#a wild Steve POV appears!

[solarmorrigan]

Like You've Seen a Ghost

For the @steddie-spooktober day 6 prompt: Haunted Rated: T | Words: 1348 | CW: brief descriptions of blood and gore, mentions of past head trauma | Tags: pre-relationship, modern AU, ghost hunter Eddie, ghost whisperer Steve, Steve Harrington has head trauma Divider credit: @saradika

“So… are you getting anything yet?”

“Not really.”

“Well, which way should we go?”

“It doesn’t really work like that, man. I don’t sniff out ghosts.”

“Well forgive me for not knowing how your whole ‘I see dead people’ shtick works.”

Steve glances over at Eddie in the low light of the long hallway. He looks just as grumpy as he has since it had been suggested that he and Steve pair up to check the third floor of the hotel – supposedly the most haunted part of the building.

“You don’t believe I can see dead people at all,” Steve says, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“What, could you sense that, too?” he snarks.

“Nah.” Steve shrugs. “I heard you talking to Gareth and Jeff about it.”

At that, Eddie has the decency to look a little sheepish; he hadn’t had the most flattering things to say about Steve in that conversation.

It had been the rest of the team—Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver—who had pulled for this little team-up as a sort of special episode for their YouTube channel; Eddie had been against it from the start. He’d insisted that their viewers expected supernatural investigations based on scientific techniques and equipment, not some fake psychic (charlatan, actually, had been the word he’d used) who takes people’s money and pretends to see their dead relatives.

(Steve, for the record, does not take anyone’s money. Whether or not he sees someone’s dead relatives, he does it for free.)

“Uh… look…” Eddie starts, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“It’s fine, man, I get it,” Steve brushes off what likely would have been a very awkward apology. “You can’t do what you do without a healthy dose of skepticism. And it’s not exactly like I can explain it; it just kind of happens. But I promise that when or if I see a ghost, I’ll tell you to get your camera.”

“Right,” Eddie says quietly, turning back to the gadget in his hands (some of it had been explained to Steve, but he won’t pretend he knows just what the hell kind of science goes into ghost hunting).

They fall into a stilted sort of silence, Eddie scanning their surroundings with whatever it is he’s holding and Steve keeping his eyes peeled for signs of ghostly activity. He can’t say he’s thrilled to be spending the night with someone who clearly doesn’t want to be with him, but it’s really no skin off his nose if Eddie doesn’t believe in his abilities; Steve isn’t Tinkerbell, he doesn’t run on the belief of others.

He hadn’t really even meant to become– well, not famous, but maybe internet famous, at least. He’d just figured that as long as he had the ability to see and speak to the dead, he could use it to put other people’s minds at ease. People who worried about their dead loved ones, or people who were being terrorized in their own homes. Sometimes Steve could put spirits to rest. Sometimes all he had to do was tell someone that their dearly departed whoever was nowhere to be found and must be at peace.

It had sort of snowballed after one person he’d helped had told another, who’d told another, who had the ear of someone with a reasonably popular podcast, who had wanted to talk to Steve, and suddenly Steve had been getting calls for other interviews, for “psychic” investigations, and, apparently, for team-ups with some well-known ghost hunters.

“What did happen?” Eddie asks, breaking a little sharply into the silence.

“What?” Steve looks back over at him.

“You said it just kind of happens. So have you always been like this, or…?”

“Oh. Yeah, no, I got hit really hard in the head,” Steve says.

Eddie stops walking, and now he’s the one staring at Steve. “You what?”

“Got hit in the head.” Steve knocks at his temple for emphasis. “It was… pretty bad. Apparently, they thought I was dead for a minute there. But I lived—y'know, obviously—and now I get really bad migraines and I see dead people.”

“How does that even work? Like – did you cross over, or some shit?” Eddie asks haltingly, like the words are unfamiliar on his tongue.

“Couldn’t tell you. I’ve always kind of thought of it like an old TV set,” Steve says. “My grandparents had one when I was a kid, and it didn’t get great reception, but if you smacked it in the side, sometimes it would find a channel. So, I got hit hard enough that I changed channels, I guess. Now I can see things on frequencies other people can’t.”

“Shit, man,” Eddie says, blinking at Steve. “That’s actually pretty metal.”

“Thanks?” Steve shrugs, starting up their meandering walk down the hallway once more.

“I just mean, like – must make for a good story to tell, right?” Eddie tries.

“Oh, yeah. Head trauma, it’s great for dinner conversation,” Steve drawls, and Eddie winces.

“Sorry, I didn’t–”

“It’s fine, I’m screwing with you.” Steve knocks his shoulder into Eddie’s; it isn’t that Steve hadn’t been fucked up over the fight with a local bigot and bully that had nearly killed him, but that had been a while ago, now. Steve’s processed, made his peace with it – even gotten something kind of useful out of it. He’s fine. (Like, most days. Most days, he’s fine.)

Eddie rolls his eyes, but there’s also a little smile tucked into the corners of his mouth. It looks nice there – better than the snide look of disbelief from before. Whether or not Eddie does believe him now, Steve likes that he put a smile on his face.

“Hey, we’re coming up on room fourteen,” Eddie says, nodding to a door at the end of the hall.

“And that’s the super haunted one, right?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.” Eddie reaches out as they approach, turning the knob. “Story goes that a husband and wife were staying in this room, way back when the hotel first opened in the 20s, and the wife pocketed a knife from dinner, waited until the dead of night, and stabbed her husband to death in his sleep before slitting her own throat.”

The room that the door opens into is far more unassuming than the gruesome tale would have had Steve believe. It’s decorated in the vintage style maintained throughout the whole hotel, kept clean and guest-ready, but there’s something – heavy about it. Something Steve can’t quite put his finger on. He approaches the bed; he can’t imagine it’s the same mattress there from the 1920s, but he does wonder if it’s the same bedframe.

The heavy feeling is getting stronger.

“Why did she do it?” he asks, glancing around the room; he doesn’t see anything, not yet, but there’s still something–

“No one knows for sure,” Eddie says, breezing past Steve and plopping right down on the bed, bouncing a little as he sits. “Some people say he had been abusing her and she’d finally had enough. Some say he was cheating, and she was jealous. Some say she just lost her fuckin’ marbles.”

“What, just like that?” Steve asks, still glancing around warily.

“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs. “Hey, maybe if the lady’s ghost is still hanging around, you can ask her.”

Steve turns back to Eddie, and the comeback dies on his tongue.

There, kneeling up on the bed, right behind Eddie, is the wife.

It can’t be anyone but her, crimson stains running down the front of an old-fashioned nightgown, blood still oozing from the gaping wound in her neck, the knife clutched in her hand glinting silvery and slick red as she stares down at Eddie in a way that Steve doesn’t like one bit.

“Eddie,” Steve says, slowly reaching for the other man.

“What?” Eddie asks, brows furrowed as he clocks the change in Steve’s demeanor.

Steve grabs him by the arm and yanks him up, maneuvering himself until he’s standing between Eddie and the bed – between Eddie and the ghost.

“You might want to get your camera.”

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love part 2 (new steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one here Also on AO3 (where it's tragically in need of some love *sobs*) Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Chapter Two

Steve POV

Steve blinks his eyes open. Fear lurches then fades. Leaning over him, kinda blurry, are… Robin? Munson!?! He’s at home. Lying on the couch in his parents’ living room, to be precise.

“Steve? You back with us?” Robin appears wild-eyed, spooked out. She’s holding a bloodied cloth over his bat bites, which stab like new again.

Steve presses the heel of his hand to his brow, disguising his pained whimper with a shaky, “Yeeeeah.”

“Phew! Not delirious? Only a bit woozy, huh?”

“You seriously still shitting yourself about rabies?”

“To be honest, no. That’s slithered so far down my list of things to lose my mind over, I’d forgotten. Trust me, he’s as likely to have it as you now.”

Eddie, who hovers at her shoulder, pokes out his tongue, kinda jokey. The rest of Eddie’s face is still slightly blood-smeared. Haunted. His hair is a mad mess, his bandana repurposed as a bandage about his elbow. Steve glances down his own aching body, which is damp, vaguely shivery. Near naked, in fact, with a towel tucked around his waist.

Oh yeah. He went for a swim, and then… 

“Shit! Are you seriously mopping my blood with Mom’s linen napkins?” Steve tries to push himself up, and flops back down, humiliatingly fast. On top of that, his head throbs—when does it not, these days? He makes a more concerted effort to sit, forcing himself through a wave of nausea and dizziness, then notices: “Shit, shit, SHIT! I’ve bled on the couch—this cost a thousand bucks!”

“I knew there was a reason Wayne avoided white faux leather,” says Eddie, as he and Robin share a look. “Oh, and a Munson never splashes less than fifteen-hundred bucks on soft furnishings.”

“You’re hilarious,” mutters Steve.

“Your Pops can chew my head off,” says Eddie. “Some of that blood is yours truly’s. I mean, I got got bad. Really bad. And theeeeen… I got better.” He narrows his eyes to inquisitorial slits, which bewilder Steve, given how rough he feels.

Robin lifts the ruined napkin. “You’re bleeding like before Wheeler first bandaged you up. It makes no sense.”

“Nothing’s made sense for about two and a half years,” Steve points out. Actually, scratch that. Little of his life has made much sense. “There’s a first aid kit in the kitchen, with proper bandages. Where did you think I got the Hibistat towelettes from? Didn’t you morons think to look?”

Robin hurries off. Eddie takes over holding the now thoroughly disgusting napkin over Steve’s bites. “Woah, he’s not lying,” she calls. “His parents keep an actual first aid kit with actual useful crap in it.”

“Yeah, in case you forgot in the last thirty seconds,” says Steve, “the Harrington family bleed.”

“It doesn’t even come out green,” Eddie says. “Totally destroys your ‘rich folk are aliens’ theory, Buckley.”

“Haha,” snarks Steve.

“This might take a minute,” calls Robin. “I had no idea there were so many sorts of dressings. We don’t want a triangle one, huh?”

Left alone, Eddie doesn’t seem able to look Steve in the eye. He’s giving off such awkward vibes that Steve takes pity, nudges Eddie’s hand away, holds the napkin himself.

“I guess this is where I thank you for saving my life,” says Eddie.

“From what I could gather from Dustin, you’d only gone and done the same for us. Not a hero? Total bull.”

“Those weren’t normal circumstances.” 

Eddie’s so squirmy, Steve flinches away too. He’s felt drawn to Eddie for some time. He likes the guy way more than he’d expected, finds he likes looking at him too, crazy rocker tresses and all, but… Jesus Christ! Talk about shitty timing.

It’s not the first time Steve’s been blindsided by a crush on a guy. Plus, he knows Eddie is queer; he’s one of the few other friends that Robin’s lately ‘come out’ to. However, Steve’s simply not gotten the energy to figure out if the weird fizzle of chemistry he feels is all in his head. What he really wants is to stagger upstairs to bed and sleep for a week. No time for that, though. He groans, threads the fingers of his free hand through his damp hair.

 “We need to take advantage of this earthquake chaos. Get you outta town right now before somebody comes looking.”

“Yeah. I figured as much.” Eddie sighs hard. “No more facing down ferocious monsters. I return to being Eddie the Banished.”

“Not much choice, man. Look, we can bring bedding, whatever supplies we need from here. Take one of Dad’s cars and find a place to lay low till we know what’s happening and what the next plan of attack is.”

“You were worried about the couch and now you’re suggesting we jack your Pop’s wheels?”

“I don’t give a crap about the furniture—it was a dumb knee jerk reaction. I mean, things change. People change. Last time I looked, we weren’t exactly bestest buds.”

Now we’re off saving each other’s lives.

A loud crash from the kitchen slices between them. “Sorry!” yells Robin. “Kinda dropped… everything.”

“Need some help there, Rob?” Steve tries to push himself to his feet. His head rush is instant and epic; his vision blacks out, nearly taking his entire consciousness with it.

“Easy, easy!” Eddie’s arms are around him, clumsily guiding him back down. Steve whimpers before he can stop himself; his stomach churns and he feels painfully sick. Eddie wedges a cushion beneath Steve’s head, presses the cloth back to Steve’s bleeding side. “Robin’s right. You need those injuries looked at. I go alone.”

“No.” Steve snatches a shaky breath. “Way I see it, we’re both deep in the shit."

“I’m the one with the murder rap snapping at my butt, Harrington.”

“And I’m the one who’s been harbouring a known fugitive, stealing Winnebagos, and Christ knows what else. Crap, I bet they’ll blame me for Nance’s sawn-off shotgun. While the rest of those underage brats get off light, I’ll be dragged to jail as sure as you.”

“Your daddy can afford a lawyer, man.” At least Eddie’s looking at Steve now. His words still feel like a punch in Steve’s already bleeding gut—with those knuckle dusters that’d gotten lost somewhere on the ride.

Steve retaliates with as daggers a glare as he can conjure: “You wanna thank me for saving your life, Munson? Then stop trying to ditch me.”

Part 3

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

...

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, I would probably cry... in a good way, honest! Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :)

[blackwood4stucky]

hoping these roses dull the pain, cover the scars and turn the page

author: aspen blackwood

james “bucky” barnes x steve rogers | mcu

masterpost | 🅴 | 🔞 | fic word count: 4935 | complete

tags: alpha x alpha, drugged, forced sex, non con body bod, non traditional omegaverse, triggered mating, secondary gender modification, dark elements

The asset knows it is imperative to appear as compliant as possible. This isn’t a difficult task. Its handlers modified its operating levels to unfamiliar settings. It can feel the heat rising beneath its skin. It can feel the strange wetness pooling between its thighs as it lies on a bed of metal. As far as the asset is concerned, that has never happened before. - Order through pain is all the asset knows.

bingo fills + event prompts

@anyfandomangstbingo | handcuffs

@anyfandomdarkbingo | chained to a bed

@anyfandomgoesbingo | mating cycles

@anyfandomkinkbingo | fucking like rabbits

@afgomegaversebingo | rough sex

@augustwritingchallenge: april showers brings m-au flowers | loss

@badthingshappenbingo | incapable of disobeying

@buckybarnesevents: babb2023 | come as lube [jan]

@character-a-character-b: may bingo | 64: sensual creatures

@fandombingo: rpf card | loyalty kink

@fandom-free-bingo

flight edition | overstimulation + alt: refusing to fight back maritime may | omegaverse au valentine edition | sex pollen wild edition | malaise world book night edition | no remorse + alt: struggling to break free

@ficwip: level up | 3rd pov - present tense

@julybreakbingo: pre july 24 | exophilia

@kinky-things-happen | fuck or die

loversbingo

the conflict | omega’s first heat the reeling | forced helping hand the solution | can’t stop

@marvel-smash-bingo | multiple orgasms

@multifandom-flash

fear bingo | fear of ice new year’s resolution | public sex + rough sex + sex pollen

@sebastianstanbingo | multiple orgasms

@stuckybingo | kink: biting [nsfw may adoptable]

@stuckygeekevents: stucky geek bingo | confusion

stucky smut menu

trope | sex pollen character version | possessive!steve kink | public sex

@sweetspicybingo: hurt/comfort bingo | held captive

@taintedsouled: spring cleaning soot sprites | playroom: monsterfucking

@ultimatechrisbingo | right person, wrong time

@yearoftheotpevent | september: hurt/comfort

ch 2: why does it taste so bitter (when you’re the sugar that touches my lips)

read: ao3 | ffn | sqwa

mini playlist

ch 1

[skepsiss]

Long road ahead - pt 5

I might make this the second to last chapter actually because this ended very softly but without a firm direction. I like that tender things like this don't have to be definitive. Anyway, here is part 5 and the payoff for all the previous chapters. This part is not without its heartaches, so apologies, but if you like confessions I hope you'll like this. Also, surprise! A wild Dustin appears

TW: Miscommunication, swearing, and some self-hatred.

4,300+ words, Steve’s POV. 1 week and a half or so after their fight.

Pt1  Pt1.2  Pt2   Pt3 Pt4

--

He had fucked up. He had fucked up so badly.

Steve had been beside himself with sorrow and frustration for days as he went over and over the events of last week. He had been so unbelievably stupid and let his drunk brain take control. He hadn’t been able to help it–but that was just an excuse. It was all just excuses actually. But the way Eddie had been positively shining that night had made Steve feel irrational. It had made him irrational. It was so easy to get swept up into a party with someone like Eddie there who laughed freely and touched everyone he was familiar with. He had partially hung off of Steve’s shoulders and every time he came close enough to ‘rib’ Steve in one way or another–boast about him and charm the crowd–Steve had felt a bit more of his conviction waver.

It had been weeks, weeks, since Steve and Eddie had hung out and it had started Steve off on the back foot. Time apart sounded like a good idea, but the fleeting moments he had shared with Eddie in a group setting over the last month had only made him pine harder. It broke him up inside and it hurt every time Eddie turned him down when he asked to hang out. It hurt so fucking much, but each time he convinced himself it was the better, so of course he hadn’t been able to say no when Eddie asked him if he wanted to come to an end-of-the-summer rager.

God, he had been so weak and Eddie had been so fucking brilliant all night. It was like he had been apart for years and finally, Steve’s heart couldn't be contained anymore. He had let himself be reckless and he had gone and fucked up the whole night.

Steve was miserable at home by himself for days as he self-soothed the hurt away. Not only had he gone and ruined their friendship he had made Eddie straight up hate him. He had never taken rejection this badly before, but it couldn’t be helped with how long he had let this crush go. No amount of stamping his interests out had worked and then he had set fire to their foundation in one night. Less than one night… and now Eddie absolutely hated him.

He had been sworn at and crushed out, called terrible and cruel and Steve couldn’t deny that it was true. What had he been hoping would happen? Had he gone into it thinking they would kiss and then he could walk away from it all? He hadn’t been thinking at all, but something Eddie had said made him pause and it was dwelling heavily on his mind now.

Do you know how fucking badly I wanted you to kiss me all fucking summer?

He had said that--he had yelled it in his face--and after the initial shock, Steve had turned that phrasing over in his mind again and again.

It was to no avail though; what was he supposed to do with that piece of knowledge? How was he supposed to handle that and do anything with it? Was he supposed to feel regret for not acting soon or regret for acting at all? Just because Eddie had said it didn’t mean he wanted it–and it especially didn’t mean he wanted it now after all of that. He had been right to be mad, and he had been right to accuse Steve of leading him on.

Steve still didn’t think he could face genuinely pursuing Eddie, because what was worse than it not working out was the idea of Eddie accepting and risking his heart further. If he accepted that would mean… Steve couldn’t deny the fact that he was a freak too.

The doorbell rang and Steve had to muster all of his energy to pull himself up from bed. The doorbell had actually rung four more times as he slumped out of his room and down the stairs, trying to hush it with a ’yeah, yeah, I hear you’ to no avail.

Steve pulled the door open and Dustin stood there with his finger on the buzzer, making deliberate eye contact as he pressed the button twice more, giving Steve an incredulous look.

“Stop it–” Steve scolded, reaching out to swat Dustin’s hand away. He pulled back before Steve could make contact, frustration evident.

“Just making sure it works–what took you so long, huh?”

He was being a brat, acting like he owned the place like he always did and Steve didn’t have the energy to do anything else other than roll his eyes and sigh.

“What is with you, man?” Dustin asked, pushing past Steve and into his house.

“Henderson–” Steve half tried, his hand slapping lamely against his own leg as he turned to look at Dustin, “at least your shoes–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin complained, wiping his feet on the mat and then toeing his shoes off, barely stopping his stride toward the living room.

“No one else home?” Dustin asked, surveying the two closest rooms to them–the kitchen and the living room–before turning to look at Steve who was still standing with the door open.

“No,” Steve answered, exasperated as he shut the door a bit dramatically, pinching his lips and looking back at Dustin.

“Good, so what the hell happened?” Dustin asked, crossing his arms and behaving as if he was the older one here.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, picking up Dustin’s shoes and putting them properly by the front door before walking past him and into the kitchen.

“You know what I mean!” Dustin declared, following and then leaning with his chest against the kitchen island as Steve opened the fridge to get something to drink. He kept soda and juice in the fridge for if and when one of the kids dropped by–even though most of the refreshments were regularly used up by Robin when she visited.

“No, I don’t,” Steve answered, frustrated, as he poured the soda into two glasses and put one of them within arm’s reach of Dustin. He didn’t go for it right away and instead gave Steve an unimpressed look, one that could have put Robin to shame.

“Yeah, well, why is Eddie saying you guys aren’t talking?” Dustin asked, finger quoting before settling back down with his chest on the counter.

Steve visibly cringed as Dustin spoke, the glass halfway to his lips before he was forced to break eye contact with Dustin and look away. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want to hear what Eddie had been saying.

“What the hell happened? Cause from the way Eddie tells it something happened, it’s your fault, and now you guys aren’t talking. That’s bullshit, man. Just apologize!”

Steve grimaced and turned his back to Dustin, not sure if he was going to yell or cry. He wasn’t looking to sort this out and he sure as hell didn’t want to explain all of this to Dustin.

“Come on, man!” Dustin grumbled, finally standing up in order to walk a dramatic circle over towards Steve.

“If I mess up, I apologize. It happens! Ask Lucas and Mike!” He exclaimed, pointing towards the front door as if his friends were in that direction.

Steve wasn’t interested in hearing this, he didn’t want to be scolded and treated like a kid when Dustin was four years younger than him.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Steve tried, attempting to drink his soda again as he took a tentative sip, still avoiding eye contact.

“Bullshit!” Dustin hollered, his hands shooting up into the air and then letting them fall again with a loud slap against his thighs.

“Come on, man. We’re helping him pack the van today.”

Steve’s stomach flopped hearing that and he hunched forward a bit as if closing in on himself would help the uneasy feeling growing in his belly. He already felt terrible and he didn’t want to be put on a time limit to sort out his own feelings. It was so much more complicated than that.

“Come on, man…” Dustin said again, his tone much quieter and edging into desperation. The sound of his voice tore at Steve’s heart a bit, the obvious hurt and confusion that was there because he just couldn’t understand why Eddie and Steve had fought.

Do you know how fucking badly I wanted you to kiss me all fucking summer?

“He’s not going to forgive me,” Steve said finally, placing his glass down on the counter.

“Yeah, he will,” Dustin insisted, that edge of annoyance back in his tone.

“No. He won't,” Steve sneered back, holding his tongue.

His tone seemed to surprise Dustin a bit because he went quiet for a moment which allowed the eerie silence of the Harrington home to make Steve uneasy.

“Well, say it anyways,” Dustin finally said, the words simple and somehow piercing through Steve’s heart.

Say it anyways?

“Just say it anyways and mean it… and then there’s nothing else you can do.”

Steve felt his throat getting tight at the sentiment behind those words. They weren’t wise because Dustin didn’t know what he was talking about, but they weren’t untrue either. Just say it anyways. Just say it anyways.

And then there’s nothing else you can do.

Steve pinched his nose and sniffed, covering up any emotions that could have slipped through. He had been leaning with his palms on the counter and he straightened up now, looking across the kitchen at nothing in particular.

“Yeah… alright,” Steve swallowed, feeling a bit foolish for having to have Dustin give him a pep talk. Maybe he was a bit wiser than Steve gave him credit for.

“Alright?” Dustin asked as if he needed to confirm that he had heard Steve correctly.

“Yeah, I said alright,” Steve repeated, putting on an annoyed attitude to cover up the fear and relief that mingled in his gut.

“Alright then,” Dustin replied, almost shocked that what he had said worked, “we going?”

Steve was hesitantly walking towards the garage door, a bowl of keys sitting at the far end of the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, we’re going,” Steve grouched, looking back over his shoulder as he picked up his car keys and rolled them between his fingers.

“Dump that, won’t you?” He asked, gesturing towards the cups of soda that had been left on the counter.

“Dump it? Dustin repeated back, offended.

“Yeah, dump it,” Steve mocked, holding the door to the garage open.

“No way!”

As if to prove him wrong Dustin hurried back over to the glass and made hard eye contact as he tipped the drink back and started to chug. Steve rolled his eyes with annoyance, obviously becoming irritated as he waved his hand in a ‘hurry up’ motion. Why was Dustin always such a brat?

Dustin finished the glass and put it down a bit too hard before belching loudly and putting his hand to his chest.

“Oh, uh, I think I drank that too–fast,” he burped, making a bit of a sour face as he walked towards Steve anyway.

“You think?” Steve replied exasperated, pushing Dustin through the door and into the garage.

—- –

Focusing on the road had been hard as they drove the short distance from Steve’s place to the Trailer Park. Dustin hadn’t stopped talking and Steve wasn’t sure if that was to cover up the awkward silence or because he genuinely wanted to try and liven the mood. Either way, he appreciated it in part, even though he couldn’t focus on all of that right now.

No, he needed to pay attention to the road and not get so far into his own head that he turned around and went home. He just had to resign himself to being chewed out and left for dead. Dramatic, but that was how it felt. At the very least that would mean he could properly bury this crush and maybe he’d be able to cruise through life not thinking about another man ever again. It was wishful thinking and it had taken him a long time to even admit that was what was happening to him–he still thought of it as this foreign thing instead of a part of himself. That was only half true though, because the worst thing that could happen was that Eddie forgave him. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right away, maybe it would be three years down the line or even twenty, but Steve wasn’t sure how he’d feel if Eddie forgave him.

But that was all he could do. He didn’t need to theorize and implement a fail-safe for something that was out of his control.

Just apologize and mean it.

Steve slowed the car as they drove down the gravel road and into the Trailer Park. Most of the homes here were new but still unimpressive. Many of the trailers had been replaced by the government program that came to do the ‘clean up’ and the real site of the ‘incident’ was roped off farther to the south. You could still see some of the rusting, metal homes through the treeline if you went looking for it. Steve didn’t go looking for it and he didn’t know of anyone in the party that would.

Steve had trouble pulling up because there were people all over the place. Gareth and Lucas, Mike, Nancy–everyone was here and totting boxes or struggling to move a heavy, wooden dresser. Fleetingly, Steve had seen Eddie standing by Wayne’s trailer talking with Benson before he had excused himself. No doubt he had seen Steve’s car, it was unmistakable; no one else with a BMW would drive down this way.

Dustin hopped out as Steve pulled to a stop. He took a moment to breathe as he turned the ignition off, the din of voices outside making his nerves flare until he finally mustered the courage to get out of his car.

No one drew much attention to him and Steve said some quick hellos before helping load a few things into Eddie’s van. He didn’t come back outside and Steve stood awkwardly with his hands on his hips, looking at the trailer. Someone elbowed him and Steve glanced down to see Dustin giving him another one of his frustrated looks.

Steve rolled his eyes and with the motion noticed that a few other people were watching him subtly. They probably all knew to some degree that Steve and Eddie had fought and that made him uneasy, but from the looks of it Eddie wasn’t going to come back outside unless he was forced. They were getting close to finishing the packing too, so it really only left one option.

Steve cocked his hip a bit and hung his head, breathing through the anxiety quietly before counting down in his mind and just walking into the trailer. No one stopped him, and the door had been left open for moving purposes. Everyone probably knew what this was about, or at least they knew Dustin had gone to get him for this exact reason.

Steve swallowed thickly as he stepped into the trailer and looked down the dark little hallway to Eddie’s room. The door was ajar, but he couldn’t see in and he was uncertain if Eddie was in there or not. Probably. If he had to place his bets.

Steve knocked quietly on the door, pushing it open just enough to see inside and spot Eddie sitting on the end of his bed. The room was mostly empty except for his unmade box spring and a few larger pieces of furniture. It felt weird to see it like this since the room had almost always been bursting at the seams with junk that Eddie had squirreled away.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked to the knock, only glancing up before looking away again.

Steve’s stomach flopped and his grip on the doorframe tightened slightly. Eddie wasn’t a ball of rage any longer, but he still looked distressed and he was pointedly not looking at him.

Steve swallowed and stepped the rest of the way into the room, half closing the door again before taking a seat on the end of the bed with Eddie. He didn’t want to give him any reason to refuse him, but it felt rude to sit down without asking. Eddie didn’t move away though–actually, he didn’t move at all.

Steve glanced at Eddie, unable to see his expression as his hair fell in his face, but his shoulders were hunched forward and his hands were limp on his own thighs. He looked listless.

“Hey…” Steve started, his tone gentle but not pandering. This felt so awkward, he didn’t know what he wanted to say.

“Can we talk?” He asked as he clasped his hands between his knees and looked ahead. He hadn’t wanted to ask that, but he didn’t know how else to start the conversation.

Eddie just shrugged in an indifferent manner, uncharacteristically quiet.

“So...” Steve breathed, tapping his thumbs together softly, “I’ve been thinking about what you said and… I’m sorry.”

Eddie tensed and Steve noticed right away. His shoulders rose up to his ears and his once limp hands were now fisted on top of his thighs. He still wasn’t looking at Steve so he couldn’t read his expression, but from his body language alone he didn’t seem happy.

“That it?” Eddie asked as the silence drew out between them. It hurt to be spoken to that way and Steve felt his airway tightening a bit.

“Y-yeah,” Steve answered, having to clear his throat halfway through because of how strained his voice sounded. He didn’t get up though and Eddie still wasn’t looking at him as he let the silence draw out between them.

“If you need any more help… moving stuff, don’t hesitate to ask,” Steve offered weakly, pressing his tongue hard against the roof of his mouth. Eddie didn’t move and Steve swallowed again, trying to remind himself he just needed to apologize and mean it… that was it. What else could he say?

With a heavy breath, Steve finally stood up, his head almost feeling light as the tension settled over him. That was it then, that was all he could do. Eddie would just hate him for the rest of their lives.

Steve stepped towards the door, intent on leaving Eddie to his peace and just wallowing in his own emotions for the next few days. He had lived through heartbreak before, he could live through it again.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Steve stopped as he stood at the door, his palm already pressed against the cool metal of the handle. He glanced back at Eddie who still had his head turned, but he watched as his shoulder shook a bit and quiet, bitter laughter filled the room.

“You came all the way here to say that?” Eddie asked, his voice accusatory but not as punchy as it usually was.

Steve pressed his lips into a thin line, not wanting to linger if he was just going to get yelled at.

“Yeah…” Steve replied, sounding sorry as he tried to steady himself, “I’m really sorry that I hurt you.”

Eddie barked a laugh and it startled Steve a bit, his throat closing up.

“You’re sorry that you hurt me?” He repeated back, acting as if Steve had just said the most unbelievable thing in the world.

The words made Steve’s heartache though, the sentiment behind the language so drenched in distrust and pain. All he could really think about was the insecurity that he had heard in every single one of Eddie’s words when he had tried to hide his scars or ask for a ride. How secretly fragile he was and how desperately he tried to hide that part of himself until he trusted you. How Steve had broken that trust completely.

“Yeah, Eddie,” Steve replied genuinely, his voice soft as he tried to speak to that heartache instead of his own feelings.

“I didn’t–I shouldn’t have done that to you,” Steve replied, his own insecurities threatening to come through as he felt his fingers twitch against the door handle.

“Why?” Eddie asked, sounding like a child all of a sudden as he curled up into himself. He pulled his legs up, wedging his heels under himself so he was sitting in a squat on the end of the bed.

“Regret it?” He asked, laughing a little bit as if the bitter remark had instead been an attempt at levity.

Steve felt himself frown and he let go of the door finally, trying to push past the stress that threatened to steal his voice.

Just say it and mean it, and then there is nothing else you can do.

“Of course I do,” Steve replied, watching as Eddie slowly started to shake his head, obviously starting to get frustrated again.

“That was a terrible way to tell you… that I like you.”

Eddie stopped moving at Steve’s words, his shoulders slowly hunching in more as he hugged his legs to his chest. He went quiet again and Steve resigned himself to admitting that this was probably as good as it was going to get. He regretted a lot of things, but nothing more than this–

“Since when?” Eddie asked quietly, his voice almost lost to the room.

It was Steve’s turn to freeze and go silent, as he stared at Eddie. He gaped at him, unsure of what to say to that before Eddie repeated himself.

“Since when?” He asked again, his voice a bit firmer this time, but he was still closed off to Steve.

“Since when…” Steve said back to him, understanding what he was being asked but unsure of how to reply.

“Since–” Steve tried, his chest flooding with butterflies as he tried to grasp at his thoughts, “since–I don’t know–since—since you came back.”

That wasn’t much of an answer but it was as close to the truth as Steve could get. He had been pining since March, but he hadn’t admitted it to himself for months. He hadn’t even wanted to admit it to himself today.

“All summer?” Eddie asked quietly after another pause.

Steve pinched his lips together again, fighting back the torrent of emotions threatening to swallow him whole.

“All…” Steve sighed, putting his hands on his hips, “all summer.”

Eddie finally moved as he tightened his grip on his legs and turned his head so he could press his face into his knees. Steve still couldn’t see his expression past his curtain of hair, but it was obvious that he was crying.

“You’re such an—asshole,” Eddie blubbered and the sound went straight through Steve’s heart.

“I know…” he swallowed, thinking back to how many times that had been said to him over the years, “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shook his head and sniffled, not looking up as he sat there curled in on himself. Steve didn’t know what to do, so he lingered for a moment before eventually sitting back down on the edge of the bed beside Eddie.

“Not like that,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head again and vaguely peering up from under his bangs.

“Sorry?” Steve asked, confused about what was being said to him. Did Eddie want him to leave after all?

“Not like that,” Eddie repeated, lifting his face marginally so his nose was pressed between his knees. “You’re a good guy… I’m sorry… I said that.”

Steve felt his heart lurch at those words, his breath shuttering a bit at Eddie’s correction. It wasn’t forgiveness, but it felt something like that. Mercy maybe. Mercy not only for what he had done at the party but somehow it felt like mercy for the past 10 years of his life.

“I’m moving,” Eddie mumbled quietly, his eyes red, but his cheeks freshly dry.

“I know…” Steve replied, sighing quietly and glancing away from Eddie.

“So…” Eddie swallowed, actually turning to look at him properly, his nose red and eyes a bit swollen, “so, what?”

Steve looked at him with confusion again, his voice sticking in his throat as he tried to puzzle out what this question meant. Surprisingly, his confusion actually elicited a laugh from Eddie who turned away again and pressed his eyes onto the top of his knees. He sounded half-charmed, and Steve let the note shutter his eyebrows up.

“So, what does this mean?” Eddie explained further, sounding shy.

Steve sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly. He hadn’t thought about getting this far. What did this mean? He didn’t know where to go from here.

“Do we…” he waffled, his expression pinched, “do we need to have a plan?”

Eddie seemed to consider the offer before eventually answering no and then looked back at Steve.

“We can figure it out as we go… if you want,” he offered and Steve felt his entire being quake at the prospect.

Figure it out as they went? They could just… figure it out as they went.

“Okay,” Steve swallowed, feeling a smile break onto his face for the first time in what felt like months.

“Okay, okay, yeah…”

Eddie let his legs drop as he slowly put his feet back down on the ground, his head hung a bit but his expression was much softer than it had been. He looked shy and perhaps a bit uncertain, but the emotions mingled nicely into the room as they both seemed to imagine the tender possibilities of what this meant for them.

[justalonelyslytherin]

My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | One

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Pairing: secret king!Steve Rogers x heir apparent!female Reader

Summary: Steve, Sam, and Bucky start off their vacation in the remote lake town with an adventurous evening stumbling over three lost girls in the woods.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned once or twice having brunette hair for the convenience of setting her apart from her sisters, no otherwise description of her appearance, wandering in the dark in the forest, mentions of wild/dangerous animals and killers/assassins

Wordcount: 3.2k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

A/N: The first chapter is a little bit different, almost exclusively in Steve's pov. We'll switch towards a Y/N focused pov starting in chapter 2, with the sprinkle of Steve's pov here and there. the beautiful Dividers are by the lovely @/firefly-graphics

Taglist: open, will be tagged in the comments

“Everything is handled. Although I can’t promise it will stay that way for long. Enjoy your getaway while you still can.”

“Thank you Hill.” Steve ended the call, slowly lowering his arm and shoving his phone into the pocket of his pants. With a sigh, he leaned back in the car seat and looked out of the window.

“Vacation,” Sam huffed in an amused tone, eyes focused on the road he was driving on as he barely shook his head. “Can’t remember the last time I took one.” 

Steve smiled, “Me neither.”

Bucky in the passenger's seat snorted loudly. “Time you got one.”

That Steve could only agree with. And it was exactly why they were on their way. They’d been on the road for a couple of hours already, making the track from one end of the country to the other one. There was only one place Steve could imagine spending a wintery holiday just before Christmas. It was a small and quiet town, nestled between the shallow foothills of the mountains and surrounded by a bunch of smaller lakes not far away from the border. Not many people chose to visit it. 

“How long until we are there?” Bucky groaned as he shifted in his seat and stretched his arms high above his head. As high as the ceiling of the car allowed him to. Steve could hear his longest friends' joints creak through the motion.

“Not long,” Sam grumbled, glaring at the brunette before he glanced back at the road again.

“We are almost there,” Steve agreed, eyeing the familiar scenery. It warmed his heart as he spied the hints of the lake peeking through the trees. Shortly after the road curved to the left, following the outline of the lake as the town came into view.

“Wow,” Sam, whose first time it was there, exclaimed in awe. Both Bucky and Steve were equally mesmerized however much quieter. They had traveled there many times, yet the first view of the town never wasn't magnificent.

Driving through the town many heads turned as the townspeople watched them pass by. “Turn left here,” Bucky’s gruff direction came as they had passed almost entirely through the town, the Townsquare and most houses already behind them.

“Here?” Sam asked doubtfully as he eyed the small dirt road that was easy to miss. The snow covering it made the street blend into the surrounding trees so well, one might miss it entirely not knowing of its existence.

“Yes,” Steve agreed, his heart jumping in his throat as they pulled into the inconspicuous road, “just follow it.”

Leading away from the town for a good 10 minutes it felt as if their car was swallowed by nature. The road took a couple of winding turns until after the last one the trees to either side of the road parted and revealed a big plot of land. In the middle of it sat a cozy, sleepy cabin. Three stories high and big enough to house an entire little village of its own, Steve instantly felt at home.

As the car came to a halt before the double-door garage, he couldn’t get out fast enough. While Bucky went on to open the garage, Steve stepped through the snow and rounded on the cabin. Standing before it he craned his neck. Memories flooded his mind as the smile on his lips grew with each passing moment.

“I thought you said the cabin hadn’t been used in a while.” Bucky took his stand beside his friend, glancing up at the cabin too.

“I asked someone in the village to set it up for us a couple of days ago. Everything is defrosted and we got a stocked pantry and fireplace.” Grinning, Bucky looked over at Steve.

“Now that sounds like a proper vacation, even for us!” Both of them laughed as Steve shoved his friend by the shoulder.

“You could have had a proper vacation even before. No one will recognize me here.”

“Not with that mug, no.” Bucky agreed and eyed the dark hair on the blonde’s lower face. Before Steve could say something, a shout came from the garage.

“Some help maybe?” Sam had already started to open the trunk and empty out their bags. In unison, Steve and Bucky walked over to help bring their bags into the cabin.

“A fire, then a nap and food, how does that sound?”

"Ha! It's cold!” Sam shuddered as he stepped onto the veranda, closing the glass doors with his elbow as his hands were filled with three beers. Steve and Bucky, who were already sitting on two chairs with a small fire lit in a brazier out of metal and stone, chuckled at their friends' antics.

“I told you to wear a damn coat,” Bucky teased him, earning a glare. Sam gave one of the three bottles of beer to Steve and held the other one above Bucky’s head, just out of his reach.

“Yeah and next time you can get yourself your own beer, Barnes.” 

Steve rolled his eyes at his friend's quarrel. He was used to them being at each other’s throats. He also knew that it was mostly for show and deep down they both cared deeply for one another. They just were too stubborn to acknowledge it. 

Nursing his beer the blonde leaned further back in this chair and spread his knees out. The residual snow, after they’d cleared most of it off, crunched beneath his feet.

“Man, this is serene. I could get used to this view and the quietness up here.” Sam sighed as he dropped into his own chair. Two hums followed his words, agreeing with them. 

“Just laying back and doing nothing,” Steve mumbled as he glanced towards the treeline. It had gotten dark about half an hour ago, even if it wasn’t that late yet. The sun set quickly around here.

“Oh come on, you’d be bored by midday.” Bucky scoffed and looked at the blonde as he rolled his eyes. “And then Sam and I would have to hunt you down and stop you from getting into trouble.”

“Not like we don’t have to do that on the regular already.”

Steve wanted to protest, in fact, he had already opened his mouth to give them a piece of his mind when they heard a crack not far away from the forest.

“You heard that?” Sam asked as all three of them watched the darkened scenery with watchful eyes. Then another noise came from within the woods. This time, not a crack, it sounded much more…human.

Steve put his beer on the ground and stood up. Stepping onto the edge of the veranda he strained his ears. “It sounded like a person,” he mumbled. There was no third noise which seemed strange to him and without further thought, he decided to investigate.

“Steve…Hey! Steve!” Bucky shouted after him as the blonde already bounded down the steps into the garden and strode towards the edge of the woods.

“For fucks sake,” he grumbled as he looked over at Sam. Putting down his beer with enough force to crack the bottle he jumped over the railing to follow the blonde. Sam scrambled into the house to get his coat and ran after the both of them.

“You can’t just walk into the goddamn woods in the dark Rogers!”

“Without us even less Punk!”

Steve however kept marching on, paying the two of them no mind. He had a mission now. Whatever had caused the noise in the woods it must be special. The woods around the cabin were always quiet. The occasional birds or deer could be heard or seen in the mornings but they made many different sounds. Something in his gut told him to investigate the noise and Steve never went against his gut feeling.

The path he chose through the trees was unsteady and went every which way there was the most space to get to where the noise had come from. Steve stopped as he heard twigs breaking. Looking back Bucky and Sam were standing still too, Bucky shrugged his shoulders. It hadn’t been one of them then. Another crack made Steve look into the dim maze of trees until he spotted something light peeking out between them. With newfound vigor, he stepped forward when a hand landed on his shoulder. Glancing behind, Bucky glared at him and shook his head. 

Sam walked past, taking the lead. Only when he was several meters in front of them did Bucky retract his hand, “Don’t be stupid punk. I won’t hear the end of it if you manage to get yourself killed on your vacation.” 

Before Steve could answer that he wouldn’t get himself killed, shouts sounded from further ahead. Steve could distinctly hear Sam’s shout of “Whoa!” mixed with a second voice.

“Sam!” he shouted and sprinted forward as he saw his friend go down. Skidding to a halt in what was a small clearing in the snow-covered forest Steve and Bucky didn’t trust their eyes. Sam was sitting on the ground, clearly surprised but fine at first glance. Before him stood a young blonde woman who seemed as surprised to see them as they were seeing her. Her arms were still stretched out from whatever movement she had done to send Sam onto his ass.

“What the hell?!” came his exclamation as he fought to get up from the slippery ground. Steve held out a hand to his friend, pulling Sam up. Bucky meanwhile didn’t take his eyes off the strange young woman.

“Who are you?” he asked gruffly and sternly. Before the blonde could answer, more cracking of twigs resounded before two figures barged out of the trees behind her.

“Yelena! Are you okay!” The taller one of the two new women asked, her brows drawn down in concern, eyes flitting over the frame of the blonde one. 

“What were you thinking walking off?” The redhead asked her, arms crossed before her chest and scoffing. It was only after that they noticed Steve, Sam, and Bucky just a short distance behind Yelena.

Steve’s heart made a leap as the eyes of the brunette landed on him. She was pretty, he noted, very pretty. Her gaze was electrifying, rendering him unmovable as her eyes fixated on him. She moved slowly, carefully gauging their reaction, to step between the blonde and them. 

“Who are you?” Her silky smooth voice caused a shiver to ripple down his back. Steve quietly gasped at the sensation, at the way her voice seemed to penetrate every pore of his being. 

Had it not been for both Bucky and Sam scoffing and guffawing Steve would have been stuck in his daze forever. Now however his eyes jumped to his friends, who were ready to step forward and chew these girls up. He held a hand out, stopping them. Bucky shot him a disbelieving look followed by an eye roll. Subtly he crossed his arms and flexed his muscles. Steve couldn’t blame either Sam or Bucky for reacting in this way, protecting him was an automatic response neither could shake off.

“I’m Steve. This is Sam and Bucky.” Steve pointed at himself and then at the two others before he trailed off, once more getting caught in the beauty of the young woman standing before him. She looked reluctant and cautious. The unsteady flicker of her eyes between all three of them clearly showed how uneasy she was to have met them in the middle of the forest in the dark, how distrusting she was of them. In Steve it only caused curiosity to sprout. What were they doing here this late? 

“I’m Y/N. My sister's Natasha–” she pointed at the redhead, “–and Yelena,” then at the blonde she was shielding.

Only after she gave him a timid nod, he thought to elaborate. Swallowing, he mumbled, “We, uhm, we heard some noises and wanted to investigate when we came upon..” 

Yelena, who he was sheepishly pointing at, cut him off, “When they scared the living daylights out of me. I thought they were wild animals trying to attack me.” Bucky snorted amused at that.

“There are no wild animals here. At least none that are dangerous. They don’t venture that close to the cabin or the village.”

“So we are close to a village?” Natasha spoke up, her voice sounding hopeful. Confused, Steve eyed the three girls closely, they looked exhausted and frozen. He noticed the way all three of them were trembling and shifting from one foot to the other. Y/N’s hands were shaking as she curled them into fists and unfurled them over and over again. She tried to hide it, shoving her hands behind her back after she caught him looking. 

“You are lost, aren’t you?” he asked them, glancing up at her eyes once more. There was a spark in them, the brief flitting of a look that reminded him of a spooked and cornered animal. It was gone in the blink of an eye, so fast Steve thought he might have imagined it. What he didn’t imagine was the way she shifted and bit her lip, glancing back at her sisters.

Both Natasha and Yelena were tense, glancing at each other. They opened their mouths at the same time, forming the first letter of what Steve suspected would have been an unconvincing ��no’ had Y/N not spoken up first. 

“Yes,” she answered timidly, still not entirely sure if she could trust these three strange men, “We were on our way when our car broke down.”

“And you decided to walk aimlessly through the woods instead of calling a tow service or even a taxi?” Sam asked in utter disbelief. It was very cold up here, especially without the sun the temperatures quickly turned deadly. The three girls kept silent, pressing their lips together and furrowing their brows.

“You have a phone, do you?” Bucky asked them and the girls reacted the same way. “You don’t have a phone?” He asked once more, surprise evident on his face as they nodded.

“Could you point us to the village perhaps?” Natasha asked, clearly uncomfortable and done with the questioning. 

“Sure. It’s another 4 miles in that direction.” Sam was very frank and dry in his answer, uncrossing his arms before his chest and pointing his finger deeper into the forest.

“Sam.” Steve chided, frowning at him. Neither Sam nor Bucky seemed concerned or apologetic about their blasé manner, Steve however didn’t feel right treating the girls that way. Sending them on their way back into the forest when it was only going to be darker and colder into the night even if the way to the village wasn’t that long left a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

While Natasha and Yelena turned around, ready to head back deeper into the forest, and Sam and Bucky also turned around to make the short track back to the property, Y/N and Steve remained motionless. Eyes on eyes, they hesitated. Steve wasn’t sure if it was his concern for their well-being or the pull of something else that was radiating between her and him. He didn’t want to let her go. Everything in him shouted to stop her and to have some more time together, get to know her. 

What he couldn’t know, Y/N felt the same. She was intrigued by the blonde man with sparkling blue eyes, which when she looked into gave her the feeling of safety. It felt like she had known him for an eternity instead of less than thirty minutes.

Her mind had been running ever since they mentioned a phone. Before she had never thought about it but now the realization settled heavily in the pit of her stomach. They didn’t have a phone, they didn’t have money. They had nothing on them besides the clothes they were wearing. Even if they found the village, how were they supposed to pay for a room in an inn? 

Steve sensed her hesitation on top of the pull and it seemed the others had by now too.

“Y/N?” Natasha asked, having turned back around.

“Nat, we don’t have any money with us. How are we supposed to pay for a room? For anything?” They couldn’t even get the car fixed and turn back around. They were stranded. Utterly screwed up. Natasha remained silent, looking directly at her older sister.

“Well, shit.”

“You don’t have anything with you?” Y/N looked back at Steve and hesitantly nodded. He wondered just who these girls were to be stranded this far out in the country, so close to the border, with nothing in their possession. Bucky and Sam’s eyes were practically burning into the back of his head, both of them knowing exactly what Steve was about to do but neither agreeing in the slightest. 

Before he could speak up, he was pulled back by his neck. Bucky looked at him furiously, before he turned to the girls. “Give us a moment,” he told them gruffly pulling Steve further backward. A short distance away from them they huddled together.

“You can’t be offering what I think you’ll be,” Sam spoke up first.

“Yeah punk. We don’t know them. It’s not safe.” 

“What if they are unhinged hitchhiker killers? Or assassins sent by the North? Repay a debt or some of that crap?”

Steve looked back at the girls. They were standing huddled together, rubbing and blowing on their hands for warmth. He could still see them trembling, even from afar. They didn’t look like killers to him, they looked like three lost girls who desperately needed a warm place and some kind strangers to help them. His and Y/N’s eyes met as she glanced up. There was that pull again, only furthering his sure feeling that they weren't a danger.

“Look at them, Buck. They are cold and you heard them. They have nowhere to stay. We can’t let them wander in the cold throughout the night. They'd be dead before they reach the town.”

Bucky groaned loudly, “Fine punk. But they stay downstairs in the wing furthest away from your room. One of us takes the room before you and the other the room in front of the stairs at the beginning of the hallway.” Steve could live with these conditions. 

“And tomorrow morning we’ll drive them into the town and get them a hotel room,” Sam added. Steve was fine with that too and if he secretly planned to use his rank to meddle with it, then they didn’t need to know it.

For now, he turned around and strode over to the three girls. They turned towards him, three pairs of eyes curiously looking up at him, one of those which lit a fire in his stomach and made his heart do backflips.

“We are staying in a cabin just at the edge of the forest. It’s much closer than the village and we don’t charge anything. So if you’d like, you can stay the night and we’ll show you the way to the village in the morning. Work something out?” 

They looked at each other, eyes jumping back and forth, brows and mouths furrowing and curling. It reminded Steve of the silent conversations he would have with Bucky when they were in meetings or during formal functions. As Y/N turned back towards him, he held his breath in anticipation.

“We’d like to. Thank you.”

[lestappenforever]

lol checo really took thridwheeling lestappen to a whole new level in that turn 1 hjsgfkjhsgfkjshdgf

mexico gp start, charles pov: it's you and me, me and you, you and me [suddenly a wild checo appears on the left] AND YOUR FRIEND STEVE FUCK

also checo in an interview saying "I didn't expect charles to break so late" like wtf checo my man, seriously???? max pls tell your silly teammate this is exactly something he should expect from charles

and christian horner defending charles hsjdgfhdsj it's his son-in-law after all xD and checo is... that weird distant cousin...

^^^

This.

[scoonsalicious]

helo helo mother pookie, again u did not dissappoint🩷🩷🩷

Buckybaby and Major are horndogs. Six — i bet it was more than that — times? DAYYUMMM!! I like it 👉🏻👈🏻 It’s cute to see Buckybaby POV, while Major’s was so dirty 😏😂 Idk why but that’s the vibe.

bucky junior and his approval for Major.

Now let’s speak of luluwhatsoever. She’s taking advantage of Bucky’s friendship here. Bucky is a great friend, maybe Lenovo is too, however she has her own agenda, which is loving/liking him. Here’s the thing, now that Major is in her life (and soon might be permanent), Leah’s gonna try her best to seduce him (if she can) OR spouting nonsense so that Bucky is guilty (he is now) OR making sure that Major looks bad in his view by framing her (again — if she can). You know how wild/crazy woman could be for a man! (flashback cunthage)

But I have faith in this Bucky. He’s certain with his needs. Major too.

As said by our lovely Pookie, Leah is Bucky #1 only ‘girl’bestfriend, and she takes pride of that but for Bucky he might clueless and just rolls with it because well, she is his bestfriend. Lenovo is toxic, possessive, manipulative (kinda bcs she’s taking advantage), and ofc a bad friend. I feel like from the beginning it wasn’t a conquest to be’friend’ him but to be—in—a—relationship with him, but Lenovo couldn’t just force herself in his life as a ‘girlfriend’, so the only way to break Buckybaby shell was to be his ‘actual’ friend and then leeches her way in bit by bit but then Bucky will always saw her as a sister figure (which is sad but oh well Lucinta, you are not reader)

About Leah’s misogyny not liking girly girly thing, that shit is there bcs well, as a pick me girl you have to be a girl the likes baddie baddie thing ONLY (speaking like a true pick me girl connoisseur). Bucky is the wintah soldiah! He a baddie, ofc Lenovo is going to act baddie baddie too (well she’s bad at it). Plus, it’s an attack mechanism. Major is a queen, she's threatened!! Plus to make it worse, Bucky is attracted to the queen! She has to activate her pick me baddie system and show off her #1 badge. Again a pride for her but normalcy for Bucky.

NEXT, let's go to Steve. Idk if this Steve is fishy but I had a feeling this Steve is just normal. He's a good friend, AND it is normal to remind your friend 'don't rush into the stuffs'. He's not against it, he just giving advice to 'take it slow' as what Bucky said before he has all the time in the world (y'know abt Major wanna lick his lollipop junior but he wanna stick it into the tight donut first).

The reason why Steve said it is bcs Bucky starts saying the stuffs he and Major had a thing there. If Bucky didn't say it, I think Steve wouldn't say anything too except 'Im great for ya pall for having sex that is actually 6 times but yeah I'm boring so i wouldn't say that shit'.

….

I hope

….

Don't disappoint me WFLT Steve

(this is why i like dark!Steve👉🏻👈🏻)

Lastly, abt Zade and Rand, again being the good friend. It’s also normal. I mean, imagine having a real Bucky Barnes in real life sans the appearance and change Avenger to cops/military. IMAGINE. OKAY? IM MAKING THIS REALISTIC. A guy that murdered thousands of man/woman where we had zero knowledge of his history and nicknamed The Ripper/Butcher (for example😂). We didn’t know anything except in the trial he’s a friend of said famous cop/military, and now serve the country. If it were me, it sounds fishy as hell. So do not blame me to be dramatic initially because I’m not the one was getting railed by his dick.

(But ofc in fanfiction I would react differently, I mean… ITS BUCKY BARNES!!)

Anyways, that is all for today. Mother Pookie, I wuv you so much and all of your pets!! THEY R SO FLUFFY!!!🩷🩷🩷

My precious! <3

Your posts make me so happy. I can't even!

I really, really love Bucky and Major just being completely and totally head over heels for each other from the go, you know? Like, they both know they are kind of rushing into this, but they're both coming from places where they felt like they wasted enough time being unhappy (Major with her loveless marriage and Bucky being, you know, a brainwashed assassin, lol) that they just want to go for it.

Bucky Junior's approval for Major is highly appreciated, lol. He has definitely given her a standing ovation, lol.

deLulu has been a good friend to Bucky in the past, just as long as it's not involving any of the girls he previously dated, lol. She's got this idea in her head that their relationship's gonna play out like a typical best friends to lovers fan fiction or something, and that she just has to let it progress naturally. She's in love with the very idea of it, more than she's actually in love with Bucky. She wants to live that story. Honestly, the male main character in it wasn't really that important to her. She's tried it before, and it's always failed.

Lenovo (love calling her this, btw) is SO threatened by our queen, and I think it has something to do with the fact that Major is just unabashedly herself, whereas Lenovo is constantly putting up a front to try to make herself what she thinks Bucky wants. I want to try to explore this later on. So, of course Lenovo will take these elements she sees in Major and dump on them, because she thinks that it will make her look better. She is wrong. So wrong. And dumb.

I promise WFLT Steve is a Steve and not a Steeb! He's just... there, lol. No shady business on his part. Just being old fashioned and warning his bestie to be careful with his heart because he doesn't want to see him fall fast and hard and not have the girl feel the same way (he doesn't need to worry, Major is just as in as Bucky is!)

And Zadie and Rand are also coming from a place of love, for the most part. In Rand's case, it might be a little bit of "I think I know better than you," but it's mostly love. They don't know Bucky, they don't know his dick. They're just going by what they watched on Court TV or something, lol.

I love you, Pookie! Thank you so much for writing; you make my day!

[sunnysideprincess]

Had to write a sequel to this from Natasha's POV:

—-—

She doesn't remember when the name appeared around her wrist. Red and gold. Too bright. Too visible. Colors that could be spotted from miles away, Melina had told her. But then none of it mattered anymore. Not when Maria Stark found her years later, listening to Bach in front of a lonely music shop. Her belly swollen and eyes pinched with worry for a homeless child dripping blood and bits of flesh on the tarmac.

She thinks it was instinct that told Maria to take her home that night. And despite Howard's sullen nitpicking on the matter, he would never deny his wife the simple joys of braiding bright red hair into intricate, elegant buns while Natasha read Russian poetry to the unborn child.

Over the years, Maria taught her kindness, Howard taught her how to handle business and Peggy Carter taught her espionage. And later, when she ran into a sad looking war veteran dripping water and rum on her mother's carpet, he had taught her how to use her fists to fight preys twice her size.

Looking at Steve now, she reminisces about the man grieving the loss of his wife, his sudden discharge and a scorned friend. She recalls him finding catharsis in the darkest parts of hell that roamed their streets and Natasha joining him after a stray bullet erased Maria Stark's touch from this world.

Howard had no qualms about putting guns in their hands, grenades into their pockets and bullets on the table. Of all his flaws, he had loved his wife.

But Tony-Tony had been a different kind. Natasha was adopted. And Howard was bathing in blood and riches before he met his wife. They knew Maria's kindness and her sweetness. They knew Maria did not belong with their lot. Tony didn't either.

Didn't stop him from trying though. And god as witness, Natasha knew her brother could be vicious when the world demanded him to be. But- "He wears his heart on his sleeves," Howard had said once and she agrees.

He was his mother's son, through and through.

The last bit of Maria left in this world. A part of the woman who saved Natasha. A part of the woman who loved a Red Room reject.

He's a boy, just a boy who Natalia Alianova Romanov Stark has pledged to protect.

And someone tried to carve a hole in his skin. Someone tried to take her brother's heart.

Someone was going to die for that.

The sound of her stilettos alerts her audience. Steve nods at her, eyes hard and alert all at once. Tony blinks slowly, having a hard time catching up to his surroundings due to the drugs. The bandages around his chest are new. Bruce took care of it himself. She'll remember to be grateful when she allows herself to feel anything other than rage and melancholy.

"I found a guy," she tells Steve and watches him go still with his fingers still tangled in her brother's hair.

"An informant?"

"A sellout."

The Captain nods and lets go of Tony with a final caress.

"When do we leave?"

"Now."

Tony opens his mouth, eyes a little wild when he looks at Natasha. She already knows what's he going to say.

"Nat, Nat-"

"Be home soon, Tones."

Steve ducks out of the room, busy with the trusted glock, eyes averted towards the door like he's guarding it. Guarding them.

"DON'T -Don't go. Don't go, please."

"I have to, Tony. We need to know where this ends."

"And what if you..." He stutters and stops, eyes growing heavy and misty. He looks small, smaller with his head held low and shoulders hunched as if burdened by a greater pain. It hurts when all Maria ever taught them both was to keep their head held high.

"You're all that's left of-" He reaches out, choking on the words and it's years upon years of instict that makes her limbs thaw.

"You're all I've got."

He trembles in her hold, hiccups and sobs. Silent. So silent in his grief after three weeks of torture and a chest wound that hinders his breathing.

Natasha is meant to reassure him. The little boy wonder who came to Nat about his first tattoo, his first piercing, his first kiss.

She is meant to remind him of her presence in his life.

But in this moment, when her mark burns, all she thinks about is Steve. His hungry eyes never leaving Tony alone. How they were both draped around each other moments ago. She thinks about her team. About Bruce patching the wounds of this golden Prince even though he isn't that kind of doctor. About Sam cooking soup for the anemic in their midst. About Clint reaching out to his shadiest contacts. And Thor reaching out to his estranged brother.

She thinks about this broken, extended family she has grown to love and work with and smiles, only a little.

"I won't be once we're done with this."

[stevethehairington]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

(some of) my wips:

1. of all the gin joints 2. wayne pov part 3/part 4 3. rings 4. mermay shenanigans 5. steve can't bake 6. bb fic/stobin zine (putting these on here as a bonus bc they're both technically behind lock and key!! but you can still yell at me to work on them!!)

snippet from mermay shenanigans (it's a short one but that's all i've got for it so far!)

There he is. Steve hugs himself closer to the boulder he’s hiding behind, cheek pressing uncomfortably into the jagged rock as he strains to catch a glimpse of the familiar speck moving along the beach. As the speck moves closer to the shoreline, the details grow clearer, sharper. Steve can just begin to make out the bare feet trampling through the sand; the jeans rolled at the bony ankle; the taper of the man’s waist and the broad shoulders above it; the wild hair curling free around his beautiful face. The bound black object clutched to his chest, just as it is every time he makes his appearance here.

ik i literally just did one of these on sunday but it's actually wednesday this time so!! feel free to participate or to just ignore this! up to you!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

tagging some pals (sorry if you've already been tagged lol), but if youre not on here and you see this then consider yourself tagged anyways!! feel free to hop on the bandwagon!!

no pressure tags: @withacapitalp @toburnup @pizzaqueen @riality-check @hexiewrites @maxineholtzmann @maxinemaxmayfield @2btheanswertothequestion @stevecarrington @harmonictechnicality @letterfromvienna @cheatghost @fastcardotmp3 @sidekick-hero @legitcookie @steveshairychest @strawberryspence @henderdads @yournowheregirl @wynnyfryd @steddielations @aidaronan @eddiehashands

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Wip Wednesday

Subconscious (Steve’s Story)

Summary: Steddie Canon compliant/fix-it fic paired with a corresponding story in Eddie’s POV, each chapter happens in tandem with the other. No matter what he does, no matter who he is with or what is happening in the aftermath of their failed battle with Vecna – Steve Harrington can’t stop thinking about Eddie Munson. He’s even begun to see him in his dreams…

(unbeta'd snippet from Chapter 02; picks up after Steve had his first dream about Eddie that felt like he was really with Eddie. (Spoiler: he was.) He doesn't remember it very clearly, as most people do who dismiss their dreams as fictional creations of their subconscious, but that doesn't mean it isn't haunting him still. Even weeks later.)

–

After that night, the nightmares come back with a vengeance.

Steve wishes he could say that Eddie didn’t appear in any of them. To be fair, he doesn’t actually dream about Eddie Munson all that much. But the few times he appears there during that month of June, it’s nothing like that first night when he turned from his window and Eddie had been in his room. Dark eyes and wild hair, a tilted smile and his hand on Steve’s wrist. Every bit of him more vivid than anything else in the room.

That’s one small difference, with the nightmares. Eddie is there but the details don’t stand out so glaringly. It’s less about his face, or his words or mannerisms. Mostly because the dream doesn’t allow that to be the focal points. No – all Steve can focus on is the terrifying amount of blood, the vicious wounds, the screeching bats, the way Eddie’s chest doesn’t move or how empty those dark eyes look as they stare off at nothing. And more often than not, Steve wakes up swearing to God that he can hear someone screaming. Not him. He knows it’s not him. His neighbors would have called the damn police if he’d woken up screaming. The houses weren’t far apart enough that someone wouldn’t hear him. Small comforts.

So Steve’s terrible sleep schedule actually slides downhill pretty damn fast. It wasn’t great to start with. After a couple weeks, it really starts to grate on his nerves – and it doesn’t help that everything electronic in his house is on the fritz. It must have something to do with the giant interdimensional rift downtown, but it still shifts from an annoyance to a hindrance pretty damn quick. The lights, the radio, the TV white noise is so eerie Steve fucking unplugs it.

And then, his hair dryer stops working. It turns on fine, but almost immediately after it starts to exert more and more power until it blows a fuse and nearly catches on fire in his hand. Because of _course_ it did! Steve might have shouted into the emptiness of his bathroom some very colorful words at whoever the fuck is messing with his hair dryer. Do they have no decency? Can’t he keep one thing to pride himself on in this fucked up town?

He considers calling an electrician, but it’s not like there’s probably one within 20 miles of Hawkins that would be willing to help. He’d ask Hopper if he could take a crack at it next time they had family dinner, or Dustin might know what to do. He was a science nerd. The walkie-talkie the kids had graced him with for emergency frequencies was also not immune to the rampant craziness that had half his house out of whack. The kid had to have an idea what to do. Even though the thought of letting Henderson anywhere near the breaker box in his parent’s house made Steve uncomfortable on way too many levels. Always the babysitter.

So, needless to say, Steve is having a rough time.

Today is no different. He finds himself scavenging his kitchen for food this bright sunny morning in mid-June. There isn’t much in the cupboards, and Steve’s hair isn’t cooperating without any heat, and he’d barely slept the night before, so the day is not off to a good start when Robin comes waltzing through the door already talking a mile a minute. She looks better, lately; there’s more life in her expressions and she has started to do the long rambling monologues when she’s excited or nervous or bored or fucking hungry. Whatever the situation, she was always talking.

Steve had missed it so much.

“You will never guess what happened, never in a million trillion years!” She’s shouting down the hallways as she races across the house, skidding to a stop in the kitchen in her too-worn red converses and hopping up on the counter as Steve finally begins cooking some kind of breakfast foods. He found a can of corn beef hash at the back of a dusty shelf that he can fry up, and a couple slices of bread that aren’t growing questionable colors in the bag. He really needed to go to the store.

“Tell me, and get your ass off my counters. This isn’t Scoops, I eat here.” Robin just moves to a different side of the kitchen with a roll of her eyes, hopping up near the wine-glass cupboards instead and crossing her legs atop the marble countertops. “I’m going to assume it has to do with Vickie–”

“Vickie, yes, okay so you guessed that part. Doesn’t matter. Because the actual mind-blowing part is this – she asked ME to meet her today.”

Okay, that was a revelation. Steve turns around and narrows his eyes at her in surprise.

“What? She asked you out?!” He had a personal bet going that nothing would even remotely happen until like the 4th of July. (Not that they have a good track record with the 4th of July, but whatever. It’s an easy milestone he won’t forget about.)

“No, dingus, she asked me to study.” There’s a spark in her eyes like it was a damn wedding proposal, and Steve just stares at her blankly.

“I’m not following.” Yes, the lack of sleep was making his brain feel like mush most mornings, but he’s on his second cup of coffee and had been awake for three hours already. “Is that some kind of band geek code word I don’t know about, or what?”

“Like you’ve never used ‘Studying’ as an excuse to get with a girl before,” Robin prods at him, and Steve smirks a little on reflex. Yeah, he had a reputation, and there were many ‘study’ nights he’d participated in that didn’t have anything to do with textbooks.

“Yes, but you just said it wasn’t a date,” he points out, teasing with something close to what felt like their old banter. “Robin, Robin, tsk tsk. I’m ashamed of you. I didn’t think you were that kind of girl.”

“Shut up, it’s not like that either.” She pouts, arms crossed and leaning back against the cupboards. “You’re one to talk, anyway.”

“But that’s me, this is you. I hold you to higher standards.” He can practically hear his friend roll her eyes at him. He just shoves a plate into her chest with breakfast on it and leans against the counters while he picks at his own. It’s not great, but it’s hot, greasy and loaded with salt. He’s had worse. “Besides, it’s summer. What are you studying for?”

“Finals, duh. I got my letters from Roane County and they are having everyone take their tests in July so the seniors can graduate before August.”

Steve remembers hearing that on the news, now that she says it. Graduation had been canceled, but the seniors of Hawkins High still needed to finish school if they wanted to get out of this cursed town to attend college in the fall. A lot of parents were up in arms with the school board about it; claiming most people would just pardon the kids and give them their diplomas anyway. It was a whole mess, and for a split second Steve had forgotten Robin was in the middle of it. He’d been so caught up in making sure the kids were okay that he hadn’t been paying attention to the Vecna-fighters his own age. Suddenly, he wasn’t so hungry anymore.

“You know I would have helped you study, Rob,” he tells her, and she about chokes on her toast she laughs so abruptly.

“With what? Didn’t you barely pass your own year?”

“Rude,” he grumbles at her, dropping his unfinished breakfast right into the sink. She’s not wrong, but it’s the thought that counts right? He crosses his arms at her and tries to glare, but it melts at her fond smile – he might be an idiot ex-jock, but he was her idiot ex-jock and that’s what matters. “Okay, fine. Guess you have to make sure you can actually reply to those college applications before they give your spots away.”

“Um, yeah about that,” Robin unfolds herself enough to kick her feet over the edge of the counter. “I didn’t exactly end up sending them.”

Steve doesn’t even deign that with a response, just stares at her with raised eyebrows because – hell, Nancy Wheeler had helped her with those college applications. She should have gotten in anywhere at that rate.

“Don’t look at me like that! I had a lot going on, you know – fighting an evil demon wizard really takes a lot out of you.”

“Yeah, I think I remember something about that.” They’re joking, tone light and sarcastic, but the heaviness still sits a little too uncomfortably in the center of Steve’s chest. It’s how they cope, really. It’s how they’ve always coped. Steve and Robin were legit two sides of the same coin; from dealing with nightmare-induced-problems to the types of chicks they stare at out the windows of Family Video. Cut from the same cloth, and all that shit. He didn’t think he would have gotten through the past few months without her. “So, guess you’re stuck here with me.”

Robin smiles at that, feet still swinging, her red converses standing out in his parents' modern monochrome kitchen design starkly. The color is always a welcome sight, to Steve.

“Guess so.” She leans just a bit to her right, bumping shoulders with him, and it knocks a smile out of Steve as well. “So, when can I move in?”

“You basically live here already. Pick a room.”

She laughs like he’s joking, and Steve doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s 100% serious.

—

tbc

—

Series Snippets:

- Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

- Subconscious (Steve’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[madaboutmunson]

A Friend in Need's a Friend Indeed

I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Chapter 4

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Link to fic overview and all parts

Chapter Summary: Steve POV of the aftermath of meeting Eddie for the first time

Author Notes: This is a mature story, definitely 18+ only. Note specifically for this chapter: Don't Panic lol :D

Tags/Warnings: rockstar!AU; band; touring; music industry; alternate universe; drug usage; alcohol abuse; performing; enemies to lovers; road trip; stobin; platonic stobin; platonic with a capital P;

Word Count: 4.5K

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fuck! Steve's mind screams. He finally got what he wanted and then proceeded to gradually fuck it up over their meeting. He just wasn't expecting him to look like that. It completely threw him.

Steve had worked with photographers before, models too, and had been a model himself, so he's been around the handsome and the hot more times than he would care to remember. He could just look in the mirror. There was no denying this Munson was attractive, like smokin’ hot, but he was also other things. Cute, funny, vulnerable, intriguing, and so different.

He pulls out a chair from the table, drops down into it and bows his head forward, cradling the back of his head in his hands and tries to take a few deep breaths.

The truth of the matter was he didn't know this guy, he didn't remember him, and all he had to go on was his work, not even his socials, that Steve almost religiously stalked before they took his ability to do that. But not even they showed his face, just his work.

And what a face.

Those huge brown eyes, long lashes, perfect jawline, pretty pillowy pout. It was like he's manifested this whole situation way too hard, and now it’s gonna be a problem.

Steve gets up from the chair and races up the stairs to the windows that look out onto the driveway. He can see the car being loaded, and one of Buckley's team is talking to him. Eddie shakes his head, and those dark, wild curls and waves bounce around his face as a huge, toothy smile appears. Wow, he was pretty.

"Everything ok, Mr. H?" Buckley asks stoically, and Steve nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Fuck, you scared the shit outta me!" Buckley just smiles in response, and Steve can't resist a smile and soft laugh back, "Suppose that's what makes you so good at your job." He looks out of the window. Eddie is frantically typing on his phone, then back to her. "I'm gonna head up to my room. Wanna join me?" He asks carefully, looking around.

The glance she returns is knowing, "I thought you might need my assistance."

She removes one of her walkies and hands it to her nearest minion, "Here, you're in charge until I'm back. Only contact me in an emergency!"

They make their way to the lift and ride it in silence until they reach the top floor and then walk down the long, ornately decorated corridor until they reach the small set of spiral stairs going up to Steve's actual bedroom.

Once on the other side of the door, Buckley turns on some loud music. Steve sits on the four-poster bed and begins undoing some of the drapes, so they fall closed. Eventually, they both disappear inside.

"So whaddya think?" Steve says, removing his shirt and throwing it out of the drapes.

"Think of what?" She says, her nose crinkled in annoyance, as she undoes her protective vest and belt and tosses them onto the floor on the other side of the bed.

Steve rolls his eyes, "Of the photographer. Munson. Eddie," the heavy dose of swoon on the last version of his name is accompanied by a sigh from Steve and an eye roll from Buckley as he kicks off his trousers through the draped fabric.

"Isn't it enough that he's finally here?" She says, a little exasperated, kicking off her boots to the floor, "OK?" She says, gesturing to herself, and Steve shakes his head.

"Probably the hat and shirt too." A bit fed up, he says, "Sorry,” he gives a half-awkward smile and averts his eyes, “Just after the other morning in the party room with that blonde guy, they've been on my case again." 

"I swear to god, Steve, you owe me big time for this. If this leaked, my girlfriend would be mortified." Robin complains.

"Yeah, well, it's not gonna leak, is it? Because you're head of security. Also, she knows you've got no interest in guys." He says quickly as he leans back on the bed, hands clasped behind his head.

"And if it leaks, Steve, and if my girlfriend is embarrassed because everyone has seen her lesbian partner disappear into bed with Steve Harrington, you know what happens next. I get dumped, or she will expose you, maybe both." She looks at Steve seriously, matching how he lies back on the bed, “I guess it's the full theatrics then?” she grimaces.

" ’Fraid so,” he sighs and blinks up at the canopy, “Maybe things would be better that way. This 24/7 performance is fucking killing me." He checks his watch and lets out a loud, fake moan. Robin matches his volume but with a loud pretend giggle of her own. "Who am I kidding? There is too much riding on this. If I fuck up, people could suffer." He shakes his head, "I hope the residency is gonna be easier. A lot of people say Vegas knows how to keep a secret."

"That very much depends on your secrets staying in Vegas after the fact, though, doesn't it?" She purses her lips and ruffles up her hair.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve says, folding his arms and frowning.

"Eddie." She baby talks as she overdramatically flutters her eyelashes at him.

"Oh, yeah," a huge smile creeps across his face.

"See!" she points at him accusingly with widened eyes, but the creases at the corners of them let him know she’s enjoying ribbing him as much as she is protecting him.

"Well, I've managed to fuck that up anyway. Not that there's anything I can pursue, but in Vegas, maybe I stood a chance?" Steve sighs and puts the backs of his hands over his eyes in embarrassment, "I always go too far."

"Steve, you can pursue whatever you want, but you know the price. I only protect slash distract you from making a mistake you've explicitly told me you didn't want to make. I'll stick by you no matter what. Regarding the guy from yesterday, you definitely can't be doing that, not with that many people around and-" Robin begins lecturing him on his mistake. He knows she’s correct as usual, but sometimes, he thinks, maybe he wants the compulsion to take over him, to destroy everything for a taste of that forbidden fruit for longer than an opportunistic five minutes here or there.

"I know…I know! I just had a moment of weakness." Steve assures.

"And this guy is another one of those?" Robin asks.

Steve turns over on his side to face her as he reaches to hold her hand, "Have you ever been struck like that, by beauty? Stopped in your steps? Breath taken away? A full-on stall?"

"I think maybe you're just a little high, Steve." Robin tells him, but he shakes his head, "I gotta be honest, I'm not even sure this guy likes you all that much."

"What d'you mean?" Steve's eyebrows furrow in complete confusion. "What, like, he doesn't find me attractive? Really? No!” He says, waving his hands in front of him and shaking his head, “No way! I’m adorable.” He pauses thoughtfully, “Or probably doesn't like me for my performance downstairs?"

"All of the above, maybe before that? I dunno. Weird vibes. Whether they are into you or not, who would rather pay to stay in a hotel than stay here for free? That's just weird. What kind of guy turns down requests, personal ones, I might add from The Steve Harrington, over the years?"

"He was busy! Also, only call the machine Harrington, ok? You know I don't like it when you use my name like that." 

"You know you say he was busy, but Munson Photography hasn't posted anything in years. His personal socials are all private. Like he got famous and disappeared."

"Maybe fame wasn't something he wanted? Maybe he's an artiste? A tortured genius?" Steve flourishes his hand in the air above them, making them both giggle.

"Jesus Christ, are you writing his backstory?" Robin laughs, checks her watch and oversells a groan.

Steve sits up, looks at her wide-eyed and laughs quietly, "Would that be so bad if I did?" He sighs and lies back again.

"Yes, actually, that would be pretty bad. Building up a stranger, to your own weird fantasy standards, to pine over a man of your own creation for two whole weeks, only to then try and work with him in a professional setting for a further two weeks, only to realise he's not who you thought at all. He breaks your heart without even realising it was his to hold. Then I have to deal with you on yet another bender for god knows how long, getting over someone you only made eyes at? Yes, Steve, it would be bad!"

"I wasn't making eyes at him!"

"Could have fooled me. You gave me the signal!"

"Making eyes and those signals are completely different things!"

"And yet they inevitably end up in the same place, don't they?" Robin grumbles.

"I mean, I try not to end up in exactly the same way," he says with flirtatious nostalgia.

"You are so disgusting sometimes!" She laughs, pulling a repulsed face, checking her watch again, and reaches over to ruffle up Steve's hair, to crazy pointing in different direction standards, "Times up."

Steve feels himself shrink. These moments with Robin were all that he had here to forget all the things that were weighing him down, the pressures of fame, or being the centrepiece that keeps things going, but at the same time, knowing if he did break, if he did falter, the label wouldn't be there to catch him, they'd simply replace him. 

He put a foot out of line a few times these last few years, and he could see the new signees or people due for a comeback being warmed up on the sidelines.

He had the money. More than enough. He was lucky enough to come from wealth, so when he signed up for all this, he'd been protected by family financial advisors. That's how he had ended up with his own stash of cash and not at the mercy of the label. Not in that respect, at least. 

New artists hardly ever hid their sexuality these days, but they hadn’t hit the big time when Steve did. It would be career-ending to announce himself as bisexual, and, to be fair, he didn't realise that was something he could be at the time. That only happened in X-rated movies and was usually only the women indulging in both. And porn wasn’t really a reliable source of reality anyway.

 He wasn’t the only big-time artist playing the game like this. Some of them weren’t even bi. They were gay guys painted as the forever bachelors and photographed with the right women at the correct times. That wasn’t even just idle gossip either, unless you count said guys choking on his dick in the bathroom of a party, idle gossip.

The problem was that the fallout would be immense if he did announce it one day. He had his fake wife and her not-boyfriend to consider. The label cutting ties with him, as they had threatened to do over this numerous times, meant he wouldn’t have their support. Sure, it was a foundation built on dry sand, but they had power. Then there was everyone that worked for him. It was all such a confusing jumble of reasons, and all because his fans had been sold a version of him he wasn’t. They’d leave him. Just like everyone does when he doesn’t meet their expectations. When he fails to make the grade.

And sometimes, when Robin wasn’t around, his fans were all he had, but as the label told him repeatedly. They weren't his friends. They didn't care about him as a human being. He was a product to them, something to consume. Something they had bought into, and if Steve started changing the t’s and c’s, he couldn't expect them to stay with him. Not once he’d exposed himself as a liar. Not after they all found out he’d tricked them. He always found that odd language for the people at the label to use. He hadn’t tricked anyone. He was just figuring things out, but the fame machine was already in motion and by the time he realised he had something to tell, he was warned not to.

Steve had pointed out all the other artists that were out and proud, and he was patronisingly smiled at, “Steve, we get it, and you are free to do as you please, but we’re a business. We’ve got mouths to feed and people to keep in jobs. You aren't gonna sell to the liberal market. You’re too old now.” They didn’t even mean that regarding his age as a human being. It was more like his age as a product. Like he’d been in the chiller of the public eye for so long, he was old to them, a well-known figure, but if he stepped out of their gaze for too long or labelled himself differently, he’d spoil and be worthless to everyone.

Steve did not need to sell. He had enough money.

But he did not have enough love. 

Even if it wasn’t real, being in front of those people, feeling their eyes on him as they screamed his name and sang his heartfelt words back, sure felt as close as Steve had ever been to anything like reciprocated love. 

It was too big of a risk. He couldn’t lose that. He was already so vacant.

Steve and Robin exit the curtained bed and get dressed again.

"Where is it today?" Steve asks, trying up the front of his pants.

"I left it in your en-suite. Do not do anything stupid, Steve. I mean it!" Robin warns.

"I'm just gonna do some snooping." He smiles to himself as Robin turns down the music.

"Get a shower. Give me five minutes so I can loop the recording. That should give you ten minutes of snooping. The photo should come through quickly, but any more than that is gonna be weird," She says with a sigh, "Leave it in the basement. I know you're gonna end up there later again anyway."

"Thank you," he says genuinely, forgoing his shirt and heading to the shower as she leaves.

Giving her some time to get to the security office, he strips down and observes himself in the full-length mirror, the white and gold-flecked marble wall behind him as a backdrop. 

He takes his jaw in hand and moves it this way and that. Still handsome. What's not to like?

He runs his hands over his body, still toned, just more lithe, his face not as full, his muscles not as rounded. Robin must be wrong. Surely, Eddie at least finds him attractive. Steve's been the world's sexiest man many times over the years. Maybe he's shy. This was their first official meeting, after all. Yeah, most likely a little starstruck and acting out of sorts.

There was a time when his skin would be warmer and sunkissed, and the gold in the walls around him would amplify that, but now he's beginning to pale. He's more like the flat, cold expanse of white in between. Not that he had to worry they'd probably throw him in a tanning booth or spray tan him before the shows. Another layer of pretend is a small price to pay to appease the eyes of thousands.

He couldn't wait to be on stage again, a couple of hours of peace a night from his brain, where he could just let go. Sing loud, play loud, be loud. Wave that flag proudly like he’s confessing to them night after night. Surrounded mainly by a room full of people that adored him. Paid to see him. That's how much they wanted him. Thousands of them chanting his name, singing his songs back to him, reaching out to touch him. Not like in the lame excuse of a tomb for a home, where he either had to pay people to spend time with him or people just like him would gather here because Harrington's was a playground. For everyone except himself, of course.

He felt very much like a double agent. The people around him were as hollow and worn down as he was. He'd welcome them into his home and give them evenings of freedom, and initially, it had been a kindness until he realised none of them actually liked him, and they would falsely praise his music that they'd never even listen to. He wasn't a real musician, just a pretty face, leaving him empty again. However, with enough drink or drugs, he could forget that. Enough of the right stuff; he could blame that on his inability to physically rise out of himself. He'd busy himself with the girls in other ways, which gained him a positive reputation, or he could just sit and watch. Not that one cared what he did once they were all in that playroom. They were all too busy deep in their own vices to even notice him. He was simply the ticket in and might as well have faded into the nothingness he felt spreading throughout him. Implode on himself. Disappear into a blip of light. 

He’d thought at one point, with that level of privacy and potential blackmail material at his fingertips, it should be more than easy for Steve to indulge his other side. To have the feel of hard edges instead of soft curves, stubble in place of smooth skin, grunts in place of giggles, rigidity and firmness in place of something pliable and pillowy accommodating. But the label had built a brand, which depended on Steve being the all-American golden rock god that knocked back US whiskey and fucked star-spangled women only.

He'd pushed against it more than a few times initially and again after discovering nothing around him was real. He finally had fame and a little money. It tasted like freedom, but as it transpired, it was merely artificial flavouring that left a sour taste on his tongue. 

A rumour started, and they took him aside. Explained that his behaviour didn't just have an impact on him. People could lose their jobs, people he talked to daily, people with families, people with bills to pay. At that point, that had been enough. He behaved.

Then time went on, and the void left from hiding part of himself away started getting deeper, widening its reach until it began to eat away at him, touching things it shouldn't, and people started noticing.

Why is it when people gain success, they decide to release some whiney trash? What happened to my Rock n Roll Harrington?

Saw Steve Harrington at lunch today tried to take a selfie with him, and he just pulled his hat down and left the restaurant.

Did anyone think Steve seemed really out of it in that interview today? 

So they gave him a planted love interest, which helped for a time because he was stupid enough to think she was as real as she felt.

Rockstar Steve Harrington spotted in undercover rendezvous with Bombshell Tajana.

She's washed up and is just riding his coattails of success!

Another gold-digger!

You know I totally hated Tajana at first but Steve seems so happy these days.

Wow, do the bottle Tajana because Steve looks better than he has in years!

He shakes his head rapidly and locks eyes with himself in the mirror. We don't go down there Steve. He glares back at his reflection, warning it, as he steps into the rainfall shower, stands there letting the water fall over him, as he slowly increases the pressure until it's pelting down onto his flesh like hail. All in the vain hope it will be hard enough to slough off the ugly skin he was living in, but all it can do is wash away his most recent train of thought. His outer shell clung to him like a fungus, slowly spreading over and digging its roots through him until maybe there would be none of him left at all. Then, finally, maybe all this pain would stop, and either he would stop caring, or he would become a fully poseable action figure of Harrington.

He feels the pressure of his secrets. Feels the weight of if only. The vignette of a life that has always been out of his reach. A hair's breadth from his fingertips. 

He thumps the wall, presses his forehead against it and allows himself to let the tears fall where no one can see. Where it was impossible to tell the difference between the pain spilling out of him and that which was cleansing him. It's been so long since he let himself feel, the tears burn on their way out. But right now, he needs it. Eddie has stirred something within him, twisting around inside, half soft petals, half barbed thorns. He needs to know if there was something there or if it was just drugs-based amorousness.

Munson was gay, or at least queer in some way, of this, he was absolutely certain and had almost banked on him agreeing as much, but he'd denied him the confirmation. How nervous he was around Heidi and then himself. There was a shift when he'd asked him to point out the picture and the slightly effeminate way Munson had done so. He knew he was on the money with this. He had an innate sense for these things.

Steve had been so wrong about so many things in his life, but feeling the pull between himself and others like him, he'd never misjudged. That's how he'd picked Buckley after demanding a new bodyguard. He'd picked her, hoping he would at least have someone to understand, maybe to even talk to. What he hadn't banked on was having someone who did actually care about him, who gave him some slack but not too much. He hadn't banked on making a friend, someone who had his back, but he knew if the higher-ups got wind of it, she'd be gone for good. So they made it look like his relationships with everyone, business, and some false lust was thrown in there to keep it interesting, too. They both loved that Whitney Houston movie. And when they'd done enough for the powers that be to leave him alone for a while, they'd disappear for a weekend to somewhere. Steve might disappear with someone in passing at an exclusive party for a quick tryst of some kind, and Robin would usually set up nearby with some headphones. Close enough to break a limb if she needed to, but far away enough to not be traumatised for life.

She'd also helped him reduce his usage of recreational substances. She wasn't happy about enabling him, but if she was monitoring, at least he had no chance of making a mistake that could bring everything crashing down.

He didn't know anyone could care for him like Robin did, but he supposed it was her job to keep him safe.  He’d let her in more if he could if they had more than these occasional private moments. She already could see him at a much higher resolution than everyone else.

He steps out of the shower, wraps a towel around his waist and reaches behind the toilet cistern until his fingers find it. A small old phone, good enough to browse social media, not much else. He reclines on the chaise lounge, logs in, and goes directly to his profile. Today, he's HarringtonHound69, a fake profile he'd set up years ago, but he had found his way into the inner circles of his own fandom.

A message alert appears. It's a photo of Eddie outside the mansion, just getting into the car outside his house. He downloads it quickly. Goes back to his profile, and slyly starts the proceedings.

Guys, anyone know who this girl is? 

He attaches the file and hits send.

If anyone was going to find out about the new object of his affection, it was gonna be the internet.

He has another few minutes, so he finds Munson Photography, and just like Robin said, the posts had stopped here some time ago. Years ago. He takes a look through some intimate portrait work, where you can see almost every eyelash and fine line of the subject. The lighting is minimal, like it was too much to capture the person entirely at this level of granularity, but part of them was enough to convey the emotion captured in the picture. Some live-action shots, performers leaping through the air, smashing instruments, stage diving, explosions of colour and vibrancy. Then there is a set of black and white photographs, all backstage or travel in between shows, mostly candids but some fun naturally staged shots, like peace signs or huge grins. No one was trying to sell anything here or look cool, but they all had this friendly family energy to them.

Steve notices that it's these black and white ones he has posted the most. They must be his favourites because they tend to get the least likes, but he still posted them for a time. Steve was no social media whizz kid, and even he could see it. That made him like him even more. Presented with an evident trend, he continued to post what he loved most.

He scrolls through again. There is no picture of Eddie, but there is an older man here in one of the portrait shots. Only half in the light, a cigarette in hand, the smoke trails visible, but he is laughing, tears in his eyes from so much joy, and he's looking just above the lens. He must have been laughing at Eddie, and that makes Steve's heart leap. If he could work with this guy, maybe he could get a picture like this. He grabs a robe, hides the phone in its pocket, and goes down to the basement again. Before he hides the phone, he takes one last look at the picture of the older man, and he holds it up in his eyeline in front of his life-size print. He looks at his own wild grin and joyless eyes next to the sparkling eyes of the gentleman he holds in his hand. This wasn't a lover or someone Eddie had made laugh to capture a snap. There was a bond here. It must be his father, the fondness in his eyes. He's laughing, but half his smile hitches higher than the other. It's playful and warm. The exact opposite of his own father.

Maybe if Steve played all his cards right and was more honey and less trap, Eddie's camera could capture a different Steve. A Steve that when he looks at Eddie, his smile reaches not just his eyes but his soul too.

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Songs for this chapter if that's your thing?

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Named After Animals (2) Masterlist

part one

A Moment of Spiritual Connection With A Bumblebee (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan loved how you were able to connect with animals in a different way than with people, even though he felt a bit awkward after his mistake.

a week in the life of steve the pigeon (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: An outsider-POV from Steve the pigeon’s perspective (based loosely on Phil’s new video, “Trying to Catch and Rescue a Wild Pigeon”)

Barbie Horse Adventures (ao3) - Fictropes

Summary: Sometimes friends force you to get over your worst fears, sometimes you meet your soulmate in the process.

Beetles In The Bath (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: It has been a long while since we knew such warmth. Some of us venture out. Maybe we shouldn’t have. Maybe that was unsafe.

Birds of a Feather Steal Together (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan never expected anything remotely interesting to happen during his summer job at a petting zoo. But when he catches a boy with bright blue eyes and a cute laugh trying to smuggle a bunch of ducklings out of the farm, things take a much more interesting turn...

Caturday (ao3) - vvelna

Summary: A cat appears in Dan and Phil's kitchen.

did you know penguins mate for life? (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Phil takes care of fifty penguins at work and another twenty-five at home, though the latter wasn't exactly his choice.

fish dads (ao3) - plinth_of_life

Summary: Dan and Phil can finally bring their adopted betta home. They watch their new fish with admiration and anticipation of the future.

fish makes three (ao3) - watergator

Summary: dan and phil get a fish

greatest of all time (goat) (ao3) - SebbyLestowell (lafbaeyette)

Summary: Phil returns home from a trip with a surprising new visitor, and Dan is rightfully flabbergasted at the situation.

AKA

The One Where Phil Adopts A Goat

Kill Phil Or A Llama? (fanfiction.net) - Amy788

Summary: Small changes in Dan's live shows mean the world to Phil.

Kitten Love (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil finds a cat, and brings it back to the apartment. Dan is not amused.

Long-Horned Beetles and Dusty Archives (ao3) - chiridotalaevis

Summary: Dan was climbing up the marble steps of the museum full of dread and resentment. It was Sunday morning, and all his classmates were probably still asleep, or nursing their hangovers from the party before. But Dan couldn’t do that, no. Because Dan skipped too many classes in his General Biology course, he now would have to make it up with extra credit. By working at some sort of museum with some grad student that needed help sorting bugs. Yuck.

Spoiler: the grad student is Phil.

Night Moths - camisadan

Summary: Dan and Phil are camping, Dan needs to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night but is too scared to scared to go on his own.

Of Cats and Dogs (ao3) - GabbyGums

Summary: Dan gets roped into taking care of his friend's dog.

And somehow Phil manages to get hold of a cat.

This can only mean chaos.

Spiders and Spells (ao3) - Full_Moon_Lover

Summary: Phil was never great at transfiguration but thought he was getting better. At least he did until Professor McGonagall paired him up to work with Dan Howell. Dan is nice but there's just one problem. He's Phil's crush and Phil is prone to make mistakes when working under pressure.

The Admiral's Birdcage (ao3) - QuietBubbles

Summary: Daniel, an orphaned ward, has never set foot outside the Great House at the top of the High Street. His guardian, the powerful Admiral Malock, grows ever more obsessed with him, and hatches a terrible plan to keep him by his side forever. With Daniel approaching his twenty-first birthday and longing to see the world, Malock will go to any lengths to keep him prisoner. But when Philip, a young clerk, discovers Daniel trapped in his birdcage, a secret friendship leads quickly to love. Though there is danger at every turn, Philip knows he has to set Daniel free… Alternative Victorian England. Old-fashioned romance, fluff, obsession, danger, and smut. Also a cute kitty! Enjoy!

The Cat Brought Them Together (ao3) - yeahthisaccountisinactiveso

Summary: "Quick, catch that cat! It stole my wallet!"

The Great Cat Rescue - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan is a lover of cats, and has been obsessed with them ever since he was a little boy. Now, he runs the biggest and only cat rescue in London. But, things are starting to get very stressful and he might have to shut down, but not if Phil has anything to do with it.

The Pet Surprise (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Phil is going to his boyfriend’s apartment for the first time, and he certainly didn’t expect his boyfriend to have a pet snake in his apartment.

[stuckylibrary]

Do you have any jealousy fics specifically about Sam? Bucky isn't even jealous of him in a "is he banging the guy I want to bang?" way, it's more of a "my memory is still a little clouded but didn't Steve used to be MY best friend? We used to go out for ice cream together like that... Who's this f*cker taking my place?" way. Basically Bucky being jealous of Sam and Steve's friendship until he finds out Steve's in love with him, not Sam. (cue Bucky trying to rub it in Sam's face but Sam keeps reassuring him that he really, really doesn't care)

Found you some:

The BBFF Wars by rinnya (complete | 2,197 | E )

James Buchanan Barnes may have been the Best of Best Friends Forever with Steven Grant Rogers 70 years ago, but that position had been given to Samuel Thomas Wilson 5 odd years ago, and it was a position Sam wasn’t going to give up without a fight. If Bucky was going to suddenly appear and totally whisk Steve away on a white horse and get a happy ever after in their BBFF fairytale. Heck no, not on Sam’s watch.

Sam and Bucky compete for Steve’s platonic affections. Or… at least, that was what was supposed to happen.

Inspired from a tumblr post: A fic in Sam’s POV where Sam and Bucky are trying to prove themselves to be Steve’s REAL TRUE BFF in increasingly ridiculous ways until Sam sees Steve and Bucky making out and is like ohshit the deadliest assassin in the world thinks I’m trying to steal his man.

Don't Take This The Wrong Way by papesdontsellthemselves (oneshot | 2,378 | G)

During their hunt for Bucky, Steve and Sam take to cuddling for comfort. Bucky sees and naturally, he's got some feelings about it.

Green (Heart)-Eyed Monster by TheIntelligentHufflepuff (oneshot | 1,822 | T)

He shakes his head, tries to turn away. But his eyes rove back, insatiable. Steve is spinning Sam, goofily. Sam stumbles, and Steve instinctively grabs Sam to his chest to keep him up.

For a wild, petty moment, Bucky wishes he'd just fall.

[Post-Endgame, except an Endgame where nobody died. Bucky gets drunk and jealous at the after-party, but makes up with Sam and gets together with Steve the next day]

Green-Eyed Monster* by storiesfortravellers (oneshot | 1,917 | T) *chose not to warn

SPOILERS FOR CA2 IN SUMMARY

The Winter Soldier has joined the team and is slowly recovering, but he goes into a jealous rage whenever he sees that Steve is close friends with Tony, Sam, or Natasha. Past Steve/Bucky.

There’s also this Ao3 tag: Frenemies Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson

[wordynerdygurl]

Skin Deep - Part 6

Author’s Note:  Honestly, this story is nearing it’s ending.  Hard to believe that a little idea I couldn’t shake has now grown into this mini-series!  For all my die-hard homies, waiting for the next installment, I hope this is worth your while!  If you’re new here, take a look around, see if you like anything and please, let the management know if you have any questions!! As always, writing like this requires the emotional support of people and pets.  My dogs, Murphy and Winston, get me through a lot of plot bunnies just by being stalwart companions.  My husband, graciously, lets me take these flights of fancy when I probably should be paying better attention to him and his day... and some of my besties here on Tumblr make it possible for me to do this for you guys.  @sammy-jo1977​ , my sister from another mister!  Couldn’t/ Wouldn’t do it without you! To all the folks who follow me... My Minxes!  Love you all!  Stay well, be kind, and remember that Love, really does conquer all!  If you want to be a Minx, send me a note, I’ll happily add you to my tag list! Lastly, be sure to like and share anything that you see on Tumblr that catches your eye.  Creative types, we need the constant validation, you see?  Without it, like an unwatered plant, we wither on the vine and perish!  Be kind to those who help you through the day and reblog! Skin Deep Part 5 - click here for the previous chapter! Pairing:  Loki x Reader, Steve, Valkyrie & Thor all make appearances Summary:  Continued from Part 5, You and Loki put your plan into action, returning to Farmhouse.  When you encounter Steve again, you learn there’s more than two sides to this story. Warnings:  Loki’s POV and perspective, including mentions of his time under Thanos.  I’m re-writing MCU history here, but some of the main beats are the same, so look out for SPOILERS for Dark World, Ragnarok, and a touch of Infinity War.  The SNAP never happened because, reasons.  

Empathy used to seem such a human emotion.  Loki had no time for that on Asgard, not when Odin denied anything as frivolous as feeling.  Hiding in plain sight was the means to survival and if that made the young prince sneaky and sly, so be it.  By placing those parts of himself under lock and key; the parts that hurt, the ones that ached, Loki found it was safer to disconnect from others than subject himself to their suffering too.

Operating under the influence of Thanos and his minions when he held the scepter, Loki had purposefully divorced connection of any kind from his mind.  It was dangerous.  Weak.  And moreover, it allowed Loki to do what Thanos commanded without really experiencing the horror, the havoc, of his actions for himself. 

  Who could hear the screams of women when the voice of Ebony Maw subliminally chanted all the ways that one could be dismembered at Thanos’ hands should Loki fail?  What man would shed a tear after the near constant beatings doled out by Black Order members, just for the fun of it?  How could someone care about a house, a car, a city, when they no longer cared about themself? Losing the Battle for New York had consequences far beyond the destruction of property.  With Thanos’ hold over him vanquished, the walls around his heart, constructed in youth, crashed and burned like the dream of ruling Earth.  Suddenly and completely out of reserves, Loki was powerless.  And he felt everything.  The fresh hurts caused by his manipulated ambitions in the hands of Thanos. The furious feelings of his brother, the inadequacies of his character, the feeble needs that drove his wild ambition washed over him unceasingly.  Anger.  Loss.  Lunacy.  Loki learned a hard truth in that moment.  He was a monster.  A freak.  A creature beyond hope and salvation; proving his adoptive father right and his own hopeful heart wrong.  Bitterness soured the fallen prince. Endless hours in isolation on Earth, which continued in his father's house, had Loki believing he had no chance of seeing the world outside again, and it hardened his heart further.  To feel was so painful, so raw, and so humane.  Why bother anyway?  All that emoting, those high spirits, all they really did was expose you to derision.  What was grief to a goblin?  What was horror to a monster?  What was love to a villain like him?  An evil, conspiring demi-god, with a mind bent toward domination.  A damaged, destroyed, deity alone and in pieces.  Who would ever give someone like Loki Odinson a chance?  Why should they?

Turning to his mother, Loki did everything but ask for forgiveness.  In long rambling talks, her projection to his jailed person, the pair talked around ideas of guilt and innocence, of fate and fortune, of destiny versus desire, yet Loki never heard the words he needed in order to truly find peace.   

If Frigga was aware of her son’s need for absolution, Loki would never know, as their last exchange was harsh and full of anger.  Another stroke of loss, crippling now, because there was nothing Loki could do to change any of it from inside his prison cell.  No illusion could conceal the painful ache that consumed him entirely. 

Those days were dark, even for a soul as dusky hued as his own, and Loki’s thoughts followed a similar path.  If there had been a way for him to shake off this immortal coil, free himself of the burden of living, Loki would have done so and been glad.  Death was welcome compared to all this longing and heartache. But life, even a nearly immortal one, was funny. 

When Thor provided a chance at redemption, Loki snatched at it, in his own detached way.  He played hero, rescuing Jane, aiding his brother.  And if he took a bit more in the form of deposing his arrogant, aging father, who would be surprised?  He was Loki, God of Mischief, after all. Ruling the Nine Realms without the oppressive oversight of his father allowed Loki to prove himself in ways he never imagined.  And Loki wasn’t just good at it.  He was great. Of course, it helped that no one knew he was Loki.  Living disguised as Odin was often unpleasant, frequently frustrating, but entirely necessary.  Being Loki was still too difficult and likely to bring unwanted attention in the form of The God of Thunder, a thing that no one truly wanted, Loki least of all. Return Thor did, along with an unknown sister and the end of Asgard.  When confronted with the insanity of Hela’s bloodlust, Loki’s only thought was of his kingdom, now without a ruler.  He had worked too hard, too long, to see the land he cared for in the hands of an enemy, even if she called herself sister.  Opening the Bi-Frost, panicked, his mind was solely on saving those he had recently held dominion over.  They were his people, after all.  But he never reached Asgard. Swallowing his fear, Loki focused all his energy on staying alive in a new and distracting environment, initially.  What Loki found on Sakaar wasn't a new home base under a flamboyant, ineffective leader that he could control, even if that was his first design.  On Sakaar Loki found his loyalty.  

The proud, deep resonance of being Asgardian, of being an Odinson, of being capable and cool under pressure.  Sure, he had to prove himself to Thor, Valkyrie, Banner and honestly, the rest of the kingdom, but actions speak louder than words.  And through his actions on Sakkar, and by extension rescuing the people of Asgard, Loki had shown everybody his true mettle. It was on the deck of a stolen ship headed for Midgard that  Loki had made a commitment of sorts.  One that was not to the people, so recently saved or for his found family.  This time, the promise Loki intended to keep was for himself.  Loki was going to change. The problem is, a task like that takes time.  Patience.  Motivation.  It was something that Loki had to work at and it was exhausting. They say that the best things come to those who wait.  Loki was learning to wait everyday.  Having earned a place at the side of his brother, he worked tirelessly to win over the heroes of his new home planet.  Was it easy?  Hardly, but Loki wasn’t willing to compromise.  Not anymore. A life like Hela’s was not in his runes.  Loki was simply going to be better.  Not perfect.  No one could be as good hearted as Captain America, nor could one be as tech savvy as Stark.  So Loki was planning on being the best Loki he could possibly be, and that’s how he found himself going to meetings at The Avengers Tower, a mostly welcome addition to the team. Meetings weren’t all that exciting and boredom was an awful temptation for a deity devoted to mayhem.  In fact, Loki spent more time doodling in his notebook than listening to whoever was droning on about whatever part of the world needed the attention of this motley crew.  That was, until Pepper Potts hired her new assistant.  That you were polite, pretty and pert wasn’t lost on the young god.  Sitting outside Mrs. Iron Man’s office, typing away with a phone tucked under your ear, moving faster than anyone he had ever seen was certainly impressive.  You were quick witted, clever and most of all, funny. Everyone else seemed to fall under your spell without much effort on your part, something that Loki found frustratingly fascinating.  Here he was, struggling to get people to say his name without having a traumatic flashback, while you simply smiled and smarted off prettily, and had everyone singing your praises.  But Norns, were you adorable. If he thought about it, and while off planet, Loki definitely had, he could remember the moment he realized that you were the woman he wanted.  You were busy, as always, fielding phone calls and flipping through screens yet every moment your flying fingers weren’t hovering over a keyboard or pushing down telephone buttons they curled around a heart shaped charm at your throat.  Clearly, it was a habit and one that you weren’t even aware of, still - it transfixed him all the same.  Watching you from his side eye, your voice never wavering, your tone always so pleasing, and your nimble digits returning again and again to the small sigil around your neck.  “Loki?” “Huh?”  Dumbfounded at your call, those deep sea eyes blinked wildly at the sound of his name on your lips. “Hi!  Yes, Pepper can see you now.  Go ahead, she’s ready!” He rose on stiff legs, adjusting his tie, about to lie to Tony Stark’s woman all for the chance to see you in passing.  Who had he become? It started out innocent like that, but soon, Loki was having to invent excuses for being in the office so frequently.  Missing files, random visits, even going so far as to buy Tony coffee just for the thrill of seeing you.  Something needed to change, and quickly, or Loki was going to blow. On another made up errand, hanging around the executive’s high rise office, Loki was doing a bad job of pretending not to see you.  His mind was on your pouty lips as you sipped lemonade through a straw and not on the stately woman seated behind the desk. 

“Loki, you’re a man of some… style.”  Pepper said it so casually that he almost didn’t hear, his head lost in thoughts that would shame any other person. “I like to think so.”

Shutting her folder with a snap, Pepper smiled, “And you’d love to help your old friend Pepper out, right?” That got his attention, and quickly.  Loki, shoving his hands in his pockets, turned to face Pepper with a widening grin, “I feel like I’m being baited.”

“Baited?  Never!  It’s just, you’re always here and I have a… project that needs the kind of help that you can provide.”  At those words you entered the office, ready for action with a notebook and pen, eager and excited. Suddenly, it was all clear to Loki, “Pepper, no.”  

The noose closed in on the handsome god as Pepper gathered paperwork without looking his way, “Come on, it’s the Stark Homecoming Gala and the two of you will do great!  I have faith in you both.  I can’t wait to see what you come up with!” “Really, Miss Potts, I simply can’t-” Stopping short, the strawberry blonde whipped around, almost nose to nose with Loki.  Shrewd and straightforward, Pepper interrupted, saying, “You’ve been dancing around my office for weeks now.  Clearly you like her and… against all the odds, she likes you too.  I’m doing you a favor and when someone does you a favor, you say “Thank You”.” “Thank you.” Nodding curtly, “You’re welcome.  Now, make yourselves comfortable, order some dinner, my treat.  And do whatever you need to make sure this is one great party!” That’s how Loki found himself sitting at a clear glass table over sweating bottles of iced tea as you discussed color themes and tablecloths.  You were shy, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you reviewed notes from previous gatherings both large and small.  His hands itched with wanting to do that job himself. “So, what do you think?”  It was the first time you had addressed him directly since coming through the door and for a moment Loki couldn’t answer.  You were too… not beautiful, that wasn’t the right word, although you were.  No, you were too open, too easy to read, and the earnestness you offered him was downright frightening. Sitting forward in the uncomfortable, yet fashionable, office furniture, Loki cleared his throat and again tugged his tie, “What I think is that you should let me take you dinner.” Dropping your eyes, your cheeks colored slightly as your fingers found that locket charm once more, “Loki, I… I don’t know-” Grabbing for your hand, suddenly afraid that you would take those shining eyes away, Loki lowered his voice and did something he never thought he would.  He begged.  “Please?  I find that you’re all I can think about.” It rushed out of him in a torrent, the way truth so often does, and he found himself unable to look you in the eye.  Loki was afraid to see rejection on your easy to read face, afraid that wanting you had cracked open the lock box holding his heart, afraid that you would see just how weak you made him.  Your fingers twined with his own as you replied, “You didn’t let me finish.  I don’t know what took you so long.” Sighing with relief, his face melting into a genuine smile, “Me either.” Over the next two months the pair of you worked tirelessly to plan and execute a perfect party.  You were inseparable during the day, heads buried together as you discussed linens and table settings, the quality of cocktail glasses, and debating over a band or a dj.  But at night, at night Loki talked about the things that haunted him in the dark.  And you loved him in spite of the awful things he had seen and done and said. Others took notice.  Loki was more lighthearted, more available.  He listened when people spoke and wasn’t constantly doodling during meetings.   Yes, Loki was learning how to love through your loving him.  If empathy had seemed too humane before, then sharing his life, his love with you, was the kind of immortality that earned someone a place in Valhalla.  It was the bravest thing Loki Odinson had ever done and he didn’t mind one bit.

The first time Loki tasted you was burned into his brain, as bright as a flash of lightning.  A firefly in a memory jar that he kept returning to, time and again.  Loki remembered what you were wearing.  He recalled exactly how the light shone in your eyes.  If he concentrated, he could tap out the rhythm of your racing pulse as he held you in his arms. It was the night of the gala.  Inviting everyone under the Stark Industries banner, up to and including the heroes tasked with saving the world, the event was a way to earn money for one of the many charities Tony supported.  The place was full of beautiful people wearing gorgeous clothes under perfect lights set to the hand crafted soundtrack you had created together.

But, Norns, he could still remember the way your eyes sparkled under the lowlights of that hall.  How your dress, simple but sophisticated, clung to the fullness of your bottom.  Low cut but somehow still modest, Loki couldn’t tear his gaze away from the promise of your curves, willing himself to find anything else as interesting as the idea of you.  

You were across the room hanging onto Tony’s every word, eyes bright and cheerfully glowing as you sipped champagne.  It made Loki want to do something grand, something suave, something that would demand your attention for his own.  Moving towards you, his tuxedo perfectly pressed and fitting better than it had any right to, Loki looked long and lean.  Each of his steps seemed to echo, even though the room was full of sound, and you turned your head as if you also heard.  Breaking away from the cluster of acolytes surrounding Iron Man, you bit into your lip as the crowd parted, moving closer together one step at a time.  It was one of the sexiest things Loki had ever witnessed. Lifting your glass in a toast, taking in the room of mingling millionaires, wealthy hangers on and Avengers, “Well, we did it!” “You did it, my dove, I just hung around and judged everyone.” “Oh stop.  I couldn’t have done it without you and you know it.”  Playfully you pushed against his shoulder and Loki took advantage, using your momentum to pull you to his side, your curvy figure flush against his own. Crooning into the shell of your ear, his lips brushing over that sensitive skin, “Somehow, love, I think you would have managed.”  Before you had time to think, Loki had melded his mouth with your own, stealing your breath along with your heart.  Loki’s feet moved in time with the music as he pulled into a dance, laughing in his arms, your cheeks hot and your head swimming. You laughing was, without question, Loki’s favorite sound.  Nothing in this world or any other came close to matching the joyful, childlike glee of that enchanting noise.  Loki memorized its melody, the rise and fall of your giggle.  He had craved it, being away for so long, and now he wanted… no, needed to hear it.  But you were the furthest thing from happy at the moment.   

"Darling, please.  We have to go."  Loki tapped his watch, shaking himself free from the memories of your previous life together and barely suppressing his irritation.

Tears filled your eyes as you whipped your arms around Thor’s mighty shoulders, his deep voice grumbly with emotion, "Take care of him, would you?  He's a jerk, but Loki is the only brother I have."

"Of course… always.  And Valkyrie, your highness, I can’t thank you enough for-"

"No need.  Loki, and by extension yourself, will always have a safe haven here in my palace."

Looking on, Loki and Thor embraced almost tenderly before crashing their heads together.  

"Stay safe, little brother."

"Be good, Thor."

Eyes on the sky, Val ignored the show of masculine emotion, chastising your plan, "You’re going to start a war, Loki."

Straight backed, Loki turned to the king, "Not on the grass of New Asgard.  I will take the fight to them, that is my vow to you."

As Loki offered his hand, Valkyrie shook it, with parting words, "Work on staying alive.  You have a tendency to worry your brother."

Solemnly nodding, "As the king commands.  Shall we?"  With that Loki laced his fingers with yours, leading you a few paces away from the people who loved him most, before summoning the magic that had you both transcending space and time.

This time when your feet touched down it was on the familiar turf of the orchard, surrounded by the scent of apple blossoms and the buzzing of happy bees.  Morning had broken and the world seemed full of promise, with the exception of that knot in your stomach.

"Are you ready?  Darling?"

"Oh… yes.  I mean, I still don't love this plan, but-"

"But it's going to work."  Only it was no longer the baritone voice of your long, lean Loki speaking.  In his place stood Nick Fury, leather duster and eye patch in place.

"If you say so!"  And you clutched your own throat as Natasha’s bored tones came out of your mouth.  The suit, skin tight but flexible, molded to your modified form.  All in all, you were comfortable, "The boots are a bit much."

"Ya think?  This jacket weighs a ton."  Pulling at his collar, "Why does he wear a turtleneck anyway?"

"Loki, this is so weird.  It feels so weird."

"Agreed, but then, why am I so turned on?"

Laughing, you shook your false red hair, hands resting on Natasha’s waist, "God, I've missed you."

"Same, dearest.  Now… let's get your necklace and some answers!"

---

 Convincing Bucky to head home had taken a lot of work, but sometime around 2 am Steve had finally seen his friend off.  The house was empty.  Steve felt the same way.

Turning the black velvet box in his pocket, fingers crushed against the fragile fabric, Steve struggled to feel anger.  When that didn't materialize he shot for sadness but even tears seemed beyond his ability.  

With a sigh, climbing the same stairs he had trudged up a hundred times before, Steve started going through the motions of bedtime.  Only tonight you weren’t there to tease him about the wildly inappropriate amount of toothpaste on his brush.  He didn’t have your light footsteps to follow to the bedside or your help with stacking all of your extra, yet entirely essential, pillows on the chair.

Someone must have changed the sheets, he thought.  There was no evidence of you and Loki’s adventurous afternoon anymore.  Steve made a mental note to thank Buck for that little piece of kindness in the morning.

Shucking his shirt, Steve sat on the mattress, a hand to his forehead.  He had lost.  Captain America had been bested.  Beaten.  And by Loki, no less.

Moonlight in silver slivers shone through the window panes, squares of light in the deep of night.  Steve was alone.  Utterly and totally alone.

And there was no one to blame but himself.

Sighing hard, Steve stood, pacing the floor to work off some of the unspendable anxiety he kept creating.  The room still had your energy, your vibe, as you liked to call it, and the feeling was a prickling itch Steve couldn’t quite satisfy.  Traces of you were everywhere and something about you leaving all of it, and him, behind was just too big to process. “Damn it.”  Even whispering sounded like thunder in the silence of your recently vacated room.  His hands, so big, so strong, smoothed along the fabric of your hanging clothes.  All that power had done nothing to help Steve get the thing he wanted. Sorting through the baubles and trinkets on your dresser, bottles of perfume he had purchased, necklaces and pins, each with a moment of memory it hurt him to recall.  Your watch ticked away the minutes as he stood, stoic and still, surrounded by the shadow of you.  In the orchard the birds were waking, their song filling the air, as morning broke in low golden rays.  Abandoning his plan for sleep, Steve watched as the light chased away the dark, casting rainbows on the floor.  The sun was reflecting off of your Grandmother’s necklace.  A pretty, ancient, carved cameo,  heart shaped locket.  He recalled his own mother owning one just like it, pictures of loved ones pressed inside, holding them as tight as history would allow. Fisting the filigree chain, winding it around his fingers as if it would somehow undo what he had done, Steve slipped it into his pocket before settling back onto the bed.  ----

At the back door to the home you so recently shared with Steve, Loki hung back, “I think this is where we split up.  You go find your treasure and me… I’m going to find some answers.” Nodding, Natasha’s signature red hair swinging, you squeezed the hand holding your own.  It no longer looked like Loki’s long fingered paw, but that was only a skin deep change.  You felt the undeniable essence of him in the press of his fingers against your own. “Be careful.” “That’s no fun, dove.” “Loki-”  You hated the way your voice broke as you said it, but there just seemed to be so much at stake and you had already lost him once. Sensing your unspoken concerns, Loki flashed you Nick Fury’s best smile, “I will.  I promise.”

“Ten minutes.” “Ten minutes.”  You watched the black coated back of your charmed paramour as he opened the shed door, hoping that he’d find something worth knowing in that place out of sight.  Inhaling deeply you twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible, letting yourself into what was once your kitchen, “What a mess.”  It was impossible not to notice the unwrapped leftovers and empty bottles littering the table.  An overturned trash barrel, crumpled beer cans littering the counter, things that Steve, your Steve, would never have tolerated.  All evidence that the grand evening he’d envisioned had been thwarted by Loki’s arrival and your collective escape.  

You started up the stairs, praising Natasha's footwear for its stealth, when you heard the toilet flush and the unmistakable shuffle of Steve’s feet on the carpet.  There was no place to hide on the wide stairwell.  It was time to see if Loki's plan was going to work.

Voice blurry, eyes rubbed red and raw, you couldn't deny that Steve looked like shit, “Bucky?  That you?  You back?”  Steve’s voice bounced around the brightening room as morning sunlight filtered through the soft sheers you had picked out for exactly this reason. Panicked, you backed into the railing with an over loud “Oof!” “Nat?  What are you doing here?  I thought you and Fury were headed to New Asgard?”  Suddenly wide awake and wondering, Steve rushed to your costumed side, eager for information. The man in front of you now bore little resemblance to the angry Avenger you had escaped from hours before.  This man had hair sticking up in odd angles from near constant finger raking.  This man had a hint of a stuffy nose and red rimmed eyes, all indicators that tears had been shed.  Now those blue eyes were scrutinizing you closely, full of concern.

“Uh… We... We got intel.  Yea, intelligence, that Loki was headed back this way.  Turned around… and uh, here we are.” One of those sandy blonde eyebrows lifted, “Natasha?”

Squaring your shoulders, channeling that cool confidence you’d see Black Widow display over and over, “Steve?”  Something about your tone of voice convinced him in a way your words couldn’t.  He visibly relaxed, those broad shoulders going slack as he asked, “Didn’t make it to Norway, then?"

Nodding a negative, you felt the unfamiliar brush of her red hair at your cheek and had to fight the urge to tuck it away, “No.  Loki’s using some sort of transporting power to move them around.  Fury suggested I keep an eye out here, in case they come back this way.” “She won’t be back, Nat.  There’s nothing for her here.”  To you, Steve sounded so sad, so removed, that you had to will yourself not to comfort the giant before you.  “That’s not true!”  It came out of you forcefully, thoughtlessly, and you saw the shock register on the Captain’s face. “That is, Fury and I… we… have reason to believe that she will come back.  They left with nothing, Steve.  She’ll need clothes… maybe some shoes… and-”  Swallowing hard, you didn’t want to give anything away, “-a necklace from her grandmother.” Steve, patting his pocket, felt the weighted chain and it’s heart shaped locket, “I don’t think-” Stepping up to his bulky form, suddenly aggressive, you started, “Never mind what you think, Captain.  We're here for a necklace...  the necklace.  Our intel suggests that your former flame might return for it and… And, I want it, with me, as a means to subdue her when she arrives." Sounding forceful and official was enough to back Steve down.  Just a touch deflated, you watched him shrug, “If that’s what you want, Nat, here-”  From his pants he pulled out the shining bauble, a trinket really, but full of sentiment and memory. Sitting in his palm, the tiny heart that held the picture of your grandmother and mother looked so small, almost unreal.  Reaching for it with wet eyes, you smiled at Steve as you lifted the charm and chain, “Thank you, Steve.  Thank you.” Nodding deeply, that golden head bobbing, “You’re welcome.”  The large grandfather clock could be heard ticking throughout the house.  The sun was gaining on the day and you, dressed as Natasha stood in silence in front of a somber Steve.  For another long beat nothing was said, then, as if sensing a shift in your conversation, Steve flashed your fake Natasha a weak smile, “I could use some breakfast.  How about you?”

“Um… sure.  Yea, ok.  Breakfast.” 

Steve started moving again, downstairs towards the cluttered kitchen when he paused, "So how did you get back so fast?  Cause that's like a 7 hour flight, even with you in the cockpit." “Steve…”  You could hear it, the whining almost pleading tone that signaled the end of Loki’s well planned charade.  That wasn’t enough to stop Steve.  He broke hard, one of those strong arms stopping you in your tracks before you could reach the lower level. “It’s clever, I have to give you guys that.  Almost perfect, really.” Panic rising, you doubled down on the ruse, struggling to keep your voice even, “I don’t know-”  Blocking you in, his body the perfect unmovable buffer, “Loki’s here too, isn’t he?” Pushing against “Steve, I… I don’t…” “Don’t lie.  You don’t have to…” “But… how-?” “You’re not mean enough to play Natasha, doll.  Not by a long shot.”

--- It was strange to be seated at the table and chairs that you and Steve had picked out together one sunny Saturday when you thought that your future was going to be Loki-less.  Your place, the one that you had imagined filling with children that had golden hair and bright blue eyes, felt like a set.  Something false and fake.  A facade, put together simply for show. Steve must have felt it too because his fingers drummed against the white washed table incessantly.  Clearly he had something on his mind.  “Steve-” “No.  No.  Please, let me just get this out, ok?” Raising an eyebrow, you waved at him to continue, nervous but interested in what the super soldier needed to explain. With a shaky inhale, running his constantly moving fingers through his golden locks, Steve caught your eye and didn’t waiver.  “When I saw you… No, that’s not right.  Let me start at the beginning. “When Loki left Earth, you… you were so sad.  It hurt me to see you so… deflated.” “Steve, I-” “You know it’s true.  When he returned to Asgard, something in you, it dimmed, and I just couldn’t allow that… Not when I felt the way I did about you. “I don’t think you realize just how incredible you are… how full of life!  And since I had already missed one chance to be with you, I knew I needed to prove that I could be the man you needed… If you forgot about Loki along the way, even better. “Only… you never did.  I waited years for you, ya know, doll?  Years.  And just when I thought there was no chance with you, Nat gave me a reason to hope. “She was your friend.  An ally.  Someone you could trust… someone I could trust.  I swear it started out that innocently, at least for me.  I just wanted to make you smile again.  But she had other plans.  Plans that came from higher up the ladder of SHIELD. “Fury, he wanted us to watch you… something about Loki being too powerful.  And-”, grabbing your hand tightly, Steve emphasized his point, “-I promise you that I had no idea about his success, or the messages he had sent to you through Nick.  Like you, I thought that Loki was gone.  Missing.  Never coming back.” “I… I believe you Steve.  I know that you didn’t do all this on your own… but what was Nick hoping you’d find out?  I knew less than nothing about what was going on!” “I think he was worried that Loki would get to you first.  That if… when Loki returned, you would be his first stop.  Then you would know about Loki’s success and, frankly, Fury’s failures.  You would also know… well, everything you know now.  That Fury had you tailed, lied to, and led on in an effort to stop Loki from out flanking him.” Frenzied and frantic, you felt anger boiling up inside of you, “But I thought Loki was gone forever.  There was no hope for him and I… and Natasha, she told me that he was dead.” “All a part of Fury’s plan to keep you neutralized and Loki away.  If Loki thought that you’d ignored his letters, that you no longer loved him, why would he come back here?  And, if that didn’t work… when Loki came back and you were with me, what else could keep him on Earth?”

Whispering with realization, “So, they used you too.” Steve sighed and buried his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, “Don’t feel bad for me.  I let them use my love for you, let them twist it up and shape it as they needed.  Honestly, I wish I could tell you that it was for you, but it wasn’t.  It was for me.  I wanted you, so, so badly.  I didn’t care what strings were attached.  And we built a life together, you and me.  I thought I could outrun the reality of the constant monitoring and daily reports.  Telling Natasha and Nick about every word and each email.  Don’t you see, I love you… and I wanted you, however I could get you.” Shaking your head, Natasha’s red wisps flying, “That’s not love, Steve.  I don’t know what that is… but love isn’t it.” “No?”  With a loud thunk, Steve slammed a small velvet box on the table between you. “Is… Is that what I think it is?”

“Last night.  It was going to happen last night.  Our friends here, under the lights and the stars, I was going to ask you to marry me.  I still would if-” Realization hit you like a ton of bricks, “If Loki hadn’t stepped back into our lives.” “-If Loki hadn’t stepped back into your life.” It made you both laugh in a sad way, how you finished the same thought, and for a fleeting second you could see why you had allowed Captain America to sweep you off your feet.  He was a lot of things to you now, but there was a time when he had been almost everything.  The evidence of that was in the small black square that said nothing but spoke volumes. “Steve, I don’t know if I would have said yes… even without Loki’s… arrival.  I think I have always known that you and I… we are very different people.” Sitting back in his chair, his gaze still locked on your own, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry.  I’m sorry about what I’ve done… what I’ve said… How, shit, how I’ve behaved.  I could say that it was my duty.  I could tell you it was out of love, but the plain truth is that I have always been jealous of what you and Loki share.” “You’ll find it Steve.  You really will.  There’s a person out there waiting for you.  And once you’ve found them, oh Steve, you’ll see that this… what we had, it’s a shadow.  An illusion.  Because love, real love, doesn’t come with caveats and catches.  It is an undeniable force which, in my case, even the boundaries of time and space can not deny.” Something like a sob burst out of Steve, and you were surprised to see tears in his eyes, “I was so wrong.  Could you ever forgive me?” “I want to, Steve.  I really do... “  What more could you say?  Patting his hand you started to rise, “I have to go now.  Loki and I need to keep moving and I don’t want to risk running into Nick and Natasha.  At least, not yet, anyway.” “Where are you planning to go?” “To the Avenger’s Tower.  I believe I know what Mr. Fury has been planning all along.”  Loki’s strong voice entered the conversation as smoothly as his arms wrapped possessively around your waist. Steve took in the protective stance of your returned lover with a raised eyebrow, and without further comment asked Loki, “Really?  And how are you going to breach the building?  They’ll be looking for you, even with disguises…  Fury is no fool.  Plus, there’s little chance that Tony hasn’t activated a million safety and security protocols by now.” Only interested in you, Loki refused to give Steve any of his attention, “Getting in can’t be that hard!  I’ll figure it out when I get there.  Ready pet?” With a gentle push under his broad hands your feet started to move towards the door.  Loki was eager to be off and away, especially after hearing so much of Roger’s confession.  Just knowing what Steve had done, manipulating you while also convinced of his love for you;  it was enough for Loki to commit murder.  He was having quite a difficult time not tearing the good Captain’s limbs off his body. Softening his tone, Steve practically pleaded, “Loki.  Wait.  I… I can help.” Turning his attention fully to your former flame, Loki purred venomously, “You can help?  I’d love to know what entails, Captain.” “I can get you into the place and take you exactly where you need to go.  Fury’s going to hate it, but I’m tired of taking orders that hurt the people that-”  His pause was as lingering as the look he gave you, “- That I love.”  Before Loki could offer a sincerely sassy reply you grabbed his sleeve, tugging, “Um… Excuse us a minute Steve.” Pulling him down the hall of a home that felt like a familiar faced stranger, you waited until you had a bit of distance from Steve before harshly whispering, “How long were you listening?”

Serving you that small, sexy smile, Loki grinned, “Long enough.  How did you know I was there?” “You are sneaky, but even you, God of Mischief, cast a shadow.” Swinging you close enough to catch your mouth with his own, Loki pressed a sweet kiss there before answering, “A mistake I will be careful not to make again!” “The tower, huh?  That’s where you want to go?”  Grabbing you at the swell of your hips, grinding his frame against your own, “Where I want to go, my darling, is to the nearest bed, preferably naked, with you and you alone.” Your hands traced over the lapels of his borrowed leather duster, pausing only to jerk him closer by the supple fabric, “Hmm… is that so?” “Oh yes…”  Loki’s buttery grumble filled your ear as his strong hands dug into the flesh of your bottom.  For a moment you thought he’d give in to temptation, his sweet lips teasingly close to your own upturned mouth, “But-” On your toes, leaning into Loki’s sturdy, leather draped frame, you paused, “Ugh.  But?” Moving you to a safer, less kissable, arms length away, Loki sighed with the same frustration you felt, “-But, where we need to go, as soon as possible, is the Tower.” Moaning grumpily, you stepped out of the arms you longed to linger in, “I was afraid you were going to say that.” “I know it’s less than… ideal, love, but I did find something useful before the good Captain unburdened his soul this morning.” “And that is?” “Fury’s plan.  At first I couldn’t figure out exactly what he was after.  What did Fury want?  How was I involved?” Loki was dragging this out, loving how it kept you hanging onto his every word, and you rolled your eyes, “Well?  What is it?  Weapons?  War?” “All of that, yes… and… yours truly.”  That triumphant smile that filled Loki’s whole face lit up his mischievous eyes.  Tilting your head, struggling to make sense of what Loki had just told you, “What do you mean, you.  Fury wanted you… to do what, exactly?’ “Loki was going to be the patsy.” You both turned toward the sound of Steve’s baritone at the door, suddenly remembering that the Good Captain was still there and that he was waiting to see what you were going to do next.  Leaning his 100 year old bones into the doorframe, Steve crossed his arms, “The fall guy.  An example of what happens if you cross SHIELD.” “I think, my dear Mr. Rogers, that you mean, I am to be used as an example of what happens if one crosses Nick Fury.”  Loki countered, slinging an arm over your shoulder protectively. The idea was frightening.  A man like Fury had too much power, too much at his disposal.  Just knowing the lengths he had gone to in order to keep you and Loki apart was scary enough.  Making enemies of your friends.  Threatening the people you loved.  Selling your affection to Steve in an effort to control Loki.

Now, the knowledge that all of it was done in an effort to ensure that Nick Fury was the toughest guy in the galaxy, it made your stomach clench.  “What do you mean, an example?” “Unless my intelligence is flawed, I believe that Fury was going to kill me.  Is that correct, Captain?” Steve felt the weight of two sets of eyes on him.  Yours, full of fearful love and blind hope that this was all just some misunderstanding.  Innocent and naive and as lovely as he could ever remember.  Loki’s were reflecting a deeper understanding.  The kind of knowledge that only time in the trenches teaches. There was no answer from Captain Rogers.  None was needed.  Honesty, final and resolute, was out in the open.  “Look.  I know I’m not the guy you want on your side.  I’ve… I haven’t been the man I needed to be.  Not for you-”  Steve locked his bright blues onto you, offering a small smile that spoke of sadness before facing Loki, “-Or you, Loki.  But if you let me help you now, I promise that I can get you into the tower and maybe, one day, you won’t think so little of me.” 

Around you the morning gained strength.  Somewhere nearby birds chirped wildly, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding in the modest little farmhouse and its implications on intergalactic politics.  Without  moving a muscle, Loki plainly asked you, “Do you trust him, dearest?” Squaring your shoulders, you crossed your arms, staring down the man called Captain America.  Nodding decisively, “I do.  I don’t think he’d spill everything like that only to turn on us.  He’s not so bad Loki, really.” “We’ll see about that.  For now, we trust Steve.  Ok, what’s your plan, Rogers?” --- “Hey.  I… I have one other thing to show you.”  Steve was dressed for action in his branded tactical gear, looking every inch the super soldier that Dr. Erskine envisioned. “Steve, we have to get moving.  Loki’s eager and -” “Just open it, ok?”  The envelope was thick with folded paper, the flap tucked under and not sealed.  Clearly it had spent time in and out of pockets, the edges frayed and tattered.  In exasperated curiosity you gingerly pulled the sheets free.

Shaking, your hands trembled holding the once white documents as your voice thickened, “Is this… is this what I think it is?” Cocking his head playfully, that rueful smile pulling at his full mouth, Steve almost seemed cheerful as he teased, “It’s yours.  I think something about this place has always been yours and I want you to have it.” “But-” Folding your small hands in his mighty ones, Steve squeezed gently, “It was a wedding present, or it was supposed to be.” “But we’re not getting married.” “I know.  Still-” “I can’t, Steve.  It’s yours.  Your house, your farm, your dream.” Shaking his head, disagreeing, but feeling lighter than he had in decades, Steve insisted, “Too late, I’m afraid.  It’s done.  Actually, that version of the deed has been signed since our second week here.” As realization sunk in you appraised the man changing right before your eyes, astonished but exhilarated, “Where will you go?” “I dunno.  Think I might need to be alone for a bit.  Maybe see the world… but first-” “First, we have to stop Nick Fury.”

To Be Continued... My Minxes:   @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity​ @mizfit2​ @sammy-jo1977​ @wolfsmom1​ @jessiejunebug​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @jenjen8675309​ @that-one-person​ @roguewraith​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​

[mrsbarnes107]

Secret of the Widow

-part eight-

Summary: Post Endgame time period. The team is healing, trying to navigate this new normal they’ve found themselves in when Bucky and Sam bring home a stray with an attitude and a secret. Will the broken team take her in? Or is it too much to bare?

Warnings: language, *eventual* violence and smut, death, fluff, angst

Pairings: Bucky x OC

Disclaimer: this is posted to Wattpad as well and it WILL HAVE PLOT. I’m a Bucky hoe so there will be smut and romancy stuff but this is a series, so plot plot plot and slow burn.

*Bucky POV*

I've finally gotten away from Wilson and his incessant blabbering, and am now making my way to the training room to find Ali.

Ever since she got here, there's been this ache in the back of my mind. It feels a lot like the first time I saw Steve all those years ago. A dull tug, trying to pull something forward.

She knows me. Knows me well apparently. And I feel deep in this little dark corner of myself, that I know her too. She unsettles me immensely, the thought of her risking herself so wantonly with the Winter Soldier, knowing my past and darkness. It's horrible. But shes also comforting. A type of comfort I haven't felt in a long while.

She's a wild card still. Unpredictable. And yet she peaked my curiosity.

I still can't get her teary blue eyes out of my mind. I'm thankful I heard her sneak past my room the night before. Otherwise I never would have followed her to the lab. Never would have seen her pain and loss so openly. Her cries were heartbreaking, sobs wrenched from deep inside.

I understand what it's like to feel utterly alone and confused. And I wish I could take that feeling from her.

Taking a quick left I stop at the door of the training room, hearing music and the dull thud of knife hitting Kevlar.

God help me I can't get the image of her dancing so carefree in my hoodie out of my head either. Walking into the kitchen to that view, well fuck me back to the 40s. A beautiful woman dancing and singing, a home cooked meal on the stove, and a blade twirling between delicate fingers. She's going to give me whiplash. Or death.

This need to protect and cherish her conflicts with the instinct to be wary and set clear distance and it's worse than the cyclone at Coney Island.

I just know this isn't a good idea.

***

*OC POV*

"You're letting go too soon Doll."

FUCKING BLOODY HELL I'm gonna kill this man.

I very much did NOT let out a tiny squeak for the second time today and launch ANOTHER knife straight at Buckys (admittedly handsome) stupid face.

Okay I did.

With a cocky flourish he catches it and give the blade a nice twirl. "See? Too soon. You're aim would be more accurate if you hold off a second or so before releasing. And the blade would slice through the air better. It's catching too much resistance from the angle."

"You have gotta stop sneaking up on me Sarge. Unlike yourself, I'm too young for heart failure."

Bucky sends me a scowl and scoops up the rest of the knives from the target then makes his way over.

"Sweetheart, I may have some years under my belt, but I'm a fully and exceptionally functioning man." I look down to see the tip of a knife gliding up my stomach and to my throat, pausing to move a lock of hair behind my ear.

Suddenly sweaty I clear my throat and swipe a knife from his metal hand. "I'll take your word for it Buckaroo. Now you wanna show me how exceptionally you can teach?"

At that he steps behind me, chest pressed against my back, hard muscle very much evident under his tight shirt. His hand gliding down my arm softly until he wraps his fingers around mine, now holding the knife together.

His (very beefy) leg presses between my thighs, allowing his foot to hook around mine and reposition my leg.

Hell in a handbasket its fucking hot in here. Jeez. My heart is going wild and I know for a fact Bucky can hear it.

His breath ghosts along my neck as he murmurs low against my ear.

"You're quick and underestimated because of your size. Use that more to your advantage and strike like a little viper. Fast and deadly."

He guides my hand as if drawing the knife from my thigh holster, making my hips shift back against his. As our arms make a slow, practiced arc Buckys metal hand squeezes my hip telling me when to release the knife.

With another light squeeze he steps back and nods for me to continue.

This man will undoubtedly be a distraction in the field if I don't get it together.

With a sigh I drop to a knee only to pounce back up in a spin while drawing the blade, letting it sail through the air in complete silence, slicing through it only to come to a halt with a smack that echoed through the room. In the blink of an eye it went from my fingertips to the mannequins skull a good twenty yards away.

He really didn't need an ego boost but damn if he isn't talented.

"Better. Now let's see how you do hand to hand."

I was suddenly back to the mat with a very heavy soldier pinning my body down, knife pressing into the hollow of my throat.

I let out a soft grunt as piercing blue eyes filled with concealed torment and a hint of playfulness met my own. "Well this brings back memories... for me at least."

Using his confused pause as an advantage, I run my foot along the inner seam of his sweatpants as the other slips from between his to hook around his thigh.

A startled grunt escapes open lips and the knife moves a fraction as his hold loosens. With considerable effort I had the hulking soldier underneath my straddling hips, knife now running up his chest, small cuts appearing along his shirt.

Large hands rest on my thighs, squeezing with every dip of the blade as it runs along the ridges of concealed muscle.

"Dirty move Doll."

With a small shrug his shirt gets cut open completely. "It can get dirtier Sarge."

I shift against his hips and his hands clamp down hard, keeping my legs in place, most definitely leaving Bucky shaped bruises.

"Are we ever gonna have that conversation you promised? Cause I feel like I'm missing some important pieces to our story."

"Huh, I thought this was a training session, not a slumber party." With another squirm against his crotch he lets out a low growl and I hop up, tossing the knife into the floor by his head. "Come and get me Barnes."

With that I took off down the hallway, thundering footsteps quickly catching up with mine. Damn super soldier speed.

As his arm wrapped around my waist I let out a giggle and ducked underneath it, landing a blow to his stomach. Which did little more than make him let out a grunt of air as I dropped to swipe his legs from beneath him.

With a roll Bucky jumped back up and caught my arm, spinning me against the wall.

His thigh pressed between mine as his metal hand locked my arms above my head, our chests heaving together despite the minimal effort of the chase.

The forgotten blade appeared in his other hand, the sharp tip trailing down my arm, dipping along the collarbone. Buckys head tilted as my heart beat went double time, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

With a smooth flick of his wrist a bead of blood trailed down my throat, stopping between the swells of my breast, Buckys eyes following the slow path returning to mine darkened and razor focused.

With a glimpse to the lip I trapped between my teeth he cocks his head with a suspicious glare. “Bringing back more memories Sweetheart?”

“I don’t know, is it Sarge?”

Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get you-

Buckys hips press firmly into my own, his thick thigh shifting higher, now tight against the needy heat between my legs. A very noticeably large and stiff bulge pressed into my hip. How am I not on fire yet?

A small whimper escapes my lips as Bucky trails his mouth and nose along the length of my neck, beard scratching deliciously against heated skin. My hips bucked, wonderful friction meeting my clothed center, a moan escaping with a sigh as I repeated the action.

Bucky growled low in his throat as his hips snapped against mine, leg tensing against my soaked cunt. “I might not remember our past yet Doll, but I remember this feeling. Your warmth. First time I looked into those big blue eyes I knew you were gonna ruin me. Had no idea who you were, but fuck it all I knew you somehow.”

With a slight tug he released my arms, hands falling to my waist, tracing a path along my body.

I rested my palm against his heart, as the other cupped his cheek. Thumb tracing his red lips I looked into lust blown confused eyes. “Maybe one day you’ll remember our story, until then I’ll remember for the both of us.”

A rough thumb brushes over a hard nipple as his hips start to rock steadily into my own. A small moan escapes as my fingers tangle in Buckys thick hair. His mouth once again finding my neck, this time leaving hot kisses. His tongue traced along my ear, teeth nipping along the skin until he reached the spot on my neck that made me keen.

His lips kissed a smile into my skin as he sucked it into his mouth, leaving his mark on my body. My greedy hand began to make its way to the band of his sweats as he-

“Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barnes, the team needs you in the conference room immediately.” Friday said from above us, damn near giving me a heart attack.

Cockblock. “Fucking hell.” I mutter as my head tilts back to rest against the wall, Buckys hot breath puffing against my chest from where his face is pressed into my shoulder. I run my fingers through his hair for a moment, relishing his warmth after so long being cold.

Bucky pressed a kiss to my collarbone as I clear my throat. “Well, duty calls soldier.”

As he backs away and releases my body, I rock onto my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before swiftly walking to the conference room.

I’m almost certain these shorts are ruined. My sanity is not far off either.

[eleventhdoctorsangel]

If only I knew what my heart was telling me

Summary: Living in Arcadia I never thought that living below the city was a city of trolls. Now it seems that everyone or everything trying to end to the world in Arcadia. But despite all of that i knew that I could always count on the friends in my life to help me. But now the world is coming to an end again but this time it just might actually happen.

“I don’t know Claire. It was just the past Douxie that called me pretty.” I said. “If the past Douxie thinks you’re pretty than I’m sure our Douxie thinks you’re pretty too.” Claire said. “When we get back to our time I’ll talk to him” I said. The party kept riding until we reached Killahead Bridge where we came to a stop. Lancelot got off his horse and drew his sword as he started to look around hoping to find one of the escaped prisoners. I looked over to Claire who had the same look that I did. Hoping that Lancelot wouldn’t find anyone. Then Lancelot started making his way over to a tree when Jim was pushed out from behind a tree. “Aha! Oh he-hello!” Jim said waving at us “Get them!” Arthur yelled. Everyone started to chase them. Claire and I chased them. Then I say Douxie and Archie ride past us. My horse came to a stop in front of a creepy looking woods. “They’ve entered the wild wood. Abandon the horses. We head on foot.” Arthur said. I swung my foot around hoping down from my horse. “Forget him. Stick to the plan.” I heard Douxie say as I saw Merlin walked past me. Well this could be better. “I’ll take the king.” Douxie said as he hopped down from his horse. “I’ll cover Morgana.” Claire said. “I’ll keep us all from dying.” I said. “And let’s just focus on getting these royal siblings to hug and make up.” Archie said. “And not die.” Claire said. “Uh yes that too.” Archie said. “How could you have forgotten that Archie.” I said as I helped Claire down from her horse. Archie jumped down for Douxie’s shoulder as Douxie walked up to Arthur and Steve finally caught up to us. “About time Steve.” I said as Claire followed Morgana. “What are those two doing?” Steve asked. “Trying to get Arthur and Morgana to make up.” I said. “Easier said than done.” Steve said. “You’re telling me.” I said.

No Ones POV

After and try and fail from both Claire and Douxie. Douxie had to think up of another way to the Morgana and Arthur to make up to save the timeline so the four of them can get back to their timeline. “Mm not much love left between them. If only you could make him remember that good old days.” Archie said as he a Douixe came across a tree with Arthur, Gwen and Morgana names carved into it then jumped off of Douxie’s shoulder. “Maybe I can.” Douxie said putting his hand on the tree as magic came from his cuff and turned the carved names glow blue then went back to normal. Douxix turned around to face Arthur. “Say my liege didn’t you used to spend time in this wood?” Douxie asked but already knowing the answer. “Yes. As a boy. Much time was lost in this accursed forest. I often fled to these woods to escape form growing responsibilities.” Arthur said walking over to tree. Douxie moved closer to Claire as Arthur had touched the tree so it would start to so the enchantment that Douxie put on it. Arthur let out a gasp as blue light emerged from the tree causing the other knights to cry in fear. The sounds of children laugher could be heard. Merlin looked over to Douxie knowing that he must have been the one to cause this. Douxie looked at Merlin giving him the sign of the horns while sticking his tongue out. Merlin rolled his eyes and let out a scoff. “Stand down. We’re not in danger. Uh my lord.” Merlin said as he walked up to Arthur but Arthur had put his sword up stopping Merlin from coming any closer to him. The three children came out from behind the tree. “Gwen. My betrothed. My beloved. She was the heart of me.” Arthur said as the children chased each other around then the little brother carved the names into the tree. The two little girls ran through Morgana. “Mm we loved these woods. The freedom they offered. The wood showed us kindness for our courage. Gwen and I were never scared. ” Morgana said. As everyone watched the children version of Gwen and Morgana as they went up to Nari. Nari smiled kindly at the two as she hopped down from the rock she was on. “Arthur however.” Morgana said as the child version of Arthur went after Nari. “I knew what danger lurked in the darkness. As we grew older and duty kept me inside Morgana encouraged Gwen brought her out when she should have stayed safe within Camelot.” Arthur said as older version of Gwen and Morgana appeared. “Arthur always blamed me for our moonlight trips. But that night it was Gwen pulling me out of the door.” Morgana said as Gwen tripped over a root and fell into a hole below. Douxie had glanced over to Y/n who was standing by Steve watching the story unfold. “We’d stumbled into a stalking nest. It was afraid.” Morgana. “That night Gwen went into the woods and never returned. You sister should have known better.” Arthur said. “You never forgave me. And when my own gifts blossomed you saw yet another abomination. Ordered Merlin to teach me to control that part of me though Gwen loved magic as I did.” Morgana said as she walked up to the projection of Gwen creating a flower with her magic. Arthur following behind her. “Yes. Yes she did. I. I miss her terribly.” Arthur said as the projection that Douxie casted faded. “As do I brother.” Morgana said as she and Arthur looked at each other. Arthur gave her a small smile in return. Douxie and Claire quickly turned around to check the time map. The timeline were both Arthur and Morgana lived was still up. “It’s working.” Douxie said. At that moment Lancelot came running back. “Troll! We found one!” Lancelot cried out. Arthur let out a growl. “I will lose no one else to those creatures. To arms.” Arthur said walking away from Morgana. Then the time map went back to show the timeline where Arthur will die. “No no no no no! Not now!” Douxie said. “Oh no! Jim.” Claire said as she ran forward. Right as Douxie was about to close the time map another timeline showed up. This one now showing Y/n with the Arcane Order. Y/n no longer looked like herself. Her face was sunken in some and void of any emotion. Her eyes looked dead and almost black not the green that Douxie always loves looking into. “No no no. Oh fuzz buckets.” Douxie said. “How are you going to stop that?” Archie asked. “I don’t know Arch.” Douxie said closing the time map. “Are you going to tell her?” Archie asked. “No. I’m going to stop it so I don’t have to tell her.” Douxie said. “Yes because keeping something like this from her will definitely get her to like you more.” Archie said. “Wait do you know something I don’t Arch?” Douxie asked. “I guess they were right true love is blind.” Archie said walking away. 

End of No Ones POV 

I was standing behind Steve and Claire was next to me. I looked around to try to find Douxie but I didn’t see him. “Where’s Douxie.” I whispered to Claire. Claire also looked around. “I don’t know I could have sworn that he was right behind me.”  Claire whispered back right as Douxie and Archie caught up to us. “Steady men! Remember your training. Kill the beast!” Lancelot yelled. As the knights ran forward. “Wait kill? I thought this was catch and release!” Steve yelled as Morgana, Claire, Douxie and I ran following the knights to stop them from killing anyone. I looked to see one of Gunmar soldiers as one of the knight shout an arrow at it making it grunt out in pain. Three other knights started to put chains around it. “Take the best down.” Arthur said. “Arthur no!” Morgana cried out. “Squire Steve will you do the honors?” Lancelot asked as he threw a sword to Steve. The troll lunged at Steve making him scream as he fell back. Arthur had stepped in between them. “Careful young. Show these beats no sympathy.” Arthur said. Then Arthur kick the troll in the chest making it step backward into the sunlight. “Huzzah! Huzzah!” Arthur and the knights said lifting their swords in the air. I started to hear growling I looked over to see Bular coming out for where Steve. “Steve look out!” I screamed. Bular picked Steve up by his shoulder and threw him. “Bular the Butcher!” Lancelot call out. “The Gumm-Gumm prince himself!” Galahad said. Bular ran at Arthur. Arthur tried to hit Bular with his sword Bular jumped over him bringing out his sword swinging it at Arthur. Then everyone tried to fight him. “I’ll drink your blood out of a goblet made of your skull!” Bular said as he fought Arthur. Bular knocked Arthur sword out of his hand then knock him to the ground. Bular walked over to Arthur picking him up by the throat and slamming him against a tree. “I’ll crave you open let your guts spill out!” Bular said. “My king.” Galahad yelled. “Arthur!” Lancelot yelled. Bular drew his sword back then tried to stab Arthur but I used my magic to stop his sword and Douxie was using his to keep Bular’s arm in place. “There’s no spilling anything today!” Douxie yelled. Merlin used his magic to create a seal as Douxie pull Bular back trapping him in the seal. Bular they to get out but didn’t. “Finish it then fleshbag!” Bular yelled. “The spwan of Gunmar. I won’t dull Excalibur’s edge with you.” Arthur said as he picked up his sword walking over to Bular and kicked him in the face. Bular let out a grunt. “Drag this monster back to Camelot! I have plans for him. The rest with me! My blade hungers.” Arthur said putting Excalibur up in the air. “As you wish milord. Onward!” Lancelot said. “Who’s the monster here?” Morgana said.

We walked for a bit before Lancelot found some tracks. “These tracks are fresh! The other beasts can’t be far milord. Best we spread out flank them!” Lancelot said as he got up. “Go.” Arthur said as the knight that were left started to go looking for the other trolls.  As Morgana and Claire walked past him Arthur stopped them. “And you time to pick a side. You would do well not to return with a clean sword.” Arthur said. Morgana glared at him as she walked away. Morgana, Claire, Douxie and Merlin went one way while I went with Steve, Lancelot, Galahad and Arthur. For some reason they had let Steve take the lead. “Great we’re going to die,” I said quietly to myself as we came to a path I didn’t like to look of. “This area is dangerous but there’s no way around.” Lancelot said. Steve cleared his throat. “Fear not for Steve will scout the enemy base.” Steve said walking forward. “Hold squire. Watch out for the.” Lancelot said. But Steve had went ahead walking forward setting off traps that sent Porcupine like needles shooting at Steve. I heard everyone wince. Then it turned into laughter from Lancelot and Galahad. Arthur looked done with this all. I was just used to Steve being well Steve. Steve finally fell face first into the ground. “That one’s gotta hurt!” Galahad said as he and Lancelot with up to Steve each one grabbing an arm. “Well done Squire Steve. Now the path’s clear.” Lancelot said as he and Galahad start dragging Steve along. “I love you guys. You guys are my best friends.” Steve said. After we got through that path came getting those needles out of Steve. Which they looked to me to get them out. Lancelot and Galahad got Steve into a standing up position. I let out a breathe as I cross my arms into a x form then quickly broke them apart as my magic ripped out a the needles at once making Steve whimper in pain. “Sorry about that Steve I tried to make it as painless as I could.” I said. “No no. I get it.” Steve said still in pain. Lancelot walked away. Steve and I followed him. From where we were I could see Jim with that female troll that he escaped with. “But you see? They’re not all bad.” Jim said. “Shh I’ve got one in my sights.” Lancelot said to Steve and I. “This one’s sort of sweet.” The female troll said. “uh oh no what do I do, what do I do?” Steve said. Making me roll my eyes. “Such conflict. Oh snap! Uh mosquito!” Steve yelled smacking Lancelot in the face. Which made Lancelot release the arrow. But the time I tried to use my magic the change the direction to the arrow it had already hit the female troll. “Clumsy jackanapes!” Lancelot yelled at Steve. Lancelot tried to shot another arrow but Steve did the same thing. I took that to sneak away. I had jumped down to the ground below using my magic to soften the fall and not break my legs. I ran toward where Jim and the female troll ran to. I saw Jim on the ground. “Jim.” I said. Jim had turned to look at me and I saw that his eyes were red.  

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