisfied with the placement. He shifts the edges of Eddie’s jacket up slightly and marking the back of his hand in inky blue.

He scribbles the lasts of his words, his grip momentarily tightens around Eddie’s wrist as he lifts his gaze towards Eddie dropping the pen back into the cylinder on the counter jammed in with the rest of the pens before he mirrors Eddie’s previous gesture with his own half hinted smile.

Eddie looks down at the printed words on the back of his hand, I finish at 9, marked with the faintest of a X beside it and watches as Eddie huffs a small laugh taking the video from beside him on the counter, giving him a once over before exiting the shop with a click of his tongue.

———

He tossed the tapes he’d previously had rewind into the trolley, the last of the videos for the day and as the last one dropped with a clunk he was thankful for the days end. Robin had finished about an hour ago but not before encouraging him to enjoy his date tonight.

———

She had openly expressed her excitement once Eddie had left the store.

“What the hell was that?”

“What are you talking about?”

Robin came bouncing from the back room bearing the obvious grin that only sparked trouble as she gestured towards the front door and himself.

“The movie— Writing on his hand.”

Robin gave a shake of her head like it was completely obvious what she was trying to convey but he hadn’t really caught on, sure, the writing on his hand may have been over the top considering he could have just told him but it was banter, that’s all it was. Eddie was naturally a flirty guy having absolutely no concept of personal space so he decided to entertain Eddie’s gesture by being equally as amorous. It was just playful banter, right?

“Come on, Robs. You can’t read too much into it, you know how Eddie is.”

He tries to flatten any suspicion Robin has, hoping his diminished tone throwing in a shrug of his shoulders as he grabs the box of unopened candy from the back room.

“Eddie, yes. I can understand but you, since when do you play into his antics?”

He could feel Robins suspicious glare through the wall as he heaved the box into his arms, steadying his movements as he braced himself to look at her. At this point he wasn’t too sure who he was trying to convince more, Robin or himself.

“You do it all the time. I distinctly remember you crawling up into his lap when he jokingly offered to keep you warm at the quarry.”

“Yes, but I’m as invasive as he is. What’s your excuse?”

He dropped the box below the counter on the opposite side, standing to face Robin who masked a look of satisfaction seemingly pleased with her question and if he wasn’t trying to play it cool so badly he would have shrunken up and crawled away by now. He didn’t really have a excuse besides being curious. Curious to see exactly how Eddie would react if he switched the charm onto the other man, come across equally as intriguing and flirty, see how Eddie would take it. For none other than curiosity purposes, obviously.

“Just seeing if the ole Harrington charm still works.”

It was the best he could come up with and he tried so hard to avoid the amusement he could see splayed across Robins face as he started to pluck each candy from the box and stack them in the swivel stand placed on the corner of the counter.

————

Ringing the last of the cash register through he wondered across the too quiet store, flipping the open sign to closed before shutting the doors for another night with a lock of the key.

8:45

He would make it. Eddie’s place wasn’t too far from here and as he rubbed his palms into the material of his jeans, ignoring the building nerves that suddenly had reared their head, trying the wipe the beading sweat that gathered he slid into the drivers side with every intention of starting the motor vehicle but found himself to consumed to actually move.

He had made it, barely. And now he stood on Eddie’s porch hands too shaky to even try to knock, he tried to push the gnawing doubts that reeled through his head, the unsteady thumping of his heart like a trapped canary within his chest and honestly he wasn’t sure why he was so god damn nervous. It was just a movie. He had come over to watch a movie with Eddie, it really was that simple. So why did he feel so small standing amongst the fog and dawn of the nights air under the porch light that he noticed flickered far too much and remained himself to tell Eddie to change it.

“Harrington..”

Eddie’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed along his chest leaning his weight on the frame of his front door. The voice draws through his mind like a melody and the way it’s spoken is far too salacious than what it should be.

“Y— Your light.”

Like an absolute idiot that is all he seems to muster out and he watches as Eddie pulls his attention from him to glance at the small globe flickering above his head, he hums in recognition his lips curling into small amusement as he pushes himself from the frame of his door to take a step back, widening the screen further as an invitation.

His hand reaches for the back of his neck, a new motion that he has taken to favour lately when he found his heart racing that little to fast.

He takes his first step forward not missing how his feet suddenly feels like weighted concrete as he steps through and past Eddie into the sparse of his lounge room. It was noticeably smaller than his own, there was no long hallways or rows of steps that dawned a staircase. The space was built in close proximity, each trinket and property hung around the walls brought character to each room and though there was no polished floors or plush carpet, no splayed out windows or open spaces— He felt more comfortable and grounded. It felt like a home.

Eddie’s shoulder bumped his and when he turned he noticed Eddie holding out a beer, doe eyes crinkled in a grin and he was thankful for the beverage as he pulled the can from his grasp, his fingers brushing Eddie’s in the process. He hadn’t even noticed Eddie had gone to get them too engrossed in soaking the atmosphere around him.

“You’re starting to give me a complex here, buddy.”

Eddie nudges him again as Eddie watches him take in his surroundings, he dips his head, starring aimlessly into the open can of his beer.

“No— I uh, sorry. It’s just.. Welcoming.”

He wasn’t sure if that was the right word and by the throaty laugh Eddie emitted maybe he had said the wrong thing.

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s homely. Holds a lot more comfort than mine. I like it.”

The last of his words are hushed but he doesn’t miss the tender drop of Eddie’s expression at his statement and Eddie simply nods silently in return before tugging on the arm of his jacket.

“Get comfortable I’ve got the movie set up.”

He takes the invitation with a little more urgency than expected, heaving his heavy jacket from his limbs, a satisfactory sigh escaping as his shoulders slumped forward. It hadn’t necessarily been a rough day, quite the opposite in-fact but the rid of clothing felt like a small weight off his shoulders, if only for a little while.

Tracing Eddie’s footsteps across the room he meets Eddie on the heavily decorated sofa. There’s a bowl of popcorn already centred in the middle of the coffee table and as he takes his seat he can’t help but smile and the small gesture of preparation, Eddie fumbles with the remote, arm out stretched as he harshly meshes the buttons with the pads of his fingers. There’s a crease between his brows that dimples slightly as he heaves his annoyance, his frame is curled forward in a desperate attempt to point the thing closer to the television and eyes pin pointed in a glare, he can’t help but think just how appealing he looks all riled up.

“God damn, son of a—“

The thudding clunk of the remote rebounding from the table top masked the lasts of his sentence as he drops a dopey smile his way. His lips lopsided in a half smile as he points a finger in his direction.

“I think the other remote is stuffed down that side. Wayne likes to fall asleep here sometimes and has a habit of burying the remote in the process.” Eddie’s laughs quietly. “Do you mind?”

He gives a shake of his head, turning his weight to shuffle slightly as he weaves his fingers down the side of the sofa cushions, hands inching across the seam as he dips his hands further.

Besides a few coins and built up dust balls he had came up short, still aimlessly fumbling when he peeked over his shoulder back at the other man.

“It’s not here, man.”

“Here..”

Eddie reaches across as he removes his hand from the sofas grasp watching as Eddie reaches across his lap, shoving his own hand down between the cushions. He can feel Eddie’s chest pressed against his thighs, the warmth is seeping through from his to his own skin and he hopes so desperately that Eddie can’t feel the uneven rise of his own chest.

“It gets suck sometimes. Right— back here.”

Eddie places his free on his thigh to hold his weight as he reaches further, his hand disappearing to the back of the sofa. He tried not to tense, he really had but he wasn’t so sure how successful he had been when Eddie dug his fingers gently into the soft of his thigh trying to gain more leverage. His hands were held up above the sides of his head, like Eddie was going burn the very flesh from his fingers if he touched and he was glad Eddie’s face was buried somewhere along with his hand to not notice his trembling.

“Gotcha.”

Eddie beams victory as he pulls his hand back from the sofa, one solid remote wrapped in his palm and he near on chokes on his own tongue when Eddie looks his way, springs of dark curls curtin his face as he winks up at him from his lap before pulling the rest of his body back to his sitting position, a toothy grin plastered across his face as he presses a bright red button on the remote to watch the television spark to life.

He tries to compose himself back into a normal position as subtle as he can, running sweaty palms along his thighs, that still seem to burn from the recent contact.

——

He’s on his second beer and as he swallows the lasts of the can, the bitter taste settling on his tastebuds Eddies once again nudges his shoulder, he turns to face a always too innocent expression looking back at him.

“Want to share?”

Eddie waivers a small bag between them, the green bud seemingly popping out of nowhere but he agrees anyway. Eddie leaves momentarily but returns with a handful of essentials, spreading the rolling papers, weed and a small bowl out in front of him on the coffee table.

“I have to admit, Harrington. It’s not half bad.”

Eddie sprinkles the weed in a line across the folded paper between his fingers, running a flat tongue along the edge as Eddie drawn his vision from the joint to look at him. He notes the curiosity hinted behind his gaze and it leaves a airy flutter in his stomach.

“I stand by my decision.”

It comes across almost cocky and he watches Eddie perk in amusement, twirling the paper into a perfectly rolled joint, a complacent smile curling his lips. He wasn’t sure at this point if it was at his comment or simply admiring his handy work.

“Confident there, Harrington.”

Eddies muses as he brings the joint to his lips, sparking the lighter closely behind. He draws a long inhale, his frame falling backwards and seemingly moulding into the sofa as he takes another hit.

“It’s a curse and a blessing.”

And although he delivers it with a huff of a laugh, it definitely does come across cocky this time, maybe a little more than he attend too as he reaches over and plucks the joint from Eddie’s lips, not missing the way Eddie’s mouth stays agape slightly as he drawls the warm smoke into his own chest.

Eddie breaks a laugh and nods in agreement leaning forward and making quick works on a second joint.

“The ole Harrington charm, hm?”

He slips into his own space letting the high seep through him and it brings an odd still to his nerves as he relaxes into the cushions, he lets Eddie’s comment sit with a over confident expression as he simply nods.

“Tell me, how does one charm with such ease?”

Eddie’s already started on his joint, he twirls it softly between two fingers before dragging the end between his lips, his vision boring into the side of his head. He can almost feel it. Without even looking, he knows Eddie’s got that self assured grin from ear to ear, revealing in the knowing that maybe he had put him in a awkward position.

But, oh Eddie. How wrong you were.

Feeling the affects of mixed alcohol and substance his ego kicked in over drive at the sudden challenge and though he was 99 percent sure that Eddie hadn’t meant what exactly he was about to do but he was a hands on teacher, what could he say?

He pulls his weight forwards, dipping the ends of his burnt out joint into the ashtray before shifting his frame slightly facing towards Eddie.

“Beats me.” He reaches across, his fore body practically resting in Eddie’s lap and against his chest and pulls Eddie at the wrist bringing Eddie’s fingers to his lips but doesn’t miss the way Eddie cocks an eyebrow in amusement between. “It just happens.”

He draws a hefty breath, soft as he wraps his lips around the end, dropping his lids as he lets the smoke collapse into his lungs. He feels Eddie tense under his palm when he runs the pad of his thumb in soft circles over the under side of his wrist or the way he can feel Eddie’s chest dip heavy when he wraps his fingers tighter around his wrist.

“That easy, huh?”

Eddie sounds more calm than he feels and he’s impressed as he chuckles softly, letting the excess smoke exit his lips as he side eyes Eddie casually, still not wavering from his spot or his hold on Eddie.

“Sometimes. Sometimes I have to be more persuasive.”

It’s drawls from his lips and even he can’t help but wipe at the invisible drool of his words as he runs the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip. Eddie’s eyes flicker momentarily, if he hadn’t been staring so intently he would have missed it.

He pulls Eddie’s wrist back towards him, his lips brushing the soles of his fingers as he sucks the lasts of the joint from between them, edging Eddie hand from his mouth he motions Eddie to put it out with a tilt of his head and without hesitation Eddie flicks the burnt out butt with ungodly persuasion as it bounces and falls somewhere beside the ashtray.

He loops a leg over Eddie’s thigh, his own straddling his leg as he props himself up in Eddie’s lap. He wasn’t sure exactly where the new found confidence had come from or the blind eye to the fact Eddie could knock him flat on his ass for pulling such a bold move without consequences but as fingers wrapped around the frame of Eddie’s jaw, firmly pulling his lips closer to his own, he feels rough hands skim his waist.

He drifts between the sensation of fingers prying beneath his shirt to his own cupped around the other man’s face, stubble poking the skin of his palm softly, his own lips grazing dangerously close to Eddie’s and Eddie takes the hint without thought as Eddie parts the soft of his lips as he exhales the smoke letting it seep between himself and Eddie as the swirl of smoke clouds between them slightly before Eddie inhales on the other end.

“Sometimes, they just need a little encouragement.”

He feels his lips brush his when he speaks and yet he still can’t seem to move away, the swirl of euphoria and weed bearing its way to the forefront of his thoughts and he lingers in the feeling for far too long.

Eddie hums against his lips and he feels the familiar loop in his stomach as the vibration trails across his skin but it seemingly doesn’t last long as abrupt hands sink into the dips of his waist pulling a shameless shriek from his throat as Eddie hoists him from his lap only to be thrown back into the sofa ending with Eddie perched above him, one knee securely placed between his legs as Eddie brings his wrists together in a hold above his head.

“Hm, looks like that charm of yours is still going strong, Stevie. But much like yourself..”

Eddie leans in closer, dark pupils bore down into his soul or at least that’s what it feels like and it ignites a warmth that flushes his skin pink, his signature grin curling the plush of his lips.

“I can be very persuasive also.”

The air draws thick around them in a blanket of heat and temptations, the salacious tone to Eddie’s voice splays clear of his message between them and to be honest he’s not used to being the one underneath it all but oddly enough there’s no desire to change the situation, yet.

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Final Chapter

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2718

Warnings: all the angst with a side order of fluff, FINAL CHAPTER

A/N: this is it, the series finale. I really hope you guys enjoyed the series and that this ending does it justice. Thank you for the lovely comments on previous chapters, I love you guys! Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Five | Masterlist

- - - - -

“We need to talk”

“I think you said enough yesterday” I say dismissively as I stand up.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

“But you did!” 

“I know this is no excuse but I was really drunk”

“You're right, that isn’t an excuse. What you said to me really hurt”

“I know and I am so so sorry. I think I thought that if I could make you hate me then it would be easier for me to not love you.”

I pause, trying to make sense of what he’s just said. 

“That’s stupid”

“I realise that now, but at the time my alcohol infused brain thought it was genius.” He says and I can't help but be slightly amused “Look Y/N, I need you to know I didn’t mean any of what I said yesterday. And I really hope you don't hate me, though I don't blame you if you do”

“I don’t hate you” I take his hands in mine and look deep in his eyes “I could never hate you, you mean too much to me now. I couldn’t have got through the past few weeks without you, so you're not getting rid of me that easy”

I give him a gentle but sincere smile and he lets out a sigh of relief. 

“It didn’t work anyway” he says and I respond with a confused look “My genius plan failed… I still love you” 

Before I can say anything else Eva appears at the door.

“There you are!” She calls and I quickly release the priest’s hands as I turn to look at her. She looks from me, to the priest and back to me “everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. This is the priest who’s doing the wedding.” 

“Oh uh, actually… I’m not anymore” he says, suddenly awkward again. 

“Can you give us a minute?” I say to Eva and she nods before disappearing back inside the house. I turn my attention back to the worried looking priest “What do you mean?” 

“I can’t be there today” 

“Are you serious? We need you!” 

“I know it’s unprofessional to pull out this late but so is kissing the bride behind the groom’s back, so…” he lets out a small nervous chuckle “I’ve arranged cover already. Father Crilly. He’s a good priest, he’ll make sure it all runs smooth”

“You're a good priest! You can make sure it runs smooth!”

“I can’t” he says, looking down at his feet

“Of course you can”

“No I can’t!” He snaps, looking back up at me. I notice tears starting to form in his eyes. “I can’t because I want it to go wrong. I want there to be a reason for this wedding not to happen, for you not to marry him… instead of me” 

My breath catches in my throat as I look at him, not knowing how to respond.

“Father…” I almost whisper “I- I don't know what to say”

“You don't have to say anything”

“You know how much mean to me-”

“Please don’t” he interrupts but I carry on 

“-but I can’t leave Daniel. I’m sorry”

“I can’t pretend to understand why you would marry a man who treats you the way he has, but if you love him even half as much as I love you… then I respect your decision. I’m not going to get in your way.” 

He turns to leave but I grab his arm gently stopping him. 

“Are you gonna be alright?” I ask and he gives me a small nod

“It’ll pass” 

I watch as he walks out my driveway and disappears down the road, taking deep steadying breaths before putting a smile on my face and heading inside to get ready. 

After all, today is to be the happiest day of my life. Right? 

— — — — 

So far the rest of the day has run smooth. I explained to Eva and the rest of the bridesmaids that the priest had to pull out last minute, making up some excuse about a family emergency, but that he’d arranged cover so there was nothing to stress about. Eva, as my substitute maid of honour, took on the job of alerting Daniel to the last minute change so there would be no confusion when he turned up at the church and found Father Crilly waiting for him. 

A few hours later I descended the stairs in my beautiful white dress to the sound of the girls showering me with compliments and my aunt Lynda sniffling into a hankie. 

“You look like a princess” she says, pulling me into a slightly too tight hug. 

It wasn’t long till the cars arrived and we were on our way. The bridesmaids pilled into one while me and Aunt Lynda got into the other. Lynda rambled on about something but I couldn't really hear her. Too busy staring silently out of the window. The closer we get to the church, the more I can feel the panic rising in my chest. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” She asks as she squeezes my hand gently, pulling my mind back into the car.

“Yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” I reply as convincingly as possible. 

“It’s okay to be nervous. Hell, I was more nervous the second time than I was for my first”

“I didn’t know you were married before uncle Steve?” 

“Yeah! It was long before you were born. We were school sweethearts. Like you and Daniel, only less in love. We thought we were in love but looking back now I realise we were too young to really know what that meant. Your dad tried to warn me. Said Troy and I were better off as friends, but we didn’t listen. He was great for relationship advice was your dad, bit of a self proclaimed love expert.” She pauses, going watery eyed again “I’m sorry he’s not here”

“Me too” 

“I’m sure wherever he is, he’ll be watching over you today. Your mother too. They’d both be so proud” she squeezes my hand again and smiles tearfully. 

“Don't make me cry. If I ruin my makeup Eva will kill me” I laugh, wiping under my eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She says, handing me a tissue “no more crying, this is a happy day!”

— — — — 

By the time we arrived at the church the bridesmaids were waiting outside with the photographer and the new priest. The photographer camera flashed at me as Lynda helped me out of the car and lead me to the church. Looking up at those wooden doors, I was glad I had Lynda to cling onto. My legs felt like jelly. 

Father Crilly introduced himself to me before heading inside the church. The bridesmaids, Lynda and I waited outside until we heard the music start, signalling the beginning of the ceremony. The bridesmaids began their walk up the aisle and before long the music changed again to the bridal chorus.

“Here we go” 

We walk into the church, stopping just inside the doors. I glance up to the front of the church to see Daniel looking back at me, a smile spread across his face. A smile I can’t make myself return. Instead I keep my eyes down, focusing on the floor as we walk up aisle. I can feel every set of eyes on me, but I keep mine fixed on my feet that carry me closer and closer to my future. 

We reach the top and Lynda gives me a kiss on the cheek before going to join the bridesmaids on the front row. Daniel takes my hand in his, whispering “you look amazing” into my ear as Father Crilly begins the ceremony. 

His opening speech goes by in a blur. I try to listen to every word he’s saying, to keep myself planted in the real world but my mind is spinning and my heart is pounding. I can’t stop thinking about what Lynda said in the car. What if Daniel and I aren’t in love? We just think we are because we’ve been together so long. We’re just used to being with each other. 

I also can’t get the priest out of my head. Worrying about him. Wondering what he’s doing now, whether he’s thinking about me. I replay our last conversation in my head. 

‘I still love you’ 

‘I want there to be a reason for this wedding not to happen, for you not to marry him… instead of me’ 

I try to push his words from my mind, focusing instead on his final ones. 

‘It’ll pass’

But what if it doesn’t. 

“If any person present knows of any lawful reason why this marriage can’t take place they should speak now or forever hold their peace” Father Crilly pauses. 

A tense silence fills the room. 

I look out across the crowd of friends and family sitting silently in their seats, a small part of me hoping the priest will burst through the doors dramatically declaring his love for me as he sweeps me away to live happily ever after. 

I shake the fantasy from my mind and turn my attention back to the man I’m actually about to marry. Daniel is also looking out at the church crowd. He looks nervous. I give his hand a gentle squeeze and he looks at me.

“Are you okay?” I whisper and he nods, but I can tell he’s not. As he looks away from me again my mind starts to spiral, panic rising in my chest. I can’t do this. 

‘It’ll pass’

 I think I’m making a mistake. 

‘It’ll pass’

These feelings are too intense to ignore.

‘It’ll pass’

These feelings of love. Not for Daniel. For the priest. I don't want them to pass. 

“I object” I say quietly, staring down at my hand enclosed within Daniel’s. I can feel his gaze on my face as a wave of gasps and shocked murmuring works its way through the church. 

“What?” He says, a nervous laugh escapes his lips but the smile fades as my sad eyes lock onto his.

“I object” 

“To- to your own wedding…?” Father Crilly asks, voice full of confusion.

“I can’t do it. I can’t start a marriage with a lie.”

“Y/N? What are you talking about?” Daniel asks, gripping my hands tightly in his own, afraid to let go. 

“When you marry someone, there shouldn’t be any secrets. You have to be able to confess anything, trust them with everything… I need to be honest with you.” I pause, building up the courage to say what I need to say next. “Daniel I-”

“I cheated on you” he blurts out, earning another gasp from the crowd

“…what?” 

“I’ve been having an affair…” Daniel repeats “Tiff and I… we, uh-”

“Tiffany? My best friend Tiffany?” I ask and he nods “How long?”

“Maybe we should continue this somewhere else” Father Crilly tries to move us but I ignore him.

“How long Daniel? How long have you been sleeping with my best friend behind my back?”

“A few months I think”

“You think? What, you don't even remember?” I bring my hands up to my head, rubbing circles on my temples as I turn my back on Daniel and take deep breaths. 

“Y/N, please listen to me. I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you-” he puts his hands on my shoulders but I shrug him off.

“You say that a lot for someone who has repeatedly hurt me. Emotionally…” I turn back to face him “physically. And every time I make excuses for you, brush off the insults, hide the bruises because I thought I was in love with you. But I’m not. I don't love you. I haven’t loved you for a long time. I was just too scared to leave you. But I'm not scared anymore”

“I really think we should talk this through somewhere private” Father Crilly tries again but I shake my head. 

“I’m done.” I take Daniel’s hand and look him straight in the eye “Thank you for finally setting me free” 

I remove my engagement ring and place it in his hand before turning and walking back down the aisle to exit the church. Daniel runs after me, stopping me once we’re outside. 

“Y/N! Please just let me explain-”

“Did you ever stop to think how I would feel?” I spin around, taking him by surprise “When you were with her, did you consider me at all?” I pause, giving him the chance to respond but he doesn’t “See that’s the difference between you and me. All I ever do, all I’ve ever done, is think about you and how you’d react. A few days ago I kissed someone-”

“What?! Who?!” He yells, anger creeping onto his face

“Don't you dare get angry with me after what you’ve done!” I respond and he takes a deep breath “I could’ve done more. I had the opportunity to sleep with him. But I didn’t. Because I kept thinking about you, about how you would feel. And what you would do to me if you ever found out”

“I love you”

“No you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t have slept with my best friend. You don't love me, and that’s fine. I don't love you either, cause if I truly did then I wouldn’t have kissed the priest. I think we both just convinced ourselves we were in love because everyone else thought we were this fairytale love story. But maybe we were better off as friends.”

“Maybe” he says quietly, deep in thought “I’m really sorry, about everything. I treated you…terribly” 

Hearing a sincere, genuine apology from him, I finally feel at peace with it all. 

“It doesn’t matter now” I say, giving him a small smile “do you love Tiffany?”

He thinks for a moment before gently nodding his head. 

“I think so, yeah”

“You should tell her” I say, gesturing behind him as Tiffany comes running towards us. 

“Eva texted me.” She says breathlessly “Y/N, I am so sorry I should have-” 

I cut her off by pulling her into a hug.

“It’s okay” I say, releasing her and she looks at me in shock as I hand her my bridal bouquet “I hope you two are happy together. Really I mean that” 

I turn and walk away. 

“Where are you going?” Tiff calls after me.

“To get my happy ending” 

— — — — 

“Y/N?!” 

The priest looks at me confused as he answers his front door. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“You lied to me” I say deadpan “you said Father Crilly would make sure it all ran smooth. But it didn’t. Something went very very wrong during the ceremony.”

“What happened?” He looks genuinely concerned

“Well a few things. The bride objected, and then the groom confessed to cheating with the former maid of honour. Then the bride confessed to kissing the former priest and they both confessed to not loving each other.”

He stands looking at me for a few moments, taking it all in. 

“Wow” he finally says “so not smooth then?”

“No” I burst out laughing and the priest joins in before turning serious again. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, searching my face.

“Yeah” I say after a moment, “more than okay, I’m great. I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders”

“That’s good”

There’s a comfortable silence before I speak again. 

“You know, during the ceremony I kept hearing you in my head. Saying ‘It’ll pass’. And I realised something”

“What?”

“I don't ever want this feeling to pass. This feeling I get when I think of you, when I’m with you.” I pause to take a breath “I love you” 

“I love you too Y/N”

I smile. 

“So what happens now?”

He takes a step toward me, closing the gap as he brings his hands up to my face and crashes his lips to mine.

— — — — 

I started this story by saying every girl dreams of her perfect wedding day. 

Well mine ended up being far from perfect. 

But as I lay here wrapped in the priest’s arms, for the first time in a long time I’m happy. I’m free. 

And I’m in love. 

[pigeonp0st]

could u do nat taking care of r when r gets sick (pretty please i beg of u)? preferably lots of cuddles 🥺🥺

idk i just love soft!nat 🥺

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #5

Words: 1,689

Warnings: none?

Notes:

I didn’t really like how this one turned out but i’ve finally decided that staring at it in my drafts with disappointed isn’t gonna make it any better...so here it is. Thank you for requesting, and sorry for spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

———

It started with a cold. Just a couple of sneezes, a runny nose, and a sore throat...the usual.

It started out with you trying your best to hide it. Hide the sickness. That plan went under the moment Natasha heard you sneeze during training... she had you confessing to your sins much too quickly.

Suffice to say she immediately kicked you out of the training area with demands to take some medicine.

So she was the first to realize that you were sick, and she was the first to realize you were getting worse instead of better. She’d pester you endlessly when you wouldn’t want to talk about it, and watch over you like a hawk.

It was sweet, but you also didn’t think it was necessary. You were sure you’d be fine in three or so days.

How wrong you were.

When you wake up with a 103° fever for the third day in a row it has you layed in bed for the whole day groaning about the inequalities of the world, and begging Natasha not to get a doctor for the 100th time.

You were fine. Totally fine.

Natasha watches you with a mix of amusement and concern from the corner of the room and suggests, gently, that maybe you’re not.

You peak over your covers to glare at her in something like betrayal. “I’d be fine if you’d stop pacing and come cuddle with me.”

She seems to think about her options for a long moment and right when you think she’s going to reject you she relents with a heavy sigh and gets into the bed.

She’s so blissfully cold it has you snuggling into her side immediately, both to warm her up and use her as your own personal ice pack.

“You’re burning up,” Natasha whispers, but she pulls you closer to her—like somehow if she’s close enough she can absorb some of your pain and make you feel just that little bit better. “If your fever rises even a little bit we’re going to the doctors, okay?”

She’s concerned and worried, and even though a stranger fussing over you is the last thing you want you know you have to give her this.

As soon as you nod your head in agreement some of the tension seeps out of her body, much to your relief. As ridiculous as it is, you’re worried about her worried about you—if that makes sense.

“Around 100,000 people died from the flu in 2019,” Natasha mumbles against your forehead. She adds quietly after a moment, “just in case you were wondering.”

You were not wondering. What the fuck.

“Nat...that statistic is mostly old people.”

“Yeah,” Nat agrees, “you’ll be fine.”

And despite your body's protest, and how much of a pain it is to pull away, you do, just so you can give Natasha an incredulous look so she knows just what you think about what she’s doing right now.

Her face is unexpectedly vulnerable when you see it. She isn’t trying to bother you...she’s just…she’s worrying herself crazy.

“Nat,” you sigh, ready to embark on the most comforting and articulate speech you can think of, but a sudden fit of coughs has you turning away hurriedly to muffle your face in a pillow.

When your lungs finally decide to stay in your body for now, and Natasha stops rubbing your back, you’re too tired to try and comfort her, so instead you mumble, on the verge of sleep, “if I die; just know I love you.”

Which, in hindsight, probably doesn’t help much.

But she doesn’t sound worried when she replies, just exasperated and fond. “I love you, too.”

———-

When you wake up again it’s to a bunch of kisses and beautiful red hair.

“Stop attacking me,” you grumble, trying to push her away, but you're not able to hide your smile. God, you love your badass (soft) girlfriend.

“Look who's not dead!”

Remembering your last words to her before you went to sleep has you finally opening your eyes and giving Nat a sheepish smile. Oops. “Look who really wants to get sick…”

“My immune system is stronger than yours,” Natasha scoffs, shoving both your medicine at you and a bottle of water.

“Asshole,” you mumble, moving to open the medicine bottle only to get stopped by a hand on your wrist. “What?”

“You need to eat first.”

Thus, starts the trip towards death.

————

“Oh my god, how much farther is it…”

Your fever is finally down and back to safer levels so naturally Natasha has insisted that you’re able to go to the kitchens yourself and sit outside to eat.

You need fresh air, she said.

The room is getting stuffy, she said.

It’ll be good for you, she said.

What a fucking devil.

“You’re literally the most dramatic person to ever grace this earth,” Natasha tells you for only the millionth time since the journey began. “Maybe if you stopped sliding against the wall and crawling on the floor like you got shot three times we’d get there faster.”

“Maybe if you’d help me—”

“I tried! But apparently i’m ruining your image.” She rolls her eyes when she says that, then turns away to grin like she thinks you won’t notice.

You’re a whipped idiot who's decided to make a complete full of yourself and waste what little energy you have just to get your girlfriend to laugh, and to prove to her that you’re doing better.

You’re definitely going to regret this later, but now, in the moment; This is totally worth it. No doubt.

————

Wanda is in the kitchen.

As soon as you see her you straighten up and stop leaning on the wall (and limping). Natasha laughs next to you when she notices.

“You’re doing better, Y/N?” Wanda asks, glancing over you before returning back to the soup she’s making. For you. She’s making soup for you.

You adore her. She’s your favorite person, she’s—

“Not your girlfriend,” Wanda interjects, amused, “and doing this as a concerned teammate, and because your girlfriend asked.”

“Yes, well I love you anyways. Your cooking has gotten very good,” you say, shooting her a grin while you practically bounce to the dining chair, in stark contrast to the way you were dragging yourself down the halls.

Natasha does a good job at trying to not look confused, but she clearly is. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wanda informs her before you get the chance to.

“Favorite person for making you soup?” Natasha asks once Wanda’s done relaying your thoughts. She narrows her eyes at you then. “Not the person who has been taking care of you since you became an avenger, not the person who—”

“It’s very good soup, Nat.”

“Very,” Steve agrees from the living room.

Natasha sighs, takes a sniff of the soup, and resigns herself to the facts she’s faced with. “Yeah...it is.”

——-

“Close your mouth,” Natasha orders, tapping your chin. You listen, waiting patiently for the beep of the thermometer to signal it’s done.

When it does, Natasha pulls it back to study it. There’s a small lapse of anxious silence before Natasha reveals the results. Then...“Ninety-Nine. You’re officially a healthy woman.”

And with that, you’re finally free of the bed rest and able to walk the halls as a newly restored human being.

“I’m free,” you shout, tackling Natasha onto the bed and kissing her all over her face, completely overjoyed. “Natasha, I survived!”

You survived. It only took an exhausting week. When your fever went down a couple of days ago it spiked to 105° a bit after and you were sure you were going to suffocate in Natasha’s worry because of it. You had to go to the medical room...it was awful.

But now Nat laughs, and laughs, and then pulls you into a tight hug to stop all of the kissing. She seems to be unburdened and lighter now that she finally has the numbers she’s wanted.

“Loving you as much as I do is really just living in this constant state of worry and fear,” Natasha says when you’ve both settled down. “I do not like things being out of my control,” she admits, kissing the crown of your head. “Especially when it involves my heart.”

“Your heart,” you repeat, curious. “Is that what I am?”

“Ignoring the worry and fear part?” Natasha teases, quirking an eyebrow.

“We both know those feelings are accompanied with a multitude of good and beautiful emotions. I feel them too.”

Natasha smiles then, soft and gentle, and full of admiration. “Yes.”

You tilt your head. “Yes...what?”

“Yes, you are my heart. Or at least you feel like you are.”

At that, with a determination and seriousness that visibly shocks Natasha you say, “i’ll protect it. I’ll protect myself, and because you're mine also, I'll help protect you. Always.”

“Always,” Natasha agrees, her fingertips trailing across your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, embarrassed suddenly, “of course.”

————

“Are...are you serious?”

Natasha scowls into her tea and says nothing in response. This is fucking hilarious.

Your lovely girlfriend doesn’t seem to think so because the second she sees your face struggling not to laugh she begins glaring at you. “Don’t,” Nat warns. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“I seem to recall you saying, and I quote, ‘my immune system is stronger than yours.’” You grin. “Oh how ironic this is.”

“I’m not sick—”

“Aw, but baby, the amount of tissues on the floor seem to be saying otherwise,” you gesture towards the growing pile, feeling absolutely no sympathy until Natasha glances at the pile with a sigh of defeat. She looks so small and sad covered in her pile of blankets...it simply won’t do. “Don’t fret, my love. I will take care of you, just as you took care of me,” you assure her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“First things first,” you tilt her chin up, “i’ll get Wanda to make you some soup so you can take some medicine.”

“I hate the world,” Natasha grumbles, mumbling some curses in russian.

“I love you, too.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Certain Type

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, fingering, oral, cheating

This is dark!Steve Rogers (and some side Bucky) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Steve Rogers has an unhealthy interest in his TA.

for @evnscvll​‘s 3k challenge, I used the prompts Professor AU + ‘Don’t’ by Bryson Tiller

Note: A quick one shot for y’all ft. Professor Steve and a little sleazy Bucky too.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Reader📚

You smiled at Lauren as you handed her back her paper; the first assignment of the year. On the due date, Professor Rogers had shuffled them all up and handed you half the stack. That had been the same day as your first lesson. It had all been so overwhelming but more than a month and a half into the semester, you were starting to get a foothold.

“Have a good day,” You watched Lauren go, the last of the students to shuffle out into the hall. 

You grabbed the three papers left in the file folder and crossed to the podium. Your advisor, Professor Rogers, worked at erasing his slanted writing from the whiteboard. You waited patiently until he set down the eraser and turned to you.

“I have some leftovers.” You clapped the bottom of the folder on the wood. “Absentees.”

“Ah, yes,” He neared the other side of the podium and took the file from you. He flipped through the papers inside. “Only three? I think that’s a new record…” He closed the folder and tucked it under his arm. “I’ll hold onto them until next class.”

“Alright,” You nodded. “So… did you get a chance to look over my lesson on Kant?”

“I did,” He bent to grab his bag. “You know, I can really tell you’re a history major first… but it’s good. I’ll send you my notes tonight.”

“I’m trying to break that,” You went to the seat along the first row where you often sat when it wasn’t your turn to teach. You lifted your bag onto the seat. “Trying to focus less on the dry who’s and what’s and more on ideas.”

“Well, so far, you’re a quick learner,” He offered as you packed up your notebook. “We do need to go over the marking scheme for next week’s assignment. You able to make Saturday?”

“Uh,” You glanced at the icon on your phone screen. You had several unanswered and unread messages. “Actually, I’m… busy. I can stop by during regular office hours.”

“I try to keep that reserved for undergrads,” He inhaled. “But I wouldn’t ask you to cancel.”

“I can rearrange--”

“Boyfriend?” He interrupted. “Finally making time?”

“He’s been out of town,” You said meekly. “How about tomorrow? I can come to campus between your afternoon blocks.”

“Hmmm,” He dragged his fingertips over his trimmed beard. “Meet me at Smoky’s. I usually have a coffee there after my morning class.” He pushed the flap over the top of his bag. “They have great carrot muffins.”

“Works for me,” You lifted your leather bag and tucked your phone up your sleeve. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be,” He waved away your apology and went to the door. He opened it and waited expectantly. “We have lives. Some of us more than others.” He chuckled. “You deserve a Saturday to yourself.”

📚

You giggled as your head spun. Bucky pinned you beneath him as he rolled you over on the rug. What had started out as a none-so-innocent wrestling match had turned into your usual affair. He could never win an argument with you so it often ended with his lips, or his hand, smothering out your words.

Besides, you were eager for him. Almost desperate. Two weeks without him and you almost jumped on him the moment he opened the door. And after such a long week, you needed the stress relief.

His fingers tickled along your thigh and past the top of your stockings as he snaked beneath your skirt. You hadn’t started wearing them until you met him. He liked the short ones, especially on you. He pulled your panties aside and you gasped as his fingertips swirled around your clit. You latched onto his shoulders as his lips explored your throat.

“You’re wearing panties,” He growled.

“It’s cold out…” You breathed. 

“You’ve got a coat,” He nipped at your neck and slid his fingers down your folds. “Don’t you?”

You tried to close your legs and his pushed your knee down with his.

“Ah,” He warned. “None of your games.”

“I didn’t come here for a lecture,” You huffed. “I pay tuition for that.”

“We both know why you came here,” He lifted his head and pecked your lips. “How many times did you touch yourself while I was away?”

“That’s none of your business.” You snipped.

“Do you have toys?” His hot breath grazed along your cheek. “Do you think of me?”

“Bucky,” You whined as he poked his fingers inside of you. 

He purred as he dropped his head again and his teeth toyed with the tender flesh of your throat. He pulled your sweater up, rolling it with the tank top beneath until it was above your chest. No bra that day. He hummed and took you nipple in his mouth until your arched your back.

“Well…” He rolled your hard nipple between his thumb and index. “You’ve learned something.”

“Should I just come naked?” You asked.

“Preferably,” He chuckled as he ventured along your stomach, a trail of kisses and bites.

“Ugh,” You groaned as he brushed over your hips bones, his fingers still buried in you. 

He nosed along your pelvis and you tensed in expectation. He paused and raised his head. You looked down at him as his fingers stilled and he hovered close enough for his breath to tickle your cunt.

“What are you waiting for?” You snarled.

He smirked and closed the distance. His eyes never left yours as his tongue swirled around your clit and he sealed his lips around it. You gulped and let out a pathetic moan. His other hand gripped your hip and he hummed as your eyes rolled back and your legs hugged him closer.

“Ah, I missed you,” You stretched your arms out as you tilted into him. “Mmm, Bucky.”

He seemed pleased by your words as his fingers sped up and his tongue danced more firmly around your bud. You began to quiver as he set your nerves on fire. The knot inside of you tightened and the wire drew taut until you couldn’t bear it anymore. At once, you orgasmed, your hand flying down to grasp Bucky’s head as he lapped up your pleasure.

Panting, your body went limp and you laid sprawled out with his head between your legs, twitching as he drew out the ecstasy with his tongue. Slowly, he pulled away and slipped his fingers from inside you, rubbing them over your sensitive clit. He sat up and kneaded your thigh.

“Missed you too, baby,” He flicked open his fly with one hand. “God, I can’t wait any longer.”

Steve 📚

Steve hadn’t been to Bucky’s in a while. They usually met downtown for a beer or ended up at his place. As it was, it didn’t seem like they had much time for each other anymore. Well, Steve wasn’t surprised. His oldest friend was juggling a lot; his job, his fiancee, and apparently some new side piece.

He sat up as Bucky offered him a bottle of crisp beer. The top wisped as he accepted it and Steve felt its chill against his lips before he took his first sip. He sat back and bent his leg to rest over his other knee, rolling his ankle as he stared at the bare floorboards.

“What happened to the carpet?” He asked in realisation.

“It’s getting cleaned,” Bucky sat across from him and snickered. “You know, made a bit of a mess.”

“Anna?” Steve raised a brow.

“Nah,” Bucky shrugged. “She cancelled her flight. Apparently they had some emergency at the lab.”

“Hmm,” Steve rested the bottle atop the arm of the couch. “This other girl?”

“What am I supposed to do? I fly all the way to Germany for about twenty minutes of Anna’s attention. The last time…” He shook his head. “I just don’t know how to… end it. Don’t even know that I want to. I just want it to be over. Two years is a long time.”

Steve nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say. What advice could he offer? His last relationship hadn’t lasted long and had been so far back, he barely remembered more than her name. After a slew of bad dates and disappointing flings, he decided to focus on his work. Well, even that was becoming difficult.

“And when Anna comes back?”

“Well, you know, this girl, she’s still in college, she’s got a lot going on. It is what it is.” He said. “You know, she’d find another guy in an instant and forget about me.”

“College?” Steve blinked. He hadn’t known that. “A bit young.”

His cheeks burned. He wasn’t sure if he was reprimanding his friend or himself. The fact that Bucky was dipping into the campus pool reminded Steve of his own guilt. Sure, he hadn’t done anything, it was all professional, but his thoughts… His thoughts were what troubled him.

“You never… thought of it?” Bucky asked. “You spend so much time around these girls and you never even--”

“It’s against the rules,” Steve cleared his throat. “I’m there to teach. I do my job.”

“And when’s the last time you got laid?”

“Shut up,” Steve took a swig. “The carpet?”

“She’s funny. She likes to… play around first.” Bucky took a mouthful beer and his eyes turned dreamy. “It wasn’t me who ruined the carpet.”

“Mmm,” Steve jiggled his leg anxiously. The vision that flashed in his mind had him sipping again. It wasn’t Bucky and some faceless girl on the floor, it was him and the sweet TA. He cleared his throat and looked through the dark brown glass. “Just about done. You got another?”

“Maybe she has a friend?” Bucky offered as he stood.

He neared as Steve drained the last of his beer and handed over the empty bottle.

“Thirsty?” Bucky took it and disappeared, returning with a fresh one.

“Long week.” Steve rubbed his cheek as he leaned forward to take the second bottle. “Another ahead.”

“Well, I could ask her.” Bucky grabbed his own beer and stayed standing. “The young ones, these days, they don’t want anything serious.”

“But I do,” Steve grumbled. “Thanks but… no thanks.”

“Your loss,” Bucky said. “You know, she’s real wild. I took her to a baseball game. She hates the game but… what she did in the bathroom… wow.”

Steve gave a weak smile and chuckled dryly. He glanced around. The carpet wasn’t the only thing that had disappeared. That framed picture of Bucky and Anna was gone too and the mantle only held the antique gun mounted on mahogany.

“Too bad it’s off season now,” Bucky droned on as he lazily paced and drank his beer.

“Yeah,” Steve leaned back and felt something hard beside the cushion. 

He shifted but it poked him again. He reached down into the crevice as Bucky took the baseball he’d had signed years ago and began to toss it up and down as he complained about the last season. 

Steve pulled out the long cylinder and blinked at how familiar it was. He swallowed and tucked it into his jean pocket quickly as Bucky threw the ball in his direction. He barely caught it without spilling his beer and chucked it back with venom.

“The fuck, Bucky?”

“Good to see you still got it,” Bucky laughed. “Pizza?”

“Sure,” Steve huffed. “No pepperoni.”

“Boring,” Bucky said as he pulled out his phone.

Steve took a deep breath as Bucky set down his beer and lifted his phone to his ear. He stepped into the short hallway and greeted the other end, carefully placing an order for a large and a side of wings. 

As he did. Steve pulled out the pen and turned it between his fingers. The daisy pendant that dangled from the end, the initials etched into the rose gold, the little scratch along the tip. It was definitely hers. His stomach sank and he quickly hid it as Bucky’s voice died.

He’d have to be sure. He’d give it back to her the next day and see.

Reader📚

You were heartened by Steve’s interest as you finished up your last slide. The lesson had gone well and the class was interested in what could otherwise be a dry topic. You took questions but found many of them were simple enough. The students seemed to understand well enough and you reminded them to submit their next assignment by Wednesday night.

Several students stopped to ask you about your office hours before the room finally emptied. Steve approached as you slid your papers into your notebook and closed it. He reached over the podium and set down the metal pen. The one your mother had gifted you when you were accepted to your masters program.

“You forgot this,” He let it roll down to the lip and catch there.

“Oh my god, I’ve been looking for this,” You grabbed it and spun it in your fingers. “Thanks so much! I’d hate for anyone else to just claim it.”

“No problem,” His blue eyes were, for once, humourless.

“Where was it?”

His brows shot up and his lips parted. He looked over his shoulder then back to you.

“U-under the desk,” He pointed to your usual seat. “Caught my eye during one of my other classes.”

“Well,” You fiddled with it and gathered up your notebook. “It needs a refill anyway.”

You grabbed your bag and shoved your things inside. You were glad he’d found it, you had been convinced you’d left it at Bucky’s and he had been evasive since Saturday. Work, as usual. Well, what did you expect? He was older and unlike college boys, he couldn’t just skip.

“I liked it,” Steve hovered around you, a hand in his pocket. “I see you took my advice.”

“Oh, the lesson,” You looked up at him as you lifted your bag. “Yeah, well, it would’ve been a disaster without you.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “So, you got another class now?”

“Thesis work,” You said. “Library.”

“Fun,” He remarked. “You know… if you don’t… if you need a quiet place, you can use my office. I have some stuff to take care of before my next block so…”

“Oh, I don’t… know, I wouldn’t want to…”

“It’s pretty big anyway. Even if I was there, I probably wouldn’t even notice you.” He said. “And there’s a bluetooth speaker in there. A gift I never really use but you’re free to.”

“I, um…” You considered the library and the stuffy, dry air. The noise of hidden food wrappers and buzzing whispers. “You sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Go on,” He grabbed his bag and checked his watch. “I don’t mind.”

“Twist my arm,” You accepted.

“I’ll have to unlock it for you,” He went to the door. 

“Uh, sure,” You followed him into the hall and waited as he locked up the classroom.

Silently, you walked beside him. You realised you didn’t have much to say about anything besides philosophy. You pulled out your phone. A message from Bucky. Finally. After days of radio silence.

“Sorry, baby, going out of town.” You hissed and blackened the screen.

“What’s up?” Steve asked as you followed him out into the late autumn chill.

“Nothing,” You shrugged.

“That boyfriend again?” He asked. 

“It’s whatever,” You grumbled. “Really.”

“I don’t know, it seems like every time I see you, he’s up to no good.”

“Well, he’s… busy.”

“And? You are too.”

“Yeah, but...I mean…” You were quiet as you walked along the campus path. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t--”

“I don’t mind. A little bit of impersonal gossip is… fun. And your secret’s safe with me.”

You glanced over at him and then around at the students all around.

“He’s older,” You admitted. “So… he’s always busy.”

“Older? Like what? A year or two?”

“A bit more than that,” You said nervously. “More…”

You were quiet again. He led you up the steps of the philosophy building and as he always did, opened the door. 

“...Your age.” You finished.

He blinked and tailed you inside, gesturing you up the stairs. You often did prep in his office so you didn’t need much guidance as he followed you up.

“Oh, old-old,” He scoffed. “I get it.”

You laughed, despite yourself and he came up beside you as you reached the third floor.

“You’re supposed to say ‘No, Professor Rogers, you’re not old’,” He chided as he rounded the corner and stopped in front of his office door. “Or something like that.”

“Sorry, I--”

As he reached into his pocket for his keys, a chiming tune filled the hallway. He pulled out his phone instead and apologized as he put it to his ear.

“Hey,” He cradled it with his shoulder as he fished for his keys. “What’s up, Buck?”

He shoved the key into the slot and the audible friction of metal in metal was like a knife to your heart. ‘Buck’? You frowned as he pushed open the door and waved you inside. He stayed at the threshold as he continued his call.

“Germany? I thought you said-- Ahh, okay, yeah,” He leaned on the doorframe. “Anna will be happy to see ya. Oh yeah, been a while.” He tilted his head. “We’ll reschedule. No problem. Yep. Have a good one.”

You waited anxiously as he hung up and stepped inside. He tucked his phone away and checked his watch again.

“Sorry, old friend. He’s going to see his fiancee and well--” He stopped himself. “Anyways, desk is there, speaker is…” He went to the shelf and pulled forward a rather expensive gadget. “Here. Maybe you’ll have better luck figuring it out.”

“Uh, thanks,” You nodded, almost dumbfounded as your mind began to whir. “I appreciate it. I won’t be more than an hour or two.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks, again.”

“Not at all,” He went to the door and turned back. “See ya tomorrow.”

“Sure,” You smiled.

He closed the door behind him as he went. You dropped your bag and fumbled for your phone. You tore it out of your pocket and swiped up. You searched through your contacts and hit call. It had to be a coincidence. Right?

“Hey,” Bucky answered from the other end, a din of activity around him. “I’m just about to fly out.”

“You’re engaged?” You hissed.

“What-- I-- How did you--”

“You are!” You snarled. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you! So have you been busy with work or with her?”

“Baby, it’s--”

“Don’t call me baby,” You retorted. “In fact, don’t call me. Ever.”

You hung up. A floorboard creaked and you turned around. Steve stood in the open door.

“Sorry, I… forgot to grab something,” He pointed past you. “I didn’t mean to--”

“I gotta go,” You bent to pick up your bag. “I’m sorry, I--” 

You neared but he blocked the door with his body.

“Bucky?”

“Your friend,” You uttered. “I didn’t know. I-- Did you?”

“No,” He answered. “Not until… now.”

“Well, now you do.”

“You don’t have to go because of-- I don’t care,” He said.

“I do. I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. He lied. How could you know?” He touched your arm.

“Isn’t he-- he’s your friend. You should be defending him,” You recoiled.

“And? He can be my friend and still be wrong,” He stepped closer and you back up, his hand lingered along your elbow. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Professor, but I should--”

“Steve,” He corrected you. “I think we know each other well enough.”

He got closer again and you continued to retreat. He kicked the door closed behind him and you flinched.

“What are you--”

He leaned in and you were surprised by his hand on your chin. You dropped your bag and tried to wriggle away. He kissed you and you pushed against his chest. Your skin was alight as your insides wrenched. He parted, at last, his hand still around your jaw.

“What are you doing?” You breathed. 

“You deserve better,” His kissed your again and you bit his lip.

“Professor--”

“Steve,” He insisted and squeezed your chin.

“Let me go,” You grabbed his wrist.

He marched you backwards until you were against his desk. You clutched his wrist tightly but he didn’t budge.

“What? You’ll fuck him but not me?” He sneered. 

“It’s not-- you’re my advisor. I--” Your hand slipped down his arm as you panicked. “Please.”

“I’ve tried so hard not to think about it. About you.” He pushed you against the desk, bending you back until you were flat atop it, your legs hanging off. He loomed over you. “Thinking I was too old and yet I just wanted to have you... Right here… in the front of the class. Mmm, and then I find out you’re fucking him and I realise… you want it just as bad.”

“No, no, “Prof-- Steve,” You pleaded as his hand slid down to your neck. “I-- It was only… It was just sex.”

“Did you ever think of me when you were with him? Huh?” His lips were just above yours. “I thought of you. He told me about you but I didn’t even realise… I heard you do all sorts of naughty things.”

His other hand tugged at your blouse and you writhed helplessly.

“He told me you wore these little skirts for him,” He pressed his lips to your cheeks. “That you kept them on as he fucked you.”

“Steve,” You whined. “Stop!”

“Or what? It’d be a waste to toss away almost a semester’s work…” He snarled. “You know what they do to students who cross professional bounds? I have a duty to report such misconduct.”

“No, no, you--”

“Who are they going to believe?” He snapped. “Hmm, especially when it comes out you been fucking a man twice your age on the side.”

“They-- Steve,” You tried to catch his hand as he tugged on your pants. “You’re scaring me.”

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted our first time to be,” His hand snaked around and he pulled your pants down to your thighs in a single wipe. “That was before I knew how you like it.”

He held you down by your throat as he forced your pants past your knees, your panties twisted in the folds. He brought his foot up to push them further and free them from your ankles.

His hand flew back up your leg and he pushed two fingers against your cunt as you squirmed. He pressed deeper and rubbed along your folds as he bent over you again. He kissed you and drew back before you could bite him.

“You’re wet, kitten,” He purred. “We both know what you want.”

He toyed with you, flicking his fingers over your clit and dragging them back down. He repeated the motion several times until you bit your lips and slapped at the desk.

“Look at you,” He pushed his middle fingers inside of you and your back arched. “He didn’t care about you. Not like I do.”

He pressed the heel of his hand to your clit and curled his fingers. He squeezed and you gasped. He pulled his hand down and spread it over your chest, holding you down as he played with you. He sped up and his fingers clutched your blouse as he shook your body. You closed your eyes as you tried to resist the coil winding tightly inside you.

You mewled and he hushed you. You gritted your teeth and slapped your hand over his. He rocked his hand faster and you struggled to catch your breath. Your nails dug into the back of his hand and you pressed your lips together to hold in the sudden rise. You spasmed as you came atop the desk.

He slowed his hand and when he withdrew, you felt empty and cold. You opened your eyes as he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked clean his fingers. He hummed and ran his hands over your thighs. 

“Stand up,” He ordered. 

You stayed as you were, shaking, and stared at him. You drew your legs together and he pinched you.

“Now,” He growled.

You pushed yourself up and slid off the edge of the desk. He grabbed your open jacket and pulled it down your arms. Then he tore the hem of your blouse up and you were forced to raise your arms as he stripped away the cotton blend. Your bra fell loose as he swiftly unclasped the hooks and it fell away from your arms.

He grasped your shoulders and ran his hands down your front, cupping your chest as he took in every inch of you. He grabbed your arm and spun you to face the desk. He took your hands in his and placed them flat on the top. 

“Stay,” He bid. “I won’t tell you twice.”

His hand grazed your ass and he spanked you lightly. You winced and he reluctantly drew away. You trembled as you listened to him behind you. He dropped his jacket over your shoulder on the desk in front of you. Then his zipper whispered in the tense silence and he stepped closer until you felt his warmth against your naked back. He kicked your feet apart with his leather shoe and fumbled around behind you.

You flinched as his hand brushed against you and you felt him prodded along your ass. He leaned against you and guided your hand further over the desk. He dragged his tip along your folds, poking until he found your entrance. You tried to push away from the desk and he leaned on you heavier.

“He can’t make you feel like I can,” He rasped in your ear as he slid into you. “How does that feel, kitten?”

He impaled you entirely and your fingers curled against the wood. You gulped and hung your head.

“Answer me,” He wrapped his arm around your neck and forced your head up. “Be a good girl.”

“G-good,” You stuttered as he thrust into you.

“Yeah,” He breathed against your scalp. “Better than him?”

He rocked steadily against you as you struggled to keep yourself from folding over the desk. He grabbed your hip and sank his nails into the flesh.

“When I ask a question, you answer me,” He warned. “Like the good girl you are.”

“Y-y-yes,” You stammered as your thighs tingled. “B-b-better than… h-him.”

“Much better than I ever imagined,” His hot breath seeped into you as he nuzzled the crown of your head. “Fuck.”

You moaned as his arm wrapped snugger around your neck, his muscles hard through the soft fabric of his shirt. His flesh clapped against yours as he rutted into you. Deeper, faster. You slapped at his arm with one hand as your other remained planted on the desktop. You were on tiptoe as you orgasmed, barely muffling it as you bit down on your lip.

“That’s it,” He purred. “That’s it. Oh, kitten, I don’t think I can handle much more. Can you?”

He sped up again and your knees buckled dangerously. His arm tightened until he was choking you entirely, drawing you flush against him. You grasped at his arm and he pushed you closer to the desk until you were pressed to it. The soles of your boots, the only clothing still left to you, slipped on the floor and you came again as you fought for air.

“Ah, here I go.” He grunted.

He slammed into you as his other arm hugged your waist and he lifted you off your feet with his final thrusts. He spilled into you and slowed. As he still, he sighed and his arms loosened just a little. He turned you and rested against his desk, still inside you. 

He drew you into his lap as he slid back and bent his head against your shoulder. His hand fluttered along your cunt, hovering over it as he caught his breath.

“I’ll tell Bucky to leave you alone,” He muttered. “And you will do the same.”

[calpalirwin]

Think of Me

Summary: You hope the war doesn’t make Bucky forget about you. 

A/N: I’m deep in my T-Swift phase again. Deal with it 😎

Word count: 3k

And away, and away we go!

__

You made pleasant conversation with the bartender as you sat on your stool. “You think this is the night a handsome man finally asks me to dance?” you pondered aloud.

“If they do, will you stop bothering me?” Charlie asked in a playful tone.

“What would you do if I wasn’t here bothering you?”

“Probably my actual job before the boss fires me.”

You laughed, then sighed, drumming your fingers on the bartop. “Seriously though, Charlie. Is it me? You would tell me if it was me, right?”

The bartender shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think I’m qualified to answer that.”

“Well, why are you friends with me?”

“You tip well.”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned, throwing your straw wrapper at him. 

“Look, it could very well be that you’re the only dame in this place talking with the bartender. That doesn’t exactly make a fella feel confident in approaching you.”

“Oh, so it’s you? Good to know,” you laughed again.

“I am very intimidating,” he winked, puffing out his chest as his eyes spotted a man walking your way. “But apparently not intimidating enough,” he whispered, nodding his head behind you before going down the bar to help another customer. 

“Charlie!” you hissed as someone behind you cleared their throat. “Excuse me, miss?”

You turned on your stool to look at the stranger. He was dressed simply in a crisp button down shirt tucked into dark dress pants, a suit jacket draped over his arm. His brown hair was cut neatly atop his head, and his face was clean-shaven, giving you an unfiltered view of his strong jawline. Soft blue eyes searched your face as they waited for an answer, equally soft pink lips parted slightly on a perfect mouth. “Yes?” you asked, smiling at the man.

“I was wondering if you’d care for a dance.”

“With whom?”

“Me?” he asked, pink dusting his cheeks.

“And who’s me?”

“James,” he introduced, offering you his hand.

Instead of shaking it, you used it to rise to your feet, pulling him towards the dance floor.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughed, happily trailing after you. “Do I get to know your name, pretty girl?”

“Let’s see how well you dance first, James,” you winked, spinning slightly to face him, looping your hands behind his neck.

James rested his hands lightly on your hips, guiding the both of you to the beat of the music the band was playing.

“So, James,” you said, tilting your head upwards to look at him. “This isn’t a pity dance is it?”

“A pity dance?” he questioned in confusion.

“Well yes. It’s quite strange, after all. I complain to Charlie about how much I’d like for someone to ask me to dance, and suddenly you appear? Tad coincidental, isn’t it?”

“It is because I can assure you of two things. 1.) I don’t ask girls to dance out of pity. 2.) I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage for the better part of an hour, from where I was sitting over there,” he nodded his head towards a booth near the back of the bar, “so there’s no way I could’ve heard whatever you were talking to Charlie about.”

“Good,” you decided, liking his answer. “You should ask me to dance more often,” you added as the song ended and you unlooped your hands from his neck, his own hands staying on your waist.

“Will you tell me your name if I do?”

“Y/N.”

“Keep dancing with me, Y/N.”

~~~

You kept dancing with James right up until the night before he left for basic training. “I’m gonna miss you, James,” you told him, as you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat mark time.

“3 months will go faster than you think, and we can write all the time.”

“3 months, and then you go off to war for God knows how long.”

“But I’ll get furloughed for a bit before I leave. And then we can keep writing to each other.”

“You won’t forget about me will you?”

“How could I forget you when you’re all I ever think about?”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you looked up at him, “You really think of me?”

“All the time,” he nodded.

“Thinks about you, talks about you. It’s all Buck does,” Steve teased from his seat nearby, causing the three of you to laugh.

“Buck,” you repeated, the nickname foreign on your tongue no matter how often you had heard Steve call James “Buck” since you met the smaller man. “I don’t think I could ever call you anything other than ‘James’.”

“That’s fine. I like it when you call me ‘James’.”

“That’s a high compliment considering he usually hates being called ‘James.’ Makes him feel like he’s about to get into trouble.”

“Cuz usually when someone’s calling me ‘James,’ I am in trouble.”

“That’s because you are trouble,” both you and Steve told him.

“Mmm, but you love me that way,” James told you specifically.

“That I do,” you agreed wholeheartedly.

“3 months,” he promised. “3 months and we’ll be right back here. And until then I’ll be missing you like crazy, and thinking about you every day.”

“You better, James Barnes.”

“How could I do anything else? But you two gotta promise me something.”

“Anything,” you nodded while Steve answered with “Promise what, Buck?”

“That you’ll look after each other for me. And that you won’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“That’s two promises,” you pointed out while Steve asked, “How can we when you’re taking all the stupid with you?”

James laughed. “I’m serious. Look after each other and nothing stupid. Promise me.”

“We promise.”

~~~

Dearest James,

Hope basic training is treating you well. Things are going okay here. Steve won’t admit it, but he misses you a lot. We still go to Charlie’s Bar, but without you it doesn’t feel the same. Even when Steve tries to be nice and asks me to dance. But dancing’s not the same if it’s not with you. Hope you’re thinking of us.

All my love,

Y/N

You pressed your lips to the paper, staining it with a lipstick mark, before sealing the letter.

Dearest Y/N,

It’s hot and miserable here. And there’s no pretty girls to dance with. At least you have a dancing partner. Although, I wouldn’t recommend dancing with Steve. Don’t tell him, but he’s lousy at it. But lousy dancing is still better than no dancing, and even if it’s not the same, you should try because I know how happy dancing makes you. Just be sure to save me a dance for when I get home.

Thinking of you always,

James

You inhaled the spritz of his cologne that clung to the letter, clutching the paper tightly in your hands.

~~~

You sat quietly next to Steve in the dark movie theater, watching the advertisement for the war on the screen. “Who cares?” a voice a few rows up scoffed at the screen. “Play the movie already.”

You and Steve shared a look, and you shook your head as Steve leaned forward slightly. “Hey, you wanna show some respect?” he asked in a whisper.

“Let’s go! Get on with it! Hey, just start the cartoon!” the man continued to yell, causing more people to look his way.

“Hey, you wanna shut up?” Steve tried again, making his voice louder.

The man rose from his seat, turning to look at you and Steve. “Steve, don’t,” you pleaded.

“You wanna take this outside, pal?” the man asked.

“I’d like for you to go outside, so I can watch my movie in peace, yes,” Steve answered.

“C’mon, tough guy, let’s go then.”

“Steve!” you hissed as both men headed for the exit. Reluctantly, you got up to follow. “This has just been a misunderstanding,” you tried to defuse, shielding your eyes from the sunshine outside the theater. “Let’s just all go back inside a- Oh!” Your sentence ended abruptly in a gasp as the man punched Steve square in the face, sending him clattering into some trash cans cluttering the alley. “Okay, that was unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” Steve told you as he staggered to his feet, raising his fists defensively. “Go back inside.”

“You should listen to your boyfriend, sweetheart,” the man sneered, hitting Steve again.

“We’re friends,” both you and Steve said, as Steve grabbed a trash can lid to use as a shield. “And you’re both being ridiculous. You were being very rude inside, and all my friend did was ask you to stop. There’s no reason for you to h- Oh, my God!” you shrieked in outrage and shock as the man ripped away the trash can lid and hit Steve for a third time.

“Your friend just doesn’t know when to give up, does he, sweetheart?”

“Says the man who just hit him three times for no good reason!”

“I can do this all day,” Steve panted, blood smeared in the corner of his mouth from a busted lip. He raised his fists, taking his own swing at the man who easily blocked it and hit Steve for the fourth time.

As Steve fell face first into the trash cans, you shrieked again, hoping someone could hear the disagreement and could offer some help.

“Hey!” A man in a soldier’s uniform came jogging down the alleyway, grabbing the man by his bicep and pulling him backwards, away from Steve. “Pick on someone your own size.”

“James!” you cried out happily.

“One second, doll,” he told you as the man took a swing at him and missed. James wasted no time in hitting the man back, then kicking him as he hobbled away. “You know, sometimes I think you like getting punched,” James told Steve, helping the smaller man back onto his feet.

“I had him on the ropes,” Steve said.

“No, you didn’t,” both you and James chuckled.

“When did you get back?” Steve asked.

“This morning. Was on my way to Charlie’s Bar when I saw neither of you were home.”

“When do you go back?” you asked.

“Can I get a proper hello first?” he asked, flashing you a smile.

“I’ve missed you,” you confessed, crashing into him, and feeling his arms wrap around you tightly.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“How long do we have together?”

“I ship off to London next week.”

You sighed, your body slumping against his.

“Hey,” he soothed. “C’mon, don’t do that yet. We have a whole week first. Let’s make the best of it, hmm?”

“Okay,” you sniffed, giving him a nod. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl,” he beamed proudly. “Now c’mon. You owe me a dance. And an explanation for why you let Steve try to fight a man twice his size.”

“I tried to stop him,” you giggled, as you and James broke the hug, but he kept one of his arms still wrapped around.

“She did,” Steve agreed, coming to your defense. “But, that guy was out of line.”

“He was,” you confirmed. “Very rude.”

James chuckled. “What am I ever gonna do with the two of you, huh?”

~~~

While you and James spent every spare second of the week together, you found yourself wishing for more as you stood on the pier with him, the ship waiting to take him away. “Promise you’ll write when you can,” you said sternly as your bottom lip quivered.

“Of course,” he promised, his hands cradling your face, thumbs catching the stray tears as they fell.

“And that you’ll think of me all the time, and you’ll-” the words spilled from your mouth, before a sob broke free.

“I’ll come home,” he whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna want to dance with my favorite girl when I come back. So you save me a dance, okay?”

The foghorn from the ship went off, signalling it was time to go. “Come home to me, or so help me, James, I swear-”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead, before looking over your shoulder at Steve. “Look after each other for me.”

Steve nodded, as you pressed your lips into James’ “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.”

“I love you too, my favorite girl,” he said, giving you a searing kiss.

~~~

The letters were further and farther in between as James traveled with his regiment across Europe, which you supposed was the for the best as it meant he couldn’t tell how much you actually cried over him.

It got worse when Steve left in James’ footsteps, finding his own way to join the war effort despite all his rejections.

Brooklyn never felt so lonely, and passing Charlie’s Bar was a painful stab in your side. So you packed what few belongings you had and moved out of state, and away from the familiar streets that reminded you of him. You had the thought of writing a new letter, to send it that last address you had for James, so he would have your new one as well. But remembering how your last letter had gone unanswered, you didn’t wait to feel the hope and disappointment of waiting for the mail.

You settled into your new James-less life, the memories of the single summer you had shared living both in your head and in the shoebox of letters under your bed.

It was hard not to find it all bittersweet. A 4 month long affair spent mostly apart, but the nights spent dancing, or laying against his chest were still the best moments of your life. The greatest love story of your life with no clear ending. And as much as you moved on, you didn’t, still clinging on to the hope that’d he keep his word of coming back to you. After all, he’d always kept his word before.

When the war drew to a close, and stories of soldiers coming home started covering the front pages, you packed your things again, and moved back to Brooklyn. As you settled into your old apartment, you made yourself a promise that you’d give it a year. If you and James didn’t find each other after that, then you’d leave Brooklyn and never look back.

Part of you felt foolish as you walked the old familiar streets to James’ old apartment, a final letter clutched in your hand. There was no guarantee he was home, or even if this was his home anymore. Still, it was one of three places you trusted that he would go to if he had returned home.

You walked up to the familiar door, rapping lightly against it as you pushed the letter through the mail slot. You waited for a beat, listening for footsteps. Hearing nothing, you turned around, almost knocking into a man carrying a bag of groceries as you left the building, and headed for Charlie’s Bar.

“Y/N?!” Charlie called out in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

“Hi, Charlie,” you said, taking up your old seat on the stool at the bar. “How have things been?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Pouring drinks, and watching folks fall in love. I heard you moved out of Brooklyn after Buck and Steve headed to Europe.”

“I did. Just moved back the other day.”

“Forever hopeful, huh?”

“He found me here once. Think he can do it again?”

“Worth a shot.”

Meanwhile, after sidestepping a woman who almost knocked into him, James set a bag of groceries on his counter. Not remembering hearing his door click shut properly, he went back, noticing the white envelope on his floor. Frowning, he picked it up. Then, he stopped breathing as he recognized the looped scrawl of “James” decorating the back of the envelope. With shaking fingers, he tore it open.

Dearest James,

When you think of dancing, I hope you think of my favorite song. Maybe you’ll turn your radio on, and it’ll take you back to that place. I hope it does.

When you think of happiness, I hope you think of that little black dress, and my head on your chest.

Mostly, I hope you still think of me the same way I still think of you.

Am I still your favorite girl?

Y/N

The stamp of your lipstick was placed next to your name. James blinked, having to read it a second time, not believing it the first time. Then, he was cramming the letter in his pocket and running out of the apartment, and across Brooklyn.

First he went to your apartment, knuckles rapping wildly against your door. “Y/N! It’s me! It’s James! C’mon, answer the door!” he called out, chest heaving as he continued to pound on the door.

The door next to yours opened instead, and a woman that wasn’t you looking at him curiously. “Everything alright, sir?”

“The girl who lives here. Have you seen her?”

“She left about forty minutes ago.”

James slammed his fist into your door, swearing under his breath. “C’mon, Y/N, where are you?” he asked himself, begging his mind to give him the answer. The letter! The place! What was the place? Think, think! “Oh, please still be there,” he prayed, before he took off running again.

James was sure his heart was going to jump from his chest as he pushed open the door to Charlie’s Bar, palms resting against his thighs as he doubled over to catch his breath. When he straightened, he was hit with a wave of deja vu, spotting you sitting on your barstool talking with Charlie, your laugh ringing out. With a breathless grin, he walked over. “Excuse me, miss? I was wondering if you’d care for a dance.”

“With whom?” you asked, turning to take James in, a playful smile on your face as tears glistened in your eyes.

“Me?”

“And who’s me?”

“The man who’s always thinking about you because you’re his favorite girl.”

“I’ve missed you, James.”

“I’ve missed you too, doll,” he said, grabbing your hand in his. “Now come dance with me.”

__

Tag List

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[harryspet]

good girl. bad habits. [1] peter parker

[Warnings] alpha!peter parker x omega!reader, omegaverse, boarding school au, dystopian au, soultmate au, spanking, teacher/student, physical abuse, misogyny, plot now/porn later 

A/N: warnings should be explanation enough! this is probably going to have two parts :)

POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which you’re forced to attend a school for Omegas and you meet an Alpha that’s destined to shake up your world. 

word count: 4.2k

main masterlist

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone​ @buckysugar​ @yanderepeterparker​ @ttqueen05​ @belleknows​ @write-from-the-heart​ @sad-ed-noise​ @quaksonhehe​

Wanda grabbed your hand, examining your nails with wide eyes, “Where did you get nail polish?” She whisper-shouted, trying not to draw attention to the two of you in the large auditorium. There were rows of girls surrounding you, all of them lacking any sort of individuality because of the stupid dress code. 

“I traded for it,” Wanda raised an eyebrow and you sighed, “I’m doing her homework for Mr. Rogers for the next week. Worth it, right? Red looks good on me.”

Wanda gave you a disapproving look but you were quite used to it, “Trading?” Wanda scoffed, “You make it sound like we’re in prison.”

You only frowned, folding your hands in front of you, “That’s the only word I would use to describe it.”

Before Wanda could argue, the deafening sound of a microphone blasted through the auditorium, signalling that the assembly was about to begin. Mistress Romanoff stepped onto the platform, wearing her usual striking red hair and a black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. All the male teachers lusted for the Beta woman but you only felt jealousy. You wished your uniform skirt hugged your curves rather than dropping to your knees. 

She carried the mic with her, clipboard in hand that held the contents of the meeting. It was the crack of dawn and you were running on little sleep but that wasn’t anything special for you. If you wanted anytime to yourself, you had to utilize the time after midnight which meant you often forgoed sleep. 

“Good morning, ladies,” She addressed you all, her face lacking a smile or compassion, “You’ve already completed two months of the semester. A majority of you are passing your classes with flying colors. I hope you finish the semester just as strong as you started it ….”

That two months felt like a year to you. You’d spent the summer in a detention center and you were apparently “lucky” to be sitting here instead of there. In reality, you preferred the girls at the detention center over this school because they at least had spines. The girls here were mindless followers just hoping to please whatever men they had in their lives. 

“As you all know, at the Stark School, our most popular event is the Halloween Ball. You know, a select few girls are chosen to attend based on merit as a reward for a job well done. This year, I have spectacular news concerning the event that I think all of you ladies will be glad to hear,” There were impatient, excited whispers that roamed over the crowd. You witnessed Wanda whispering something into the ear of the girl beside her. You only yawned, waiting for the assembly to be over, “This year, a select few males from the Asgard School for Alphas will be in attendance-”

Mistress Romanoff was interrupted by an overwhelming reaction from the crowd which consisted of loud squealing and gasps, “Ladies, please calm down. I know you’re all excited but don’t be too rash. There are still several weeks until the Ball. I would advise you all to be on your best behavior and to get your grades up if you want to be considered.”

You wanted to vomit in your mouth. The male teachers were worse enough. Being around young, Alpha males sounded like a complete nightmare. Wanda was freaking out beside you but you had tuned her out. With your current grades and disciplinary record, you’d end up at that Ball when hell freezes over. 

+

You should’ve known that the Halloween Ball would consume everyone’s conversation for the rest of the day. It seemed you were the only one in the entire world that didn’t care. Except for Wanda, you didn’t really have any friends here and today was only adding to that isolation you always felt. 

“Let’s go off script today and talk about our goals and aspirations. I often get a lot of questions from you all about advice on the plans for your future. This isn’t exactly Omega history but I figured we could use history in order to help guide us …”

As you sat in class, your eyes weren’t on the board in front of the class but out the window. The school consisted of long corridors, tall ceilings and tall windows. The ancient building sat in the middle of a forest in an area that you did not know. After the judge decided where you’d spend your senior year, they drugged you and brought you here. 

You were only half listening to Mr. Rogers as he gave today’s lecture. The paint on your nails was far more interesting. Besides that, you hated how people only raised their hands to agree with him. Looking across the room at Wanda, you could see how in love she was with him. 

“Throughout history, we see Omegas taking on a softer and more gentle role in our society, especially in females. Omega females are natural nurturers as well as natural followers. Can someone tell me why this is unlikely to change?”

You rolled your eyes as someone raised their hand, “It’s because it’s in our nature. It’s how the Goddess created us.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Rogers agreed with a smile, “There are leaders in our world and then there are followers. Both positions are equally as important. You can’t have one without the other,” You’d heard this type of lecture a million times and most of the girls at your school gobble it up, “There are a lot of options for omega females. After you meet your mates, the possibilities essentially become endless. There are many nurturing and low stress jobs. I know many Omegas who are secretaries, florists, and even preschool teachers. Most become homemakers and motherhood is the absolute most important job an Omega can have.”

You couldn’t hold in your scoff but, as soon as it left your lips, everyone’s head turned towards you, “What?” You asked no one in particular but to show that you didn’t want to be stared at. 

“Miss Y/L/N, is there something you would like to add to the discussion?” Mr. Rogers asked and, although he was beginning to make your heart race, you only crossed your arms. 

“No, thank you,” You spoke simply. 

“I apologize if I’m boring you but this is a pretty important topic. Why don’t you tell the class your aspirations for the future,” You expected for him to move on but the Alpha seemed to focus in on you. You hated the feeling that crawled under your skin when you looked into his eyes. It was a force, a wall between the two of you to remind you that you were not equal. 

“I’d like to be mate free, far away from this school, and on a beach somewhere rolling in cash,” Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, eyes widened, and the tension grew thick, “Consider it a five year plan.”

“And you expect to make money how?” Mr. Rogers began to pace in front of his desk, an annoyance in his glare towards you.

“I don’t know but hopefully I’ll make more than a teacher,” You grinned. 

Steve stiffened and you saw Wanda look over her shoulder to you. “Stop it,” She mouthed to you. 

“I’ll just move somewhere else. Somewhere they don’t treat Omegas like second class citizens.”

The class erupted in gasps and, for a moment, you felt quite powerful, “Stand up, right now,” Mr. Rogers snarled. You did as he said, knowing you wouldn’t be able to disobey a command. 

You reached down to grab your backpack, “I know, I know … to the Head Mistress’s office,” You rolled your eyes. 

“No, leave your things,” That made you pause and you looked up to see a smirk on his face, “Come up to the front of the class, Miss Y/L/N.”

You let your bag drop to your side with a thud. Everyone around you was still whispering and staring. You felt that power drifting away as you made your way down the aisle and towards the front of the classroom. Skirt too high on your thighs, nail polish on your hands, and an attitude on your face that you were struggling to maintain. 

You stopped a few feet in front of your teacher before he said, “Hands on the desk,” He ordered you. You huffed out a sigh, every bone in your body telling you to obey. You walked past him, putting your hands down on his desk which left you slightly bent over with your backside exposed to the room of forty girls. “This, young ladies, is important for all of you to see. There will always be some who resist their true nature and who cause disruption.”

You heard the sound of him removing his belt from the waistband of his pants and your body cringed. 

You’d heard that things like this happened often here. You heard the head mistress had a secret closet of tools she used on disobedient omegas. You’d never heard of a Professor disciplining a student in front of an entire class. 

You wanted to scream and shout but decided that remaining stoic would save you the most embarrassment. Even as he lifted your skirt, you didn’t say a word, only shut your eyes tightly, “Whatever career path you choose, your mate will have to approve. This is not because you are second class citizens but because your mate will know what’s best for you. Ranks are ingrained within us and, no matter how much we fight it, we still end up in positions like you. If we only stayed in our lanes, others wouldn’t have to enforce their rank.”

The first slap of the belt burned badly. You couldn’t help but cry out as your knees buckled together and you tightly gripped the wood of the desk. 

He kept going, forcing the class to count along as he completely bruised your bottom. He stopped at fifteen but, by that time, tears were already streaming and you were silently weeping.

+

The next few weeks passed in a blur with your usual routine of going through your classes like a zombie and listening to Wanda’s ramblings. Like a lot of girls, Wanda already had an Alpha with his eyes set on her. Bucky Barnes, an older man and well respected Alpha had already staked his claim. Wanda’s current mission was to have as much fun and attention that she could before being forced to settle down. 

You started to notice how Wanda’s usual group of friends was dwindling as she continued to sit with you. Although she often disagreed with your mentality, she still stayed which was more than anyone had ever done for you. 

“Are you really going to run? Escape?” She asked in a whisper as she discussed the forbidden topic. 

“Why would I stay? No Alpha will want me. Not even a Beta would,” You only shrugged, stirring your spoon around your bowl of soup.

“That’s not true,” Wanda insisted, “You just …. you just have to adjust a little more. I think you could be happy eventually if you just played the part for a little while. An Alpha could offer you security.”

You shook your head, “I don’t like the cost. I think I’d rather scrub toilets for the rest of my life.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at your words, “I don’t think you would, Y/N. There’s got to be a part of you, deep down, that wants the stability.”

You didn’t answer the question and you didn’t allow the thought to stay on your mind, “Don’t worry about me, just enjoy your dance. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find another Alpha and you can watch them fight over you.”

Wanda smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes, “That does sound wonderful, doesn’t it?” Not long into your conversation, you felt a tapping on your shoulder and a woman telling you that you’re needed in the head mistress’s office, “What did you do now?”

“Nothing,” You said immediately, grabbing your things, “You can have my pudding cup. I’ll see you after last period.” Wanda only nodded, a look of worry on her face as you were escorted away. 

The woman, who you assumed was some type of secretary, advised you to fix your appearance. The Stark School was like an old castle with vast hallways and tall ceilings of stained glass. Mr. Rogers told the class one time that it had been used as a fort in a war hundreds of years ago. People thought it was an interesting fact but the antiqueness of everything left you feeling creeped out most of the time. 

You arrived at her office after climbing the winding stairs of the tallest tower. Mrs. Potts was waiting by the window when you entered. You kept your hands folded, hiding the nail polish on your fingers as you waited for her to address you. She stared out of the window, out to wear P.E. classes were being held, and your eyes wandered to the large wardrobe in the corner. 

You gulped as you realized that was probably where she kept her weapons of discipline, “How are your studies going, dear?” You turned your head to find her staring intently at you, “Come, sit down.”

You moved forward, obeying the Alpha Females commands, and taking a seat in front of her desk, “Well, I’m not failing anything,” You spoke tersely. 

“I heard,” She nodded, taking a seat behind her desk. She straightened the jacket of her black suit as she folded her hands over the desk, “That’s a big improvement, Y/N. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “To talk about my improvement?” You put the word “improvement” in quotes.

“Exactly, when you first arrived you started with at least one infraction a day. Now you’re down to one a week. I can tell you’re learning and that you’re adjusting well.”

“Are you letting me out of here earlier then?” You asked, your head cocked to the side. 

Pepper only chuckled, “Here’s what I’m offering you - a chance to go to the Halloween Ball.”

“Why would I want that?” You asked.

“When the school year is over, you won’t have many options. If you get back on suppressants, you’ll be caught and end up back in the Council’s bad graces. It’s my job to help you and I don’t want to see that happen,” You could tell that she was being sincere but there was still the ulterior motive of simply getting you out of her hair, “You’ll go to the ball, maybe you’ll meet someone willing to take you in and give you something better than what you can give yourself.”

You frowned, “I’m assuming you’re not giving me a choice.”

Pepper sighed, “You have over fifty infractions, Y/N. Any other student would have been kicked out by now. Just take this chance.”

+

It was quite amusing to you watching the group of boys and girls meet each other. They both seemed to be an inexperienced group of teenagers awkwardly trying to figure things out. The girls stood on one side and the boys stood on the other for the first ten minutes of the dance before a brave boy walked over to ask a girl to dance. Now, the dance was in full swing and you were sitting by the snack table, easing your anxiety with cookies. 

Wanda loaned you a long white dress and allowed you to cut it into something off-shouldered with a slit down the side to expose your thigh. You watched Wanda who was dancing happily in a champagne pink, ruffled dress. 

The Alphas that passed you only stared, probably wondering why you weren’t bashfully batting your eyelids at them. Another thing that added to your anxiety was the energy they gave off. You could handle class with Mr. Rogers but being in the ballroom was putting you on edge. 

You sat through a few more loud pop songs before finally standing up and heading for the exit. As you made it to the door, you heard an out of breath Wanda calling for you. You turned to see her pulling a boy along with her, a look of lust in his eyes as he gazed at her. He wasn’t what made your breath hitch in your throat, it was who was behind him. 

“Y/N, this is Brad,” She gestured to the boy whose hand was interlaced with hers, “And this is his friend Peter.”

Peter. 

Something made you do a double take. You didn’t recognize him but you felt your world shift at the sight of him. You felt your heart rate increase as she felt something foreign … attraction. A kind face that didn’t match those brown eyes that screamed danger. In those few seconds where your eyes lingered on his, you questioned every feeling you’d ever had. 

“I’m going … on a walk,” You told Wanda, not addressing them. 

“Take us with you to get some fresh air,” She winked at you, knowing what you were hinting at. 

Your shoulders slumped but you nodded, “You’re lucky there’s enough in my stash.”

You turned around and pushed open the gymnasium door and led the three of them into the hallway. The four of you did your best to avoid any chaperones, dipping into a custodian's closet when you heard the tapping of heels coming your way. Like you had planned it, you switched on the light and ran your eyes over the many shelves. 

“How did you even get it?” Wanda whispered. 

They did bed checks often and a lot of the administrators were fond of combing through your dorm room thoroughly. 

“I’m cool with the janitor,” You answered simply, shrugging. As you found the empty container for disinfecting wipes, you reached in to find what you were looking for. You felt the young Alphas eyes burning into you as you presented it to the group. 

A flask. 

+

You tilted the silver container back, swallowing quickly in an attempt to not taste the vile liquid. Not meeting his eyes, you held the flask out to the side for him to take. The four of you were making your way to the lake. Wanda and Brad, stuck in their own world, had wandered ahead which left the two of you to awkwardly walk beside each other down the dirt path. 

When he didn’t take it, you glanced at him, “I don’t think that’s going to get me drunk,” He said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo. His tie was undone, hanging around his neck and the first few buttons of his white shirt were undone. You couldn’t help that your eyes lingered on the skin of his chest and he seemed to notice. He flashed you a curious look but you turned your head again. 

“Suit yourself,” You took another sip, scowling as you pulled it from your lips. 

The four of you arrived at the lake and it seemed Brad and Wanda couldn’t keep their hands off of each other any longer. After taking a big swig out of the flask, she told you that she and Brad were going to go “check out” the storage cabin where the school kept lake gear. She giggled as he pulled her away, leaving the two of you along on a picnic bench, staring out onto the eerie, dark water. 

“What’s your last name?” He asked and a part of you was frustrated that he was trying to make small talk with you. 

“You wouldn’t know my family,” You said simply. 

“Try me,” He challenged you like the cocky Alpha you assumed he was. 

“They’re dead, it’s not like it matters.”

“How?” He continued, “How did they die?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Do you always ask girls about traumatic topics when you first meet them?”

“You don’t seem like most girls I’ve met.”

“And I guess that’s an excuse?” You scoffed but his expression didn’t change. He seriously wanted to know, “They were rogues and they died like everyone else who defies the Council. Happy?”

“I’m sorry,” Was his curt response. 

An Alpha apologizing? You never thought you’d see the day. 

“What’s your last name?”

“Parker,” Your eyes widened as the name left his lips. 

“You’re … you’re Tony Stark’s nephew?” He only nodded, “And you’re saying sorry when your uncle is on the council. When he’s the reason they’re dead. That’s rich.”

“I’m not my uncle,” He stated more firmly than you expected. It took you back for a moment and the two of you stared intensely for a long moment. 

“I don’t care,” His eyebrows tightened and his lips pressed into a rectangle at your reaction, “Even if you don’t want to end up like him, you probably will. It’s a part of your nature,” You spoke, mocking the words you heard all day long in class. 

“It’s not a part of my nature to kill those who disagree with me,” Your eyebrows furrowed at his words. 

“How else will you assert your dominance, oh wise Alpha?”

He breathed deeply, sensing how you were toying with him, “A good alpha doesn’t need to kill or rely only on their strength. Alphas who lack the respect of their followers do.”

It deeply confused you that someone like him could think this way. You were quiet for a moment as you thought it over, “Are you saying Tony Stark lacks the respect of his people?”

“They only fear him,” Peter’s eyes seemed to darken even in the moonlight shining down on the two of you.

Pete watched as it clicked within your mind, “And you don’t want to be feared?” As he leaned in closer, you surprised yourself by not pulling away. You felt that same magnetism pulling you towards him, promising you pleasure, but frightening you at the same time. 

His fingers brushed against yours and a shiver went down your spine, causing your lips to part and your eyes to widen, “Control feels much better when it’s instinct. When it’s wanted and desired. That’s real control,” His voice was warm, and surprisingly calm. It made you forget for a moment and drop the walls. Your eyes roamed over his every feature, ever line of his jaw, and ever curl of his hair. 

His eyes wandered down to your lips and you suddenly snapped out of the spell. You stood up from the bench with a start, realizing how deeply you were just staring at him, “I don’t believe in those bullshit rankings,” You stated firmly and he stood up with you, trying to close the distance between the two of you, “They’re all fucking lies.”

You were about to turn away when he grabbed your upper arm. You gritted your teeth as he pulled you into him, “Believe this then. I want you, Y/N.”

“Let go of me,” Your voice was lower than you expected as you stared into those eyes. Why was your voice so weak? “You don't even know me.”

“It’s instinct,” He said, holding your firmly although his grip was tight, “And I can tell that you feel it too. Deep down, you’re searching for someone to take care of you. You want reassurance like they all do.” You tried to look away from him but you just couldn’t. “Someone hurt you badly, didn’t they?” You shook your head, tears starting to sting your eyes. “A girl like you needs someone gentle. Someone to ease you into submission rather than force it.”

You felt like you were melting into him and as his head dipped down to place his lips on yours, that voice in the back of your head was screaming to kiss him back. Your wrist pinned together between you, Peter stole your first kiss and it was a wonderfully terrifying feeling. 

You felt warmth in your core and you tightened your legs together as he began to kiss along your jaw and then your neck, surely leaving marks on your skin, “Peter …”

“Tell me to stop,” He said against your skin. 

The words were on your tongue but it was like your body had switched to autopilot. It wanted his touch and that’s all your body wanted to focus on. When he finally did pull his lips from your skin, your body was still craving that foreign touch. 

Before his hands could roam over the rest of your body, a bright light blinded the two of you and footsteps approached. Peter let go of your skin but you still felt his touch, as Mr. Rogers appeared. You only crossed your arms, looking down at your feet as the two of you were caught. 

“What are you doing out here, son?” Of course, Steve didn’t address you. 

“We wanted to look at the Full Moon,” Peter lied, “My apologies, sir.”

“Where’s Maximoff?”

“We haven’t seen her,” Peter shrugged casually. 

“I’d stay away from this one if I were you. There’s plenty of good girls worthy of your time,” Steve gestured to you but him disliking you was the least of your worries at the moment, “You can head back to the dance, Mr. Parker. I’ll be escorting this one back to the dorms.”

Peter stepped forward, walking past Steve, but he looked back to mouth something to you. 

Clear as day, you could read his lips say, “You’re mine.”

No matter the cost, you decided then that you’d run. Run from this place and from the feeling Peter gave you that made you so weak in the knees. 

+

part two