#and i was like. we're not going to get along

[lunarriviera]

There's actually a couple more additional aspects that can make a difference, if you're a fiction writer, to help your reader. 1. We all know that the most common narrative tag should be "says" or "said" (depending on what verb tense you're writing in). But given that, it's useful to vary the way that's structured as well, alternating it with the noun/subject:

"Spock, I'm tired of this," Kirk said. "I don't want to go on this way any longer." "I see," said Spock, after a moment. There was a pause. He said, "Would you be willing to explain what is troubling you?"

In this example the verb hasn't changed, but the order in which it's deployed has (though tbh if I weren't making that point I probably would have introduced the third utterance with, "before he added").

2. Vis-à-vis the point about paragraph breaks letting the reader know that someone new is speaking, it's really important to keep the utterances of a single character together. Even when the speech acts are broken up by a fair amount of description:

"Fine," says Watson, shortly. He bends down to the dining table then and concentrates on making his sandwich: brown bread, butter, and a thick layer of strawberry jam. Outside their flat, the starlings are deafening, clustering noisily around Mrs. Hudson's bird feeder. "There's just one more thing, Sherlock," he adds, as he slams the two slices of bread together. "Oh? And what's that," asks Sherlock, not looking around his newspaper.

I often see writers tempted to start a new paragraph at any point between Watson's first and second utterances, but please resist that temptation. Otherwise we're going to have to reread it at least twice to figure out what's going on. Always save your white space for a change of character, in dialogue. (And conversely don't add a space when a character simply changes the subject. If it's still the same character, it's still the same utterance/speech act.)

3. In both of the above examples, the narrative tag comes after the utterance, which is typical, but if you do that too repetitively it gets boring like anything else. Start some paragraphs/sentences with description or exposition, then drop in the utterance. It's best if you go back and forth between these. Changing length of speech acts is very good too! People don't speak in complete sentences anyway.

John didn't respond for a moment, but sat motionless, looking out over the water. When he finally spoke his voice was hoarse. "Why? You owe me that much." "Fine! I'll tell you." This was followed by a bewildering silence during which Rodney walked around in a circle waving his hands, and then stood spluttering inarticulately. "Rodney?" John turned around despite himself. McKay kicked a chair before glaring at him. "You have a master's degree! How are you this dense? Were you ever going to— Sheppard narrowed his eyes. "To what?" "Ask me to marry you!"

I threw in a couple other little tricks in here to keep things moving, though it's pretty terrible as far as dialogue goes. What I usually do is write dialogue, then later try to take out approximately half of it. This is an old hack I learned during a playwrighting class in grad school. We actually had the actors fold their sides in half and only read the first halves of the written dialogue. This will never work, we thought, it won't make any sense. IT WAS INCREDIBLE, PLS TRY IT.

(and no I don't know why everyone in the examples is breaking up i'm a angst-loving pantser okay lbr these men aren't always going to get along)

Writing Tips

Punctuating Dialogue

✧

➸ “This is a sentence.”

➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.

➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”

➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”

➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”

➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”

➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.

“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.

“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”

➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”

➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”

However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!

➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.

If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)

➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“

“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.

➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.

➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”

➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.

“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”

➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.

“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”

[baepsays]

Suck it and See ⸻ .03 how you met stoner Suguru.

description: of all places, Geto Suguru didn't expect to meet a girl with knee high socks, who practically pulled him in like an eager sacrifice to the Siren— at a frat party surrounded by smoke.

cw: use of she/her pronouns, fem oriented reader, mentions of drugs, weed, and alcohol; nothing much this is mostly a meet cute-ish, lore stuff really, artic monkeys references everywhere, they mild nsfw stuff.

playlist inspired by the content.

What a pleasure it is to be surrounded by sweaty people you barely know in a room full of smoke. All because your best friend is an extroverted social butterfly of a freak.

Safe to say, Geto Suguru would be anywhere but here right now. But maybe he does need some free alcohol and free cigarettes, a finance degree is the furthest thing from causation of sobriety. And as an average university student reliant on caffeine, alcohol, and cigarettes—completing his last semester and starting his big-time finance bro job later this year might I add—he is oddly conservative when it comes to weed though, if we're talking about ways to numb yourself.

The fact he has seen people actually do much worse actual hard drugs and yet he has a bigger opinion about the devil's lettuce of all things available out there. The only viable reason which can be given is that he had a stoner roommate during his first semester and it was the worst time of his entire university life. And honestly, he has seen Gojo get high for the sake of trying it, that was not fun for anyone but Shoko who was filming Suguru trying to stop Gojo from jumping off the balcony to chase a cat he apparently saw (there was no cat).

But these are excuses really. Well, Geto Suguru would not say he is repulsed by weed. In fact, he has tried it himself once. It was mostly about going along with his high school debate team who wanted to get high during one of their out-of-town tournaments. And guess what. High Suguru went on and blurted out all his little animosities to big grudges against everyone there and somehow fell asleep next to a trashcan in the hallway. Thankfully no one remembered and the video footage of all of this happening went into his hands first. He made sure to delete everything and ask around without being suspicious if anyone remembered anything he said. He was safe since they all forgot about everything.

Since then, he has steered clear of weed, it does odd things to him which no other substances do. Even when he is drunk out of his mind or buzzing with caffeine and nicotine, he is never impulsive. He always has control. And the fact he let that control slip is very scary. Matter of fact, despite his side hobby of making fun of a scared Gojo during horror movie marathons, Suguru himself didn't like being scared by something unknown or letting himself slip out in front of someone he would rather not have seen him like that .

Yet here he was, at one of the more famous frats who are known for their weed more than their alcohol and what not. I mean, it's not about where you end up but what you're looking for, right? Maybe that doesn't make much sense but so doesn't his last assignment of the semester before exams start, which carries 40% of his marks.

And for someone who isn't looking for weed, his amazing friend makes sure to pull him right into the room full of—who apparently seemed to be—stoners. Supposedly Satoru knows someone there, but he also knows way too many people for his liking. The amount of time he has to stop, stand, and stare around to wait for Satoru to finish chatting with yet another stranger—infinite really.

Regrets of ending up in that room without any alcohol in his hand, seemed to have flown right out of the room with the smoke. And it might as well have been the residual of weed in the air, but what's happening in his head was alarming. Right across from the person Satoru apparently knew, sat this gorgeous being, looking ever so effervescent and oozing mystique surrounded by clouds of smoke (he is a poet everyone). Wearing, what in his mind seemed like, the most poorly constructed skirt, practically giving away the secret eighth wonder of the world—which are those thighs. And is that fishnet? Someone please check on him, is he having a nosebleed? If not, that tight top perfectly snug around your chest, might do the job. More over the breasts, it was the neck. How can someone find a neck that beautiful? I wouldn't know, ask Suguru.

Real question is who wears knee high socks in the summer? He is not complaining, it somehow really works for you, and it works wonders on him. Again, it might be the weed. It has to be, because Geto Suguru, who is the most calculated person you'll know—sly little shit who is known for being the level headed, mysterious, lady's man— he may be just as much of a menace as Gojo and just as silly, he just knows how to mask it. And he's losing it. He's losing that control, because why aren't his ears working? His eyes refuse to focus on anything but you dragging a smoke out of the joint, which was passed to you by someone. And his legs are moving on their own towards the couch where you are sitting with the only person who you seem remotely interested in, 'might be her friend' he assumes, while ignoring this other guy who seems to be high off his mind talking about who knows what. His ears already made the effort of blocking out every sound, including Gojo's, who was calling him out because he wanted to introduce Suguru to his friend.

"Hey"

Real smooth from Mr. Lady's man over here. Incredible opener to introduce yourself to this person who may or may not be a witch cause why is he completely under this sort of trance as if he is the one sucking on that joint. Also, the fact he is just awkwardly standing in front of you while you look up at him through your lashes, unbothered and definitely high, still sitting on that couch—he must've inhaled too much weed smoke.

"Did you mean to say that to me? Because I think your friend needs you over there actually."

You say after blinking at him twice, then point across to you where Gojo and his friend are sitting. It's rather a given to be confused by this random long-haired Rapunzel to awkwardly stand before you like he doesn't know any better about how to interact socially, he's not drunk definitely, you saw him and his friend stroll in through the doors just a few minutes ago. Why would you even bother to care enough to remember that? Well, Rapunzel here is too gorgeous for his own good, secondly, you're high and feeling rather needy.

Pre-finals week suck, universal sentiment shared by all degree pursuing students. So here you are on this couch, in some frat, with your friend who's seeing one of the frat members. All you expected was some good quality rich boy weed and alcohol, nothing more really. Sleeping with someone you met at a frat party, reeks of STDs. And yet here you are looking at this gorgeous man looking like he doesn't have any thoughts behind his eyes, contrary to what you assumed, from afar he looked like a manipulative man whore. The world might be full of surprises or he's a theatre major.

"Huh?" — is all Suguru somehow manages to utter, it's illegal to smell that good while also smelling like weed, what god forsaken perfume you're using? Those eyes are enough, why do you need to crawl through all his five senses and wrap your hands around his brain.

"Huh." You say with one raised eyebrow. Seems like you've found yourself an excuse to escape.

"Seems like you don't know anything other than three lettered words starting with h."

He just stares into your eyes and lets you throw that jab at him. Really just too enchanted to speak, it's not that this is something he's choosing to do. He'd rather sit across from you and socialize with Gojo, while staring you down from time to time, then after much considerable eye contact, he'll slide himself to your side of the couch, asking your permission to have a seat, with much charisma no one can deny.

Yet here he is, not drunk, or losing his mind with weed—purely high off of sucking in your presence. This is only the second time he has lost control over a situation, and this time he is completely sober. New discoveries are made every second he supposed. Because if a sly talker like him, one who especially finds existential joy in countering the opposing person's jabs, is standing here tongue tied—he believes climate change can be reversed then. (How wishful)

You get off the couch to stand facing him, way too close to him for his sanity's sake, between the narrow gap between him and the couch—you might be shorter than him but your gaze is too piercing. And yet he cannot look away.

"Would you rather I dragged you out of this room? Maybe the smoke is getting to your head huh?"

Takes a second for Suguru to contextualize what you just suggested. And without any power to verbally respond, he simply nods into agreement. Somehow in that moment his incognizant brain decided that maybe leaving himself to your devices in this situation is the most natural thing to do. In fact, you might as well have all consumed him and he couldn't care any less.

All he cares about is that you're taking his hands in your hands, which made him think it might be a missing puzzle piece that only fits in perfectly with his, and dragging him out after a little bye to your friend and Gojo as well. Suguru is really out of it. He's not going to hear the end of it from Gojo, while he retells this story to their friends in the most overexaggerated way, which is so impossible given how ridiculous he is acting right now. Anything less dramatic than a Shakespearean play wouldn't do justice to exactly what played out in there. Yet Gojo Satoru will make sure to put a shame to Shakespeare's dramatics. That's his headache for later, let's focus on the ache in his palpitating heart.

You drag him out of that room, into the big living room or space and then drag him through the crowd to one of the rooms on the first floor, and take him straight to the balcony attached to it. The balcony sits right above the pool. Below you two, you can see most people congregating around there, swimming or just dancing or talking. Most of the speakers are there playing every frat bro's Spotify rotation probably. It's dark enough and tucked away nicely for anyone to notice you two there even if they look up—you saw this balcony the first time you visited this house with your friend cause of the guy she was seeing and since it was not a party, it was clear in the daylight that it was a nice place to people watch from. Or just enjoy the music,

'And her lips are like the galaxy's edge

And her kiss the colour of a constellation fallin’ into place'

Suguru couldn't agree more. If he didn't know any better— he'd say the song was about you. Because right now he is pulling out the lighter out of his pockets. Moving it towards your direction and halting halfway in the little space in between you two. Suguru wouldn't write this out as some kind gesture. He would never even think of sharing his prized lighter. It has been with him since he found it one day visiting his grandma's village home with his parents. Lying in a puddle of mud near the river that flowed behind her house. Scratch random people he wouldn't even let Satoru touch it or let Shoko take a light with it. Yet here he is— silently helping you out all because it looked like with the roll of a joint tucked in your bra, you forgot to bring a light.

You stare back and forth between the burning flame and his face. Contemplating perhaps. Then you move forward grab a hold on his hand, which was holding up the lighter, just a bit far for you to easily lean in and ignite the blunt. So you move, move to now sit face to face with him, both your knees on either side of his thighs—hovering over him, hands holding his, which was holding his silver lit up lighter. You lean forward probably closer to his face than the lighter even, all while keeping constant eye contact. You move your head to your left and finally burn the joint pressed in between your lips, after what seemed like an eternity.

Once the smoke comes out, you unwrap your lips from the joint and smile at Suguru, not one of those half smiles you've been throwing at him all this time. A genuine laidback smile.

"Thanks uh- oh wait I don't even know your name"

"Well I haven't given it to you yet."

"You gave me your lighter, might as well give me your heart. How much more could your name matter?"

Well he might as well have given you his heart and what even is in the name, if he could he would give you the entirety of the galaxy, but It would probably fade out in your comparison.

"Suguru. Geto Suguru."

"Nice to meet you Suguru."

"And what more might you need other than my lighter, heart, and name in exchange for your name?"

"I don't know? Anything tempting you are offering? Perhaps a seat right here?"

Did you mean right there? There on his lap?

"I wouldn't ever deny you anything."

So you did in fact mean his lap. Cause you perch right up on there and drag a long smoke out of your joint, blowing the smoke up in the sky above you two.

"L/n Y/n. And I'll hold you onto that claim."

"Do you always ask people for names in exchange for a seat on their lap?" Suguru smirks and tries to regain some confidence and control over the situation. If he wants to keep you right where you are, he would need to get out of the haze of intoxication — which was ironically not the weed in the air but just your existence.

"I never really ask for names. Really bad at remembering them. And as for seats, hmm I don't know. Your legs looked more comfortable and warm than the cold floor. And you looked sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Why? Does that not describe your —chase Atlantic and Artic Monkeys, cigarette smoker, fuck weed i am better than that, only dark colors— aesthetic?"

"How did you know I don't like weed?"

"Made a face right as you walked into the room down there. Also anyone else would've asked to borrow this by now." You move the blunt in between your fingers slightly to signify what you're talking about.

"Does that not bother you?"

"I mean it doesn't bother you that I am smoking this right in your face, if you had said something I would've respected that as well. I don't really care what you think is the standard for intoxication."

Suguru just smiles. He doesn't really have a topic exactly to speak about. He is in fact not capable of doing much right now you've rid him of the taste of control and the only taste he wants to be acclimated with from this moment onwards is yours. And he doesn't care about this change. He knows your name, he knows the feel of your fishnets against your skin. He knows the material of your lethal skirt. He knows the vanilla and jasmine notes of your perfume. He knows the exact color of your eyes and how many eyelashes you have. And he thinks that is enough.

'You have got that face that just says

"Baby, I was made to break your heart"'

You might as well break his heart, do as you please with it. It burnt away from his grasp the moment you burnt the end of your joint using his lighter.

"Looks like they are more intoxicating than any drug in existence." Was he talking about the blunt? Because his eyes were aimed at your lips. And he was unaware of what he even let slip out of his own lips.

"Suck it and see. You never know." 

Not wasting a second with your unaware confirmation, Suguru moves forward. The hand on your fishnet clad thigh tightens, digging into the supple skin, weaving the fingers with the fishnet itself. The other hand, coming up to your lips, taking out the joint and throwing it out somewhere on the balcony, his fingers first touch your lips with light touches as if one touch is too heavy and you'll disperse into thin air. Slowly the fingers on your lips start pressing down on, well past both of your lips, making an audible gasp leave your mouth involuntarily. His fingers dig around the entrance to your mouth— rubbing your lips, then proceeds to press down on your tongue and graze over your teeth interchangeably. All while staring into your eyes, or staring at you, your eyes might as well be all white or shut close. Anything partially visible, is all a blur. 

And you allow him all of it. You allow him to twist his fingers up to rub his rough finger pads on the along the expanse of your hard palate and soft palate, borderline trying to choke you. You simply allow it. You allow those hands to explore parts of you even out of your own reach. One digging in your mouth, other trying to make itself at home on your thighs—practically memorizing every little stretch mark running along your skin. He wants to know it all, have it all and who are you to deny a starved man? 

When he's had enough of his little exploration, his own pairs of lips come crashing down on you. A sigh of almost a relief, leaves both your lungs. It is not quite relief, it is nice to finally have him kiss you—but his lips are the kind to leave your head dizzy, head swaying, forgetful of the whole process of breathing through your nose while he devours you, eyes flickering like unreliable headlights on the highway. You might as well be crashing out. 

His lips are caging in yours, tongue fencing with yours, hands roaming around you like he's gonna find the most prized treasure on the surface of your skin. Guiding your hips to force down on his lap and roll them into little grids of desperation. Who was exactly the desperate one here? 

At that point it all becomes too overwhelming to have your ability to breath taken away. So you push him off, with no ease. It was as if pushing him and pulling yourself back simply made him hold onto you harder. And when his lips did leave you alone, they go on to chase your lips to find his rightful place back on them.

You put one of your hands on his mouth to halt him, all that does is make you have goosebumps all over your body—having him look up to you with his desperate and hazed mono lids, the purple-brownish shade of his pupils burning you up. And him just heaving in your hand, short of breath, was of no help either. 

“I was talking about the joint.” you breath out with an exasperated sigh.

“Well I am not sorry.” He leaves a feather light kiss on your hand covering his mouth.

“What even are you?” Genuinely, how does a man with gorgeous hair and horrible vocabulary make you fold so easily? 

“‘I am a fool for you.” 

A/N: dividers by @/sister-lucifer & @/omi-resources, header from my own gallery. And I didn't proofread half of this ok IT IS HARD TO READ YOUR OWN WORK

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[floralscented]

♡ㅤSPORTS CAR! with [ dean winchester ] & [ angel!reader ]ㅤ (18+!!)

. . . dove really likes dean's car. or, let him drive it real far.

notes, i was going to post a dean & angel thing for his birthday... better late than never! have a sports car by tate mcrae inspired drabble as an apology<3 THIS IS SMUT! MDNI! also i don't think it needs to be said, but don't attempt this at home. all actions performed by professionals!

★ ˚⋆

dean only needs one hand to drive.

it was once something you marveled at — his innate ability to speed down open streets, tires squealing in the dusty dirt roads, as one hand steered the wheel and the other crept up your thigh.

skills needed to be exercised and pushed to strengthen their foundations. that was along the lines of what dean had said, once, before his fingers reached the button on your jeans to undo them.

even broken clocks were right twice a day. dean did not need both hands to steer the car, as he told you, and he did not need both to drive well.

he pushes a little harder on the gas, the engine revving, the sound of it miniscule compared to the mewling in the back of your throat as you ground your hips farther down on the length of his cock. his free hand rests firmly on your waist, trying to keep you steady as you squirmed.

"do you want me to crash, baby?" he asks in your ear, words a little breathless, "is that it?"

your lips stutter open and closed in a wordless denial, only managing to shake your head instead of mouth out a response. dean's grip on your hip guides your shallow movements farther down onto him, stretching your tight heat around the girth of his thick cock. "no, you don't want us to crash, dove," he mumbles, his breath hot in the crook of your neck, mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder, "that'd ruin the fun, wouldn't it? my pretty dove likes the thrill."

dean shifts a little beneath you, the act making him bury deeper into you, a little gasp falling from your pouty pink lips. he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade in response, a shudder wracking through your muscles at the light touch. "yeah? tell me how much y'like it, dove."

you weren't sure that you had the capabilities to say something coherent in that moment, but you choke on a response regardless. "yes," is what comes out, and even then, it's more of a gasp than it is a word. dean chuckles low and raspy in your ear, bucking his hips up in slow, deliberate movements that make his foot press harder on the gas pedal. the engine revs again. your head tips back into his chest. "dean─"

"y'know how fast we're goin'?" dean grunts into your ear, the hand on your hip shifting to grab one of your wrists and pry it off of its death grip on his muscular thigh. he lifts your hand to his mouth for a second, kissing your open palm, before resting it on the steering wheel. "not nearly fast enough."

the same hand reaches across you for your other hand, and finally, you pull your eyes away from the expansive back roads to watch his movements. another kiss to your palm, the other joined at ten and two on the steering wheel. "what are─"

"do you trust me?"

never have you nodded yes faster before. yes, you trusted dean. yes, you would do anything for dean. yes, he knew this; exploited it often, prodding at what he knew was your sole weakness. dean's hand on the wheel lifts off, both of them now going back to your thighs.

"make sure we don't get ourselves killed f'me, yeah?" dean's laugh is breathless and airy, the same nervous energy that you'd heard that first night alone with him, when he'd taught you how to drive. the circumstances were different now; impossibly higher stakes.

you swallow thickly, jerking the wheel to the right again when it starts to drift into wrong lane. you're distracted ─ dean can't possibly expect perfection from you when your head is in the clouds and spinning.

thankfully, there's no scolding or scathing comment. the only thing that comes is a slight lift of your hips with his grip beneath your thighs as he shifts again, half sitting and half sat up. dean bends you over the steering wheel just enough for you to keep a steady control over the car, and just enough to─

a mixture of the car's revving engine and his panting breaths in your ear and skin slapping against skin overwhelm your senses. he's buried inside of you now, enough to where you can feel each thrust bruising against your cervix.

"what would the other angels say if they saw my angel, all spread out for me like this, goin' 78 in a 40?" his hands move to your ass, squeezing the skin between his warm palms, using that grip to work you deeper onto him. you're forced to keep your head forward, eyes on the road, when all you want to do is squirm and bury yourself back into his chest and cry out.

you barely manage a whimpering, throaty whine of, "prob'bly say─ t'slow down─"

dean laughs heartily this time, his nose brushing against your jawline, pressing hot, wet kisses down the column of your throat. his head lifts, and so does one of his hands, fingers grasping the hem of your dress and pulling it up again from where it'd slipped back down.

a glance in the rearview mirror reveals the fabric held tightly between his teeth. his eyes are downcast, watching intently as he buries into you, his cock slick with your juices. his eyes flick up to meet yours, one corner quirked upwards. "eyes on the road, dove."

you glance back out of the windshield just in time to see a stop sign─ and blow past it. dean's head hits the back of the seat with a thump as he laughs this time, and the lightness in his voice is enough to make you laugh, too. as breathless as him, a burst of adrenaline sparking through your veins.

how long had it been since dean felt this free? part of you wishes to keep this moment going forever, to travel the universe in the backroads as he finds ways to bend you and maneuver you around in every space of his car, to wail his name in every state. the other part knows you aren't going to last much longer. there's energy pumping through your veins that shoots straight down to between your legs, your foot moving to rest over his on the gas, pressing down harder.

you expect an easy, tiger. it wouldn't be the first time that you'd tested a limit and found the invisible edge of a barrier. what comes out of dean's mouth is a rasping groan and a, "there's my girl."

he doesn't say anything after that, which somehow proves to make everything all the more intense. kansas is wheatfields and long, winding roads that never seem to end.

the wind rushes in through the open windows, your hair blowing in your eyes, roaring in your ears. how long had it been since you felt this alive?

it's a passing thought, but it leaves traces of itself in your blood. dean deserved to live a little, sometimes; you deserved to live a little all of the time, to let him teach you all that he knew and relive it alongside you.

dean's finger pries your mouth open, releasing your lip from your teeth. "make that face again n' m'not gonna last."

you smile, a wicked little thing that he's began to call your devil's grin. you sink further back onto him with each of his thrusts, and he groans all over again, something unintelligible in your ear about being wicked and unfair and other whining sounds that sound more like excuses to keep this dragging on.

you don't want the moment to end. he doesn't want the moment to end. but fate had its pretty ways of cruelty, and you were beginning to feel the telltale signs of impending bliss. you move to bite down on your lip again and find dean's finger instead, his mouth trailing a string of kisses down your shoulder blade. "nice try, honey."

with the growth of your relationship came a longer list of pet names. dove, baby, honey, my girl. each one set a fire ablaze in your belly. you stumble on a breathy moan, your eyes briefly squeezing shut before you remember they need to be open, your lives in your hands, held delicately between your palms.

"i'm─" the words are difficult. dean likes to talk for the both of you while he fucks the sentiments and the sentences out of you.

somehow, the grind of his hips and each shallow thrust becomes more erratic. "yeah," dean says in response, and it's no clarification to you, either, what he's trying to say.

silence again, except for the wind listening in, and the car's rumbling engine. you're racing against time and yourself, each gasping breath becoming throatier, whinier, dean's hot breath on your sweaty skin making you squirm, until─

you cry out, fingers tightening around the steering wheel, your legs clenching together and foot lifting off of the pedal at the intensity of it. dean's pace never slows even as your heart pounds, each thrust more slick-sounding from the orgasm. you almost lift a hand off of the steering wheel to stop him, to grasp his thigh and pause, but his cock twitches inside of you against the fluttering heartbeat of your sensitive walls, and there's no point to stopping him.

always in sync, now, sam once said in passing after you and dean had stopped dancing around each other. he didn't know how true it really was.

dean's cock stays buried in you, filling you up with the thick and hot release of his come. he presses his forehead to the curve of your neck, his foot slowly easing off of the gas finally. the car slows, but your hands don't leave the wheel, gripping it so tight that your knuckles have paled.

"m'gonna pull over," you mumble, easing the car to the side of the road, the right half of it treading spurts grass and the left still kicking dust and dirt up in baby's wake. "because i can't see."

dean's mouth curves against your skin; you feel it rather than see it, since his face has not left the spot between your shoulder blades yet. "you're a little adrenaline junkie in the makin', y'know that?" a light kiss to one of the ridges along your spine as he slumps back into the seat properly, tugging you down along with him in the process. "gettin' off on the speed and the danger."

he catches your elbow before you rear it back into his ribs. this part is a common occurrence of your little escapades. your tricks are becoming easy to pick up on. "you start wrestlin' me, honey, i'm gonna remind you how that backseat feels."

supposed to be a threat but you both know it's a promise, a given. as if you could ever forget how the leather of the backseat felt on your bare skin, anyways.

you twist your neck around once you've fully rolled to a stop along the side of the road, just enough to see the glaze in dean's glimmering green eyes. the moon hangs above his head, now, painting him in a wash of pale blue. he's always been beautiful, but there's something about the post-bliss of him that makes him devastating.

his smile becomes shier when he notices how you're studying him. you open your mouth to tell him everything you love about him, overwhelmed with it all at once, but he intercepts it with a warm, lingering kiss to your cheekbone.

your eyes close, face scrunching up as the single kiss becomes an onslaught of them over that side of your face. "dean!"

"mm?" he's not deterred, and again, you want to tell him every way that you love him. love how he loves, love how his dark eyelashes frame and brighten the pale of his eyes, love how he's always gentle even when he's trying to be rougher with you, love how he kisses and nips purple bruises into your neck in the shape of hearts.

maybe you would have said it, too. maybe you would have opened your heart and let himself make a home within it, right there on the side of a kansas dirt road, frogs chirping their own soundtrack to your unconventional love story.

the low fuel light dings onto the dash. the words vanish from your mouth, along with the courage you'd built up in your sated daze.

"how fast you think we can get to a gas station?" dean asks, the mischief evident in his voice, as he nips your earlobe between his teeth.

you sit up straighter in his lap, not even bothering to move yourself out of his lap, off of the half-hardness still buried inside of you. "let's find out."

the tires squeal as you peel out of your temporary parking spot, and you realize, then, that you don't really need to tell him how much you love him. not out loud. his arms slinking around your waist, cheek pressed to your skin and your dress low on your back, trusting you fully to drive his car, was love enough.

notes, the innocence is a virtue sequel i never planned on making but we all deserved. sorry if it's bad or incoherent it was actually supposed to be at least 1k shorter than this.

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @bluemerakis @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @cevansbaby-dove @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @florchids @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

[yumeiwei]

DC X DP: One-Shot or Chapters?

So I had this idea, but I wasn’t sure if I should turn it into a long fic or a one-shot. Please help me decide in the comments!

The entire Batfam is on the Batplane with Constantine, who called them for help locating an area that spiked in Death Magic. He has been following these spikes for a while but he was always too slow so now, begrudgingly, he asked the Bat for help.

Batman agreed since Death Magic isn't something he wants just happening all over the world. His kids came along to help, arguing that this might be serious and they wanted to go with.

They reach the top of a mountain that had what seemed to be a ling dried up lake with a figure at the center, looking as if they were giving a prayer.

They set the plane to stealth mode and lowered themselves down. They cautiously walked to the lake edge, wanting to observe first before confronting the figure.

The figure looked androgynous and had a swimmer's build. They were dressed in what looked to be thin, flowy robes that were white with light green accents. They also had what looked to be a silk shall that seemed to be floating.

Suddenly, the figure got up and started dancing, as if in a waltz with someone they couldn't see. Slowly, dim balls of light appeared. Most were either green or blue, but every color imaginable was there.

There was a shift and the balls of light transformed into people-like forms. Ghosts if you will. Hundreds of them. Some taking the hand of the figure and dancing with them, only to let go and give the figure to a new partner.

If they never danced, or if they gave the figure to a new partner, they started floating upwards. That's when the Batfam and Constantine saw that the cloudy sky now had a single perfect circle that allowed the spirits to fly into a soft green glowing light.

Lazarus green. But softer.

As they watched, Batman felt a hand on his shoulders. He tried to grab the hand only to freeze. It was his father.

"We're proud of you, son." The ghost said with a smile as the ghost reached out and suddenly Martha was visible.

Martha smiled, gave a soft kiss onto Bruce's cheeks and danced with her husband into the sky.

---

I'll insert more scenes in the actual fic. Dick's parents, the guy Jason didn't kill but Bruce thought he killed, Tim gets those two assassins that died (can't remember names rn, I'm writing this instead of sleeping), Cass gets the person she killed, Damian gets some of the people he killed.

Jason will probably go up to Danny out of instinct or smt. Danny will ask if he wants to stay or move on and fix his core when Jason says he wants to stay.

So, thoughts?

(Will probably make this Dead on Main, but Brain Dead/Dead Tired has a special place in my heart so idk)

[zoieru]

thoughts about parts of hsr men's bodies, and how they react to your attention on them (mostly cute, not quite nsfw)

Just sum thots I wanted to get down n share, perchance with some like-minded individualss. I sort of yap when I write, not written in perfect grammar or prose. Maybe spoilers for 3.0. no gender, not nsfw, but suggestions splatted about ♡

Aventurine, Sunday, Phainon, Mydei

Aventurine

His hands, fingers, the whole lot. They're so dextrous and slender and nimble, probably from playfully flicking chips between his fingers as a taunt to those at the table. The way the chips twirl between them effortlessly has you often watching in a momentary trance. You sort of chide yourself internally when your thoughts start to drift at how they move, how *able* they are, and the implications of such...

You know he pays a lot of attention to his appearance, so his nails are always seemingly perfect, softly rounded at the edges, clean. It's to an extent that seems kind of impossible, as you find yourself captivated by them when you play with his fingers as you sit together. They're just...pretty. "You got a thing for hands, or is it just me?" He teases, a little smirk tickling the edge of his lips as his eyes glint with that familiar spark of mischief. He's always playing it off, of course, but he can't deny the little flutter he feels in his chest when you kinda admire him like that. There's something different about the way you do it, makes him feel special and wanted. Which the boy deserves in bounds.

Plus he looooves touching you with them. He's just a sort of handsy person, but in a cheeky-reverent kind of way, especially once he notices your attention on them. He'll fiddle purposefully, that frustrating smirk on his mouth, he'll run his fingers over your skin gently, pinching and squeezing here and there, and trace your bottom lip with his thumb when he's got you a bit flustered.

Sunday

For Sunday my first thought was his head-wings, of course, but that would be boring since everyone talks about the way the lil things flutter and fluff up, so we're going for his hair.

Now, Sunday obviously paid attention to his appearance as the Bronze Melodia, and all of his positions. He had to look the part, after all, and his tendency for control seeped into this aspect of his life too. But I like to think he never really saw his hair as anything but a sort of tool, something on him to be viewed and consumed by other people, just as a lot of his life was. (Thinking about Sunday makes me so sad aaa). He looked after it, liked it, but didn't see the utility or pleasure of it outside of that use much.

But when he fell with broken wings, and ended up in the strangely soft and uncomfy-comfy laps of the astral express crew, and others, like you, he, along with other things, started to realise the pleasure and softness that could come from his hair. For instance, along with his wings, if you touch his hair, he's a goner. He's just so...sensitive, and it sends little shivers down his whole body, to where he's almost made docile and incoherent. His brain short circuits a little and he becomes like when you touch a shark on that part of their body where they just become all floppy.

He doesn't even have the energy to be self conscious about it much when you're lacing your fingers through the grey strands, and if he does he'll blush a bit, cutely, and avert his eyes almost grumpily as he just shifts in your lap so his face doesn't have to meet your gaze. Plus, he finds it's one of the only time his yappy brain quiets a little, the sensations like a soothing silk wrapping around the thoughts and making them a bit less intrusive. Basically he's cute as hell, it hurts my soul.

Phainon

Okay, so, I'm gonna go with the expected here but HEAR ME OUT. His eyes are so expressive, even ignoring how intensely blue they are to the point it feels as though a droplet of the sky had just plopped into their depths one day and decided to take up residence hello Satoru ♡.

They're always moving slightly, narrowing a touch when thinking along with that slight pout of his mouth, widening with a gentle spark when he gets an idea or sees something he finds cool (imagine him like...seeing a stupid meme and showing mydei, and mydei just like -_-). When his face lights up, eyes catching that spark of excitement, it's just so sweet and beautiful. You find yourself desperate to keep seeing that light flicker in his eyes, finding things that make him light up.

Then there's when they soften. Usually when he's looking at you. Or mydei stop. He'll be talking or into something and then turn to look at you half way through, his eyes instantly softening ever so slightly. It's enough to make your heart flutter, just that. It's pathetic really, but that's what this puppy will do to you.

If you ever comment on them he'll chuckle a little, maybe bring his hand to his nape, the classic, looking around like 'really? hehe'. He takes the compliment and thinks about it a bit during the day at intervals, feeling warmer inside.

ALSO WHEN HE TILTS HIS HEAD SUBTLY WHEN CONFUSED LIKE A PUPPY OKAY BYE

Mydei

Mydei is hard because (get your mind out of the gutter) I feel like he would be so enthralled and slightly confused by all of your touch, since he hasn't felt much soft and tender affection in his whole damn life. So let's go with his skin, namely, tracing soft and idle patterns on it, anywhere really.

I'm picturing it starting with like...you just idly drawing circles or swirls on his arm or hand while you're relaxing, maybe before sleeping, just at some point. It didn't even really cross your mind that you were doing it, it was just natural. But this man had his eyes locked onto your fingers as they moved, eyeing the movements and taking note of the sensations almost with suspicion, like -what the hell is this and why do I like it-. Basically bro is shook, it's cute.

You'll catch him staring and be like ?? And he'll get a touch embarrassed, try to play it off a bit, grunt and look away a little, but after a bit he'll admit it feels kinda nice and you couldddd do it more if you wanted to. He wouldn't mind. Yknow. And he'll end up enjoying it a lot, anywhere you do it, letting you trace his skin more purposefully, the muscles rippling underneath it, his tattoos. He finds his muscles relax under your touch as if you're weaving some of Aglaea's golden thread over them, soothing them more than he's really felt before. And he'll give you a bit of a grumpy cat face when you stop, like...excuse me what? Keep going???

Anyway kinda thinking about doing more now but like, their reactions to each of these things individually, like playing with their hair or hands. Brainrot. Anyway make sure u ate something today or I'll haunt your dreams bye.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Flirting anon again

Yeah but what if i fuck it up and hurt someone? It's all about pushing lines - is it inevitable that the learning process will push a line too far and hurt the other person? Oh wait no this is the self esteem thing again

so like in the vast vast VAST majority of cases, the worst thing you can do to someone by flirting is like. mildly annoy them.

like, let's be real here. what's actually going to happen? you've approached someone in the space of your choice, you're making small talk, getting to know a little more about them, you're liking the vibe. you ask "hey, would you want to get coffee together sometime?" and they go "oooooh, no thanks" and you go "cool, catch you on the flip side" and you move on. who got hurt there.

even if you get a little spicier and you're like, I don't know, seized with the spirit of courage and say "hey, could I kiss you right now?" and then go ":/ nah mate" like okay! asked and answered! moving right along! no one is being hurt here! you asked a question to give them an option, then (hopefully!!!) respected their answer and shimmied away; that's the ideal outcome.

talking to people is actually so so so so so much easier if you remember that causing someone a moment of irritation or discomfort is not in any way the same thing as harming them. I'm irritated and uncomfortable every single time I take public transit; that doesn't mean anyone is hurting me. the nature of humans interacting with each other is that we're all going to fuck up and piss each other off a little; that's not a crime. that's the cost of doing business re: being a social species.

[ramp-it-up]

Peach, Part IV

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. He wants to move forward with you and now he's got you on his turf.

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two with my whole heart. This is turning into the slowest of burns, sorry not sorry. This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III. We're at the second week of December, there is still so much in my head to say. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, body parts tingling, wild wild thoughts of breeding, taking each other down in various ways, and cock riding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

--------

On one of your many walks along the beach, you teased your cousin about being the future Mrs. Bucky Barnes, and she tried to get you to talk about Steve, explaining some of the backstory to what happened in Atlanta.

But you were intransigent. 

“Look. I know how stubborn you are. And how tough you are, because you’ve had to be. But I also know how big your heart is and how worthy you are of love. You are passing up on the chance to find your one true love.”

You scoffed.

“Love? Everyone can’t be all starry eyed and head over heels like you and Bunny boy.”

She laughed and shook her head at your nickname for Bucky, who you’d grown to like a lot over the weekend. 

“And Steven, disguised at Grant, just wanted to get in my panties, which he achieved.”

You looked toward the waves as you thought about how Grant got you to see fireworks that night in your apartment, and the things Steve said that he wanted to do to you the other night.

“I have no doubt that Steve Rogers wants to fuck you girl. Look at you. You are fine as fuck.”

You laughed at your cousin dressing you down and gassing you up at the same time. 

“But let’s be clear. You wanted to fuck him too. You still do. I see the way you look at him.”

“Hey! I didn’t lie–”

“Ah-ah!”

She silenced you with a finger.

“I know he lied about who he was, but were you completely honest with him? Totally?”

You side eyed your cousin as you imagined strangling her. But you weren’t eleven years old anymore.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Steve lied, but he wants to make amends. He has feelings for you.”

You gave your cousin a side eye.

“Did he tell you that? And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

She put her arm around you and pulled you close as you walked. 

“Listen, I know you are guarding your heart, but I know Steve. He’s got this exterior that seems one way, but he will surprise you. He’s a really, really good guy.”

You sighed, still not there yet.

“I’m good on that, cousin.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him that you have a heart of stone and that he should move on. It’s not like there aren’t bitches lined up to suck his dick every day in the city…”

A jolt of jealousy zipped through you, but you pushed it down. You just took a deep breath and gave her an overly bright smile. 

“I don’t care who slobs on his lil’ knob.”

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Riiggght, cousin. Anyway. You are still taking the endowment money right?”

You raised your eyebrow at her and nodded.

“Nothing is going to get in the way of this dream, cousin.”

She grinned back at you, almost as bright as the sun.

“That’s my girl! We gon’ have a time in New York City…”

—

Sunday morning before you drove back to Atlanta, you went to the kitchen just as Steve came back in from a run on the beach. The rest of the family was going to Church and then he, Bucky and your cousin were going to fly back to New York on the private jet. 

“Hey.”

He chucked his chin up at you like you were one of his bros.

The audacity. 

“Hello.”

You kept it cute as he moved around you to grab a glass to get some water from the tap. The scent of sweat, ocean air, and him wrapped around you and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes to savor it. It was like you were lost. 

You opened your eyes to find him watching you as he downed the glass in one gulp, a drop of water escaping and rolling down his chin to his neck and disappearing into the already wet collar of his tight t-shirt.

You cleared your throat as he maintained eye contact with you and wiped his lips with his thumb, and some unseen force made you watch those thick fingers that felt you up not a month before, your nipples tight and panties wet.

Damn, this man and his effect on you.

You stared as his eyes swept down your body as if he knew what you looked like naked. He had seen you dance, and felt you up over and under your clothes, but that wasn’t what the look of possession was about. 

This man wanted you.

—-

Steve almost ran back outside when he saw you in the kitchen as he came in. He’s taken a run to calm the erection he had when he woke up because of you, and now, here you were, dressed almost exactly the same as when he had the opportunity to kiss you and make you cum in his arms exactly 29 days earlier.

Yes, he was keeping count.

Steve was practically speechless, yet he managed to get out a crude, ‘Hey’ and a head motion as a greeting. What was that?

He wanted close to you, to feel your skin against his lips again, to check and see if you were wet, which you were judging from your slightly open lips and blown pupils. He didn’t go near you as he got a drink however, because no matter how much he was into knife and gun play, he wasn’t going there. 

Steve wanted in your heart, not just your pants.

When you closed your eyes and visibly inhaled (probably to calm your anger, he imagined), he used the opportunity to watch your chest rise and watch the sunlight play on your skin. Those beautiful eyes caused his heart to clench when you opened them and he couldn’t tear his away as he drank his water. 

Which he needed at the moment. Desperately.

Unconsciously, he wiped his lips with his thumb, remembering the texture of you as he did so. You cleared your throat, snapping him out of it.

“Peach…”

He stopped, waiting for your retort. You just stood there, expectant and although he was shocked as shit, he continued.

“I want to apologize for lying to you and for allowing things to get…physical while you believed a lie.”

You watched him for what seemed like a long time, but was really only seconds.

“I accept your apology, Steve, and I believe in forgiveness, if only for myself being able to move on, but I’m not ready to forget or fully trust you.” Steve nodded.

“I get it. I’m really sorry.”

You shrugged.

“I know you were trying to help Bucky get clean for my cousin, and I love her big, so, I can’t stay mad. And it’s clear that you are ride or die for those you love.”

And then you cocked your head at him in that adorable way and his heart crumbled into the sparkly bits of honey in your eyes. 

“I feel like you love my cousin. Like family. So I guess that makes us family too.”

When you gave him a small smile, he smiled back dreamily. He was a teenage boy in your presence.

“I guess you’re right.”

Steve thought of family and a vision of you as a mother had him in a chokehold. You had him raging hard and wanting to bend you over the kitchen island and breed you until his seed dripped down your legs. Instead, he moved behind it to hide his condition. 

“We will have to be in contact because of the endowment, which I am taking because of my students and the fact that it’s been my dream since I was 12 years old. It was then that I started being told that I was all wrong. My ass was too big. My breasts were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’” 

Steve’s eyes openly scanned you. He looked angry, then scoffed. 

“That's ridiculous.” 

“Of course it is.” 

“Don't change a thing. That would be criminal.” 

You paused and then gave him a slightly larger smile then.

“Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I’m planning on changing the world.” 

Steve stared at you, astounded at your fierce courage. No one else could compare.

“I’m serious. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that any body with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. That’s why I’m accepting the endowment. We can be business partners if it means those dreams can come true.”

You were a force. Damn, that only made Steve love you more.

“Brava, Peach.”

You stared back into those baby blues and coughed, trying to clear your throat from the lump that had formed there. Your goals and dreams always made you get intense.

“Need some water?”

Steve was already reaching for another glass. His eyes went wide as you reached for his and finished off what was left in it. He almost came at the thought of your lips where his had been. Holy mother of god.

“That hit the spot, thanks.”

You licked your lips and he nearly fainted, and as you turned toward the stairs, giving him a view of your backside, and looked back at him, he almost ethered to the sky.

“See you next week, Mr. Rogers. Have a safe flight.”

—-

Steve felt frantic the entire seven days leading up to the day he’d see you again. He and Sam and Nat and Bucky had lots of work to do, but he felt like a bumbling idiot, because his perfectionism was getting in the way. 

Bucky saw the barriers Steve’s mind was putting in his way and spent extra time helping him. That’s why Bucky was his brother, Steve’s only family since his mother died when he was a kid.

They worked day and night, it seemed, to be ready for the summit.

Steve managed to take a few minutes to himself each night, sketching before he slept. The images of you that came from the lead of his pencil soothing his spirit and filling his dreams. They also caused him to wake up with a stiff reminder of your feel and smell in his nostrils.

Steve Rogers couldn’t wait to see his Peach again.

—--

You kept checking the emailed itinerary on the phone as you tried to relax in business class. All of the endowment recipients were arriving in New York around the same time period in the afternoon, and you were being picked up and chauffeured to your hotel, then three hours later, to a reception at a club in the Rebirth Building. 

Then, you would be left to your own devices for dinner and to turn in or turn up. Turning up with your cousin was the only option.

You decided to try and catch some zzzz’s on the plane so you wouldn’t be too tired later. You also wanted to calm your nerves. This was a big deal for your dance school, you told yourself. You weren’t nervous about seeing Steve Rogers again on his turf. 

Not at all. 

—---

The driver that picked you up from the airport, complete with your name on a placard, Nico, was super nice.  You were surprised that your cousin was in the car. You two squealed and talked and laughed on the way, and you were in such a good mood that you didn’t pay much attention when she addressed him by his first name very familiarly. He must be a very friendly guy.

Your check-in at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn was a breeze. The concierge let you know that you checked in at the right time; you happened to be upgraded to a one bedroom suite with a view of the New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. The king sized bed looked like a dream, so you took a nap before you got ready for the evening. You wanted to be at your best amongst the other five Endowment awardees.

—-

You walked into the bar, Bea, and you were struck at how gorgeous it was, and how masculine.

There was rich mahogany wood everywhere, and the bartop material was a dark black honed marble. There were luxurious upholstered leather chairs and booths throughout and floor to ceiling wine coolers. 

You were looking around in awe as a young woman came up and handed you a name tag.

“You must be Ms. YLN. Welcome.”

You greeted her as your cousin smirked at you. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing wait staff.

“How…”

You gaped at her.

“All staff have been briefed on all of you. Nothing but the best this week.”

“Oh. Okay…” She giggled as you continued your inspection of the place. Steve and ‘nem had more money than you thought. A lot more. A thought crossed your mind.

“Wait. Do you work for them?”

You narrowed your eyes at your cousin as she rolled hers.

“Well, tangentially. Bucky funded our Howard Benson exhibit at the Center and so I’ve worked with Rebirth on some Harlem Renaissance initiatives around Brooklyn and the other boroughs. I’ve also een helping Bucky and the crew prepare for this week.”

“Ah. Okay.”

You took a sip of your drink and continued your perusal.

It was your cousin’s turn now.

“Listen, bitch.You’ve got to chill. No one is out to get you, especially me.”

Your cousin looked halfway angry. But she was still adorable.

“You’re so fucking cute. Love looks good on you.”

You smiled at her serenely and she shook her head at you, knowing you too well. 

“Don’t give me your shit, Peach. I was there in Hilton Head. You will act like you have some sense.”

“I’m civilized, cousin. Steve and I had a talk before I left. I’m chilling.”

“You better.”

She pointed to the gathering crowd in the room.

“Now go network.”

—--

Your laugh. It gave Steve goosebumps.

He hadn’t heard your full laugh much in Atlanta, just some low, sexy chuckles, because you two hadn’t talked much. And you certainly weren’t happy when he showed up at your family’s house. But you seemed much more relaxed this evening and Steve decided that it was his favorite thing in the world.

He spotted you as soon as you walked in with your cousin and she was beautiful as always. 

But you.

When you finally noticed him, you seemed surprised, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, but not angry at all. He gained hope, and stood up straight, wondering if he looked good to you because you were certainly a vision to his eyes. 

The outfit you were wearing was classy, yet could not hide that body from the eyes that studied it every chance he got. Which was every time he saw you.

As you mingled, and he shmoozed, he consistently had to force his eyes away from your tempting curves, your gorgeous face, the sound of your voice. And that fucking laugh. It wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed, seeped into his soul and spread warmth. 

Not to mention the effect you had on his cock. 

You were a fucking vision in black wide-legged leather pants and a plain white tee that hugged your mouthwatering tits, accessorized with red pointy heels a red clutch and an off white wool trench coat. The edgy outfit was very appropriate for the art world and although you were all covered up, your body wasn’t hidden from him, only accentuated. To top it off, your normally coily hair was straightened and loosely curled, calling for his fingers to slide through the thick strands. 

It’s your eyes that got to him, though, those fucking beautiful eyes that he longed to see hazy with the pleasure he was giving you. He maintained eye contact with you as he thought his lurid thoughts, and raised his drink in a salute. You smiled at him and raised your drink in response and his heart soared.

Although he wanted to be near you immediately, he decided to give you some space. He didn’t want to force anything. Well, maybe he wanted to force his thick cock into your tiny cunt. 

He licked his lips, then shook his head and scowled at Bucky as he noticed Steve staring at you. But he didn’t stop.

Careful now, Steve told himself. Take it slow. 

—--

You mingled and met some of your fellow recipients. They were a diverse group of people from all over the country, but most seemed type cool. There was one who latched on to you, Sharon Carter. She was a photographer from Memphis and was very chatty. She was glued to your side as you made the rounds and you weren’t too mad. She just didn’t shut up.

“How do you like your room? A double with a view of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. And after a three hour coach flight. Fancy.”

You sipped your drink and Sharon’s sarcasm. Your mind started whirling.

“Get a load of those beautiful people right there. Those are our benefactors.”

You looked to where she was indicating and were surprised to see Steve, dressed in and standing with Bucky, another tall handsome man with a low cut fade, and a petite fit redhead woman. They all looked to belong on a movie poster.

But Steve.

He was leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, perfectly tailored dark green sport coat and black wool sweater, hugging his broad shoulders and trim waist like nobody’s business. His dark slacks were hanging on for dear life to those massive thighs, and his thick dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. You liked his hair cut short in the back with the length on top. There was still something to grab on to.

Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that fucking good, especially at this hour, with you already having had two glasses of champagne.…

You caught eye contact with Steve and your world spun for a second as you connected across the room. His eyes… God, his eyes. 

Those steely blues were blazing with a heat that you could feel in your pussy, somehow containing a hunger that threatened to consume you. He stood up straight, and if you didn’ know any better, you would have thought that he flexed a little as he stared at you. Your pussy thought so, but your brain thought he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that. 

He did, however, raise his glass to you and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

You turned your attention to Bucky as he started to speak, and grabbed a bottle of water from a waiter, thinking you needed a clear head when you had to actually talk to Steve and not just acknowledge him from across the room.

"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Rebirth Art Foundation’s annual celebration of creativity and innovation in the arts. This is a gathering to honor six extraordinary artists whose talent, vision, and hard work have earned them a place among the most promising creators of our time….”

You watched your cousin who was totally enraptured by what Bucky was saying. You got a warm feeling as you saw what true love looked like. You smirked as you saw her make her way over to him as Nat stepped up to speak. You were so happy for your fam. 

“Now Bucky Barnes is a snack. Wonder if he’s taken?”

You side eyed the hussy and then pointed at your cousin, who hadn’t made it to Bucky yet.

“I think that’s his wife or something right there.”

Sharon took a sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose.

“Ha! Nice joke. But I don’t think they go together, meaning they don’t match. Get it?”

You stared daggers at her. This bitch. Then you glanced at your cousin and her man again.

“You might want to tell him that, because he looks like he’s about to take her tonsils out with his tongue.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open to see them making out in a corner. You couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged, then brightened when Steve gained the mic. 

“Never mind him. Steve Rogers is the entire meal. I have it on good authority that his dick is big.”

You looked from her to Steve, a sinking feeling in your stomach. Were you going to catch a case in New York City over a man that was not your man?

Or was he your man?

“Good evening, and welcome. It’s an honor to have you all here as we celebrate six incredible artists who are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in the art world and are poised to change the entire world.”

Steve looked straight at you then, and you held his gaze for that fraction of a second as he raised his eyebrow as electricity zapped between you before his eyes continued around the room. 

Sharon was forgotten momentarily and you bit your lip. Whew. You had to refrain from fanning yourself as he continued.

“At Rebirth, we believe that art is more than just a medium—it’s a force that connects us, challenges us, and shapes our future. This week, I encourage you to not only take in everything around you but also to share your unique perspectives. Creation, art, and collaboration are the soul of this foundation, and I’m excited to see what bonds form this week. Congratulations once again, and let’s make something amazing together!”

“Come on, now is the time to meet them. Maybe I can make something amazing with Steve Rogers tonight.”

You let yourself be dragged over to where the four were standing as Sam was finishing his welcome and you introduced yourself to each as you tried to listen to Sharon simping.

Each person smiled warmly at you, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug, which made Sharon side eye you both, but only for a moment as her attention turned to Steve.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m Sharon Carter. You know my Aunt Peggy.”

Steve blanched.

“Peggy? Your… Aunt?”

Sharon laughed, a little shrilly to your ears.

“Yes. She’s my mother’s half sister. Born to the second wife, 18 years younger than my mom. They weren’t that close. But Peggy and I are just like sisters.”

“Oh.”

Steve looked a little trapped.

“Didn’t know that. It’s a small world.”

Peggy leaned closer to him, but you heard her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t share the secrets she told me…”

Steve looked at her like she was crazy and then looked at you, almost in panic. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, so you decided to rescue him.

“Mr. Rogers. Hi. ”

The huskiness of your voice, the way his name sounded on your tongue. It calmed him and sent a lightning bolt of desire through him. Steve wanted to hear you call him that in a very different context.

Steve’s face changed when he looked at you. He shifted toward you, much to Sharon’s chagrin.

“My name is Y/N Y/LN, and it’s so good to finally meet you. I hope that this is the start of a great partnership.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow at you and smiled as you took his hand. You initiating touch with him was the start of his wet dreams of late. His thumb stroked your hand as he held it. 

“I hope so too, Ms. Y/LN. I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”

“Please, call me Peach, Mr. Rogers.”

Nat came around and distracted Sharon as Steve put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the side of the bar to talk. His smell enveloped you and his touch had you walking carefully, because your knees were weak.

“What did you want to talk about Mr. Rogers?”

He shook his head, his eyes dark now.

“Call me Steve, Peach, please.”

His voice was rougher, and impossibly deeper as he begged, and it sent chills straight to your pussy. You cocked your head and he in turn licked his lips.

“Why?”

“Because if you keep calling me Mr. Rogers, I–”

He stopped and your lust-addled brain filled in the gaps. Your lips parted on a soft inhale. Steve, on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

And then exhaled slowly.

“How was your flight?”

Steve thought it best to talk of the mundane, because he was half a second from bending you over the bar in front of all these people. 

“It was… great. I appreciated the business class seat.”

His eyebrow shot up.

“You got upgraded? How fortunate.”

“Ummmmhmmm. So you didn’t know?”

“Promise.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up in a half smile, because he knew you didn’t trust him, but you were so cute when you were grilling him.

“And you didn’t know about the upgrade at the hotel?”

“No…”

“I have a king suite with a killer view of the city.”

Steve grinned now and you almost shielded your eyes.

“Seems you’re lucky.”

You stared into his eyes to see if he was lying, but you didn’t see anything there but feelings you didn’t want to name. But because of your history, you still didn’t trust what he said. Nevertheless, you decided to let it go. There was something else you needed to know.

“So, who’s Peggy?”

Steve grimaced.

“She’s someone I knew a long time ago. We were close. Once. But not anymore.”

You just kept looking at him.

“She’s moved on, married to a rich guy on the west coast. And I’ve moved on as well.”

You straightened up as he gazed down at you. You didn’t know why you cared so much. And you didn’t want to analyze his last sentence.

“Oh.”

Now, Steve was smiling down at you like he thought you were jealous.

Which was absurd. 

And he looked as if he was happy about that ridiculous idea.

You were right.

Steve was jumping for joy on the inside at the way you reacted to hearing about Peggy. He didn’t expect to think about her, much less have to explain her to you tonight, but if it led to you realizing you had feelings for him, he was glad of Sharon’s connection. And the way she ran her mouth, although it was annoying.

“You good, Peach?”

You weren’t good. You found yourself wanting to show Steve your suite, especially the ceiling, as you rode his cock on the king sized bed so as to make him forget about any other pussy ever existing. But you must have been tweaking.

You needed to get out of there.

You turned around and went to find your cousin.

“I’m great Mr. Rogers. You have a good night.”

And Steve was left watching you walk away again.

——

Please comment, reblog and like to feed the writer! 😜

[sunnirayss]

Pretty much, shifting is not something that has been proven or pushed as acceptable by mainstream society so by definition, shifting is "weird". Not a bad or harmful weird, just something that deviates from what is considered normal. But of course, the definition of normalcy itself changes and evolves over time.

It used to be weird for a woman to wear pants or be good at math, in extreme cases it could even result in her being accused of witchcraft and publicly executed. And if you stood up for that woman, people would decide you were under her "spell" and execute you too! But now, no sane person would find that odd and anyone who did would be (rightfully) dragged for it.

And I'm not surprised that people who were interested in shifting as a "trend" are now backtracking and claiming that it's "obviously fake". Because there was a good amount of "normies" who branched out into weirdness during the quarantine, while we were all stuck in our houses and all the regular, socially acceptable activities got cancelled. Normalcy was disrupted by the pandemic, everything was weird because some virus had flipped the world upside down...so everyone could be weird without fear of judgment.

Some got into alt culture and fashion, others joined fandoms for the first time, a lot of people even took the time to experiment with their gender expression and identities, and of course, the possibility of shifting to new realities had never been more intriguing! People had some kind of outlet online to explore new things and sides of themselves, they thrived...then the quarantine ended and normalcy returned.

I noticed that after 2022 or so, people really started scrambling to explain away their "quarantine phase" as they called it. Cringe culture returned and people started to punch down upon the very communities that had welcomed them with open arms not that long ago. Like many trans and nonbinary people said they were cis again, that they had always been cis and only thought otherwise because it was "trendy".

And now with shifting, it's not uncommon to see tiktoks like this with hundreds of people confessing that they lied, confirming that it's definitely fake and just lucid dreaming/daydreaming/psychosis. Meanwhile they're the people who tried the raven method for a week and gave up, or were always judging and feel validated that the mainstream agrees with them.

A lot of these people only view things as trends, they go along with everyone else when they think about who they are and what they can be interested in. Even if they truly are interested in something and it makes them happy, their fear of being "othered" outweighs it and they'll suppress their true selves if it means remaining in everyone else's good graces.

And the kicker is that if societal standards change and something fringe and crazy suddenly becomes mainstream, they see that as permission to resume their interest like something was stopping them before. If and when shifting is somehow proven as 100% real according to whoever they seek approval from, people will be scrambling to shift and dig up their "cringey" shifting scripts that they made back in 2020.

That's why shifting even as a concept is so liberating, because it shows that we are not bound to the rules or circumstances of a single reality. This reality isn't special when infinite other realities (often much better than this one) exist. We can forge our own path because we're the ones who make the damn path, everything else is just noise.

Shifting was never just a trend. If you get that, and I know you do since you're still shifting in 2025, then you will shift I guarantee it.

Yes because we're 5 and can't differentiate between imagining something, dreaming or literally living it.

Everytime I start liking tiktok it proves me wrong.

Don't let this discourage you people, shifting is very much real and everyone can do it!!

(edit: dreaming is a part of shifting! Go check my masterlist to read that post.)

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

some gitm sona doodles (because we wanted to practice drawing them and because we need to cope)

gitm is of course by @venomous-qwille (feel free to ignore this sorry!)

closeups under the cut:

[mtcloudsworld]

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | none, black!fem reader, husband!dickgrayson, it's just funny how mother nature works...Don't mind me lol 😭😂 this just randomly came to mind and I needed to put this somewhere. Edited, but please ignore any errors, ty. Enjoy!!!

"Shit, he's kicking..."

You say standing before the full body mirror, admiring your bare, swollen stomach to watch a foot press flush from the inside out against your belly.

You could see the outline of where his foot was pressing and decided to trace your nail along it. Giggling a little when you feel the baby squirm a little, clearly interacting with them.

Although it did hurt a little you couldn't help but smile enduringly at the weird interaction.

It was late at night when nightwing─ Dick Grayson, your lovely husband had came back from patrol, already out of the shower in only his pajama pants smelling like mint and old spice.

You were already dressed in his old black guns n' roses shirt and boxers with your bonnet on smelling like jasmine and vanilla from your shower earlier.

You were a night owl at heart so Dick wasn't surprised to see you still up.

All night, you were relaxing, enjoying your peace. Did a little bit of cleaning and organizing here and there, tidying up a bit before settling yourself down for bed. And when Dick finally arrives back home, the little bundle of joy decides to disrupt your peace.

"Is he finally awake?" You heard footsteps come from behind.

Then warmth presses up against your back, feeling the tough exterior of his chest pressed against your back and suddenly surrounded by his strong bulging arms, tender hands smoothing along the roundness of your stomach to feel your body lean into his protective embrace. "Yeah, he was quiet all day until...' you then glanced at him through the body mirror, watching as he planted kisses near the side of your face, ear, neck and jawline. "Not that he ever moves to the sound of my voice but...he's more excited when you're around."

"Hm," he smirks proudly, a daddy's boy perhaps?

"He recognizes my voice. He missed papa." Dick mumbled coddling you with his face buried between your neck, swaying your bodies sweetly.

It was quiet for a moment. Enjoying his tender, sweet love and affection towards you.

You're mind began to wander out of the blew.

"...Baby?"

"Hm?"

"What if 'he' is actually a 'she' ?"

The question makes his head pop up.

"Then... she recognizes my voice." He corrects.

And that brought a smile to your face, turning your head a little to make eye contact with him, challenging him.

"But... what if 'she' is actually a 'he' ?"

And he deadpans, "babe, really?"

"What? I'm just asking!─ "

"No, no, no, you are not "just asking" and we're not doing this again, tonight." He states, shaking his head in disapproval yet still wore a smile on his face. "We're not doing this at..." He turns to look at the digital clock in the nightstand before glancing at you "...1:30 in the morning where I answer all of your questions till your mind feels satisfied and then be up all night because you suddenly can't go to sleep. No, it's not happening."

"Okay but wait, listen," you pout, turning to face him completely. "I get that we wanted the baby to be a surprise but... I just can't help but wonder what if he is actually a she, or if she is actually he????"

"That's why we bought neutral colored clothes and other necessities for a reason, so we wouldn't have to worry about that" He nods, pointing towards the preoccupied corner filled with amazon boxes and gift bags of baby stuff that has yet to be set up and put away, call it laziness.

"Yeah but I feel bad that I keep calling the baby he when it could possibly be a she."

"Babe, you're overthinking this way too much right now." He stresses with a heavy sigh.

When he noticed the look of worry/pout on your face, he reaches up to cup your face. Stroking at your cheeks back and forth to slowly feel its smooth texture graze along his soft yet slightly calloused palms. "Look, whether they are a boy or a girl, all they need to know is that their parents love them very much and will do any and everything to keep them safe and sound. No matter what, they're always gonna be cared for."

You sigh, shoulders relaxing. You hate that he's always right. Always know the right words to say. It honestly makes you stand back and feel like a fool at times but you know that dick didn't see it in that way, you were just...an over-thinker at heart.

"Yeah, you're right...." You finalized, looking down to your belly, feeling the baby move once more and rub your hands over the swell of your stomach. "I want them out of me already. I wanna see if they'll have your face." You gleamed, glancing back up at him.

Dick chuckles, "You say that now..." and turns to walk back to the bathroom.

"I'm serious, Dick."

"Mhm, yeah, sure, if you say so."

"You want them out just as badly as I do, so don't even." You stated pointedly, your finger directed towards him with a playful yet warning look.

"I do, but I'm patient about it..." He then frowns a little when you give him a look, one that asked "are you sure about that?" , "...oooorrrrr at least I think I am." He sighs, "I'm just enjoying these last few moments baby free until time says otherwise." He clears up, turning back to the sink to start washing the dirt and grime off his face.

Patience was key right now.

As much as both of you wanted to see your first child come into this world, both of you were still enjoying your time baby free. You, obviously, were in a rush to get them out of you. Dick also was ready to get them out of you, but he was enjoying his freedom.

Once he finished washing his face he started brushing his teeth, hearing the TV play lightly in the background whilst you prepared yourself for bed.

He was in his own head, thinking of who his baby could possibly look more like. Deep down inside he wanted a babygirl. Wanted her to look just like you, mocha skin, dark curls and blue eyes and that beautiful smile of yours. He had an assumption that she was gonna be bold, confident, funny, smart, stubborn and driven with determination. She was, of course, gonna be a mixture of both of you.

Just as Dick spits the paste out in the sink, he hears a sudden splash against the wooden floor. He smiles while wiping his mouth with the face towel and jokingly asks, "Did you slip water again? I swear to god, woman.." he huffs, turning the light off, "if I had a dollar for every time you slip water, I'd be richer than Bruce." Dramatic ass.

Dick was gonna say way more but when he comes around the corner and halts in place, frowning and staring at what's before him...he feels his heart drop.

"D-Dick...?"

You could barely utter a word, barely say his name above a terrified whisper. You were so stuck in shock that you barely recognized the pain shooting through your body at first, legs shaking and soaking wet...as if someone had splashed water all over them.

And like on cue, you both make eye contact.

"My water just broke." You say nervously with shaky breaths, holding onto the dresser for leverage as you feel yourself start to buckle.

And Dick, out of shock, fear and terror, utters, "I WAS JUST KIDDING!!!"

"I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN LITERALLY!!!"

After all the numerous phone calls, rushing you to the hospital and being by your side for the entirety of the process, it was safe to say the pregnancy was a success.

Mr and Mrs. Grayson welcomed a healthy babygirl.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[megalony]

Somewhere Safe

This is a new Eddie Munson imagine that I had a little idea for. I hope you will all like it.

Any feedback always makes my day.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper

Main Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) doesn't have the best home life and knowing this, Eddie tells her to come and live with him. But he isn't too happy when the group are at a party, and someone tries to play a cruel prank on his girlfriend.

Enjoy.

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

Tears as torturous as acid poured down (Y/n)'s face as her feet thudded against the stairs. Each step she took felt like a mile and the house somehow felt like it was growing, contorting into a maze to keep her here. To trap her.

Her feet seemed to crash against the stairs no matter how light she tried to make her steps and in the end, (Y/n) gave up. She allowed the soles of her converse to crash against the carpet and cause the floorboards to creak and groan at her presence.

Her hands grappled with the bannister which she used to propel herself round to the left and she stumbled into another sprint.

The sound of that shrill voice echoed behind her, thundering across the upstairs landing, trying to catch her before she left. Before she made her escape. Well (Y/n) wouldn't be caught. Not tonight.

Her heart thudded and her lungs ached as she reached the front door and scurried outside. She didn't bother to shut or lock the door behind her, it would only slow her down. She moved her hand to secure the rucksack hanging off her shoulder to make sure she didn't drop it in her hurry to leave.

The wind caused her acidic tears to streak across her face and whip along her skin and it hurt. (Y/n)'s eyes were stinging from how much she had cried and her body was shaking from a mixture of panic and adrenaline.

She tripped down the path that sloped down towards the road. It was always a struggle getting up to the house that was built on a slight incline, but it was always so easy to flee.

(Y/n) felt like her heart was going to give out when she saw that familiar dark blue car parked in front of the next house.

Steve.

He was right on time. He always parked in front of the neighbours house; he knew from experience that (Y/n) didn't like her mother to know who she was going out with or see where she was going. But it didn't matter anymore, not after today.

Her body shuddered and trembled and her lungs seemed to stutter in her chest as she pelted across the grass and aimed for that car that would save her.

"She has remembered we're going out, right?" Robin tossed her head back against the headrest and arched one brow as she looked over at Steve. She didn't like to wait around and they had been parked up for almost ten minutes. Usually as soon as Steve pulled up, (Y/n) would bolt out and be in the car within a minute.

"I spoke to her this morning."

"Well clearly-" Robin broke off into a shriek when a resounding thud bashed against the back window.

Both of them turned around to see one of (Y/n)'s hands plastered against the car window and their expressions mirrored shock as they watched her wrench the door open and almost collapse onto the backseat.

As soon as (Y/n) was inside, she yanked the door shut and dropped her bag down into the footwell. Deep breaths rasped past her lips as she started to shake all over again. She was safe. She was with her friends. Nothing could happen to her now if Steve drove off right away.

A frown formed on Steve's lips as he tried to turn and look behind him towards one of his oldest friends.

He and (Y/n) had been friends since she was ten. Steve was like the older brother she never had and they rowed and bickered like siblings but they would do anything for each other.

When Robin joined their little gang, it almost seemed like the three of them were siblings.

"Hey- woah, you okay?"

"Drive." (Y/n) didn't have the time, energy or effort to even begin to explain. She just needed Steve to drive, to get out of here and take her away somewhere safe.

Although tonight's plans might have to change now. (Y/n) shuddered at the thought and she coiled her arms towards her chest as her eyes fell closed. They had planned on going to the movies tonight, but (Y/n) couldn't do that anymore. She couldn't try and pretend that she was fine and that everything was okay when it wasn't. She couldn't go and sit in a crowded screen and eat popcorn and make jokes and slide down in the chair like the three of them always did when they got rowdy and into a giggling fit.

(Y/n) couldn't concentrate on a movie after what had been said and done tonight. Her mind wasn't in the right place for that.

She was already drifting off into her own world, her eyes tightly closed while she brought her knees up to her chest instead of bothering to pull on her seatbelt.

"Is that blood?" Panic entwined in Robin's voice when she turned around in her seat and looked behind her to where her friend was sitting.

She saw the way (Y/n) flinched when she looked down at her exposed arms which she quickly pressed into her shirt so they couldn't be seen. And she ducked her head down and shimmied until her hood was covering her face so the specks of blood over her brow couldn't be seen either.

She curled up with her knees pressing over her arms that were now pinned against her torso and with her forehead pressing into the top of her knees, (Y/n) effectively hid herself away from two of her best friends. She never liked or wanted to hide from them, but tonight was different.

"What?" Panic bubbled up in Steve's voice causing his tone to heighten as he tried to glance over his shoulder towards his friend. He hadn't seen any blood, but then again, he didn't see her properly when she all but threw herself into the car. "What happened?"

It was clear something had gone on tonight. (Y/n) had thrust herself into the car in a panicked state and she was late, she was hardly ever late to meet them for anything. And she wasn't joking or throwing her arms around them in a hug. She wasn't speaking to them at all. And when Steve looked through the mirror and saw how she was curled up in the backseat, his lips fell into a wince and his fingers began to drum against the steering wheel out of panic.

Something had happened at home.

Steve knew (Y/n) didn't have a good relationship with her mum, but he never pried. In all the years that they had been friends, Steve had been round to (Y/n)'s house all of twice. Whenever they met up or went out or hung together, it was always at Steve's house or at the movies or at school.

He knew (Y/n) argued a lot with her mum and her home life was clearly chaotic at the best of times. Steve had seen the signs, but whenever he tried to approach the subject, (Y/n) veered away and he had learned not to ask. He asked if she was alright, if she needed to talk or go out and vent and brush off steam, but he didn't inquire any further.

"(Y/n) talk to me-"

"Eddie. Please, t-take me to Eddie's." (Y/n) hated how pathetic her voice sounded and she wiped her eyes with the collar of her shirt before she pressed her face back down into her knees.

She didn't want to be a burden or ruin their night, but going to the cinema wasn't going to happen for (Y/n) and she didn't want to mess up what was left of Steve and Robin's night. They could still go to the movies like chaotic siblings and have fun. (Y/n) just needed a ride to Eddie's trailer, and Steve was her best friend. He always gave her a ride wherever she needed if her boyfriend couldn't.

(Y/n) wanted to be with Eddie. He would know what to do. His presence was always so calming to (Y/n) and she needed to be with him and decompress and calm down. Besides, (Y/n) had nowhere else to go but Eddie's place.

Steve glanced to the right and locked eyes with Robin for a few seconds, but neither of them had any clues as to what was happening or ideas about what to do. So, with a shrug of his shoulders, he veered to the left and changed course. The trailer park was only five minutes away and if that was where (Y/n) wanted to go, then that's what they would do.

Every now and then, the pair of them snuck glances into the back of the car, but (Y/n) hadn't moved. She stayed curled up like a child who had been scolded. She didn't speak other than the odd whimper or sniff and neither Robin nor Steve said a word either, they didn't know what to do and the atmosphere in the car felt so fragile that one word might shatter everything.

The road into the trailer park was rocky with various pot holes and chunks of gravel. When the car rolled to a stop beside Eddie's beat up van, Steve took a deep breath and glanced behind him towards (Y/n). She didn't seem to have noticed that they were here.

He stretched his hand out towards her and brushed the back of his hand along her knee, he didn't want to grab her and frighten her.

As soon as she saw where they were, (Y/n) scrambled to grab her bag and get out the car. She knew Steve would get out with her, he was a cautious friend and a gentleman when he wanted to be. He would see her inside and make sure she was alright before he left.

"Stay here," He murmured across to Robin before he climbed out the car. He already knew (Y/n) wouldn't ask him and Robin to stay, she would want them to carry on to the cinema and have a fun night. But Steve needed to check she was actually alright and see if Eddie could get through to her before he dared leave her here.

Steve rounded the front of the car and hopped up the steps so he could knock on the trailer door. He assumed that Wayne would be at work, he always did the night shifts and he prayed that Eddie's van being here meant he was home and not out with the band or at a party or doing some deal somewhere.

The moment the trailer door opened and (Y/n) caught a flash of that familiar crimped brown hair, she surged forward. She didn't care that she unbalanced Steve and almost knocked him off the steps. Nor did she care about being polite and saying hello first. All she cared about was getting to Eddie.

Her body barrelled into his arms, causing Eddie to stumble onto his back foot before he regained his balance and held them both upright. His lips quirked into a confused grin, flashing his pearly whites as he felt (Y/n)'s arms bind tightly around his middle and her face meshed up against his sternum.

Confusion sparkled within Eddie's brown eyes as he wrapped his right arm around (Y/n)'s waist and moved his left hand to cradle the back of her head. And he tilted his head down to briefly kiss the top of her head before he noticed Steve was stood on the steps, his car parked a few feet away.

"Hey, I thought you were all going to the movies tonight?"

Eddie only went along to the movies with them if the whole group was going and if it was a film that was either a new sci-fi or a horror. But when it was just Steve and Robin, Eddie hung back and let the three of them head out together. He knew they would never think of him as being in the way, but he knew they enjoyed heading out together and if he went along, Eddie would simply attach himself to (Y/n) and end up missing half the movie by making out with her.

When (Y/n) didn't answer or say anything at all, Eddie looked over towards Steve, and his smile slowly began to fade.

Steve looked worried. He was stood on the top step with one hand on his hip and the other tangled up in the long hair at the back of his neck. His lips were curled up into a grimace and every time he looked towards (Y/n), there was that sense of panic in his eyes that rattled Eddie's core.

And Eddie finally noticed that Robin was in the car with her nose practically smushed against the window, desperately trying to see and hear what was happening. She looked worried too. Something had happened.

"Something happened, she won't tell me what, but she asked to come here."

Tremoring breaths left Eddie's parted lips and he managed to nod his head before he looked down at (Y/n). She was still bound to his chest like some kind of monkey, unwilling to look up at him or take one step away as if she thought she might die if she let him go.

Diverting his attention back down to the girl in his arms, Eddie tried to take a step back inside the trailer, but (Y/n) moved with him like they were one being.

He sucked in a deep breath which he held in while his hands moved round so he was cupping her face in his palms. He leaned his chest back and carefully peeled (Y/n) off of him so he could look down at her. His brows creased and his thumbs glided along her cheekbones.

The cold metal of his rings felt soothing against (Y/n)'s burning skin and she closed her eyes, relishing in the touch rather than focusing on Eddie's concerned expression and his knitted brows that were pulled together in confusion.

He could see now that she was subtly trembling, something he hadn't felt when she clung to him seconds ago. But what made Eddie's lips curl into a snarl was the cut along the left side of her brow near her eye. It didn't look deep enough to need medical attention, but it was enough to leave a streak of blood trickling down her face and it was certainly going to swell and bruise by morning.

And when Eddie spared a glance back towards Steve, he realised that Steve was silently tapping his arms. That caused Eddie to look down to (Y/n)'s hands that were now clinging to his wrists like she was afraid he was going to let her go. His eyes scanned down her hands, wrists and to her exposed forearms.

More cuts along her arms that were smeared in small streaks of blood.

"Oh baby."

(Y/n) couldn't help the tears that started to trickle down her face again and she leaned forward until her nose was meshed up against his sternum and her heavy breaths were fanning into his black cotton shirt. Her hands let go of his wrists in favour of binding her arms back around his waist again and she cried quietly when Eddie's fingers knotted into her hair. He cupped the back of her head with both hands and pressed feverish kisses to the top of her head in an attempt to calm her down.

"Thanks for dropping her off Harrington, we'll be fine."

When Steve nodded, Eddie reached one hand out to pat his shoulder as a sign of thanks. He was glad Steve had brought her here, Eddie didn't want to think about (Y/n) walking down here in this state late at night. It didn't bear thinking about.

Steve gently rested his hand on (Y/n)'s lower back and mumbled "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" before he headed back down the steps towards the car. Suddenly going to the cinema wasn't as exciting anymore now that they knew something wasn't right with (Y/n).

Once the car pulled away, Eddie nudged the door shut and carefully walked backwards, easing (Y/n) with him as they walked in tandem like their legs were tied together.

He glanced his eyes around the trailer before deciding to aim for the sofa and once he sat back down on the sofa, he pulled (Y/n) along with him. She didn't argue or make a disapproving sound, she didn't say anything at all.

Her arms shifted from Eddie's waist to lock around his neck instead and she sat down on his lap, wriggling until she was as close as possible. Her face tucked into Eddie's neck with his hair tickling the back of her head as it curled around her like a curtain trying to protect her and shield her from any prying eyes, not that there was anyone else with them in the trailer.

She lifted her legs and swung them up onto the sofa beside Eddie while one of his hands gripped her thigh and the other curved around her lower back and settled on the dip in her waist.

They stayed like that for a few minutes while Eddie kissed her temple and breathed softly against her skin. He waited until he felt the tears finally stop and her breaths began to even out before he tried to start a conversation.

"Wanna tell me what happened, babe?"

She didn't want to. (Y/n) really didn't want to explain what had happened back at home tonight, but she knew she needed to. She couldn't just sit here and panic Eddie- panic him more than she already had. She needed to at least explain why she had turned up and changed the plans when she was supposed to be at the cinema with Steve and Robin.

She nuzzled her nose into Eddie's collar bone while she felt him humming something against the top of her head, probably the tune he had stuck in his head.

"Mum was in one of her moods, I said- I said I was going to the cinema, but she d-didn't believe me. She called me a whore." (Y/n) almost laughed as she spoke and the cynical smile on her lips was one second away from breaking into a hollow crease.

Eddie was the only one who knew what (Y/n)'s home life was like. (Y/n) had never told anyone what she went through at home, not until she and Eddie got together and he suddenly told her about his own parents. About his shitty dad who didn't stick around and his mum who couldn't be bothered with him after a while. And that was before he got into drugs and smoking and started failing at school; she was probably the reason he went downhill in the first place.

With Eddie being so open to her and when he first told her he loved her, something changed within (Y/n). She felt safe. She felt loved and understood and like it was okay to tell one person what her home life was like.

(Y/n)'s dad wasn't in the picture anymore, after he left, it was just (Y/n) and her mum, and it had been Hell.

Little things (Y/n) did, things that weren't naughty or wrong or bad, it could have been something as simple as drawing a picture or playing the wrong movie, but they set her mum off. They sent her into a rant, into a fit of rage.

Her mother was bent on drilling rules and discipline into (Y/n) and her way of doing that was shouting and lashing out.

She felt Eddie tense against her and the way he sighed through his teeth against her temple made (Y/n) shudder. He had never met her mum but he hated her with a deep vengeance already.

"What did she do?" There was something deep and guttural about Eddie's voice and it made (Y/n) shiver. Especially when Eddie moved his hand from her thigh to cup her cheek and trace his thumb along the cut to her brow.

"I kept telling her it was a cinema trip, but she wouldn't listen. She smacked me, b- but she had a knife…"

(Y/n) shakily let go of Eddie's neck and moved her arms towards her face to show that she had tried to defend herself. And when she hovered her arms near her face, it allowed Eddie a better look at the few cuts to her arms. Superficial wounds, but still bleeding cuts nonetheless and any wound was wrong no matter how shallow or small it was.

Her mum had hit her, nothing new, it was something that happened on occasion and each time it did, (Y/n) fled the house so it wouldn't get worse. She always came home to find her mum crying and apologising or pretending like it hadn't happened.

Tonight was almost the same as normal, but her mum lashed out with a kitchen knife in her hand. It slashed (Y/n)'s face and when she tried to strike her again, (Y/n) ended up with cuts on her arms.

She ran to her bedroom, grabbed her bag- which she added a few clothes to so she didn't have to go home tonight- and fled the house with her mother shouting and screaming behind her.

"You're not going back there."

"I brought an overnight bag." (Y/n) tiredly pointed to her rucksack on the floor beside the front door before she snuggled further into Eddie. He never minded when she wanted to stay over, he encouraged her to stay with him especially if her mum was in one of her moods. And Wayne never minded if he came home to find (Y/n) cooking in the kitchen or watching tv with Eddie in the mornings before school.

"No, I mean you're not going back there again. You can stay here with me." The determination in Eddie's voice was surprising and it made (Y/n)'s heart flutter.

She tilted her head back against his shoulder so she could look up at him and her trembling fingertips delicately traced his jaw and his lower lip which caused him to shudder and close his eyes automatically.

"Eddie…"

"Baby, you're not safe there. If you're here with me then you're safe, uncle Wayne won't mind. Some of your stuff is in my room anyway, so stay. Stay with me."

Eddie curled his hand carefully and slowly around her wrist as not to frighten her and he tilted his head to press his lips against the palm of her hand. He leaned into her touch before he pushed forward and pressed his lips to hers in a burning, searing kiss that stole all the air from (Y/n)'s lungs.

Going back home was just putting (Y/n) at risk. What would stop her mum from doing this again and harming her or stabbing her next time?

If (Y/n) stayed here with Eddie and his uncle, she would be safe. She stayed over at least once a week as it was when things got too much. They could share Eddie's room, he would drive her to school every morning with him and bring her home. She could go out with Robin and Steve and the gang without having to hide or lie or panic about getting home and wondering what mood her mum would be in.

Eddie barely let their lips part, even as (Y/n) pulled back for air, their lips were still brushing and his hand was now cradling the side of her neck.

He uttered "Stay with me," against her lips and he sucked her lower lip between his teeth as his hooded eyes bore into hers, desperate for her to say yes. He wanted her here with him where she was loved and safe.

Eddie knew (Y/n) couldn't tell her mum about any of her male friends. Her mum had it in her mind that (Y/n) couldn't hang out with boys or else she would be corrupted and her grades would slip and she would get into trouble. She didn't seem to realise that (Y/n) could simply be friends with Steve and be in a relationship with Eddie and still get the grades and attend school and still be herself.

She never told her mum about Steve and she certainly didn't mention Eddie because his reputation preceded him and her mum would go off the rails because she didn't know about Eddie's sweet side the way (Y/n) did.

So if (Y/n) stayed here, her mum wouldn't know. She wouldn't know where Eddie lived, she didn't even know that (Y/n) knew Eddie or that she was dating him. She would be protected here.

(Y/n) didn't feel able to say no. She couldn't help the smile that curled at her lips and she leaned into his chest, pushing him back against the sofa as she kissed him with fever.

"Okay."

No sooner had the word passed her lips and into Eddie's mouth than his hand left her hip and curved round to cup her bum. She could feel his lips curving into a wide grin against her mouth that he was bruising with his feverish kisses and he made sure (Y/n)'s legs were hooked around his waist before he got up from the sofa with her sat on his hips.

"That's my girl. Now let's clean those cuts up, hm?" She was here with him now, and this was where she was staying. And Eddie would always look after her.

***

(Y/n) didn't like parties. There was only one type of party where she felt truly comfortable and at ease and that was the parties which Steve hosted. The ones where Nancy, Robin, Eddie and the rest of the group attended. Just them, nobody else, no other kids from school to mock them or stare or get too rowdy and cop off in the bedrooms.

(Y/n) wasn't sure they really classed as parties so much as they were sleepovers, but those were the only kind that (Y/n) felt okay in.

She didn't truly want to be here, but Nancy and Steve insisted. It was one of Nancy's friends throwing the party and apparently everyone was invited. That meant Nancy wanted all her friends to go with her so they could have some fun.

But their definitions of fun were very different.

With both her arms bound around her waist, (Y/n) tilted her head down and tried to worm her way through the bodies in the kitchen so she could get a drink.

They hadn't been here long and already (Y/n) was eager to leave, but she couldn't. She couldn't sneak off without Nancy and the rest of the group knowing and they all promised they would stick together tonight. They were here to have fun and dance and mess around, but they would still hang with each other. (Y/n) didn't want to be a kill joy, she didn't want to be the first one to leave.

She found some plastic cups and got two drinks of whatever punch was in the large fish bowl on the counter. Everyone was drinking from it so it couldn't be spiked with anything bad, she hoped.

Once she turned around with both drinks in hand, she tried to weave back through the sea of people. At least where the rest of the group were sitting in the back room, it wasn't so crowded and they weren't going deaf with the music or squashed near people dancing. They were out the way and could have a somewhat fun night.

(Y/n) could feel a bubble of annoyance swelling in her chest when she passed Chrissy. The cheerleader who thought she was the best of the best and better than everybody else. Chrissy used to try and tease (Y/n) in class quite a lot, and she wasn't pleased when she realised she would have to stop tormenting (Y/n) because if she didn't, (Y/n) would tell the rest of the school that Chrissy had tried buying drugs from Eddie. That would ruin Chrissy's reputation.

"Nice outfit." Chrissy's voice was shrill and the smirk on her face was unsettling as her eyes dragged up and down (Y/n)'s outfit.

She wasn't wearing anything special. This wasn't a dressing up party or Halloween. She was wearing a pair of jeans and Eddie's Hellfire shirt, mainly because it had long sleeves and covered the little scratches and cuts that were finally healed on her arms. Besides, Eddie liked it when she wore his clothes, he was always telling her that.

With an arched brow, (Y/n) looked up and down Chrissy's outfit with a small huff. Chrissy looked like she was going to bed, she had on a skimpy shirt that barely went down to her hips and a pair of shorts so small and tight that they looked uncomfortable. They looked like knickers rather than shorts.

"Nice underwear." Was the response she gave before she walked off to find Eddie again.

Once she was back near the group, (Y/n) locked her eyes on Eddie's frame. He was sat on the sofa, thighs spread apart, elbows resting on his thighs and his chest hunched forward to look at the coffee table where they were playing some kind of game.

A smile pulled at Eddie's lips when (Y/n) walked towards him and held out a red plastic cup in his direction. He took it without question, his smile broadening when he watched her kneel down on the floor and move around until she was sat between his legs with her back up against the sofa. He looped an arm over her shoulder and attached his lips to the back of her head.

"Thanks," He murmured into her hair before he leaned round a bit more to press a kiss to her temple.

(Y/n) grinned and shivered at the feeling of Eddie's hair tickling her shoulder and the crook of her neck as he leaned into her. His cheek smushed up against hers and his chest pressed into her back and shoulders as she felt him smiling and chuckling against her skin.

If Eddie hadn't of tagged along tonight (Y/n) wouldn't have stayed this long, but he didn't have band practice tonight so he had agreed to come along for a night out. It beat hanging around the trailer on his own if (Y/n) wasn't home.

Most of the kids at school knew (Y/n) was staying with Eddie now. Someone had started commenting that he drove her to and from school and it soon caught round that she had been staying at the trailer.

At least (Y/n) knew this news wasn't going to get back to her mum and if it did, she would have a hard time trying to find exactly who Eddie was and where he lived.

Steve, Eddie and Robin had all helped (Y/n) sneak back home last week when her mum was at work so she could grab her stuff. She only took the essentials, her school work, her few favourite books and her clothes and one or two mementos. That was all she needed for now and she had been happier than ever now that she was staying with Eddie- and Wayne, who kept reassuring her he didn't mind her staying with them.

They stayed like that for a while, (Y/n) perched happily on the floor between Eddie's legs that occasionally squeezed into her sides like he was caging her in or making sure she was still there and secure in his embrace.

(Y/n) leaned her cheek on Eddie's knee and curled up against his leg. The alcohol made her relax, but being around the group made her feel a lot better.

She didn't join in whatever game they were playing, neither did Nancy, but Steve and Robin were battling against Eddie in what (Y/n) was sure was some strange game of cards with new rules. Although Eddie seemed to be winning so (Y/n) wasn't going to start questioning the rules.

When she felt Eddie's hand slithering across her shoulder and down her side, (Y/n) tilted her head back on his knees so she could look up at him. Her lips curved into a tender grin and she closed her eyes when he leaned down to kiss her.

His lips tasted like liquorish and sweetened cocktails and his tongue tasted even sweeter when it dove past her lips to battle with hers.

She could feel his hand creeping back up her side until his hand was curled beneath her chin like he was making sure she wasn't about to tilt her head down or pull away from him. But he did let her come up for air when her head started to spin.

His hand stayed caressing her chin for a while and the love-drunk look in his eyes made (Y/n) want to melt on the spot. Eddie could look at her however he wanted and (Y/n) would feel like she was the only person in the world worth looking at; at least in Eddie's world.

"Hey lovebirds, we need more drinks."

"So go get some." Eddie quipped back before he leaned forward and stole another kiss from (Y/n)'s lips. His thumb traced along (Y/n)'s chin and his teeth sank a bit too deeply into her lower lip causing a droplet of blood to splash on his tongue when Steve gave him a shove in the shoulder.

"I'm not an octopus Munson, give me a hand." Steve didn't duck in time before Eddie's free hand clipped him round the back of the head. He was expecting something like that, but he was surprised when Eddie sighed and pushed up from the sofa. He was actually going to help.

Eddie's hands moved to (Y/n)'s shoulders so he could carefully step around her, not wanting to kick or nudge her by accident. He gave her shoulders a lasting squeeze before he followed Steve towards the kitchen, grumbling in the process about having to move.

"Well this music sucks." Robin wasn't lying and as soon as she clocked the idiot who was supposed to be a DJ, she pushed up from the floor and headed in his direction. She wasn't listening to this for the rest of the night, she wanted some proper music and she didn't care who she had to annoy to get her way.

(Y/n) began to tap her fingers on her thighs, feeling a calm buzz mingling in with her blood from the alcohol. She wouldn't have much more, she wanted to at least be able to walk straight when they all decided to call it a night and left. Wobbling out wouldn't be the greatest way to leave and all of them were walking home so they couldn't be blackout drunk tonight.

She pulled out of her thoughts and glanced to the left when Nancy leaned across the sofa to nudge her arm.

Nancy's crimped hair was waving in all directions like she had come into contact with too much static and her smile was rather dopey and loose showing she was on her way to being drunk.

She was practically lying on the sofa with her cheek smushed up into the cushion and her hand lolled on (Y/n)'s shoulder to gain her attention.

"Help me find the bathroom?"

(Y/n) suspected she might have to carry her friend to the bathroom rather than help her scout it out, but she nodded. Finding the bathroom in a strange house wasn't an easy task and it wasn't nice to do alone.

She pushed up to her feet and held her hands out, helping Nancy straighten up and stop wobbling.

Nancy slung her arm around the back of (Y/n)'s shoulders, grinning drunkenly as the pair of them headed away from the room and towards the hall. Neither of them were sure whether there would be a downstairs toilet or not but they decided to try their luck down the hall to find out.

They were in luck. At the end of the hall to the left, a couple stumbled out of the bathroom with toussled hair and skewed jeans. There was a bathroom.

"I'll wait here." (Y/n) unhooked Nancy's arm from around the back of her neck and helped her wobble into the bathroom before she closed the door.

(Y/n) turned so her back was pressed against the wall and she closed her eyes for a few moments, trying to gather her thoughts and make sure she wasn't as drunk as Nancy clearly was.

She found it strange that some of the people from school were so easy-going and so willing to have sex in a stranger's house, in any room that they could find. Anyone could walk in. People could see or laugh or try and interrupt. What if the owners or person's parents came home? It was all too risky and too unsettling for (Y/n). She wouldn't want to have sex in a strangers house in someone else's bedroom, she probably wouldn't go in the bathroom either.

Eddie wasn't like that either, he wouldn't beat around the bush or try and find a random room. If Eddie wanted her, he would make it plainly obvious and he would make their excuses to leave and head back home where they would be alone.

A smile began to pull on her lips and her eyes remained closed as she listened to the sudden change of music. A heavy drum intro, soon followed by at least three different guitar beats. Oh yes, Robin had gotten hold of the DJ, or maybe even Eddie had gone over and made a request as the song sounded vaguely familiar and definitely something that Eddie would listen to.

But her eyes snapped open when an unfamiliar pair of hands suddenly latched around her arm and she was pulled off of the wall she was leaning against.

Her sense of balance wobbled and distorted for a few seconds and (Y/n) darted her eyes around to try and find out what was going on, but her brows furrowed and her heart hammered against her chest when she realised who was stood beside her.

What was Chrissy doing?

Unease bridled through (Y/n)'s chest and dwelled in her stomach as Chrissy steered her down the hall, away from the bathroom where Nancy was. And when (Y/n) felt another hand gripping her other arm, she looked to find one of Chrissy's cheerleading minions beside her.

"Get off-"

"Oh, but we have something to show you."

The sickly tone to her voice made (Y/n)'s stomach churn, but she couldn't pull away. Her shoes skidded against the floor, her knees bent awkwardly and she tried to push back and pull away from them but it didn't work. Their fingers felt like viper's teeth sinking into her arms and they suddenly stopped, no longer dragging (Y/n) down the hall.

Maybe they realised other people at the party would ask them what they were doing and make them stop if they realised both girls were dragging (Y/n) somewhere unwillingly.

(Y/n) twisted her head from left to right, trying in vain to see if Nancy was drunkenly wandering out of the bathroom or to see if she could catch one of the group somewhere in the distance. But she couldn't see anyone. And before she knew what was happening, she was suddenly pushed forward.

For a dreaded moment, she had a horrible feeling that she had just been pushed into a bedroom and someone was waiting in there to make fun of her or play some kind of prank on her.

It was much worse.

She had been shoved into a closet.

Panic settled in her lungs like stones, clogging up until she could barely take in one ounce of air. Her body began to shake as her hands scoured around her, but she couldn't find anything except for a mountain of coats and dozens of pairs of shoes squandered around her feet.

The room couldn't have been bigger than a bathtub, there was barely room for (Y/n) to turn round in a circle and each hook on the wall held a coat or a shawl or a hat. Making (Y/n) feel like she was in a room with a dozen strangers, all cramped together.

She spun on her heels, barely able to see the door with how dark the closet was. The only source of light was the thin orange hue leaking through beneath the door, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to calm (Y/n) down.

Her hands grasped the tiny door handle and she shoved, but it wouldn't open. Someone was holding the handle so it wouldn't twist in any direction, and there was a heavy weight against the door preventing (Y/n) from barging it open even a tiny bit.

"Having fun in there, freak?"

"Open the door!" Her fists bashed down on the door as tears began to well up in her eyes.

She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. She couldn't get out.

A rendition of "Let me out!" bellowed past (Y/n)'s lips as she began to wheeze from how little air she was actually intaking. Each shallow breath she took made her lungs ache and she felt like she was going to throw up. They had to let her out. They couldn't leave her in here like this. Someone else would surely notice if she began screaming and hitting the door.

Could (Y/n) scream louder than the music blasting from the tv and the speakers? Could she make enough ruckus, or would no one pay any attention? Would the group even come looking for her? How long until they noticed she wasn't with them?

"Out! Out! Let- let me out!" Words spluttered past her lips, but she couldn't speak from how tight and hoarse her throat was becoming.

Each breath became a strangled sound and her hands trembled as they bashed into the wooden door so harshly that grazes began to appear on her skin.

They knew. They knew she hated small spaces. Chrissy had been in science class with (Y/n) last year when (Y/n) went into the supply cupboard and the door jammed. She had screamed and when the teacher opened the door, (Y/n) was in tears.

Everyone knew she couldn't stand small confined places, they had picked on her enough for what happened in science class. Until (Y/n) began dating Eddie. No one was brave enough to pick on 'the freak's girlfriend' because Eddie was fiercely protective.

"I'll go find them." Eddie muttered as he set his bottle of beer down on the table and started to wander around the house. He could see Robin trying to get the music changed, again, but Nancy and (Y/n) had wandered off and it didn't look like Steve was going to get up and search for them anytime soon.

And Eddie knew his girlfriend, he knew what she was like. She didn't like wandering around strange places on her own and she wasn't one for going out for a smoke or walking off, especially not without Eddie.

His fingers tangled in his hair and he scratched his scalp as he sighed and started mulling about the house. He knew the girls weren't in the kitchen, he and Steve had just come from there with a multitude of different drinks stuffed into their hands and the creases of their elbows.

A soft "Where are you babe?" muttered beneath his breath as he did a circle of the room before he tried to aim for the stairs.

Before he got to the stairs, his attention was stolen by a round of chanting and the curious side of him glanced to the left.

His eyes narrowed as he saw people crowding in the hall. (Y/n) didn't like crowds of people, but she and Nancy might have wandered over there to see what was going on. Or they could have headed outside to get away from the crowd.

Curiosity got the better of him and Eddie pulled away from the stairs so he could trudge down the hall instead with his head angled to one side and his eyes narrowing in on the scene ahead of him. But when his eyes clocked a familiar set of caramel curls, his expression faded into confusion.

Nancy. She was on the edge of the crowd, desperately pushing against them but she couldn't get to whatever everyone was crowding round. And Eddie couldn't see (Y/n) anywhere.

The laughter and the drunken slurrs instantly faded into hushed whispers and panicked voices when Eddie neared, and that made him uncomfortable. There were some people at school who feared him, and he rather liked that because it meant they stayed away from him and didn't try and talk or tease or irritate him. And then there were others who tried to taunt him and make fun of him, but Eddie's sense of humour was warped and he loved how irritated they got when he didn't react the way they wanted.

But right now, seeing people glare at him and look at him with worry in their eyes, that was unsettling. He didn't normally get this kind of reaction, and at a party no less.

His breathing began to turn deep and his chest heaved against his denim jacket when he glanced to the right and saw what everyone was crowding around. There was a door, whether it was to a bathroom or a bedroom, Eddie had no idea. But he could see Jason Carver clinging to the handle and someone else stood so close that the door couldn't be opened.

Oh no.

"Who's in there?" There was a dangerous look in Eddie's eyes and his jaw started to grind and lock in place as he pointed to the door.

There were still people laughing, oblivious to his presence. People like Jason and Chrissy and their cronies who hadn't noticed Eddie stood on the outskirts of the crowd of teens hanging around the door.

"Who's in there?" He rose his voice when he got no answer but his tone deepened in pitch as he slammed his hand against the wall to try and gain someone's attention. Anybody's attention. If it was who he thought it was in that room then there was going to be Hell to pay for this.

Nancy hated the way Eddie's expression changed from concerned to absolutely livid when they both heard (Y/n)'s scream. She knew. Nancy knew from the moment she came out the bathroom and saw the crowd with (Y/n) nowhere in sight, that something bad had happened. And when she heard her friend calling out, she tried to get closer. But people just kept pushing her away. She had already gotten a bruise to her chest where someone pushed her into the wall to stop her from getting to the door.

"Eddie!" The tone in (Y/n)'s voice was desperate and told them just how panicked she was, if her screams weren't enough to convey her terror.

Within an instant, Eddie's hands curled around Jason's shirt and he tackled him backwards until he let go of the door and stumbled against the wall where Eddie pinned him up.

"Why the fuck would you do that?!" His nostrils flared as he seethed until his face was going red and every vein and artery in his body seemed to pop out beneath his skin. His head twisted to the side and he glared at Nancy as everyone started to shout and move. "Get her out!"

She needed no more prompting than that to wrench the door open but Nancy stumbled back with a gasp when (Y/n) fell forward.

(Y/n) had been pressing all of her weight on the door in a feeble attempt to get someone to open it. She tried bashing her knees, her shoulder, her whole body into the wooden door but it didn't budge. Until now. Her hands and knees scraped the carpet floor as she went down with a thud as soon as the door swung open.

Gasps and sobs left her lips and tears dripped from her eyes that were burning and stinging like cleaning solution had been poured into her eyes.

She ignored whoever was trying to talk to her, there was too much static in her head for her to be able to cooperate and even try to work out what she was being told. And as soon as hands tried to grapple for her, (Y/n) screamed and thrust her elbows out in every direction until whoever it was left her alone.

"Eddie- oh God- Steve stop him!" Nancy's hands tangled in her hair and she stepped back as she tried to stop her head from exploding and get someone to do something.

The idiots who had been gathering around had quickly dispersed in every direction. All that was left was Jason's friends and Chrissy, stood to one side as she watched in terror as Eddie slammed his fist down into Jason's nose. It didn't take a genius to know that Jason's nose had broken and the thick rings cladding Eddie's fingers cut into his cheek, marking his pale skin.

"Eddie get off him! Jesus Christ! Someone go get (Y/n)." Steve thrust a hand in the other direction to where he could see (Y/n) scrambling to stumble away. They couldn't let her run off when Steve had seen her crying, they couldn't just watch her leave on her own someone had to go with her.

His hands reached down and he used all his might to wrench Eddie off of Jason who wasn't even fighting back, although that could be because Eddie's punches had stunned him.

Eddie wasn't one for fights. He used words and jokes to deflect situations and he loved winding people up by taking the piss out of them. He made self-deprecating jokes against himself too which always riled people up. It took a lot for Eddie to feel the need to fight physically, something he was usually against. But he couldn't help it.

They had tortured (Y/n) by locking her in there.

He swung his arms at his sides, screeching "Get the Hell off me!" until he realised it was Steve. But he still shrugged off Steve's touch when he scrambled back onto his feet.

His sleeve swiped beneath his lips and nose and he shook his hands out at his sides, thankful he was wearing all his rings as they had saved him from splitting his knuckles. The rings had done all the work of damaging Jason's face with minimal backlash on Eddie's knuckles and skin.

He slammed his palm against the wall as he hurried down the hall, glad everyone was moving out of his way so he didn't have to push them.

He knew Steve and Nancy were half a second behind him while Robin was a step in front, trying to catch up with (Y/n).

The fresh air hit each of them like a truck and the cold seeped into (Y/n)'s chest and caused her lungs to seize up. Her hands moved to press to her chest, begging her lungs to start working again as she gagged and tried to claw for a deep breath.

Her body writhed and shook when she felt hands reaching out for her again and she tried her best not to scream because she knew the only people who would have followed her out here were her friends.

"What- what was that? What happened?" Robin managed to rest a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder for all of two seconds before she was shaken off.

"They locked her in a closet but she's claustrophobic."

"Assholes." Spat past Robin's lips in a low grunt as she glanced towards the house as if she hoped they would all hear her and feel sorry for themselves. As if they could do that to someone when they were supposed to be at a party. Everyone was supposed to be enjoying themselves. How did listening to (Y/n) panic and scream count as fun or enjoyment for anyone? They were sick.

(Y/n) furiously wiped her hands across her face to try and clear away the tears that were soaking into her face. And when she slowly turned around to face them all, there was only one person she was looking at.

She didn't have to say anything at all for Eddie to hurry forward and deadlock his arms around her. One hand cupped the back of her neck and the other arm pinned around her lower back near her hips, binding her into his chest like he was trying to stuff her into his heart to keep her safe.

He smothered his lips in the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo as he tried to calm down his breathing and stop himself from becoming enraged.

His hands were shaking against her skin and each breath Eddie took felt like his chest was about to explode.

"It was- I… like mum-"

"I know, I know babe." Eddie hushed against her hair as he began to lean them from side to side like they were doing some kind of slow dance together.

Eddie knew. He was the only one in the group who knew that it wasn't just claustrophobia for (Y/n). It was bad memories too.

She had told Eddie about what her mum was like and how she had treated her when she was younger and each story Eddie heard made him furious. He thought his childhood with his parents had been bad, but Eddie would take that any day over how (Y/n)'s mum had treated her and brought her up.

Her mum used to lock (Y/n) in the closet when she was 'bad', but that could be anything. From (Y/n) not finishing her meal or doing something as simple as spilling something on the floor.

It was how (Y/n) had learned not to tell her mum things, such as that some of her closest friends were boys because she knew her mother would think she was being promiscuous and try to punish her or call her names. there had been times in (Y/n)'s childhood where she was locked in the closet at home and she was forced to kneel on grains of rice until her knees bled and her toes went numb.

She had even slept in there on a few occasions when her mum forgot she was in there. Or when (Y/n) had snook out for a few hours to see her friends, her mum had locked her in the closet and made her sleep in there so she couldn't try and sneak out again.

(Y/n) couldn't abide by small spaces anymore, especially not cupboards or closets like that. She could hear her mother's shrill voice telling her to be a good daughter for once. She could hear her mother crying as she wished (Y/n) would just be good and do as she was told and not be a brat or an ungrateful or promiscuous girl.

She was afraid of being locked away and never being able to get out again.

"I'm taking her home." Eddie announced quietly while his cheek rested on top of (Y/n)'s head and he looked towards the group. He continued to sway them from side to side while his fingers carded through (Y/n)'s hair and he sighed deeply.

It had been the plan anyway for them all to walk home. The trailer park was ten minutes away and Nancy had been hoping to catch a ride home with a friend. Steve and Robin didn't think that far ahead, they were used to hitching rides or drunkenly making their way home. Steve's place was close, the three of them could go and crash there for the night.

"You sure you'll be okay?"

Eddie nodded at Robin before he squeezed (Y/n) in his arms to try and make sure she was ready to go home. Back to her new home, where she didn't have to worry what time she got back or coming up with a good excuse for where she had been and who she had been. Back to a home where she was loved and welcomed and treated with respect rather than imposing anger to make her fall into place.

Home was now with Eddie; home was finally somewhere safe.

[hugheses]

I think there was a bit before this but this is most of it.

Transcript below cut

[Cole]

Yeah, I mean, I think both of our older brothers played together growing up, so I think somewhere along the way we met. But I think I played a tournament in Toronto with the Bulldogs, with Jack, and that was kind of the first time I was like, I think I'm a pretty bad hockey player. But, I mean, the whole family's great.

They love the game, they're so passionate about it, but obviously from any age you knew Jack was going to be something special.

[Amanda]

What was it about the way he played from that young age that you could see that? Because you're not such a bad player yourself, too, you know?

[Cole]

I mean, just the way he skated. He could always handle the puck well, move the puck well, but I think it's just like the skating talent, everybody at that age could kind of move around, but he was like, probably skated the same way he does now, just a little bit slower back then. You know, he's very special, and it's cool to see how far he's come, but for sure always special to watch.

[Amanda]

And I know that you guys speak to each other, you're still really good buddies, right? So tell me what the Hughes brothers are like when they're up at their cottage. I've heard the stories, the boat, the house, all that.

What's it like when you guys get away together, away from this game?

[Cole]

I mean, it's pretty much anything that we can play a game at. I mean, I just moved five minutes away from their place, so it's even worse than it was. I mean, they're just chill guys.

I mean, they like to compete or whatever, but surprisingly really good cooks and guys that take care of themselves. Obviously, it's always fun being on the boat and kind of messing around, but I think at the end of the day, everybody's just looking out for each other and having a good time. But summertime is fun for sure.

[Amanda]

They are very competitive, as I'm sure you are as well. So what brings out the most competitive spirit? Is it pool?

Is it something, you know, water ski- What is it that brings out that summer competitive spirit the most that gets a little heated?

[Cole]

Yeah, I mean, obviously that pool table's gotten the most use I've ever seen out of something. It's a chalkboard with so many names about how many wins they have. It's either that, ping pong.

Otherwise, we're on the boat. But some nights can get a little bit more fun than that. But again, everything's just out of fun.

I think we've got a good group of guys over there, and everybody just likes hanging out with each other.

[Amanda]

And what's Luke like away from the arena? I mean, he's got a real competitive drive too, and I've heard that he is the best at pool. He's shaking his head, by the way, for people who can't see.

Cole is shaking his head. Is he actually the best at pool?

[Cole]

Yeah, I mean, he's tough to beat. I think everybody's chasing him. I mean, I think he's got his own pool stick.

I don't want to confirm that, but I want to say everybody's chasing him down. If you don't know that, he'll probably tell you. No questions asked.

He's also a guy who never stops eating.

[Amanda]

You know his nickname is Rusty, right? Do we know where that originates? I mean, obviously I know it's from Ocean's Eleven and Brad Pitt's character, Rusty, who in every scene he's always snacking on something or whatever, but it's kind of crazy.

[Cole]

I think he's going to fill himself out pretty well moving forward here.

[Amanda]

And then just as friends, what do you enjoy most about competing against them?

[Cole]

I mean, honestly, they're really special at what they do. They love what they do. It's pretty cool to be able to get to train with them and kind of compete against the best, and that's kind of what you want.

So to be around them, golf with them, do whatever, it's definitely good to just stay competitive in the offseason, but also have guys like that you can lean on and talk to throughout the year.

[Amanda]

All right, we'll do this quickly. Out of the three of you, we'll leave Quinn out of this because he's not involved here. So out of the three of you, who is the best wakeboarder?

[Cole]

Jack.

[Amanda]

Who drives the boat the best?

[Cole]

Probably Jack, too. Luke's pretty good, but I think everybody's more comfortable when he's not behind the wheel. Do you have your boating license? Are you able to?

I've driven their boat a couple times, yeah. I've got to get one for myself, but I probably trust myself more than Luke.

[Amanda]

Best baseball player, if you play?

[Cole]

Me, 100%.

[Amanda]

You?

[Cole]

Yeah, we used to play in high school. I know they all played growing up, but for sure me. We'll have to settle that this summer in a batting cage or something.

[Amanda]

Do you guys play basketball at all together?

[Cole]

Oh, yeah, we used to play two-on-two, one-on-one. If a guy gets out of hand, I think me and Alex Turcotte won a two-v-two this summer. We beat Luke, which is surprising.

Getting him down low, it's tough to defend, but you can get him moving on the outside. You can't keep up. He for sure got his fair share of points on me down low, which is not fun.

[Amanda]

Two-on-two, who is Luke? Is it Luke and Jack? Is it Luke and Quinn?

[Cole]

I don't know who he was with. I mean, we have a huge group, like Larkin, Norris. Glendening, too.

We had a bunch of guys that were just like dogs in a paint. It was crazy. Me and Turcs won, and I was like, there's no way we just did that.

We needed to be on the shelf for two weeks afterwards. That was probably the most sweat I've ever had today, for sure.

[Amanda]

Lastly, Ellen has told me this story, how when they were growing up, that Ellen and Jim used to tell Quinn and Jack, please just try and pass the puck to Luke once in a while. Let the guy do it once in a while. I know you're laughing there.

What does that tell you about these brothers, that family? Does that not check out when it comes to Luke and the boys?

[Cole]

Yeah, I mean, obviously, being the younger brother, I'm a younger brother, too. That's just how it is. But now I think everybody's old enough that it's kind of getting out of the question a little bit.

But he for sure is always the last one for stuff. I feel like I always hear Ellen kind of tell him, just get Luke in on something. Get Luke involved a little bit more.

But Luke's great, a really good human being, to be honest with you. Definitely needs a little bit more respect, I think. And I'll give it to him this summer, for sure.

But I think he's being able to move into the house this year. Now that he's played a couple more games, so that's huge.

[Amanda]

Thanks, Cole. Really appreciate it.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Friendship In Escape

Summary: Steve Rogers x fe!Reader -> After escaping a party, you meet Steve Rogers. It's in a simple conversation, you and him find common ground and from that a friendship grows. Question is, will either of you ever find the courage to act of the underlying feelings?

Disclaimer: This is a LONG one. Spoilers ahead for most of the main Captain America/Avengers films from The Avengers. Also, there's probably a lot of plot holes in this fic so we're just gonna ignore them. Slow, slow burn. Angst-y moments. Found family, fluff, taking care of each other. Some swearing. Reader helps Steve adjust to the modern world. Lots of hugging. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes but we're gonna ignore them, too (it's late and I'm pretty sure my brain is fried). Hope you enjoy it <3 Not proof read.

The party had been humming to life for an hour or more before the honorable host finally showed his face. Dawned in a big name branded suit, Tony Stark stood at the top of the stairs, calling for people to start the party. 

There was meant to be music, laughter, too many drinks and a fight he’ll be able to tell a story about at the next party. And you were sure, by the end of the night, he’d get his wish. 

This party in particular had been the third you’d been dragged along to in the space of a month. It hadn’t changed since you were a child. 

Posh names belonging to posh people with deep pockets and, when the time called for it, had long arms, too. The amount of money that was gathered from parties like this were worth the events being held. 

But never once had you felt comfortable. 

It wasn’t the shoes or the dress. In fact, getting ready was the best part of the night. But being dragged to the same people, with the same stories, being told about the same single people in their family, their sons, nephews, cousins. Being told to stand and take a picture with a smile that will let everyone know how fun the parties are. 

But they weren’t. 

For others they were. But for you? You had more fun spending time alone in the libraries at University, studying, answering company emails and working, mostly, from behind the curtain. 

If you could have done that, you would have avoided the parties all together. Relationships with other businesses were already solidified and had been for almost fifty years. 

So, after the fourth hour of walking around the gala room, standing and being forced to listen to the same conversations that you’d heard your whole life, listening to people be more interested in what Tony Stark had placed around his hosting room, and being introduced to another twenty something with a multi-billion dollar company behind his family’s name, but no integrity, you found your escape. 

“Darling, where are you going?” Your mother asked as you handed her your drink. 

“Just to the bathroom.”

She gave you a smile. “Hurry back. Sandra told me she’s bringing her cousin. Special invite from Mr Stark himself.”

You forced your millionth smile of the night and nodded. “Will do.”

As you took the stairs up towards the upper floors and bathrooms, you looked down over the edge of the balcony. They were preoccupied, listening to somebody’s story. 

Rather than taking a right, you took a left, bumping into a waitress. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Can I help you with something?”

You looked around you. “Just promise you didn’t see me. I need a break.”

The waitress just smiled. “There’s some rooms that haven't been decorated yet. Just take a right at the end of the hall.”

You looked down the hall, looked back and smiled at her. The first genuine smile of the evening. 

“Thank you.”

She shrugged. “This is my fifth party helping the host. We all need a break every once in a while.”

You thanked her again before walking down the hall. The minute you turned the corner, the party seemed like it was miles away. Every once in a while, you heard a roar of laughter but it never got any louder than that. 

With a sigh of relief, you decided to explore the different rooms. Some had tarp over the entrances, the insides not being suitable to survive at least an hour in. From holes in the floors to fresh paint fumes and drying plaster. 

But then one at the very end of the hall had a door. So, taking your chance, you opened it. 

“Oh!”

Inside stood a man dressed in a woolen style suit, his tie loose around his neck. He looked as if he’d been pacing and deep in thought before you’d opened the door. 

“I-” You looked around you, fearful you were about to get into trouble. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone- Sorry.”

“Trying to escape the party, too?”

You stopped trying to close the door and looked at him. You couldn’t put your finger on it; maybe it was the way he stood, maybe it was the tone in his voice or maybe it was the way he was looking at you, but you saw something trustworthy in him. 

An unlikely friend in a place where you had none. 

“What gave it away?”

He smiled, softly. “You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.”

You stepped inside. “Thank you.”

“I- I’m Steve, by the way.” He held out his hand and you shook it. 

“Y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

For the second time that evening, you gave a genuine smile. “Likewise. So, what are you hiding from? A match-making mother, or a business minded father?”

“Neither.” Steve laughed a little. 

You walked further into the room before finding a spot with less sawdust on the ground. You’d been on your feet for a long time. You found the perfect spot against a wall between two windows. 

“Wow,” you brushed what sawdust you could with your feet before turning around and tucking the skirt of your dress down. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

He chuckled. “Not a big one.”

You shrugged, stretching your legs out and crossing them at your ankles. You patted the ground beside you. “My parents want me to socialise. I’d say talking with you qualifies as that. I’ve got time.”

Steve smiled as he watched you, finally agreeing to sit beside you. 

And for the first time in almost a month, you weren’t bored. 

Talking and listening to Steve didn’t make you so bored out of your mind you would have rather ran a cross country race. Talking with Steve was the first time you felt comfortable at one of these fancy galas. 

You’d come to learn that he was, in fact, the man they’d dug out of the ice. That he was the soldier lost to time, being forced into a new century without any idea how to deal with it. 

“I know a little of what that’s like,” you admitted to him. “To feel lost. I’ve been attending different parties like this since I was a kid. And never once have I felt comfortable attending them. I can talk to everyone in the room and feel completely loney, but I can sit on my own in a quiet place like this and…feel comfortable and be myself.”

“I had that once.” Steve told you. “I’d say back home, but I’m still in the same country. To be honest, I don’t know what anything is outside of this room.”

Then an idea popped into your head. “I could help.”

“How?” 

You shrugged. “I could help you adjust. I’m no therapist but I know how most things work in the 21st century. Movies, media, books. You said they gave you a document packet?”

Steve nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a folded over thick document. 

“With all the stores and street names, I don’t recognise anything anymore.”

Opening it up, Steve handed it to you. It had an address, some pictures, different appointments and different wifi codes. 

“I know where this is.”

“You do?” Steve seemed surprised. They’d given him the address three days ago with no instruction on how to find it. They just told him something about Google Maps. Whatever a Google was. 

You nodded. “It looks kinda old.”

Steve shrugged. “‘Guess it’s their way of giving me some familiarity.” 

You shook your head. “When do you move in?”

“End of the week.”

“I’ve got a meeting in the morning, but I can take the rest of the day – help you move in, if you’d like.”

Steve looked at you. “You’d really do that for me?”

You handed his document back and nodded. “I would. Just because you were given an image for them to control, doesn’t mean that they should take advantage of the person you are behind it all.”

“That’s really kind of you, ma’am.” 

You smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

For an hour more, you and Steve just talked. Filled with quiet laughter and genuine smiles, you and Steve found an unlikely friendship in each other that evening. 

A friendship that would only grow stronger and stronger over the years. 

At the end of that week, you met Steve outside the SI building before walking with him towards the underground and pointing out different landmarks for him to recognise. A university campus, a museum, a deli store that served the best sandwiches. You explained about the times for the trains that headed towards the different states. Finally, walking down the different streets, Steve started to recognise a few different places. New businesses stood in their places, but the bricks around them were the same. 

“Pretty sure I got beat up in that alley.”

You followed Steve’s eye-line before looking back at him. “Bet your mom was beside herself with the amount of times you came home with a black eye.”

Steve held a reminiscent smile on his face as he looked at his shoes. “Just a kid from Brooklyn who was too dumb enough to run away from the fight.”

You watched Steve for a moment; something in his tone told you those weren’t just his words. 

“Come on, we’re almost there.”

You took Steve’s hand, leading him down the street before you both arrived at the apartment block. A couple of younger kids were playing out in the street, kicking a football around until they scored it round the corner of the building, one of their mother’s yelling to play in the back. 

A guy with a coffee cart served passers by heading back from their lunch break, on the corner. 

Unlocking the front door, you and Steve walked up the first few flights of stairs before finally reaching his new home. 

As Steve opened up the door and walked inside, he was met with a living space that probably hadn’t had someone live there…maybe ever. The furniture seemed old, the kitchen table was rusting a little at the bottom of the legs and the curtains had seen better days. 

A few boxes had been stacked by the entrance way with different labels scribbled on them. 

You rifled through them. “Bed sheets, books, clothes.”

You took a note of the size label. “You know, I think one of my friends might have some clothes you’d like. She runs a clothing company that does everything from a vintage style to modern day. I’m sure she’d love to let you rifle through her products; see if there’s anything you’d like to take off her hands.”

You turned around but Steve hadn’t been listening. Instead, he���d been focusing on the case files that were strewn across the kitchen table. 

Standing beside him, keeping your eye on his reactions, you looked down at the table before you came across a picture. You had to take a breath. 

Steve had told you a little about his friends from the war. The Howling Commandos. 

“Is that them?”

Steve nodded.

It took Steve a while to get used to his new apartment, but with your help, he found it becoming a home. You helped him change the bedsheets and work out his washing machine before putting your phone number into his phone. 

“Think of it like a telegram,” you told him. “But rather than waiting weeks to hear back, it’s almost instantly.”

In the weeks that followed, you met Steve at his apartment every few days. On the weekends, you showed him around some of the thrift stores where he’d found a new kitchen table and some dishes to use in the kitchen. 

One of your friends – the same friend that ran a clothing company – had delivered some new curtains. They were plain, but they were better than the ones Steve had been left with. 

Meanwhile, Steve found an old gym where he could spend his evenings and, with your help, had figured out the basics of a phone and computer. 

The one Shield had given him was far too high tech, even for you. So, you had brought Steve one of your old ones. It was still pretty modern, but it was a lot simpler to use than the Stark Industries issued one. 

Then he got pulled into helping Shield with a threat that, to him, would have been best left in the ocean. 

News reports came in thick and fast during the attack on New York. You hadn’t heard from Steve during it, until you nearly ran into him in the middle of the street as mechanical…whatever the hell they were, were flying through the sky. 

“Why are you still in the city?! Everyone needs to get out.”

You nodded. “I know, but people needed help.” You looked down at his shield. “You know how to use that?”

Steve nodded. 

“Can you break a lock with it?”

Steve followed you as you ran down an alley before disappearing around the corner and to an employee entrance. Neither you or Steve could tell what had welded a lock shut, but considering some kind of blue weapon lay not too far out in the middle of the street with similar residue being left of the door, you could only gather it had been some alien technology. 

It took a few tries but the lock finally busted open and a bunch of parents with their kids came flooding out of the doors. As you and Steve started directing people to safety out of the city, you saw the way the kids looked up at Steve. 

The whole image of Captain America had been controlled by the government, making him an image away from Steve Rogers. But nothing could control the way those kids looked up at Steve as their hero. 

A comic book hero that existed in real life. 

“Ma’am, is that everyone?” Steve asked one of the women that left the room. 

She seemed distressed as she looked around. “I-I think so.” Then she ran off with the others. 

Something in your gut told you to check the rest of the room, and Steve followed you inside. 

“Go! Help the others! I can look after myself.”

“But-”

“Steve.” You looked at him. “Go. They need you.”

It took him a minute but he took your word for it and ran back out of the door. Meanwhile, you checked under every table and desk before something caught your eye at the side of one of the cabinets. 

A kid, no older than six. 

“Hey, honey.”

“Mommy was meant to pick me up.”

You looked around, hearing something hit a building nearby. 

“I’ll help you look for her. Can I pick you up?” The kid nodded. “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

“Sophie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie. Come on, let's go and find your mom.”

After three hours of destruction over the city, and countless injuries being collected by people, it wasn’t until a mom came running through the crowds of EMTs and doctors, screaming out for her child that you and Sophie, sitting in the back of an ambulance, looked up. 

And Sophie called out. 

Jumping from the bench, Sophie looked outside and saw her mom running through the crowd. You watched as they collided and sank to the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why aren’t you with the rest of your class? Where are they?”

“Hey,” you said, walking behind Sophie. “They got separated when trying to clear the city.”

“Did you save her?”

“I got her out-” Suddenly, the mom crushed you with a hug. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I-” The tears continued to flow from her eyes. 

“It’s alright. All that matters is that she’s safe.”

“Thank you so much.”

Hours later, you had finally made it back home, had showered and switched your TV on. The news had been following updates and different people’s theories of what had happened. 

Then a knock came to your door. 

Upon opening it, you were greeted with a fresher looking Steve Rogers. 

“Shouldn’t you be with a medic?”

Steve smiled, “Shouldn’t you? Between the pair of us, I’m the one who has a serum running through their veins.”

You looked in his hand. “Is that a pizza?”

Steve nodded. “Didn’t know which kind you’d like, so I got the classic. Figured you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Inviting him inside, Steve laid it on the coffee table. 

“Shouldn’t you be helping The Avengers or something?”

“Avengers?” Steve looked at you with a curious look. 

You just pointed at the screen. “Oh, right. Yeah, we’ve all decided to take a break. But Shield tells me they’ve finally found me a job.”

“That’s something to celebrate.”

Steve shrugged. “Kinda hard to celebrate when an entire city almost got levelled to the ground.”

You understood. “I’m gonna head back tomorrow and see if they need any help.”

“Can I come with you?” 

“You don’t have to ask, Steve.”

He smiled, if a little sheepishly. 

For the rest of the evening, you and Steve shared a pizza and talked until neither of you wanted to say anything else. 

So, you picked out a film and placed it into the DVD player. And you and Steve just sat and watched it. 

As the months passed, you and Steve slipped into a familiar routine. He got better at texting, but you’d come to find he preferred to call. And during the days he was at the training facility in Washington and devoid of signal, he’d write you letters. 

And you wrote them back. 

He’d also started keeping a list, you’d noticed, of things you’d say in passing or you’d tell him to listen to or watch. 

On the quiet afternoons you spent together, Steve would open up more. He told you more about the 40s and being in the army. He told you more about his childhood and his best friend, Bucky. 

You’d surprised him one afternoon by taking him to the Smithsonian. They had a new exhibit put up – one pillar being dedicated to Bucky and his friendship with Steve. 

In one of his final letters, he’d told you of a man he’d basically been trolling on his morning runs. You’d come to find out his name and you smiled. 

Outside of you and the members of his team, Sam Wilson was the first friend Steve had made. 

However, you didn’t get to meet him in person until you got a call from him, under Steve’s contact. Of course, the minute the headline had flashed on your screen, you’d tried to get into contact with him. He’d fallen, or rather, jumped, from an elevator and fallen a hundred feet or more to the ground. His own work seemed to be after him. 

So, when you were told he’d fallen, once more, from one of the jets and had been in surgery, you rushed to him. 

Entering his room, Natasha had been the one to take you to his room after two nurses read your name on his file but wouldn’t let you through. 

“He’s alive, as you can see.”

“If I get a call like this again, telling me you’re dead, I’ll kill you myself.” You warned Steve before you walked to his side. The bastard had the audacity to chuckle. 

“I promise. If I’m gonna die, I’ll ask your permission first.”

From behind you, you heard a voice smile. “I like her.”

“Y/n, this is Sam. Sam, this is Y/n.”

From that day on, the movie and pizza nights came to include both Sam and Natasha. However, unbeknownst to you and Steve, the movie nights also came to include the rest of the team. 

Natasha had been trained to read people. And she’d never read anyone easier than you and Steve. 

And her information soon became Clint’s information which soon became everyone’s information when he accidentally let it slip to the others. 

Tony had been planning a party. Rather, he wanted to throw one and Pepper had come up with a list of people to invite. And when she read out your name, Steve had looked up but Clint had spoken first. 

“Is that Steve’s girl?”

They all looked around at each other before looking at Steve. He had a girl?

Steve faltered. “Yes, well, no. She’s my friend. We’re friends but-”

Tony turned to Pepper. “Invite Steve’s girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends. And she doesn’t really like big parties so-”

“Invite her anyway. I can’t believe Clint knows about her before we do.” Then he turned to Natasha. “I suppose you already knew.”

She just nodded. 

And that was just the start of it. 

A few nights later, Steve had given you a heads up which you appreciated but it did put you on edge a little. But all in all, it was…fun. 

It was the first time you enjoyed yourself at a party and didn’t hate every minute of it. 

Firstly, the attire was fancy but not gala fancy. It was a celebration of Hydra finally being overthrown from Shield.

You arrived in your heels that didn’t hurt your feet so much, wide legged trousers and a graphic t-shirt. 

“Now, who is that?”

At the bar, Rhodey, Thor, Tony and Maria all stood watching as you entered the room, clearly looking for someone. Tony and Rhodey had met most of the building at the party. Maria had met them all – at the very least, she had a file on them all. 

But not on you. 

From behind the bar, Natasha leaned over. “That’s Steve’s girl.”

From the bar they watched as Sam noticed you first and called you over. You looked relieved at seeing a familiar face. Even more relieved at seeing Steve. Tony watched as Steve noticed you, too. 

The game of pool Steve had been winning at suddenly took a dip as his aim went off kilter, his attention immediately going to you. 

“Steve has a woman?” Thor asked, the other just nodded. “Well, we must meet her.”

However, as they all went to walk towards the pool table, Maria reached her hand out. “You boys swarm her, Steve will make sure you never get to speak to her again. I will go.”

And so she did. 

The others watched on as Steve introduced you to Maria, every protective instinct a man got when introducing his girlfriend to the rest of his family going up. And somehow, with simple ease, Maria had gained a small part of your friendship and led you towards the second bar. 

Meanwhile, Steve watched as you walked away, the heart in his eyes never leaving. Not even when Sam nudged him and they got back to the game. 

Throughout the night, Steve kept his eye on you. 

He almost broke the sound barrier by how quickly he turned up at your side when you were dragged into the conversation circle with most of them. 

“So, tell me.” Tony said, sitting beside you. “How did you meet our fellow Captain?”

“Tony.” Steve warned, though no true malice could be traced in his voice. 

You smiled. “It’s okay. We actually met at one of your parties.”

Tony sat back. “Really?”

You nodded. “Some fancy gala a few years back.”

Conversation between yourself and the rest of the group seemed to take a natural flow until eventually, all your nerves had subsided. 

But that didn’t stop you from needing a break by the end. Between talking with Natasha, Maria and Thor for most of the night, and beating Sam at a few rounds of pool – something Steve found incredibly entertaining,

Tony had backed Sam on his idea that you were cheating. Nobody won that many rounds of pool one after the other. So, as the others gathered and watched the game, Steve stepped forward and he covered your eyes. 

For a moment you looked up at him and smirked, and he smiled back with a light shrug of his shoulders. 

“Yes, thank you, Cap.” Sam said. “See. This will prove that she’s cheat-”

As you hit the white cue ball, everyone watched and was left speechless as every ball suddenly found its home in the pockets, leaving you with an automatic victory. 

Opening your eyes once more and standing up, you looked at the pool table with a proud look before looking at Sam. You’d never seen him as shocked. Looking at Steve, he seemed shocked but also proud. 

“Still think I’m cheating?” 

Tony just looked at you. “She’s a witch. She had to be. Were you cursed as a child? Born to some Vampire in Europe or something?”

Steve chuckled, as did you. 

“Come on, Tony. Accept your defeat.”

As the hours passed, eventually you found yourself outside on the balcony, taking a breather from the party. 

“Figured you’d find some place quiet.”

You stood back up, holding onto the balcony bar. “Hey.”

Steve smiled. “Hey. You okay? They can be a bit much.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not that. Just needed a minute. You know, this is the first time I’ve enjoyed myself at one of these?”

Steve looked up at the building before looking back at you with a smile on his face. “It is better when people aren’t trying to show you off.”

You nodded with a smile. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for escaping the last one and finding me in that room.”

It was in that moment that you realised the last time you’d gone to any kind of gala or party of the same scale was the first time you’d met Steve. 

You smiled fondly at the memory. “Thanks for not being mad when I opened the door.”

“I could never be mad at you.”

“You didn’t even know me.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ve got a good judge of character.”

You felt yourself chuckle before you looked out across the rest of the city before a cold wind blew through making you shiver. 

“Here,” Steve shrugged off his jacket but before you could tell him you were fine, he placed it over your shoulders. 

It smelt of him. 

“Thanks.”

Steve just nodded with a smile watching as you placed your arms through the holes and wrapped it a little tighter around yourself before you looked out at the rest of the city with him. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is something going on between Maria and Sam?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “She’ll eat him alive.”

“He might be into that.” 

Steve laughed and closed his eyes in disgust. “What makes you ask?”

You shrugged. “Just something I’ve noticed. He looks at her like she hung the moon. Though, of course, that’s when she’s not looking. When she is, it's like I’m back at school rehearsing for Much Ado About Nothing.”

Steve’s joy widened. “You were in a play?”

You laughed. “I wasn’t any good. I was only put on stage because my folks donated so much money to the school. All I wanted was to work with Tech.”

Steve chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see that. But, I get what you mean about Sam and Maria. Who knows? If the timing is right…”

Steve looked at you and you felt something bigger was being hidden behind his words. Part of you certainly held out hope that there was. 

“We should probably get back inside.”

An hour later, most people had gone home so it was left with just Steve, yourself, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Maria, Tony, Rhodey and Thor. 

Still wearing Steve’s jacket, you were sitting in the middle of the sofa, your legs curled towards your chest. After he stood up, Steve came back and handed you a beer before he nudged your legs allowing him room to sit down before he pulled them across his lap. 

It was the standard procedure for you and him to sit on a sofa together. Mainly because his sofa in his old apartment had been small enough to do so. 

Despite changing apartments and the sofa, it was just something that stuck. 

The others took silent note of it as the debate continued between Thor and Clint over his hammer. 

By the time everyone was trying to lift it, Steve became one of the last. Sharing a look with you before looking at Thor, Steve stood up and tried to lift it. 

You watched as it squeaked on the table for a moment, but moved no further. However, your knowing grin – despite it never truly lifting from the table – caused you to look at Thor. 

He looked panic stricken. 

But Steve stood back and held his hands up. 

“Or…you’re all not worthy.”

“It’s still a trick!”

In the moments that followed, everyone turned to their own conversations; including you and Steve. 

But Clint and Natasha kept their eyes on you and Steve. Your legs over his lap, wearing his jacket, his focus solely on you, his hand rubbing lightly against the bottom of your leg that was exposed under your wide-legged trousers, your ever loving gaze on his that matched yours, light and soft smiles on your faces. 

“Ten bucks says they’ll be married in two years.” Clint whispered up to Natasha. 

“Deal.”

Something that Clint didn’t know, that Natasha did, was that you and Steve were fucking oblivious. 

They’d all be lucky if it happened in two years. 

Quite frankly, it should have happened two years ago. 

Suddenly, a high pitched noise rippled through the room. 

“Of course you’re not all worthy…”

Your eyes landed on an oil leaking…zombie robot?

His voice was deep and menacing and nothing about any of it felt comforting. 

“Steve?”

“Stark?”

“Jarvis?”

In a single turn of events you’d gone from laughing and joking with each other to suddenly defending yourself against a robot who claimed he’d killed someone. 

A swarm of them flew in through broken glass panels and Steve kicked up a table before any of them could hit either of you. 

You landed on the floor beside him, a little winded. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’m okay. Go, go, go. I’ll be fine.”

Steve helped you up before running off in the other direction. It was a whirlwind of blasts, bullets and shattered glass. 

At one point, one had you cornered as Tony unhooked another. And for a moment, you thought you’d be sent flying out of the window and out into the open before Steve took hold of it, throwing it back towards Thor before Clint threw him his shield. 

And it all ended as Thor sent his hammer flying through Ultron. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“Banner.” Tony called him over before they headed towards their lab. 

Meanwhile, Steve turned around before heading straight towards you and holding you in his arms, almost lifting you from the ground. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, letting the scent of him, his clothes, his jacket, calm you. 

“Yeah. Thanks for saving my life.”

Steve truly breathed for the first time since the high pitched noise had rang through the room. With a hand at the back of your head, he pressed a kiss to your temple and he closed his eyes. 

“Come on, let's go and find the others.”

However, as he took your hand, you pulled him back. “Steve.”

“Right, you-you’ll want to go home-”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. You’ve got glass in your arm.”

“Oh.”

“Does Tony have tweezers in his lab?”

Steve nodded. “I think so.”

Less than five minutes later, you sat Steve in one of the chairs, Bruce handing you and Maria a set of tweezers each. 

Staring with his arm, you plucked out the small fragments of glass before his skin healed over them, before holding his palm up to face you. Meanwhile, they began discussing the extinction of The Avengers and the possibility of nuclear codes getting out to the rest of the world.

Then rage got passed around the room. 

By the time morning rolled around, Steve drove you back home.

“Whatever happens…” You looked at Steve, a small voice in the back of your head begging for him to be imprinted in your memory as if he hadn’t already. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Steve nodded. “I promise. You’re the only one that can kill me, remember?”

You felt yourself laugh. At least he remembered. 

Looking at him again, you hugged him. “I mean it, Steve. Please be safe.”

He hugged you back, the feeling of him strong enough for you to still feel hours later. 

“I promise.”

Each day you didn’t hear from him was a little more worrisome than the last. And then when the media reported Shield helping evacuate people from a floating country…all you could do was hope Steve wasn’t one of the casualties. 

“Maybe I’ll take a leaf out of Barton’s book.”

“The simple life?”

“You’ll get there one day. Maybe you could get there with Y/n?”

Steve couldn’t deny he hadn’t thought about it once or twice. You and him. Together. More than friends. A part of him did think you felt it too. The same spark. Familiarity. The same love. 

“If something was gonna happen, it would have happened by now.” Steve told him. “Besides, I think the guy that wanted all that went into the ice seventy five years ago.”

Tony shrugged. “Don’t count on it. That guy is still there somewhere. See you ‘round, Rogers.”

As Tony drove away, Steve took in the building in front of him. And despite the acceptance he felt of being home, the idea of you and him…he figured that would always be with him. 

Even if it never happened. 

That night, Steve turned up outside your apartment with the next movie on his list and a case of soda. However, when you didn’t answer, he went in search of you. 

Opening the door to the roof, he looked around before spotting you in the very corner, sitting on the table of the picnic bench. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Looking around, you gave a sigh of relief at seeing him. He dropped the case on the table before you reached for him. 

“Thank god you’re okay.”

“How long have you been up here?”

“Since Nat called me and told me you’d landed. I couldn’t sit in my apartment anymore so…I came up here. Last time I looked out at the city was before everything went to hell.”

Steve looked out at the city himself before looking back at you. “We’re not out of the woods yet. Ross is probably about to reign hellfire down on…everyone.”

“What about the girl?”

“Wanda?”

You nodded. 

“I don’t know. She went through a lot, losing her home and her brother in one fowl sweep.” 

“You should train her.”

“What?”

“Train her,” you repeated. “You’re the only one who knows what it’s like to be in a war, to sign up to be experimented on. She’s gonna need someone who actually understands some of what she’s going through.”

Steve agreed with you. You had a point. 

“Tony can have a lot of influence and his heart can be in the right place but he doesn’t always remember that people didn’t have his childhood or his life.”

“He’s been through a lot.”

You agreed with Steve. “He has. But he’s never lost a brother, or his life to somebody’s cause. She’s gonna need help.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The rest of the evening was spent talking over what had happened, what Steve had thought when the earth quite literally started to lift from beneath him, what had happened with Banner and Nat and then you gave him your news. 

Bucky had been spotted. 

The next time you saw Steve was at Agent Peggy Carter’s funeral. You sat at the back for most of it, watching as Steve helped carry the coffin and as people gave their eulogies. 

You didn't know much about Peggy Carter personally, though you could remember learning about her in school. The founder of Shield, working alongside Captain America in her early career. And from meeting Steve, you’d come to know more about her. As well as how deeply both she and Steve were in love. 

You’d seen the clips at the museum, and with Steve beside you, it gave them a whole other meaning. And even though Steve living through the ice and landing himself in the 21st century had given you one of the greatest friendships you’d ever had, part of you felt angry for him. 

Angry at the fact he missed out on his chance with Peggy and that she had to live a life where, as far as anyone knew, Steve was dead. 

A soldier and a love story left stranded in time. 

You could remember when Steve had first visited Peggy, again. 

And now he had to say goodbye, again. 

“It was a beautiful service.”

Steve looked up and down the aisle to where you were walking towards him. He felt the breath get knocked out of him. Or maybe back into him. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use a friendly face?”

 A silent conversation then took place between you and Steve. Silent conversations weren’t unusual between you. A thousand words could be said in a look, but you’d both understand.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen after I leave here-”

“No, I know. I know.” You understood completely. After he walked out of the church, Nat would be leaving without him. 

“Today’s been a lot. Tomorrow’s gonna be a lot.” You looked back at Steve. “Right now can just be…right now. You’ve lost someone, Steve. Right now you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don’t have to be Captain America right now.” Your gaze turned to Peggy’s picture. “I might not have met her, but I know you and I both know she would be telling you, you don’t have to be Captain America right now. At this moment, you’re just Steve: World War Two veteran who has just lost a great love in their life and deserves a moment to breathe.”

Steve gave you a weak smile, his emotions building up in his chest. “Thank you.”

Stepping forward, you wrapped Steve in a comforting hug and for the next twenty minutes, you both stayed inside the church. 

There he told you the smaller facts about Peggy – the ones he’d learnt when she was with him and his Howling Commandos. 

But then the time came to leave. 

Walking down the different streets, hearing time tick away, you and Steve soaked up what time you could before everything was about to go to shit. 

And on a bench beside the River Thames, you and Steve said your goodbyes. Both of you knew something was going to go wrong. What that was exactly, neither of you could put your finger on it. But something was going to happen. 

It was only a matter of time. 

“Here.” 

“What’s this?”

Steve read the piece of paper. It was a set of coordinates. 

“I own a house. It’s in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Europe. If anything happens, Ross can’t touch you. The house had been in my family’s name for generations but one of my great aunt’s left it to me. It’s yours to use.”

“Y/n-”

“Take it, Steve. Nobody knows it exists so they won’t find you. It’s run down but there should be running water.”

Steve finally accepted it. “Thank you. You know, if Tony ever finds out about this, he’s gonna believe that you are a witch from a vampire family.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I am, you just don’t know it.”

Steve shrugged, pocketing the paper safely. 

“I’m gonna miss you.”

You took his hand. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

You tried your best to avoid the tears, but they were trying their hardest anyway. 

“Just promise me one thing, Steve.”

Steve nodded, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Be safe?”

You nodded. “Be safe.”

Your eyes locking with his, Steve decided to take a risk. There was a chance he might never be able to see you again. Whatever was going to happen, the first person they’d put a tail on would be you. 

He kissed you. 

With your hand on his lapel, you held him closer. It was short and bittersweet, but the memory of him and his kiss would forever be seared into your brain. 

And for a few moments, you just held onto each other, fearful of opening your eyes and accepting that one of you would have to walk away. 

With his finger, Steve gently brushed the stray hair from your face away and behind your ear before kissing you quickly for a second time. 

“One of us has to say goodbye.”

“I know,” you sniffed. “I know.”

“If there’s one thing I’m grateful for, it's that you walked into that room when you did. You were the first person to treat me like one and to help me. Thank you for wanting to escape that party.”

You laughed through the tears. “You never have to thank me for that. It’s crazy to think I almost didn’t go.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“So am I.”

Looking at each other for one final time, you leaned in and kissed him. You prayed that his hand by your waist would leave a brand – a different pain to carry with you than the one in your heart. 

Feeling yourself stand, the kiss broke away and you were the first to say goodbye. 

Walking down the stone pavement, you looked behind you before you turned a corner, only to find Steve had already gone. Between the bustling people, the bench you’d both just been sitting at was exactly that. 

A bench. 

Going home, you tried to find a way to keep yourself busy but no matter where you looked, everything reminded you of him. The movies you’d watched with him, the ones you didn’t. The pizza’s shared, and soda spilt, the curtain, bedsheets, books, clothes, pictures. 

You had some of his artwork in your house. Some of them people, most of landscapes – people and places you’d seen together. 

And in an album under your bed, you had his letters. 

Each one in its original envelope on one page and the pictures he’d drawn of the skyline from wherever he’d been. 

Some evenings, you’d reread his letters – still able to hear his voice. 

Then the headlines started to roll in. 

Captain America was a fugitive and had broken his team out of a high secure facility. 

And for almost two years a hunt was put on for him. You were interviewed every couple of months with the same questions. 

Did you know where he was? Had he contacted you? What information did he share with you?

Just because you’d given him a set of coordinates didn’t mean he’d use them. The last time you’d heard from Steve was in London and the only information he’d shared with you that day was about Peggy Carter and some of the old stories of when he was first in London in the 40s. 

In the meantime, your parents had convinced you to attend different dinner parties, charity shows, fundraisers and galas, all the while helping you find a date. 

Most of the people your mother had first introduced you to years ago, they were recently married. But the single ones she’d found; you dated some, though it never went any further than a sixth date – usually the date after your parents invited them to attend dinner. 

But no matter the fancy meal, or the conversation, or the man; none of them could beat a pizza, soda, a movie and…

Steve. 

None of them could beat Steve. 

But that all changed one afternoon when you were gardening. 

Living in the city had reminded you too much of Steve, and with the constant reminders of the memories and new threats and superheroes popping up, you decided to find somewhere nice to live. 

Someplace…simple. 

So, buying a house outside of the city with a few acres of land, you started renovating. Any business meetings you had could be done online which meant you had more time to fix your new home up. 

The smell of plaster, paint and sawdust filled your home for most of the days until finally things started to come together. New windows and locks were installed, the faulty taps were fixed and finally the entire place was given a new lease of life. 

And just as you were half way through with fixing your garden; planting some flowers and digging patches for a small allotment, a car pulled up outside your drive. 

On your knees in the dirt, it took a moment for your eyes to focus on the person climbing out of the car in the distance. 

They were tall, broad and had a beard. 

However, the closer they got, memories started to kick in. The walk, the frame…

You stood up and walked closer until you stopped again, feeling the breath being knocked out of you. 

“Oh, my god…”

He watched as you stopped in your tracks, your brain confirming who he was. Then you started running. Across the grass and onto the gravel path, you collided with Steve. 

“This is you, I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Steve shook his head and he held onto you, the essence of you filling his senses. 

“No, you’re not dreaming.”

You leaned back and looked at him before hugging him again. 

Finally, Steve set you back onto your feet and his hands remained at your waist. 

“Why are you back? Last I heard…”

“The team and I are keeping our distance for a few days. Nat’s headed to Ohio and Sam is trying to see his sister. It’s the best way to avoid Ross.”

You nodded, checking him over. He didn’t seem like he was dying. 

With a hand on his cheek, you smiled a little, pointing out the obvious. “You grew a beard.”

Steve smiled a little. “Helps me blend in.”

You looked into his eyes and smiled. “It suits you.”

Holding gently onto your wrist, Steve turned his head and kissed your palm and for a second you closed your eyes, leaning into him. 

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Placing your hand over his heart, Steve seemed to bear into your soul. “So am I.”

What followed was two hours of conversation around where he’d been and what he’d been doing since he left, and what you had been doing. 

Then he started to help. Painting the porch on the back of the house as you continued planting in the back garden, you spent time together. 

Time that was all too precious knowing he was on a clock. 

“Where did you learn to cook?” You asked Steve as you helped him chop up veg. 

With a smile on his face, Steve continued to prepare dinner. “I have a contact in Scotland. Their aunt runs a cafe and needed a few extra hands in the kitchen.”

As you helped Steve prepare dinner, you listened to the stories he’d gathered over his time away. Scotland, Spain, Germany, Italy, England, Poland, Norway, and many others. 

Once dinner was finished, you started to clean up. But from the table, Steve looked at you standing by the sink in front of the window. 

You’d never left his thoughts. 

Sat on that bench in London, he watched you walk away and for a moment, he remained where he was. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to see you again – not without heavy restrictions. 

He wanted you so desperately to turn around, but if you did, he would have followed you. He would have stood up and ran after you. 

So he left. 

He left before you could look around, he left before he would stop fighting himself and follow you. 

And each day he woke up, for the few moments in the morning where he would forget what had happened, where he would forget the world he’d been found in, he thought about you. He thought about calling you or writing you a letter. He thought about seeing you when he’d roll over in bed. But each time…

You weren’t there. 

You weren’t with him. 

You were at your home, thousands of miles from him. 

And he had no way of talking to you. 

Walking across the kitchen floor to you, he placed a hand on your waist before reaching across to the window cill. 

“What are you doing?” You smiled. 

Looking at you and turning up the dial, Steve smiled. “Come with me.”

Taking the cloth from your hand, Steve dropped it back into the bowl of soapy water and took your hand in his. Then, pulling you into the middle of the kitchen with him, you both started to slow dance. 

“What’s this for?”

Steve shrugged, holding your hand over his heart once again. “I don’t know how long I’ve got with you. Figured we could spend it not washing up.”

You felt yourself smile. “I think I like that.”

It was soft and slow. Swaying with the beat until the radio turned static, you and Steve remained in each other's arms. 

“Can you stay the night?”

Steve nodded. 

“Good.”

The night soon settled over your home, the stars slowly emerging from behind the clouds. With your porch taking on a blue hue in its own shadow, you and Steve sat side by side on your porch swing. 

Your hair still a little damp from your shower, Steve continued to run his fingers through it. And with your head on his chest, you let his heart beat calm you. For a moment, Steve turned his nose into your hair and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

After a few moments, he didn’t say anything. Not that you would have heard anything considering your body was begging for sleep. 

Carefully standing, Steve slipped one of his arms around your back and one under your legs before carrying you inside. He tucked you under your bed covers before making his rounds, locking up the doors and windows. Finally, he got in beside you. 

For years, he’d dreamed of it. 

Being with you, by your side, a domestic and loving day before laying beside you knowing he would be waking up beside you every morning. 

And Steve smiled as in your sleep you moved closer to him, your arms wrapping across his middle. 

You couldn’t remember when you’d gone from the porch to your bed, but you could remember Steve. Feeling his arms around you, his heartbeat under your cheek, his lips on yours…

“Hey,”

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed by your legs, fully dressed. 

“Hey, what time is it?”

Steve kept his eyes on you. “A little after four.”

You gave a groan and closed your eyes again. Steve chuckled. Reaching out, he gently swept the hair from your eyes, your head turning towards him. With his hand on your cheek, he felt your smile. 

It was your turn to hold onto him and kiss his palm. 

And just as the knowing sadness started to grow, Steve still smiled, leaning forward and kissed you. 

You would never get bored of his kiss.

Peppering it out, you held onto his face before your hands slipped around his back and you held him closer. 

With a sigh, Steve held you closer to him, trying to imprint the feeling of you in his arms. 

Trying your best to ignore the growing tears, you spoke. 

“Just promise me you’ll be safe?”

Steve chuckled a little. “You know you’re the only one who's allowed to kill me. But I promise.”

“Good.”

Holding on a little tighter, you silently begged for more time with him. But the clock was ticking. 

From above, there was deep rumbling. 

“You better go,” you told Steve. 

It took him a moment before he let go and with one final kiss, it was his turn to say goodbye. 

Hearing his boots walk across the floor of your bedroom, down the hallway, through the living room and towards your front door. 

You heard his pause for a moment and in that moment, you wondered what he would do if you called out for him. 

But he couldn’t stay any longer. 

People needed him. 

The world needed him. 

Hearing your front door click open, Steve’s footsteps trailed off as it closed once more until eventually the only sound that was left was the ever quieting sound of a rumbling jet engine.

Six months later, half of the world disappeared. 

With a snap of Thanos’ fingers, Steve watched as half of his team, his family, disappeared. And upon returning back to the Avengers’ compound, you were his first call. 

Only, you never answered. 

“Go.” Natasha told him. 

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

Making a break for it, Steve ran down into the garage before hopping on his bike. He’d made it to yours in half the time. 

Pulling up, he started calling out for you. His voice filled with desperation and fear, he ran up to your front door. 

It was unlocked. 

He almost tripped inside as he tried the door, the hinges getting stuck. 

“Y/N!”

He raced around your home; checking the kitchen, living room, pantry, washing room, office, bathroom, and the bedrooms before finally reaching yours. 

The bedding was strewn a little, the soft lines of the fitted sheet folded into where you would have been laying. The pain in Steve’s chest seemed to grow heavier by the minute. 

You weren’t here. 

One hand on his hip, another covering his mouth, Steve turned around in a slow circle. Tears pricking at his eyes, his mind had gone from running a thousand miles a minute to…being completely overrun by pain. 

He had nearly a thousand chances to be with you, to share a life with you that he’d always dreamed of – all before everything went to hell. 

But it was too late. 

You were gone. 

Just like half of the world, you were gone. 

Gripping onto the cold metal of your bed frame, Steve tried to steady himself. 

You were gone. 

Somewhere behind him, he heard a click. 

His entire body stilled. 

Slowly turning around he found…

No one. 

Somewhere down the hall, a door closed. 

As quietly as he could, Steve walked from your bedroom and down the hallway. The noises started to compile together. 

Shoes shuffling, a bag being thrown onto a counter, a bucket handle rattling against itself. 

From a corner, Steve saw an apron thrown across the back of a kitchen chair. A tap started to pour before someone switched it off. 

Then someone started to hum. 

You started to hum. 

Fully stepping into the kitchen doorway, Steve felt the entire life get knocked back into him. 

Then you turned around. 

He scared the shit out of you. 

The bucket slipping out of your hand, it knocked against your sink, the water spilling down the drain. 

Just as it did, you recognised him. 

Rushing forward, Steve enveloped you into his arms, your feet lifting from the ground. 

“You’re alive,” you breathed. 

“I thought you were gone.” Steve mumbled into your shoulder, holding onto you tighter. 

“Steve, what’s going on?”

“He won.” 

Steve set you back down on your feet and for the first time in almost seven months, you finally got a good look at him. He looked tired, worn. Beaten. 

“We almost did it, but he won.”

“Whose left?”

Steve tried his best to name those who were left. 

“We think Tony’s gone but we can’t be sure.”

The tears were falling from Steve’s cheeks as he told you. Wiping them away, you pulled him back into a hug. 

“I tried calling you but when you didn’t answer…” You could feel Steve’s entire body shaking under you. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. Steve, honey, you need to sit down. Let me get you some water.”

As you sat him down, Steve watched as you moved around your kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, running the tap until it was cold before handing it to him. 

“I’ll make you some food. When did you last eat? You should call Nat.”

“Right.”

After calling and updating Nat, Steve hung up the phone. And for the next few hours, Steve talked you through everything he could; right up to him running through your door. 

In the months that followed, a transition started to take place. People had to get used to a world where half of the people they loved were gone. 

And somewhere between Steve finding you in your kitchen and Tony and Pepper having their daughter, yourself and Steve finally came together. 

Properly. 

This time there were no goodbye kisses and fear of never seeing each other again. That biggest fear had been and gone. 

What you were left with was…acceptance. 

Acceptance that you had both almost completely lost each other for good. There was no point in avoiding feelings, or being scared of what might happen. 

You both had a chance at a life together. 

So you both took it. 

From then on your home with Steve became interchangeable between the Avengers compound and your house. Saving her from the lifetime supply of peanut butter sandwiches, you dragged Natasha when you could to your home with Steve and made her a decent meal. 

Being out in the open also gave her a breath of fresh air away from the training facility walls that never changed colour. 

And eventually things…settled. 

People found a new way of life, coming back each year to celebrate those who were lost. And then new life was brought into the mix. 

Not too long after Pepper had given birth to Morgan, you were faced with a positive pregnancy test result yourself. 

And Natasha was your first call. 

“What’s going on? I have an extra gun in the car if we need it.”

You showed it to her. “What does that show?”

“Holy shit, you’re pregnant.”

A small whimper left your lips as you handed her the test stick and started pacing around your bathroom. 

“Are…are we not happy about that?”

You whimpered again as you paced up and down. “I-I don’t know. We-we haven’t planned anything. I mean, we’ve talked about it a few times but what if something goes wrong? Are you sure it was positive?”

Natasha looked back at it. “Well, it’s got a plus sign so-”

“It’s the third I’ve taken this week. The other two came up invalid but that one was like a bright flashing light.”

Reaching for you by the shoulders, Natasha sat you down. “Okay, first off, breathe.”

You did so. 

And then some more. 

“Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna go and get you another box of tests. Proper ones, not these things. And you’re gonna call Steve.”

“He’ll probably pass out. Why do you think I called you?”

Natasha laughed. “Just call him. I’ll be right back.”

And she was. 

Walking back inside, she called out and Steve called back. 

Three minutes later, you were all huddled in the bathroom waiting for the result to finally show. 

“What if it’s a false positive? If it’s positive-positive, will I be able to carry the baby?”

Crouching down in front of you, Steve held your hand. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Together. Okay?”

You took a breath and nodded. Leaning up, Steve kissed you and you kissed him back. 

You’d been having conversations about starting a family together for a while, but neither of you had started planning it just yet. Mostly because you hadn’t gotten around to it. And you didn’t know if you could even carry Steve’s kid. For all either of you knew, the serum would carry onto your child. 

Natasha looked at her phone. 

“It’s time.”

With a shaky breath, you and Steve stood. However, you paused as you reached for the test. 

“Count me down.”

Steve chuckled softly, counting back from three. 

After one, you turned it over. 

Pregnant 3+ weeks

You felt yourself smile and laugh a little before showing Steve. 

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

Taking the test from your hands, Steve took one look at it before the water-works started. 

Nine months later, inside the Avengers compound, Natasha was walking with you. 

“Once they started arguing over what the manual said, I made a break for it.”

Tony had surprised you and Steve at your home and after an hour, Steve had wrangled him in to help build the crib. It was the final thing that needed to be built and since Steve had banned you from lifting heavy things since you had elected to ignore your midwife and pushed the crib from the living room and into the nursery. You couldn’t help. 

“Have you decided on a name yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“Well, I might be biassed but Natasha is a really good name.”

You laughed a little. “I’ll think about it.”

Natasha smiled, holding onto your hand as she helped you down one of the narrower steps. 

However, halfway around the building, you stopped. 

“Everything okay?”

You nodded. “Just a bit of cramp.”

But it wasn’t just cramp. 

Barely a second later, you felt water trail down your leg until there was a louder splash against the tiles. 

“Oh, shit.”

You looked down. “Oh, my god.”

“Okay, okay. We’re okay.”

You nodded, taking hold of her hand as she walked you down the hall. 

“Steve’s old room is just down the hall. Once we get you there-”

“Call him.”

“I know, I will.”

“No, call him now. Please.”

Twenty minutes later, Tony’s car was kicking gravel up and onto the windshield. Steve ran inside, nearly taking out a few employees on the way. 

Almost fifteen hours later, a healthy baby girl was delivered. 

With her in Steve’s arms, bundled in a fresh baby blanket, everyone stood around the bed. 

“Only took you a decade.”

Steve chuckled, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his daughter. And neither could you. 

And for almost four years, it was blissful. 

As your daughter grew up, Steve told her stories and showed her pictures of the 40s. Even at the age of three, she seemed wise beyond her years. 

Then one night, everything changed. 

Recently, she hadn’t been sleeping. So, lay in bed with you whilst Steve was still at work, you told her a few bedtime stories but when Steve came in an hour or so later, he found her still awake. 

“You should be asleep,” he whispered to her. 

“I tried. Mommy fell asleep, though.”

Steve looked over and smiled. “Come on, let your mom sleep.”

Picking his daughter up, Steve carried her down the hall, leaving his jacket on the bed beside you. Making sure to close the door behind him, Steve started to talk to his daughter. 

Their conversation eventually turned to someone from Steve’s past. 

“Daddy, whose that?”

Steve looked at the photo. It was him and Bucky during his army days, though both were out of uniform and in civilian clothing. There weren't many pictures of Bucky in normal clothes. 

“That’s Uncle Buck.”

“But he’s not in green.”

Steve chuckled. “You’re right, he’s not. That was when we were in London. Pinky, one of the Howling Commandos, decided to take us on a tour of London.”

“Wow.” 

She was awe-struck. 

“Does he know I was born?”

Steve felt a pang in his chest. “Maybe. I don’t know if he can hear me, but I’ve told him.”

“Would he like me?”

Steve smiled. “He’d love you.”

Kissing her temple, Steve sat down in one of the chairs. “Try and get some sleep.”

Steve himself must have fallen asleep because next thing he knew, you were waking him up. Your daughter was still fast asleep, he carried her to bed before you led him down the hall and he collapsed onto your shared bed. 

The next time he woke up that morning, everything you both knew was about to change. 

Time Travel. 

There was a chance everyone could be brought back. 

And after a long conversation, one that was overheard by your daughter who had been playing in the back garden with the family dog, Steve accepted what he had to do. 

“You and Aunty Nat will have pictures again.”

Handing Steve a slightly mud scattered, crinkled, crayon drawing; your daughter had drawn a picture with everyone on it. 

Herself, you, the dog, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Sam with his wings, Clint with his bow and arrow, Thor and his hammer, Tony, Bruce…the stick men with different items, standing on a green field with a corner sun, continued on and on. 

It was that night you kissed Steve and he said what could have been his final goodbye to your daughter. She held onto him tightly, telling him she loved him. The only thing that carried him on his feet was the thought of going through what Scott was. 

In the time he got stuck, he thought his daughter was gone. 

Steve would have done anything to get his daughter back. 

And it didn’t take much for him to remember the pain that washed through and over him when he thought he lost you. 

Scott, like many others, had lost someone they loved. So had Steve. But he hadn’t lost you, though he thought he did. 

People needed their families back. 

And that’s what they got. 

At the cost of Tony’s life. 

After everything had settled, you drove as fast as you could to find Steve. And you found him far outside of the Avengers compound, crouched on the floor. 

“Steve!? Steve!”

Looking up, he spotted you amongst the grey smoke. A shining light in the darkness. 

Running as fast as you could, you eventually reached him. 

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know if you were okay. Are you okay?”

Steve’s voice was quiet. “He’s gone.”

“Gone? Who’s gone?”

Steve’s voice broke. “T-tony. Tony’s gone.”

“Oh, my god.”

As Steve hugged you, you held him as tightly as you could. He asked about your daughter. 

“She’s with my dad back home. She’s safe. She just needs a cuddle from her dad.”

Steve nodded. “I think I need one from her, too.”

Two weeks later, Steve brought Bucky and Sam home. 

“Honey, come here.” Your daughter ran to her dad’s side. “Sam, Buck. I’d like you to meet Aurora. Rory, honey, this is Sam and Bucky.”

Sam knelt down and shook her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, miss.”

Meanwhile, Bucky was in pure shock. Slowly, he knelt beside Sam and Bucky felt his life flash before his eyes. 

“Steve…she looks like your mom.”

As Rory studied Bucky, she decided to hug him. Sam smiled and so did you and Steve. And eventually Bucky hugged her back, frightened he might break her. 

“Can I show them my room?”

The consensus was yes and whilst Sam was dragged towards her bedroom, Rory shouting for you to follow, Bucky and Steve followed behind. 

Inside her room, her walls were covered in different pictures she’d drawn of the different stories Steve had told her. Of course, most of them were stick men, but the message was still clear. 

A week later, a funeral was held for Tony and the Stones had to be returned. 

Standing beside Bucky as Steve stood on the platform, Aurora stood and waited in between both of you. 

And in what was a few seconds later, Steve returned with Natasha by his side. 

Aurora gasped and bolted forward. 

“Aunty Nat!”

“Careful, kiddo.” Steve warned just before Aurora collided with her, but Natasha shook her head. 

“It’s okay.” 

Lifting her into her arms, she hugged her tightly.  

“You’re back.”

Natasha smiled. “Thanks to your dad.”

Looking at her dad, she smiled before hugging Natasha again. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Natasha nodded and carried Rory back towards you before everyone started running over. Meanwhile, you watched as Steve walked over to Sam. 

Ten minutes later, your daughter bolted from the crowd and towards her dad who was finally out of his protection suit. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Seeing you again, Steve kissed you before kissing Rory’s cheek. 

“Everything okay?”

Steve watched as Fury made his way over to Sam, and he smiled. 

“Everything’s good.”

Kissing you again, Steve smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For walking into that room when you did.” Steve told you. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to do something about it.”

You shook your head, looking from him to your daughter and back to him. “It happened when it was meant to.”

Steve smiled before he kissed you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Tony was right; Steve found the life with you he’d always wanted, even if it did take him a decade to do something about it. 

[glitter-stained]

I know some people argue that robin!Jason and Dick were never close post-crisis pre n52 because they only interacted a couple of times in canon and I understand that due to Dick living away when they first met they wouldn't be as close as the relationship Dick has with some of his other siblings, but I would also wish we would take in account that for all three of Jason's years, we have like 30 issues of Jason's run. That's exceedingly small. We have batman #416, we have that one moment in teen titans (i forgot the issue) of jason working with the team, and i think the ski trip we found out later about was included in the same canon*. (also, i do feel like even if you didn't know/like eachother before going on a ski trip together by the end of the ski trip this will have changed, and the picture definitely felt like they were getting along even though Jason's face in the picture was comically weird.) I'm not sure if there were other interactions shown or mentioned, but hey, 2-3/30ish isn't a bad score at all! If we're going 3/30, that's a whole tenth of Jason's robin era.

(And I'm talking about their relationship from Dick's pov since it's the one in question here but it's clear to me in Jason's run, even post-crisis, that Dick is often on his mind and important in his life (with a certain inferiority complex the little siblings of very cool people know well) with stuff like I think Batman #410 or Jason is Legends.)

And even more importantly, 30ish is extremely short for three damn years. That's ten issues per year! Do we assume that Jason was sitting on a shelf for the whole time he's not working with batman in the comics? Do we assume batman was sitting on a shelf twiddling his thumbs all that time during those three years he appears, either? It's perfectly logical to make the assumption that Bruce and Jason were still going out as goddamn Batman and Robin even when it's not shown on screen and having a relationship and interacting together even when it's not seen. In fact it's the most reasonable and logical assumption even. It's obvious Jason and Bruce's interactions extend past what was shown on screen so why wouldn't Dick and Jason? We know from Dick's relationship to his death that Dick cared about Jason. We know how much his death impacted him. Regardless of the (now retconned) terrible mess that was their relationship after Jason came back, they had a relationship, and it was good, and how deep it went is up to interpretation but it doesn't cheapen or lessen any of Dick's relationship with his other siblings to acknowledge that (like, seriously, even though some of them might view it as such in the story, dick's love isn't a prize that can only go to the one blorbo to win the competition. Personally I don't see Robin Jason being his favourite, and that's fine. Probably since, as I only have one sibling to be weird about, this is one aspect of Dick and Jason's relationship that I don't project onto them.)

There's a difference between saying "those are the only canon interactions between Dick and Robin!Jason that we know of" and saying "those are the only interactions that happened between Jason and Dick when Jason was Robin", especially if the next sentence is going to be something like "read a comic". I want to insist that I'm not saying that they have to have been super close. All I'm saying is I don't see, with the knowledge I personally have of canon and the retcons I choose to disregard (because of terrible writing), why considering that they were close wouldn't be canon compliant.

Leeway, nuance and up to interpretation stuff are fun and should matter for evaluating the level of canon compliance of your own headcanons, and I think it's especially important when trying to police other people's interpretation of canon: are you certain their interpretation is fanon and you're correcting it with the right canon, or is it a case of two headcanons clashing in the blank space between comic pages?

I just found it strange to never see it taken in account in the sometimes pretty emphatic takes I saw on the debate around their relationship, so those are my two cents on the matter. All this to say, [theatre joke in coming], when it comes to Dick and Jaybin, we could all stand to be more chill.

* btw i'm excluding dixon's nightwing year one from this conversation because I hate how it manages to shit on every one of the characters i've seen him write in it so violently and also fuck dixon, my jason comes from post-crisis not that crappy weirdo retcon.

[red-takami]

HEYY RED I LOVE YOUR CONTENT

i just came here bc i wanted to ask how bakugo was in your MHA DR

I'm glad you like it 🧌🖤

In 1a I mainly hang out with him, kirishima and a few others like 99% of my free time when I'm not doing something else like sleeping like the dead or fighting for my life somewhere off campus 🌚🙏🏽 me and bakugo had a very rough ish start if I'm being honest. People with big egos just piss me off more than anything else (cough cough because of my Cr dad cough) so I'm always just immediately irritated a bit when I meet people like that so it's nothing surprising. It's okay though because of course later on I moved past that and we ended up alright. When I decided to shift to mha, I basically knew nothing of it fr nor the people I was gunna be surrounded with, I was just focused and excited entirely for the whole quirk and hero shit yk.

People like bakugo, to me, are people that you will need to have patience and understanding if you want to befriend them (it feels weird talking about him like I'm giving advice to single mothers out there or sum about how to deal with an unruly kid 😭 I promise guys seriously he's not that bad at all he's a very good guy especially later on, which is why I said PATIENCE because again, he's a person that goes through a LOT in a short ass amount of time. Understanding and balancing that with your own standards/personality is key.)

My personal relationship with him is mainly just me tagging along as much as I can and eventually he just let it happen. Same thing with kirishima as well, like the reason why I even put up with his attitude was because I genuinely could see us becoming friends in the future and that's exactly what happened. Before I left, we were the closest we've been since I've been shifting to this Dr, I mainly say this because I started to withdraw from everything, school, our usual training and gym seshs, hanging out together or just being in each other's presence, I just stopped and that's what made me realize that he either got so used to it that he noticed this pretty much immediately, or he actually values our friendship (that was shady ik I'm only half joking)

Hes genuinely a good guy, again, like of course he's got his flaws but so does everyone else. Besides, we're all teenagers dude, of course we're gunna be messy. ESPECIALLY with everything happening like the hero course, and villains getting in the way, legit just making life harder for us than it already is yk.

.....his parents too? My god. I bout moved in and kicked him out of his own damn house honestly, they're both so lovely. Truthfully, they're such a beautiful family, their relationship is something I envy like hell😭. ANYWAYS

I feel like I don't talk/post about my friends back at UA so feel free to ask about any of them.

11:11 as I post this go shift yall

[gunbun]

Sea is always out here with the good questions. I'm a slow fic writer, but I'm a pretty quick RPer and I've developed a means of using brevity to get my point across.

To me, RP is just high speed improv, and by god I miss it, but I'm just kinda.... over all the hullaballoo. if I could just Do Whatever I wanted I'd RP with all of us and we just somehow accept that all our canons are simultaneous and we don't have to file off being the WOL and we're just all the WOL somehow, being chummy and doing stuff in-character and it's fun and we're all invested but we all recognize that we're adults and folks will get online with me After Supper and do something creative with me until it's time for bed. I wish I could find a situation where the "good stuff" wasn't like, saucy relationship RP that took place at 3AM and was treated like a Well You Had To Be There kind of situation. I wish my time would be respected. I wish my boundaries would be respected. Like if your best RP is at 3 AM just be honest with me and I'll find somewhere else to go. Don't string me along tee-heeing about these secrets that aren't really secrets but are being treated as such just because I committed the cardinal sin of needing to go to BED so I could get up and go to my JOB. And then the bullying. I've been on tumblr a long time and I have Seen Some Things. I've been burned way too many times and I'm scared to try again.

but all of y'all keep sayin' you think Tiona's cool and I'd like to perform that for yas, y'know?

This is one of my favourite oc/wol qotd posts to make because I do think it paves the way for positive interactions and the like—so!

If you could have one self-indulgent thing in your writing/roleplay/characterisations right now, what would it be and why? This could be something as simple as 'I wish I had the confidence to post x work' or 'I wish I could roleplay x and y but I would need [insert character type here] to make it work' or even 'I'd love to find x community but I'm not sure if it even exists'.

If you see someone's indulgence here and you can help them by either supporting or contributing to it, take the time to reach out! ✨You might just make a new friend or encourage someone to be more confident in their work.