#because i'm sick of seeing Steve hate

[geeky-politics-46]

Surgery Headcanon

How would my favorite Marvel men react to you having surgery. 

I'm getting my gallbladder taken out in a couple of weeks, it will be my first surgery ever, so this is 100% self-indulgent. That's part of why I've been so absent this year, I've had an organ rebelling.

Doctor Stephen Strange 

Will ask who your doctor is to see if he knows them. If not, he may send a referral to a trusted former colleague on your behalf. He's not letting you under the knife unless he knows you have a good surgeon.

Will tell you how routine the surgery is if you are starting to worry. Almost a bit blasé about your concerns, after all, bedside manner was never his strong suit as a surgeon. Plus, it really is a routine, laparoscopic procedure. Way less intricate & dangerous than neurosurgery.

1000% will try to micromanage everything once you're at the hospital prepping for or immediately out of surgery. He wants to see your chart. He wants to know what your most recent vitals are. Hell, he may have even asked if he can observe the surgery. Partly, it's him being overprotective, partly it's because he misses being a doctor.

Definitely breaking into the doctor's lounge for the good coffee, not the instant crap in the cafeteria.

After you are home, he will be vigilant about making sure you take your pain meds & will check your incisions to make sure everything is healing well. You are in very safe, if slightly neurotic hands.

Secretly, or not so secretly, enjoying getting to play doctor again to take care of you. Looking forward to when you are well enough that you can play doctor and patient the really fun way.

Bucky Barnes 

May actually be a bigger mess than you are. Thanks to Hydra, medical anything makes his anxiety shoot through the roof. Now piled on top of that, he feels out of control & helpless to make you feel better.

Would have to be physically dragged out of your hospital room, so the hospital staff just lets the whole “visitors hours” thing slide.

The second you wake up, he is by your side asking if you need anything. Probably didn't sleep or even sit down the entire time you were in surgery.

If you even make an odd face, he's asking if you are in pain, and he has become a huge pain in the ass for your nurses. 

May have thought about threatening your surgeon about if something went wrong.

Either guard dog mode, or he completely shuts down. There is no in between. 

Afraid he's going to break you while you are recovering. Offers to sleep on the floor or on the couch just in case. Doesn't want to let you out of his sight until you are healed. 

Steve Rogers

Tells you over and over how everything will be okay and that you are in good hands.

May tell you stories about how much hospitals and medical stuff has improved since he was so sick before the serum.

Reads up on your surgery and your doctors. He wants to understand as much as he can about what is going on. He probably has more questions for the doctor than you do.

Puts on a brave face for you but secretly will be a little nervous. He hates seeing you sick or in pain, and he can't help but worry a little bit.

Will respect hospital rules but will stay up until the very last minute of visiting hours are over. Knows the names of every nurse and doctor treating you. 

Definitely has flowers or a stuffed bear for you as soon as you wake up from surgery. 

Dotes on your every need once you are home and watches you like a hawk. The first few days, he doesn't even let you go to the bathroom by yourself. You can't get away with shortcutting your recovery under his eye. 

Sam Wilson

Buys you a cute, silly stuffed version of whatever you are having surgery on to make you laugh. See my new stuffed sad gallbladder plush as reference here.

All the nurses love him, and he likes to crack jokes with all the staff. Offers to help with anything he can but mostly tries to stay out of their way.

Trying to make you smile all the way until they wheel you to the OR. He doesn't want you to be scared or nervous. 

Like Steve, he will put on a brave face but will be nervous once you are in surgery. Lots of pacing back & forth. Lots of trips to the coffee machine.

Takes care of you once you are home but not quite as mother hen as Steve. Will let you judge what is best for you, but will 100% call you out if he sees you doing something the doctor told you not to.

Will also rat you out to your doctor if you don’t follow their instructions. He doesn't want to snitch, but he'd also rather not be the one to scold you.

Loki

Doesn't like the idea of someone operating on you. Trained surgeon or not, they are still just a simple Midgardian.

Doesn't like the hospital one bit. Comments on the color and decor, even the hideous hospital gown you have to wear. Partly to make you laugh, partly because it was all truly hideous.

If your surgeon even hesitates on a question you ask, Loki will assume they aren't the best and demand another doctor. You may have to talk him down a bit. He's a prince, after all, and he wants to make sure you are in the best hands possible.

The whole thing seems a bit barbaric to him. He would much have preferred using magic or Asgardian ways to heal you, but alas when on Midgard. 

Secretly terrified something will happen to you, but would never tell you he's worried. Doesn't like that he can't do anything to help you.

Is not very used to taking care of people, and as royalty, he's the one used to being waited on, but he will try his best to do whatever you need him to do.

Will probably mostly ignore instructions from the doctor so you are in charge of that part of your care, but he will beg to accelerate your healing with his magic if he can.

Eddie Brock & Venom

Venom brings you chocolates, which he then eats after you tell him he can, and says not to worry because if the doctors don't take proper care of you he will bite off their heads and eat their brains.

Eddie is nervous but trying to be brave, so you won't be scared. It doesn't help that Venom keeps telling Eddie not to make you nervous, which then, in turn, makes him nervous. He will try to make jokes and keep you entertained however he can.  

Eddie and Venom try not to argue while they wait for you to get done with surgery. The last thing you need is to wake up and find out that they ended up in the psych ward for talking to/arguing with themselves in the waiting room. They are on their best behavior.

Both of them try to wait on you hand and foot after you get home. You've had to eat several well-meaning but truly gross breakfasts in bed so as not to disappoint either of them. They mean so well, but neither of them can cook beyond tater tots.

You have woken up to Venom staring at you because “one of us has to watch you at all times until you are recovered”. He took that 100% seriously. He has also stuck tendrils under the bathroom door like cat paws.

One great thing about Venom is the fact that thanks to his tendrils, he can literally get anything you need from around the apartment in seconds without you or Eddie having to get up. This makes him one of the best nurses ever. All you have to do is hint that you want something and boom, it's there.

[bitofanupsidedowner]

(GA) ST takes i'm sick of in no particular order, but i get meaner as the list goes on

will's haircut is bad: it's era appropriate and he's canonically good-looking. eat a bag of eggs, emmett

will is over-sensitive: he's sensitive. he is not OVER sensitive. he's traumatized. if you see sensitivity as this inherently negative trait, congratulations! you believe the thing that continues to make the world a shitty and dangerous place.

will touches his neck too much: get a new joke stop getting them off reddit. he touches his neck because it's easier than having his hair raise every time and because, you know, IT FEELS WEIRD. you'd touch your neck too if it felt like a spider was crawling on it. or like someone was breathing down it waiting to kill you and all your friends. it's called... television. sometimes you need a way to know what the character is feeling. HE HAS TRAUMA. can we let this kid do ANYTHING??

will cries too much: he only cries when he's actively being traumatized, he's very sad, or someone's forcing him to relive his trauma for plot reasons. those are normal reasons to cry, you emotionally repressed weasel. you'd probably cry more. crying less would be a sign something is wrong with your ability to process what's happening and how you feel about it. it's NORMAL to cry when you're sad. in fact, that's HEALTHY. we cry when we are sad for a reason. go watch inside out if you need this spoonfed to you like you're a child. he IS the male character to cry the most, but el is actually the one who cries the most most. but i bet you're okay with it because she's a girl and you think only girls have the ability to feel things the normal way. dumbass.

stranger things should've been an anthology / ended after season one/only season one was good/every other season sucks and isn't scary: stop watching it after season one then genius!! go into the real world! see if people like you more there. let me know <3 i'm guessing no?

bylers only ship byler because it's gay and we're mindless: almost every byler ships lumax and/or jopper and/or jancy. lumax would eat milkvan for breakfast lunch and dinner but there just isn't enough meat on them bones. if anything happens to max or lucas it's not canon

bylers hate el: bylers love el more than any milkvan loves el. el deserves better than who mike is when he's with her. and she deserves to be more than who she pretends to be when she's with mike.

billy isn't racist/billy is better than jason carver: you're stupid and i'm not explaining this. he beats children you pathetic simp. just say you want to have sex with dacre montgomery because that is the entirety of his defense and you know it

byler would be unrealistic because gay people didn't exist in the 80s: demorgon. comes. out. the walls. you absolute. fucking. loser.

byler would be fanservice / make stranger things woke: assuming that stranger things has ever been for you is a mistake you made because everything is for you. this isn't for you.

bylers just read into things: uh huh because certainly nobody's ever put any deeper thought or creativity into the art they poured their heart and soul into, right? it's not like the duffers are regularly criticized for being overly referential and expecting people to look deeper into things or anything. the curtains are blue because all curtains are blue. now shut up about the curtains.

you just want it to be gay!: you just want it to be straight. let's talk about that.

mike actually dislikes will/he's embarrassed for him/pities him: you are playing raquetball with raisins. you look ridiculous and we are all laughing at you.

steve harrington is so mom-coded! eddie would support will and make him feel like it's good to be a freak! billy is secretly soft! steve actually --): oh, so close! jonathan byers. you're thinking of jonathan byers.

[occamstfs]

Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home. 

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with  him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew: 

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it. 

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass! 

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.  

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

[slasherslittlesimp]

Cursed (Avengers X Reader)

Series Masterlist

Part Seven

You walk hand in hand with Wanda to the dining room where the others have gathered for dinner. Your nerves grow with each step but you try your best to remain calm and keep your face from showing just how scared you are. You know the chances of them hating you are slim yet after so long of being met with nothing but violence and hatred it's almost impossible to expect anything else.

Rounding the corner, you're met with silence as the group composed of mostly strangers stares at you. You subconsciously move closer to Wanda, seeking out her comfort. Back at Hydra you used to have a main caretaker that you would latch onto but he disappeared after less than a year. Now you find yourself acting the same way with a woman you just met just because she offered to be there for you.

Steve clears his throat, shooting you a reassuring smile after glaring at the others at the table as if mentally scolding them. Your eyes flicker over the familiar faces first as Wanda leads you to the table and unfortunately you find that the two open seats are next to people you haven't seen yet. You try not to panic as Wanda has you sit down next to the one with dyed hair while she sits next to a man who didn't look human.

"Do not worry, маленькая кукла. He is my brother Pietro. I promise you can trust him." Her voice is soft as she speaks barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear her. You barely know her, but for some reason you feel as if you can trust her with your life. So when she tells you that you can trust her brother, you believe her.

"It was Clint's turn to make dinner so I hope you like spaghetti, kid." Tony chirps up from his spot at the end of the table. Your gaze flickers to him as he holds up his fork that has noodles swirled around it, as if showing you how to eat the meal. You appreciate the gesture since you more than likely would've made a fool out of yourself otherwise.

You take a second to watch a few others to see the way they eat the food before attempting it yourself. It's unsurprising that it takes you more than one try before you successfully manage to twirl the saucy noodles around your fork. Pausing, you mentally prepare yourself to eat not only a new food but also your first real meal. You're so lost in your own thoughts that you fail to notice everyone watching you as you finally take your first bite.

In all honesty, the meal is basic and lackluster but to you it tastes like heaven. Your first warm meal. Your first time eating with other people. Your first time feeling safe. It's almost overwhelming but you manage to keep from showing your growing emotions as you focus entirely on eating. Seeing as it's your first time eating real food, it's not that shocking that you barely manage to clear half of your plate before you start to feel a bit sick.

"Did you enjoy the food?" Wanda questions you, a small smile on her lips. You nod, wanting to smile in return to make the answer more convincing but your lips refuse to move from their neutral state. "I'm glad. Perhaps next time it's my turn to cook you can help me. Cooking is a great way to take your mind off of things."

"Wanda is an excellent cook." Her brother Pietro finally talks which makes you stiffen a bit. If he noticed he doesn't show it. "She is the perfect person to learn from. You will be master chef in no time."

Wanda seems embarrassed of her brothers praise as her cheeks flush in color. Unfortunately before anything else can be said, a strange robotic voice echoes throughout the room. You know that it's Friday, the AI that had been mentioned but suddenly hearing it still makes you jump a bit.

"Sir, Director Fury is here. He is waiting for you in conference room C."

"Well, that's my que." Tony stands up as he claps his hands together. You all watch as he exits the room and you turn to Wanda with a questioning look.

"Director Fury is basically the boss. He's in charge of missions and such." She places her hand on your shoulder. "If you're finished with dinner, why don't we go to the common room and watch a movie?"

You agree with her despite having no real idea what a movie is. The two of you head into a different room filled with couches and chairs, a few of the others following after you. Wanda leads you over to a two person couch, pulling you to sit down beside her. 

Glancing around the room, you look at who else decided to join in. Steve sits in a chair by himself, paper in hand as he writes something down. Natasha and Clint sit down on another two seater, sharing a bowl filled with something that smells quite good. Pietro sits on the floor in front of his sister, leaning back against her legs. Everyone else is spread out randomly besides Bruce and Tony who are busy with other things.

The group spends some time arguing over what type of movie to watch. They're all calling out different words but you have no idea what's going on. None of them can seem to agree so in the end they tell Friday to play something random. 

Despite it being potentially your first movie ever, you don't pay much attention to it. Instead you focus on the others, watching their reactions to what's happening on the screen. Every now and then they'll laugh at something said or done or they'll cheer when there's a fight scene. To you, they seem a lot more interesting than whatever movie is playing. 

Out of nowhere the movie pauses, making Clint boo as he throws a handful of small puffed food at the screen. Friday apologizes for stopping the movie before explaining why she did. "Mr. Stark has requested that (Y/N) joins him in conference room C."

Wanda stands up, taking your hand in hers as she pulls you from the couch. You forgot that your name is apparently (Y/N) so you hadn't realized they were talking about you. The others wish you luck as you're dragged from the room as Wanda takes you to where you need to go. You have no idea why you're being summoned but you can only hope that it's nothing bad.

Taglist: @desiree-lee @seventeen-x @svtbpbts @that-b-word-lol @keshet2k @cl0u-dy @randoes-world @nynxtea @cinnamoroll-things @emily2003alzaga @cookiemonstermusic258 @qardasngan @ashhlsstuff @worthless-wordvomit @anonymoustext @strawberryasmine

[hurtspideyparker]

Part 2 of Mundane Avengers Headcanons

Part 1

- Clint gets paper cuts way too often and is oddly defensive about it. "Oh no is that a paper cut—" "YES GODAMMIT." "..."

- Steve gets hangry. It is obvious to everyone but him. He will deny the accusation and eat the protein bar being handed to him anyways (he feels immediately better)

- Natasha likes to snack on chips, and will buy whatever random flavour she can find. Garlic bread? Okay. Thanksgiving dinner? Sure thing. Ghost pepper? Most definitely, especially when Clint steals a handful without paying attention

- Tony likes to have Floor Time™ where he will just lie on the floor if he gets tired or overwhelmed. It happens a lot in the kitchen because he gets decision fatigue. Bruce and Nat ignore him, Steve always asks if he's alright, and Clint just lies down with him

- Bruce pretends not to hear when Tony is struggling in the lab or when his friends are fighting because he will Keep His Peace at all costs ✌️

- Clint's favourite song is Wonderwall and when Tony finds out he clowns him for it for two months straight (until Thor visits and wants to hear the song and becomes obsessed, playing it constantly when he's with them much to Clint's amusement and Tony's torture)

- Bucky hogs the blanket every movie night. Doesn't matter how early they get there he will find a way to get to it first or steal it

- If Natasha spends a while doing her hair and there's a piece that won't cooperate she will simply cut it off (like a hair sticking out of a braid). What it looks like unstyled is none of her business 

- Peter crawls up stairs when he's alone—on all fours, running up them like a bear. (One time Clint is going down and sees Peter crawling full speed up at him and screams so loud Steve thinks a little girl is in danger and comes rushing to the rescue)

- Natasha and Tony watch Jeopardy together and get incredibly competitive

- Thor will hug everyone goodbye, including people he just met and complete strangers. "I'm sure it would have been nice to know you! :D". It takes a reallllly long time 

- Bruce is the king of Irish goodbyes (leaving without letting anyone know)

- Steve checks himself out in mirrored surfaces but NEVER if someone can see him do it. He is not afraid to gaslight if caught

- Clint bakes quite a bit, and everyone is thrown off by it. "I don't like to bake, I like to eat homemade cookies. There's a difference."

- Rhodey is actually a total menace but because he's a military guy and always compared to Tony he seems tame

- Sam sings in the shower every time. Doesn't matter if he's in a hotel, sharing, at home. It's every single time

- Peter says things like 'awesome' 'sick' 'epic' 'cool' constantly and about practically everything. butterfly on windowsill, extra chicken nugget in meal, giant aircraft on front lawn—all epic

- Bucky hates pop radio. For this reason you will never catch him in a mall or a club

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Where the Wild Things Are pop-up event.

i want you to love me like my parrot does, honey

Where the Wild Things Are Pop-Up | Word Count: 3,000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Fade to Black Sex | POV: Eddie | Relationship(s): Steddie, Eddie & Gareth | Tags: Modern AU, Flirty Flirting, Mutual Attraction, Getting Together, Animal Shelter Worker Steve Harrington, Exotic Animal Foster Eddie Munson, Annoyed Roommate Gareth Jones

Also on ao3.

Eddie looks down at the phone in his hand, and turns off the running water in the bathroom sink he'd used to muffle his conversation. If you have to hide it, you're doing something wrong. That's what Uncle Wayne always said. 

But, he's doing it anyway.

Heading towards the door, he casually reaches to get his leather jacket. Maybe Gareth won't notice. Maybe he can slink out of here unnotic—

"Where are you going? Where are you going?" 

Fuck. Jimmy Buffett the goddamn parrot is a misses-nothing tattletale.

Gareth turns, looking, "Hey, Jim's right. Where are you going?"

"Just, you know, out."

"Eddie."

"Google, play Master of Puppets," Jimmy Buffett demands, and the bluetooth speaker fires up. Plays the opening riff, and then Jimmy asks all over again. Head bobbing back and forth the entire time. He only wants the intro, over and over. 

"Great," Gareth says, "just great, Ed. This is a fun loop to be in."

"Hey, we got him over the M-A-R-G-A-R-," he pauses, trailing off.

"No, no, keep going," Gareth goads.

"I-T-A-V-I-L-L-E obsession," Eddie finishes. There's no way in hell he's saying that word out loud. "This is an improvement and you know it."

"Unplugging the damn thing, not giving a bird the option of dictating our lives would be an improvement too, and yet."

"Where are you going?" the grooving parrot asks again, Master of Puppets blaring.

"Good question, Jimmy," Gareth concurs. 

"The shelter."

That lights a fire under Gareth's ass, and he's up off the couch. 

"Eddie, no, we don't have room for anything else!" Gareth snaps, waving his hands around the living room that's already full of cages, aquariums and other various habitats.

"But Steve called," Eddie says, and Gareth huffs out a breath of annoyance. 

"Steve's taking advantage," Gareth insists, and Eddie knows that's not true. It's just not easy to find someone qualified to foster all the weird and exotic animals. "Goodie won't even come over here anymore, you know. Wait. Go ahead. Get something else. Alligator? Komodo Dragon? Anaconda?"

Eddie laughs. Goodie hates to be in the same room as the snakes, but if Eddie covers their habits, Goodie can sometimes pretend they aren't there. Sometimes.

"What are you getting this time?" Gareth asks, and then waves his hands around, "No. Wait. Don't tell me. I'll be surprised."

Oh, and surprised he'll be. 

Mainly because Eddie doesn't even know. Steve just called, said he had something Eddie needed to see, and that was all the info Eddie needed.

Eddie snags Gareth around the neck, shaking him around in a rough thank you hug.

"If Jimmy keeps it up longer than thirty minutes, you can unplug the speakers, okay?"

"How generous," Gareth sasses, but crashes back onto the couch, "I'm really fucking sick of this, you asshole."

He'll live. He always does.

But, well. Eddie can't resist. He pokes his head back in the door, and croons, "Strummin' my six string, on my front porch swing."

Jimmy Buffett squawks and flaps his wings.

"Google, play Margaritaville," he demands, Master of Puppets forgotten. If looks could kill, Eddie'd be dead. Gareth throws up his middle fingers, both of them, before sliding his noise-cancelling headphones over his ears. 

Eddie cackles as he closes the door, leaving Gareth in Margaritaville hell.

When Eddie pulls up at the rescue, Steve's out front with a family, rolling around in the lush, green grass as he's introducing a dog that's wagging the shit out of its tail, thrilled to be out of the dog run. 

Fair enough. Eddie'd be thrilled if he was getting that kind of attention from Steve, too. 

Steve gets animals adopted, and it's pretty cool to watch in action. Dogs, Steve can find homes fairly easily. Same with cats. Eddie swears half the time the adopters are turning up just to see Steve. He features heavily on all their social media, and has an amazing track record for facilitating successful adoptions.

He's an animal whisperer, through and through. So, basically catnip to Eddie.

Unfortunately, he's made the shelter very popular, and as a consequence other animals have been dropped off that are far less easy to adopt out.

Those are the critters that dictate calls to Eddie.

At least they aren't being released into the wild, which is a real goddamn problem. If they end up with Steve, they've got a chance.

Steve sees him, and hands the leash of the overly happy pup over to Robin. Eddie gives her a wave, and then shoves his hands in his pockets as Steve approaches, grinning.

"Hey, man. Thanks for coming," Steve says, slinging his arm around Eddie's shoulders, walking him towards the shelter. "It's been a while."

And it has been a few months. There's no rhyme or reason to when they might get something they can't take care of at the shelter. But when they call, Eddie gets to see Steve and nurse his pathetic crush that's been building over the past two years.

Eddie hates that this is the biggest reason he keeps saying yes. Getting to be near Steve, feeling helpful, and yes, all the friendly touches. He definitely doesn't hate those.

Steve lets go to open the door, and leads Eddie through the maze of the place. Past all the run-of-the-mill animals, to the dungeon. At least, that's what Eddie calls it.

In a too small saltwater tank, is an octopus. 

"Oh hell no," Eddie laughs, "you want me to be the jailer for that brilliant escape artist?"

Steve giggles, "Hence the rocks on the lid. This is Houdini. We know what she can do. Apparently, she kept breaking into all the tanks near her, eating the inhabitants, then slinking back into her own tank like nothing had happened. It was a real aquatic mystery, until they set up a camera and caught her in the act."

Eddie grins, and looks at her, watching her flash, changing colors and then back again, "Smart little asshole. You're resourceful, ain't you, honey?" Eddie asks her, watching as she moves through the water.

"You'll take her?" Steve asks, looking hopeful.

"Of course," Eddie answers, "you'll just have to let me get something set up for her. I have a saltwater tank cycled that'll be big enough, which is lucky. I'm sure you don't want to keep her here for three months. But I'll need to do some shuffling, and reinforcing. They're like cats. Liquids that cannot be contained."

Steve laughs. 

"How old is she?" Eddie asks, because they don't live long, as sad as that is. He wants to be prepared. She's definitely not a long term commitment, not like Irv the tortoise, or Jimmy the parrot or Heqet the African clawed frog. Those are decades long commitments, if the right home never comes along. 

Steve isn't sure, which isn't uncommon for the things that they sometimes just find dropped off on their front step.

At least Houdini has some backstory. That's not always a given.

Gareth comes home, still pissy. Margaritaville isn't playing, so that's a plus. Eddie prepared for this, though. Bribes work on Gareth.

"There's booze in the blender," he teases, at least this time out of Jimmy's earshot.

"Okay, I might forgive you. Show me what you've got first. Direwolf? Slimer? Harry from the Hendersons?"

Eddie laughs, "I don't have her yet. It's an octopus."

"Oh. That's not so bad," Gareth says, salting the rim, then pouring himself a margarita that Eddie was heavy handed with the good tequila in as an apology.

"We have to move Pennywise and pals," Eddie admits, and Gareth groans. He hates fish tank business. 

"We can do it," he reassures, "eat a taco. You'll feel better."

Eddie stopped and picked up the tacos they both like, and they sit and eat, splitting the pitcher of margaritas until they're both tipsy.

"I just," Gareth says, "I don't mind the animals. But women don't want to come here."

Eddie can't be mad at him for telling the truth. He knows. Men don't want to come here either.

"Goodie said I could move in with him," Gareth says, and Eddie feels his stomach drop, "for a price."

"You'll kill each other," Eddie says.

"I know," Gareth answers, "I'm not going anywhere. But this house is a real cockblock."

"Tell me about it," Eddie sighs, "I'm not doing any better."

He knows Gareth knows that, too. But these animals don't have anywhere else to go. He doesn't want them destroyed just because their previous owners didn't take good care of them.

"At least you have Steve," Gareth says, poking at him over his crush.

"I wish," Eddie says. 

He wants Steve, but that's a pipe dream. 

Eddie rolls over, blinking. Trying to reorient. He picks up his phone, and peers at the screen. The security camera notification woke him up. David is sitting on the back patio. Waiting.

So, Eddie crawls out of bed. Throws on a t-shirt over his boxers, sliding on shoes. 

Pulling open the sliding glass door, he asks, "Hey, buddy, where you been? It's been a few days, let me get you some food," Eddie tells the plump raccoon and heads back to the kitchen to make peanut butter sandwiches, and fetch fresh water as well as some other snacks. He isn't technically Eddie's, but he can't stand to see any creature go hungry. 

So, fed he'll be. 

Even if he shows up at three in the goddamn morning.

A few days later Eddie calls to let Steve know his saltwater tank is ready that Gareth nearly killed him for trying to set up the first time. Too much chemistry.

"Want me to deliver her?" Steve asks, and Eddie pauses. Steve wants to come to his house? He's never been to his house before. Eddie comes to him. That's the deal. Nobody wants to come here.

"I mean, if you want, but if you don't have time, I can make my roommate come with me to come get her," Eddie offers.

Steve insists, so Eddie starts to tell him his address, before he realizes Steve knows. It's on every application, every foster agreement he's ever signed.

"But you already know that," Eddie laughs.

"I do," Steve answers, "but it's less creepy this way."

Two hours later, Steve's on his doorstep with Houdini. They start the process to get her drip acclimated into the bigger tank.

"Wow. This is," Steve says, and Eddie can see him looking all over the room and the rest of the sentence goes unsaid. It's a lot to take in. Aquariums, cages, habitats all over the place. Steve had to know. He's the one that keeps calling Eddie to pick up these exotic and hard to place animals. 

"Pretty, pretty," Jimmy Buffett coos, dancing in his cage, looking at Steve.

Well, he's not wrong. Just embarrassing Eddie for fun, undoubtedly. Like an unruly five-year-old.

"C'mere, dingus," he mimics, and Steve tosses back his head and laughs. 

"He sounds just like Robin," Steve says, and approaches her cage, "I can believe you remember me. Hi, Jimmy."

"Hi, Jimmy," the bird mimics back, "Get me a beer."

"No beer. Want a full tour?" Eddie offers Steve. Just as well show him all the crazy. 

And he does, guiding Steve room-to-room.

When he sees the large enclosure in the corner of the spare bedroom, he stops, "Holy shit."

It's kinda crazy. Half water, half land, home to the dwarf caiman Steve though was a baby alligator when it was dumped on their step. 

Eddie couldn't house an alligator. He doesn't have the space, or experience. But a dwarf caiman? Totally doable, after a small construction project that Gareth, Jeff and Goodie bitched about the entire time.

Goodie hates her, but she does like to grumble and hiss, especially at him.

"She's a bitch," Eddie says with affection, but he's sure he's stuck with her for the rest of her life. Which is fine. He wants to find nearly everything that turns up here a good fit for a permanent home, elsewhere. That doesn't always work out. 

Most, if not all of them, were pets somebody got in over their head with. It's sad.

Steve doesn't seem scared, or disgusted, like a lot of people. Not even annoyed, like Gareth. Who honestly rolls with it better than most. He's not scared, at least. Eddie knows this funhouse of creatures is why he's single. Like, he can hookup with a guy here and there, but as soon as they get to the point that he needs to bring him home, shit goes south, quick. Nobody wants to sleep in a room with a frog singing, or watch TV with a chatty beach bum parrot.

He can't have everything, he's chosen this, and that's okay. 

Steve is looking in each enclosure, and then he comes up to one of the enclosures in Eddie's bedroom, peering down inside, "Oh, wow. Hi, there, I don't believe I know you."

Eddie grins, looking down into the tortoise enclosure, "That's Irv. He was my grandpa's. My first experience with reptiles. I inherited him when my Uncle Wayne declined the opportunity to raise another beast," Eddie says with all the affection in the world. Wayne raised him. A tortoise, though? Not for him.

Steve laughs, and Eddie smiles at him.

"How old?" Steve asks.

"Forty-ish?" Eddie answers. Older than Eddie, definitely, but he's not a hundred percent for sure. He's just been able to trace photos back that far, at least.

"Amazing," Steve says, and Eddie's even more smitten. Steve doesn't seem grossed out by anything he's been confronted with so far in this house. Eddie shouldn't be surprised. He knows how much time Steve puts in at the shelter, Eddie just assumed he preferred the fuzzy, domesticated pets. Most people do.

Houdini is ready to be released into the bigger tank, and she immediately inks. It's expected. Eddie skims it out of the water, not wanting her to suffocate, and then secures the heavy lid. Flipping the new latches. She's sure pretty. 

Steve meanders back towards the front door, and Eddie is sorry to see him go.

"Stop by again, if you want to visit. I'm sure Jimmy would be thrilled to lay eyes on you," and if on command, Jimmy gives a wolf whistle. They both laugh, "See?"

Then, Steve steps out onto the front porch, seems to change his mind, and steps back inside, "Okay. If I'm off-base, ignore me," Steve says, and Eddie feels the blood rushing to his cheeks.

No way.

"But. Would you maybe want to go out sometime?" Steve asks, and he looks so shy. Steve's never looked shy.

"Yes," Eddie says, taking a step closer, "fuck. Yes. Of course."

And Steve laughs, seemingly relieved. Eddie can't believe this guy wants to go on a date with him, especially after seeing his little shop of horrors. 

"Thank god," Steve says, "I've felt the vibes. I thought? But I didn't want to scare off my best shelter ally if I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong," Eddie reassures, and Steve smiles, big and bright. Eddie wants to lock this down. "Tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night," Steve agrees.

Drinks, dinner and now Steve's standing in Eddie's bedroom shedding his shirt. 

"Pretty, pretty," Eddie says, mimicking the parrot, and Steve giggles.

Then he drops his jeans, and scoots up Eddie's bed.

Eddie just stares. He's gorgeous, and so fucking confident that Eddie's going crazy. He wants him, he needs him, fuck, maybe he loves him.

He damn well wants to find out if this could be something. Something great, maybe.

So, he pulls his own clothes off, and then crawls on top of Steve, pressing him back into the sheets.

After, they lay shoulder-to-shoulder, Heqet singing a mechanical underwater buzzing sound.

"That's soothing," Steve says, and yeah. Eddie's heart is gone.

Steve bolts upright, startled, and Eddie lays a hand on his back, "Sorry. It's okay. I'll be back. Another animal to feed."

But Steve slides out of bed behind him, and Eddie is so goddamn smitten by this man. 

"What is it?" Steve questions.

"David. My big dirty raccoon," Eddie explains, and doles out the snacky snacks he brought out to the patio.

Steve giggles, quoting, "Eww, David."

And Eddie grins. Exactly. Steve gets the reference, and Eddie's fucking enamored with this man that crawled out of his bed in the middle of the night to watch a raccoon wash his finger sandwiches in water.

Steve hugs him from behind, chin on his shoulder, and Eddie's so goddamn happy.

In the morning, Steve helps him feed and tend to all the different animals.

"Gareth's gonna be jealous," Eddie teases, "he can't find a woman to come back here to feed his snake."

Steve snorts, then makes a thinking face, looking over at Eddie, "You know. I actually know someone at the shelter. Dr. Dawlsen."

"Robin?" Eddie asks.

Steve cackles, making Jimmy squawk, "No. She's a lesbian. And not a vet."

"Oh. That all tracks," Eddie says, and Steve just grins.

Gareth comes out of his room, sees Steve, and rolls his eyes. 

"Hey!" Steve demands, and Gareth looks at him. Steve snaps a couple pictures on his phone. 

"What the fuck was that?" Gareth asks.

"Smile. He thinks he might have a lady doctor to set you up with that wouldn't run screaming from our menagerie."

"Vet, not gyno," Steve clarifies. 

"Don't care. Carry on," Gareth says, preening like he's the fancy bird in the room.

Then, Steve's gotta go, "Well, I had fun. Let's do it again. And again."

Hell fucking yes. 

"You're not gonna run for the hills?" Eddie teases, slinging his arms around Steve's neck, pressing their lips together again.

"Not a chance," Steve answers, nuzzling into Eddie's neck, "I like your wild kingdom. Kindness towards animals? Especially these animals? Such a turn on."

When Steve pulls back, Eddie grins, pulling his hair over his mouth. 

"Tonight?" Steve asks.

And Eddie nods. Tonight. Absolutely.

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the Where the Wild Things Are prompt!

Notes: Title is a play on the lyrics from the Jimmy Buffett song Like My Dog, and obviously his Margaritaville played a role in the fic itself.

[runninriot]

your heart's safe with me

written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles Valentine's Day pop-up event and @steddiebingo main card fill for the prompt pre-relationship

rated: T | wc: 1.000 | tags: pre steddie, pining, love confessions, implied friends to lovers

   "If I have to see one more couple kissing, I'm gonna be sick. Can they just not? I'm already miserable, don't need them to rub it in like that," Steve groans and Eddie gets it; it's hard being single on Valentine's day.

That is, if you're name is Steve Harrington. Self-proclaimed former ladies’ man, who never really had a problem scoring a date until he lost his crown when he climbed off his high horse and became part of the loveless losers club Eddie's been a member of all his life.

   "Can't even go to Robin's for our annual Fuck Valentine's date because she's seeing her new girlfriend tonight. I mean, I love that for her but- god, it sucks being alone."

   "You do know who you're talking to, right?"

Steve turns to look at him, confusion making way for understanding.

   "Oh, uh, sorry."

   "You should be. I've never had a date on Valentine's day. Or ever, for that matter. But do you see me complaining? No. So suck it up, man. You'll find the right one. Maybe not today but- they're out there somewhere."

Eddie hates to even think about it but there’s no denying the fact that one day, he'll have to come to terms with Steve being in a relationship with someone that isn't him. It sucks, but that's just how things are.

   "You could come to my place after work," Eddie offers before thinking it through. "We can watch some cheesy romcom. You can complain about how unrealistic it is and I can make fun of you for crying over the happy ending."

This makes Steve laugh and Eddie takes it as a win; he loves making Steve laugh, loves the sound of it.

   "So that's a yes?"

After their shift, they separate ways only for Steve to make a detour home because he complained about needing to get out of his smelly work clothes and take a shower.

Eddie would've offered his shower and his clothes for Steve to change into but it’s better that way – better not to give his mind any more reason to create fantasies he definitely shouldn't have.

So, he uses the time to freshen up and clean up some of the bits and bobs scattered around his apartment. It's not messy, not really. Nothing like Wayne had augured when Eddie moved out to live on his own. It's more like organised chaos but because it's Steve coming over, Eddie puts a little more effort in it than he usually would.

An hour later, Steve finally arrives.

   "For how long it took you to get changed, I thought you'd be dressed up a lot nicer for me," Eddie jokes when he opens the door and finds Steve standing there in comfy sweats and hoodie, hair tousled but still unfairly good looking.

   "Sorry. Robin called because she was freaking out about her date, so I had to calm her down. You know how she gets when she's nervous." Steve shakes his head and sighs, smiling fondly, "But I stopped at the pizza place you like. Brought your favourite, as an apology."

His smile turns from soft to cheeky and Eddie happily takes the large box handed to him.

   "I could kiss you right now."

Eddie could kiss him always, but Steve doesn't need to know.

They get comfortable in the small but cosy living room, eating while watching the movie Steve chose - something about best friends who are obviously meant to be but too oblivious to realise it. Eddie's not really paying attention, just enjoys Steve's presence. Letting his eyes linger on the man beside him every now and then, smiling whenever Steve smiles, counting the moles on his face and neck, wishing he could kiss every single one of them. It's stupid, maybe even risky to gawk so openly, but Steve doesn't notice - or at least he doesn't call him out on it.

   "This is so stupid," Steve says and Eddie laughs because he's been waiting for it.

   "How do they not know? I mean- it's clear as day that he's into her. How can she keep looking for love when it's right there?"

   "Sometimes you just don't see what's right in front of you, I guess." Eddie swallows hard; he knows too well what it's like not to be seen.

   "Okay, sure. But then why doesn't he just- tell her. I mean, they're clearly perfect together."

   "It's not always that easy."

   "I'd want to know. If there was someone loving me like this, I'd want them to tell me."

Steve turns to look at him and Eddie's breath catches in his throat.

Does he know? Does he suspect something? That can't be. Eddie never told anyone about his feelings for Steve.

   "What if they're scared?" It already sounds like a confession and Eddie curses himself for not keeping his mouth shut.

   "Scared of what?"

Eddie scoffs frustrated.

   "I don't know, Steve. Rejection? Losing your best friend? Having your heart broken?"

He didn't mean to snap at him but this conversation really hits a nerve.

   "But what if..." Steve trails off, seems lost in his thoughts, "What if they love them back?"

Eddie has the sickening feeling that they're not talking about the movie anymore.

   "They wouldn't know unless the other person gives them a sign."

   "Something like that?"

Before the question even sinks in, Eddie’s lips are sealed with Steve’s that are tentatively pushing, opening up just enough for a hint of tongue Eddie chases with his own, falling easily into the rhythm of Steve's lead.

Eddie keeps his eyes closed for a long moment after they part, contemplating whether he dares to believe this is real.

   "Your heart's safe with me," Steve whispers sweetly and Eddie realises then, that this crush hasn't been so one-sided all this time.

Next year on Valentine's, he promises himself, he'll make it extra special for Steve. Tonight though, sharing pizza and kisses and confessions is enough to make it perfect.

[hairmetal666]

Steve has a problem. Not a big problem--not an Upside Down-sized problem--but still. A problem. In the form of Eddie Munson. And not the person Eddie Munson, who is second only to Robin in the hierarchy of Steve's heart, but his feelings in regard to one Eddie Munson. Namely, his enormous, devastating, gay crush on the guy.

And he knows, okay, he knows Eddie is gay, but that doesn't mean he wants Steve. Eddie is probably into other metalheads or dnd nerds. What could Steve, with his sports and his polo shirts, possibly have to offer?

He's coping, though. Or, at least, he thought he was until the Family Video phone rings and Jonathan invites them to the New Year's Eve party he and Argyle are throwing at their new apartment.

"We have to make a no-date pact." He tells Robin as soon as the phone is back in the cradle.

"Or you could just ask Eddie."

"You could just ask Nancy." He raises an eyebrow.

She lets out a slow breath. "Yeah, okay. No-date pact. I'm down."

It's just as easy to get Nancy and Eddie on board. Nancy just laughs and says "yeah, like I'd bring a date to the party my ex-boyfriend is hosting with his new boyfriend. How you do you even start to explain that dynamic?"

And Eddie snorts right in Steve's face (it's not cute, it's not), says, "Right, cause my dating pool in Hawkins, Indiana is just ripe with guys who want to ring in the New Year with me."

Steve wants to say that he would be that guy, happily, giddily, but he can't risk blowing up his second most important friendship like that, not when Eddie's never given a fraction of a hint that he wants Steve too.

But that's his problem solved, right? The four of them aren't bringing dates. Easy-peasy.

Unfortunately, Steve's life hasn't ever worked out like that, and the party turns out to not be only their little end of the world crew and a handful of people Jon knows from his grocery store job, but an actual motherfucking party.

It takes almost ten minutes for him and Robin to navigate through the sea of strangers to find Jon and Argyle handing out solo cups in the kitchen.

"Who are all these people?" He shouts over the pounding music, nothing like Steve's ever heard.

"Argyle got a job at the record store down the street," Jon yells.

"Co-workers." Argyle nods. "And a few of their friends."

"A few, right."

"The more the merrier. Right, my dude?"

"Sure." Steve takes a cup. "You seen Eddie around?"

"Living room, last time I looked." Jonathan answers.

"See you around?" Robin asks.

"At least meet up for the ball drop," Argyle answers.

They push their way into the cramped living room, and Steve searches for that familiar cloud of hair, the ripped black jeans. It takes a minute just for the sheer amount of bodies pressed into the small space, and when he sees him Eddie's--

He's standing against a wall, next to the stereo (of course), but there's someone with him. Someone who is tall and leanly muscled in a way that Steve isn't. Someone with long hair pushed back from his forehead. Someone with facial piercings in places Steve didn't even know you could pierce and tattoos and a chain hanging from his worn blue jeans and a bandana in his back pocket, just like Eddie.

And Eddie he's--he's gazing up at this dude with clear stars in his brown doe eyes, body angling towards the other man like he can't help but push more into his orbit.

Steve turns hard, Robin colliding with his side. "Steve, what the--oh."

"I hate New Year's Eve," Steve sighs, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It's always been the kind of holiday that is high on expectation and low on follow-through.

"C'mon, I think I spotted Nance over by the bedroom."

He lets Robin guide him across the room, steadfastly not looking back at where Eddie is very obviously finding himself a date. It's okay, Steve reasons. It's okay because that was obviously the kind of guy Eddie would be into it. He knew he had, like, no chance. He shouldn't be disappointed. He shouldn't.

The evening slips away in the shove of people, in the solo cup that manages to always be full in his hand, and he tries as hard as he can to ignore the way Robin and Nancy start sharing the same space.

So much for the no-date pact. He would laugh if a sort of deep loneliness wasn't seeping into his bones.

There's a girl, though, across the room. She's in a short dress and glances at Steve from under hooded eyelids. He could make a move; could have someone to kiss at midnight; have someone just for the night. But then--his heart makes a pathetic patter--Eddie.

Eddie who is practically in that stranger's lap.

He goes out for a cigarette.

When he comes back inside, it's five minutes til midnight and Nancy and Robin are dancing slow and sweet to a song that is neither.

He's happy for them, almost incandescent with it, but the loneliness sinks deeper, reaches marrow, especially after he fails to find Eddie in the crowd.

Steve thinks it might be time to give the whole failed endeavor up for good, but Jonathan and Argyle, both in tiny 1987 novelty top hats, appear at his side.

"Stevie-boy!" Argyle bellows. He lifts Steve at the waist, twirling him, and Steve laughs despite himself.

"Keeping busy?" He asks.

Jonathan pounds him on the back, just a little too hard.

A guest yells from deep in the apartment, "one minute to midnight!" and the music turns off, the TV tuned to Dick Clark and turned up.

Nancy and Robin find their way over, Robin mouthing "sorry," on her way. He pulls her into a side-hug; he'll never begrudge her any happiness, even on his worst day.

From across the room, there's a crash, a short yelp, and then a familiar head of fuzzy brown curls makes its way to them.

"Sorry, sorry." Eddie apologizes as he shoves through the other guests.

"Hi, guys!" He beams at them, cheeks flushed. Steve looks away so he doesn't have to think about how beautiful Eddie is; about how he's not the one who made him blush so pretty.

The countdown on the screen reaches 30 seconds, and the party goers start chanting.

"What happened to--?" Steve can't help but asking.

"Psh, that dude? He's a punk. Plus, I couldn't imagine ringing in 1987 without you guys by my side."

Steve blushes and rolls his eyes. "Sap." He knocks his hip into Eddie's.

"You love it," Eddie wraps him in a loose hold.

The count is down to 10, the ball almost dropped, Jonathan and Argyle and Nancy and Robin making soft eyes at each other.

"What's going on in that head of yours, sweetheart?" Eddie knocks his head gently against Steve's.

"It's nothing."

"You're pouting." Eddie mimics him with a poked out lip.

The count is down to 5.

"Fuck, I just--I wanted to have someone to kiss at midnight, you know?"

The ball drops, the year changes over, the room cheers. His coupled up friends cling to each other in soft, joyous kisses.

Eddie's eyes flick to their friends, to the guests, all kissing and embracing and celebrating, then back to Steve.

With two careful fingers, Eddie lifts Steve's chin, makes it so he can't look away.

"Fuck it," Eddie says. He leans forward, kisses Steve with soft authority.

And Steve just--he just fucking--crumbles into it. He makes a soft noise, curls his fists into Eddie's t-shirt.

Eddie's hands work their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Steve goes eagerly, crushes their bodies together.

They kiss and they kiss, and it's already so far from a friendly New Year's kiss, but then Eddie's tongue swipes into Steve's mouth, and the kiss breaks.

"Um," Eddie says.

Steve can't respond because all his focus is on not giving into the weakness in his knees and collapsing to the floor.

"I've wanted you to do that all night," Steve says.

"Oh." Eddie's face blossoms into a slow smile. "Me too. A lot longer than that, actually."

It's Steve's turn to smile, and he does, so hard it hurts his cheeks. "Me too."

Eddie presses their foreheads together. "Happy New Year, Stevie."

Someone starts singing Auld Lang Syne loudly and off-key, but they're quickly drowned out by a chorus of accompanying voices.

"Happy New Year, Ed."

Steve pulls him in for another kiss. 1987 is already shaping up to be the best year of his life.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Just You and Me: Part One

Hello, everyone! I was reading this series by @the-witty-pen-name and was inspired to make a fic where y’all chose who reader ends up with! On every part of this series after this one, there will be a poll where you can vote whether you want reader to end up with Steve or Eddie or both of them! This has been so much fun to write and I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary: You convince Steve to fake date you in order to get Eddie's attention, unbeknownst to you that Steve is actually very much in love with you.

part two part three

The diner is packed as you sit at a booth, your best friend across from you, eating his stack of pancakes while you've barely even touched yours. You're too nervous to eat, and honestly, watching Steve chow down is making you feel sick. there's just a lot of riding on the whole thing and you know you're going to sound crazy for asking him in the first place, but you still want to at least try.

Steve would do anything for you, you know that, but you're wondering if maybe this is crossing a line. You push your plate to the center of the table and sip on your soda, still trying to get the courage to tell him why you really wanted to meet him there. It definitely wasn't just for pancakes.

Steve isn't stupid. He knows something's going on that you're not telling him. You look sick, nervous and he hates seeing you like that. He just wants you to say what you need to say so you'll feel better again. He knows you're only chugging down your soda so you don't have to speak and he hates that for you, trying his best to not seem concerned because for whatever reason, that always somehow makes it all worse.

You finally get the courage to look up at him and hate that he's put on that dopey smile that always seems to be reserved for you. He's finished his pancakes so now he's just staring at you, waiting for you to just get on with it, politely, though, because he's Steve.

"What I'm about to ask of you is crazy and I know that. You are more than welcome to say no and I won't be offended if you do," you finally say before taking a deep breath.

"Are you asking me to bury a dead body? Did you kill them? No, I actually don't want to know. Wait, yeah I do. I should know if my best friend has committed murder." He's speaking so quickly that you can barely even understand what he's saying.

"I don't need help burying a body and I didn't murder anyone. I'm not asking you to do anything illegal, Steve. I would never ask you to do that. That's why we have Eddie, right?" Steve knows that Eddie would be the one to help you out with that kind of thing and that pisses him off. Fucking Eddie. It's just been the two of you your whole lives and then this fucker comes in and ruins Steve's whole plan. Well, he would have if Steve would have just stopped being a pussy and asked you out already.

Truth be told, the man has been in love with you since the moment he laid eyes on you. All you've ever been is friends, but he wants to be more. And he wants it so badly that the whole thing makes his chest ache. The only reason why he hasn't made a move in the almost fifteen years you've been friends is because as much as he loves you romantically, he doesn't want your relationship to change. He's afraid that if the two of you got together, you'd eventually break up and then he'd lose you for good.

"Right, so what's this about?" He asks before taking a sip from his own glass. For once, he's unable to read the situation. He almost always knows what's going on with you, but right now, he's got nothing.

"Well, speaking of Eddie, well, I sort of have a huge crush on him." Steve doesn't know why you're telling him this. He's known for a while. You're so obvious about it that it sometimes makes him cringe. He wishes he could give you some of his subtlety so you’d look a little more cool around Eddie.

"Duh." He's laughing now and for once, it's a joke you don't get, like it's something just for Steve and Steve alone.

"You know?"

"Y/n, all of Hawkins knows. You're not exactly subtle. But what does this have to do with me?"

"I was wondering if you maybe...would be willing to fake date me in order to get his attention." His eyes widen at your request. Whatever he thought you were going to say, it defintely wasn't that.

"Yeah, nice try. Not happening." He can't do it. He won't. He would do just about anything for you, but not this. This is where he’s drawing the line.

"You're not even going to consider it?" You're pouting now and if things were different, he'd kiss it away, or maybe he'd just give in because he almost always does when it comes to your silly ideas. This one, though, has got to be the silliest of them all.

"You said I could say no so this is me saying no." He crosses his arms over his chest in a sort of "that's final" manner and you know you should just forget the whole thing. It was all just a pipe dream anyway.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to help, it’s that he can’t. He would actually love to pretend to be your boyfriend and act all mushy with you like he’s wanted for years, but none of it will be real. It’s just going to be a fake relationship with fake feelings and fake kisses and he just can’t take that. It will all just hurt too much when he watches you running into Eddie’s arms when the thing is all over.

He already feels like a dick and seeing the dejected look on your face as you stir your soda with your straw is starting to feel like you stabbed him in the chest. And you might as well have. It would hurt much less.

Guilt is beginning to eat at him as he looks at you. That sad look on your face is making him reconsider. You do so much for him so he doesn’t know why he can’t do this little thing for you. It’ll be maybe a couple weeks tops, right? That wouldn’t be too bad. And not to toot his own horn or anything, but he’s a great actor. Well, he only thinks so because The Hawkins Post article that covered his fourth grade class’s performance of The Wizard of Oz applauded his role as Toto.

Maybe he can fake date you. Maybe it could be fun and he’s just overthinking it. He just wants you to be happy, and the thought of you possibly asking someone else is starting to make him feel sick.

“I guess I could just ask Robin,” you mumble, more to yourself than him, but he can still very much hear you. He can’t believe how quick you’re switching up on him, how quickly you’re able to find an alternate now that he’s said no. He’s usually your first and only option for things so now that you’re even considering asking anyone else-well, the knife has been twisted.

“I see how quick you are to replace me,” he grumbles. “And with Robin?”

“Well, who else am I going to ask? My first choice said no.”

“Or maybe you could cut the shit and just tell him how you feel. Eddie likes it when people are straight up with him.”

You know he’s right, but actually putting your feelings out there is terrifying, especially to one of your friends. You feel sick even thinking about it, the worst possible outcome playing in your head. You can vividly see Eddie laughing at you, the sounds echoing, sounding distorted, making you feel small and scared.

Yeah, there’s no chance that you’re letting that happen even though Eddie would never laugh at you because of something like that. If he were going to reject you, he’d let you down easy and be nothing but a gentleman about it.

“Alright, fine, fine,” Steve pulls you out of your thoughts. “Jesus, you’re lucky I love you.”

“Aww, I love you too, Stevie.” You’ve got on a smug smirk and he’s prepared to shut that shit down. As much as he loves you, he’s not doing this without something in return.

“Not so fast.”

“What?” You’re genuinely confused, convinced that it was a done deal and now you’re unsure if he’s actually going to go through with it or not.

“I mean, what do I get out of this? What’s in it for Steve?” He leans back against the booth, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The satisfaction of a job well done?” You ask with a shrug and he just shakes his head, unimpressed.

“If it works,” he scoffs. “What else?”

“My love and affection?” That should be a given.

“Boring,” he yawns. “You have to cover any family video shift I ask of you and you have to do my laundry for a month.”

“You’re kidding.” Your shoulders slump as you realize that you’re actually going to have to agree to his terms if you ever want to have a chance with Eddie.

“Afraid not. You didn’t seriously think I’d do it for free, did you?” You sort of did because he always does, but you suppose that this is much bigger than his other favors.

“I don’t know, maybe. But you’ve got a deal.” You reach across the table and put your hand out for him to shake.

“Really? That easily. Shit, you must be desperate.” He shakes your hand and that’s that. Steve is now officially your fake boyfriend.

“I am.”

“This better be worth it.” God, this is going to kill him, but anything for his best friend, right?

“Oh, it will be,” you tell him as you down the rest of your soda as you grab your purse that’s sitting next to you before you and Steve stand from your table and you walk side by side to the front where you pay for the meal. It’s the least you can do for Steve helping you out like this, right?

-

“You are such a dingus,” Robin tells Steve. He’s over at her apartment, the two of them talking over mugs of coffee at her kitchen table. He raced right over after breakfast with you to discuss the colossal mistake he just made, desperately wanting his other best friend’s advice.

“What the hell else was I supposed to do, Rob? She was looking at me with those puppy dog eyes.” He’s saying it like that was the only option he had when he could have easily said no and you would have dropped it.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington. Why can’t you just tell her that you love her?”

“And risk ruining one of the best friendship I’ve ever had? No thanks.”

“I can’t but also can believe you’ve gotten yourself into this. It’s just like you to help the woman you love get another man. Just so you know, I don’t support this.”

Robin loves you, you’re one of her best friends, and while she doesn’t think you ever ask too much of Steve, she does think that he tends to overlook his feelings to spare yours a lot of the time. He’d much rather risk his own happiness if it means he’s helping you in some sort of way.

While she loves that he’s willing to go above and beyond for you, she still thinks that’s it’s important that he takes care of himself. She just wants what’s best for him and hates that he’ll spread himself way too thin just to see a smile on your face.

“No one was asking you to,” he glares and she just mimics his facial expression. “I wasn’t asking for advice, I was just telling you what’s going on so you wouldn’t think it was real and blow my secret.”

“You’re pathetic,” she shakes her head. She honestly doesn’t know Steve still hasn’t told you the truth. The two of you could be married or at least engaged by now, but he’s too much of a chicken to just admit his feelings for you.

He’ll claim it’s because he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship, but Robin knows the truth. She knows that he’s just afraid of putting himself out there. She’s seen the women zipping in and out of his life and not one of them has stuck. As much as he claims he wants to love and be loved, he’s scared. Terrified, even. He’s convinced it will all just crash and burn and he’ll be all alone. Again.

“I know,” he whines, resting his head onto the table before quickly leaning back up and running a hand through his hair. “But hey, if said no, she was going to ask you.”

“Me?” She asks, her eyebrows shooting up as her big eyes widen. “I could have been her fake significant other? Shit, I would have done it for free.” Robin has always thought you were pretty and shit, having everyone think that you were her girlfriend would have been a goddamn honor.

“You’re not her type.” She knows exactly what he means by that, but she just feels like messing with him.

“Oh, and you are?” That’s salt in the wound and she knows it. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to take it back.

“You know what I mean,” he waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “And besides, you’re a terrible liar so it wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

“Well, I would have sold it much better than you,” she scoffs. “But maybe not since you always look at her with the longing stares. How she doesn’t know is beyond me. Anyway, I have to get to work. I’ll see you later, lover boy.”

As Robin leaves, Steve’s not so quick to get up. He just stares down into his coffee mug, gathering his thought about the whole thing. One the one hand, he wants to help you, but one the other, he’s already starting to feel hurt about deceiving his friend. Eddie’s someone he’s gotten really close to over the years and he’d hate to lose someone so special to him just because of something like that.

And what happens if you actually do end up with Eddie? Will Steve resent him for it? It wouldn’t exactly be fair since Eddie has no idea that Steve is in love with you, but he just doesn’t think he’d be able to stand by and watch the two of you behave like a couple when that’s all he’s wanted pretty much his whole life.

But there’s no turning back now. He’s going to stick it out because he doesn’t want to let you down. He’s going to have to see this through, watching you use him to get another man while having no idea that’s he’s fallen madly and deeply in love with you.

He drains the last few sips of his coffee then puts the mug in the dishwasher before heading out, making sure to lock Robin’s door behind him. He gets into his car and sits for a second, thinking to himself that he’s about to be in for one hell of a ride.

[inkedbybarnes]

anything

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky is determined to take care of you while you're sick.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: mentions of insecurities, mentions of illnesses (but vaguely described), fluffy ahh shit bc why not, usage of pet names such as baby and doll. bucky being stubbornly sweet (it is indeed, a warning), lowercase writing.

i've been sick the past few days hence the creation of this fic. idk why my mood drops when i'm sick... once again, this is too fluffy even for my own good but i warned you and you're reading it still anyway. 🤨 haha jk, i hope you enjoy this one! 🩷

dividers by @cafekitsune!

reblogs, comments, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡

“can you please let me in, baby?"

that was the fifth time bucky had asked the same question, never giving up on his mission to take care of you after learning from jarvis – out of all people... or robots? – that you were sick.

“bucky, i promise, i'm fine. stop trying to break the door,” you answered, your clogged nose not helping as you sounded horrible even with a concrete wall separating you from him. “go and tell steve that you're joining the mission. you can't withdraw yourself just because i'm—achoo!”

your nose began to leak, and you were now distracted with the need to find the tissue box that used to be on your bed. you didn't hear the door clicking open as well as the heavy footsteps of a certain soldier walking towards you.

“just because you're what? sick?”

you jumped, feeling the edge of the bed sink with his weight. you quickly grabbed the tissue box that was mysteriously thrown under the bed before facing bucky with the duvet covering most of your body.

“how did you open the door?”

bucky shrugged. “i broke the doorknob. you didn't say anything about breaking doorknobs.”

you sighed, not winning this argument with bucky. “you shouldn't be here, bucky. you're supposed to be preparing for a mission tomorrow, not babysitting me!”

“and let you go through this on your own? tough chance, doll. i'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake, and don't tell me that you're worried about getting me sick because we both know i'm immune," he argued, reaching out and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal your face. “are you really upset that i want to take care of you? you should be demanding things from me, baby. instead you've been hiding from me.”

“because i don't need anything, bucky. i can handle myself just fine." you huffed, knowing you wanted his attention and care so badly. remembering your face was exposed, you felt insecure again. you dragged the cover back up and turned away. “i also don't want you to see me like this.”

“like what?"

“like a mess," you muttered underneath the sheets. “you've never seen me like this before, and i swear i am the worst when i'm sick. you don't have to see me like this, okay? i don't want you to.”

you felt silly. it was completely normal to get sick, but you hated how extreme your body would act out whenever an illness would attack you. you'd always sound and look like you were fighting a battle in hell alone. the way your mind would take an entire flip and drag you to your lowest point didn't help either. so, not only were you feeling physically horrible, you were also struggling mentally.

“a mess? what mess?” he asked, lifting the cover to join you underneath it which caught you off guard. you were entirely exposed to his eyes now. “there's my girl. where's the mess that you're talking about, huh?”

with the little amount of energy left in you, you brought your hands up to cover your face. he could see how much of a mess you were now, far from the dream you've painted since the day you dated him. now, you were nothing but a nightmare of your reality.

“don't you dare hide from me. i haven't seen you all day and it's driving me insane," he complained, pulling your hands away from yourself. he brought his thumb to your teary eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fall. “i can't believe you're hiding from me just because you think i can't handle seeing you sick. what did you think i'd do once i saw you like this?”

you sniffed, hesitation holding you back from telling him the truth. it's only been three months since you've started dating bucky, and you were still in that stage where you'd constantly try impress him.

you weren't faking yourself, no. however, you still did your best to only show your good side and tuck away your insecurities. unfortunately, you had to get sick too soon and have to risk bucky seeing you this way.

“you thought i'd leave you? won't like you anymore? get turned off or something?”

you nodded, knowing that was exactly what went through your head and a bit pissed that he was able to read your mind without actually having the power to do so.

bucky's eyes softened at your confession, letting out a soft sigh as he saw how badly you were beating yourself up.

“if it's because of how you look right now, then it's true. you do look different," he answered, your chest tightening. “your eyes lost their glow, you're frowning more often, your eyes are all puffy, you are definitely grumpier than usual, your lips are dry and chapped from—”

“okay, i get it, bucky! you don't have to rub it in my fa—”

“but i won't be doing whatever is on your mind. you're sick, doll. it'll affect you. it's normal. hell, i look even worse when i used to get sick, but you? you still look so fucking lovely." he held your face gently, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “even then, i don't give a fuck on how messy you can get. i'm your boyfriend. i should be taking care of you, helping you feel better, and bringing back the glow in your eyes. please, baby. let me take care of you.”

this time, you were looking back at him. "you mean it?"

"of course I mean it," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "i love you, doll. i don't care how you look like right now. you could look like a swamp monster and be sick as a dog, and i would still think that you are the most beautiful woman for me."

you giggled softly, his words filling you with warmth and reassurance. you felt so lucky to have a man who truly loved you and handled your insecurities with such understanding and care, and even sillier for thinking he'd leave you for such reasons.

“thank you. that really made me feel better," you told him, your arms slowly creeping forward to hold him. “i'm sorry for hiding. i was just scared to turn you off or anything.”

“are you kidding? i'm trying my best not to hold you down and kiss you all over. i haven't even hugged you for a day,” bucky said, a pout on the verge of forming on his face.

“it hasn't even been a day, bucky. now, who's dramatic?" you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “and you're supposed to be on a mission tomorrow! are you really not going?”

“when i could be here taking care of you?” he asked, as if the answer was already obvious. “the others can handle it. my main priority is to do anything you want and make you feel better.”

“anything?”

he smiled, leaning down to let your lips meet softly. "anything."

( a lil bonus < 3 )

“what is that smell?”

sam, steve, and natasha entered the compound after a quick briefing for their mission tomorrow. they joined tony and clint who were having a casual conversation in the living room about the best burrito in town.

the kitchen was an open space, the aroma of whatever bucky was cooking spreading all around the nearby rooms.

sam didn't hesitate to come closer and inspect the kitchen, finding the entire counter lined up with various spices and plates that bucky filled with his dishes.

“what's the occasion? did i miss something?" sam asked, grabbing a fork to take a little taste until bucky slapped his hand away. "ow! what was that for?"

"hands off." bucky warned, frowning at sam. “that's not for you, wilson."

“not even a nibble? come on, man. it smells amazing!”

their usual bickering caught the attention of the other avengers, immediately joining them in the kitchen which annoyed bucky even more when he saw them eyeing the food he made.

"before any of you try to ask, no. this is not for any of you."

"who's it even for?" natasha asked, the least interested to have a taste, but was curious either way.

bucky answered with your name. "she's sick."

"what? since when?" clint asked, worry flashing across his face. "can we do anything?"

bucky glanced up before hesitantly answering. "well.. she did say she wanted to watch a movie after eating."

clint snapped his fingers and smiled. "i'm on it."

"i'll get jarvis to check on her vitals every hour and create a diagnosis," tony said, already tapping on his smart watch. "assuming she wouldn't be too comfortable letting the entire team know what's going on with her body, i'll just let you receive the updates. just update me with what you can, yeah?"

"i'll talk to fury and let you both have a week free from work," steve offered. "she needs the rest and she needs you."

"oh, i'll handle fury. he can't say no to his favourite," natasha said with a smug smile. "tell her i'll bring her all her favourite snacks once we're back from our mission, and that she better be back to full health so we can go out together."

bucky nodded, chest warming with the genuine concern they shared. he was excited to let you know how loved and deserving of all this you were.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[luveline]

kisses before dinner —the harrington family gets ready for a dinner party. mom!reader, 3k

"...and I told mommy she needed my help but your mom doesn't like listening to me anymore," Steve says, eyebrows pulled together, "because of that one time I told her the side of the refrigerator was supposed to feel warm and it broke. But I'm usually right."

Wren blinks at him dopily where she lies in the dip of his thighs. Steve has his knees up, back flat on the couch and head propped by a pink fluffy heart pillow from Bethie's bed to speak to her face to face. 

"I promise you'll understand when you're older. I'm a genius." He strokes her little forehead. Steve's youngest daughter is too baby to look like anybody, but he's starting to think she looks like him anyway. "And now mom has to run the washing machine again when we were already super duper busy." 

"Shut up!" you yell from the kitchen. 

Bethie giggles from the same place, seemingly, raising her voice to join in, "Yeah, daddy! Shut up!" 

"That's so not nice." Steve shakes his head at Wren in dramatic disbelief. She smiles at him. "Isn't that mean? Don't you think that's sick?" 

"You're being a know-it-all again!" you continue. "And we'd be less busy if you were helping me!" 

"I'm sick of helping," Steve says conversationally. "I help all day long." 

Wren gurgles and lifts one of her hands toward him. Steve holds it in his, rubbing at her palm with a gentle thumb. She totally gets what he's saying, agrees with him no doubt, breathing out heavily as Steve gives her hand a wave up and down. 

"Steve," you say, dropping the angry act to pull him in, "please, sweetheart, I really do need your help."

"How am I supposed to say no to that?" Steve whispers. "Does she guilt trip you that way?" 

Wren doesn't giggle, but the breathy, happy sound she makes as he crunches forward to kiss her forehead is close enough to make Steve laugh himself. He moves her carefully into the curve of his arm and stands, wishing he could stretch, exhausted by another long week but undeniably happy. "Let's go see what they want," he murmurs to Wren. 

You and Bethie are in the kitchen by the stove. She's wearing oven mitts too big for her, and you're crouched behind her offering steady instructions. "Don't touch the sides, my love. Only the baking tray. If it feels warm and you're not happy, tell me, and I'll take it straight away." You wear your own oven gloves.

"I can do it," Beth insists, squaring her features. 

Beth takes the baking tray and its cookies into her hands, walking with short steps to the counter, where she slides the tray up high. You lean over her to make sure it's settled before closing the oven and dashing a kiss into her cheek. "Well done, gorgeous girl," you say, scratching lightly at her shoulder as she preens under the praise. "One day you'll be making cookies all by yourself."

"But not for a while?" she asks, startled. 

You kiss her again. "Not for a long, long time." 

"Did you need my help or my approval?" Steve asks, his hand making a small thump with each pat he taps into Wren's back. "A taste tester, right?" 

"I need you to find your other daughters. I have no idea where they are," you say with a rueful smile. 

"Okay." Steve has carried babies. He's carried them for years, tiny ones and ones too big to need it, carried nonetheless. But something about Wren in all her newness makes him nervous. He hates carrying her up and down the stairs, too aware of the times he's missed a step or tripped up. "Can you take her?" 

"Yes!" Bethie says, running to her unofficial chair at the dining table and holding out her mitted arms as she sits. 

You nod at him and take the seat next to her. Steve hands Wren over into her sister's waiting hold, more than confident you're still there to take over if things get overwhelming. Wren looks comically large in Bethie's lap. 

"I have her, dad." Beth leans down to touch her nose to Wren's. "Hi, Wren. Hello, hello," she says softly.

Steve gives your cheek a swift but loving stroke and leaves in search of the other kids. He can hear Dove in her room talking to herself in make believe, but Avery, the oldest, isn't with her, nor is she in her bedroom. Steve knocks on the bathroom door. 

"Are you in there, Ave?" 

No answer. Steve raises his voice. "I'm coming in." 

He peeks inside slowly but she's not there. Eyebrows raised, Steve asks, "Avery, where are you?" Nothing. "Avery Harrington, don't make me worry! Please." 

He lets his head drift to one side, listening for an answer. Avery rarely gets told off and she hates it; she'd jump to tell him where she was if she were up here. 

Or so he thinks. Just as he's taking the stairs again to look for her someplace he must have missed, he hears sniffling coming from the master bedroom. 

Idiot, he thinks, relief taking tight hold. He doesn't like not knowing where the girls are. He should've checked your room to begin with. 

"Ave?" he says, opening his bedroom door. "You in here?" 

"I'm here, dad," she says, peering up from the space between the top of the bed and his nightstand, kneeling on the carpeted floor. 

"What are you doing down there? We gotta get ready for Aunt Robin's party." 

Her cheeks shine in the slice of light from the open door. Steve closes it behind him and flicks on the big light, rounding the end of the bed to help her up. He hooks his hands under her arms and pulls her into his chest, bed springs creaking as their joined weight lands. 

"Why are you crying?" he asks, cuddling her to his front. "What's wrong? Why didn't you come and find me? You can't stay here crying all by yourself, that's not cool. How am I supposed to make it better if I don't know what's wrong?" 

"Dove bit me." 

Steve gasps. "Again?" 

"On my hand, dad." She holds up her wrist. "It hurts." 

He presses his cheek to the top of her head, taking her arm tenderly to analyse the bite. It's a nasty thing, not bleeding but cruel and stark. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"You said I can't be mean–" 

"No, you can't–" 

"But it was really mean." 

"I know," he murmurs, "but I just don't… we can't be mean to Dove when she bites because she doesn't know it's wrong, okay? She doesn't remember. She knows it's the wrong thing to do, but by the time I tell her she doesn't know what she did." What Steve means is that the first time Dove bit Avery, Avery reacted on impulse and slapped her sister in the stomach. There isn't a bridge yet to connect to Dove why she might have received such a thing (though Steve teaches all the girls that hitting is never okay no matter what), so Dove just thought she was being hit. It was a very tense half hour of tears. 

Steve rubs Avery's back as she starts to cry in earnest. "I will tell her not to bite you, honey. I swear, I won't let her be mean to you. I'll tell her until she understands." 

He's been trying to teach Dove not to bite, but saying 'no' doesn't seem to do anything. Positive incentives don't last, and taking her toys wouldn't make much sense, because again, she doesn't get it. 

"You know," Steve says, wiping her cheeks tenderly, "I'll tell her again and again and again until she stops, and it'll work, because it worked with you." 

"What?" 

"You used to bite me sometimes, but you used to bite mom all the time." 

Avery looks at him in horror. "I did?" 

He puts her down onto her feet and takes her hand. He'd like to tell her this story while sitting down, but Robin's house beckons and time is running short. "Mom would come home from work and you'd be very happy to see her, but she would ask you what you did today and where we went and you'd bite her." 

He peeks into Dove's room and finds her missing. Downstairs, you say, "No! No, no, babe!" and he assumes she's been found. 

"Why would I do that?" 

Steve holds her hand buoyed between them as he descends the stairs. "We decided it was because you missed her. When your Dove's age you don't know how to say that. You don't even know what that is. I'm a thousand years old and I don't even know what I'm feeling half the time. So mom stopped hugging you after work for a bit until you calmed down." 

"But I don't go to work, dad. Why did Dove bite me?" 

"What were you doing?" 

"We were playing with Mr Scruffles and the care bears and she just bit me for no reason!" 

Steve stops at the bottom of the stairs. "Were you being a bossy boots?" 

Avery glares at him. "I just told her to stop taking Funshine bear." 

"Well," Steve says, smiling at her in apology, "maybe, next time, you can come and tell me, and then I'll tell her to stop taking Funshine bear, and then when she wants to bite someone she bites me instead of you. That could work, yeah?" He would much prefer it. 

Steve takes Avery to the kitchen, where you've transferred Wren into her bassinet while Bethie eats a cookie, her cheeks messy with chocolate, and Dove languishes in your arms, small hands touching your hair curiously. 

"Dove, will you look at this?" he asks, showing her Avery's bite mark. "You see that, honey? That's what you did when you bit your sister. We don't bite."

You gasp. "No!" you say, stern but far from cruel. "We don't bite. We only bite when we want to eat something." 

Dove frowns. 

"When you bite," Steve says, trying to appeal to her smarts. It'll stick eventually. "You give Avery an owie. That's why we can't bite, okay?" 

Dove can tell she's being chided even if she doesn't totally get why. "No," she says unhappily. 

"Can you say sorry to Avery?" you ask, reassuring her with a gentle squeeze. "Say, I'm sorry, Avery." 

"Sorry, Ave'y," she mumbles. 

Avery can't glare for long. She doesn't hold a grudge, not like her dad. "It's okay. You didn't mean to." 

You beam at Avery like she's hung the moon. "You're so nice, my big girl. Can I have a look at your wrist? Did that hurt?" 

Her mother's concern draws fresh tears. You swap children, and Dove quickly forgets what happened as Avery cries in little sniffles on the countertop. Steve brims with a familiar brand of pride as you comfort her, kissing and offering treats to help her feel better. I picked the right one might be applicable, only Steve didn't choose you so much as he happened upon you one day like a miracle, and then begged to keep you. Luckily for him, you've always been very agreeable on that front. 

(As in, you love him more than can be said in any one language.) 

"What are you upto?" Steve asks Bethie.

She shows him her food-covered hands. He nods like this is awesome, but in reality chocolate stains her t-shirt and she's going to have to change before they leave. Dove rams herself against his leg and looks up with her eyes widened. 

"What?" he asks. 

"Um…" 

"What do you want?" he asks, softer. She starts to frown again. Steve bends. "Drink? Crackers?" No dice. "What about some pear slices?" 

Dove loves pears more than anything, the sticky, sugary sliced kind from the can. Her frown disappears and she walks off, thankful to be understood. Steve's just grateful he wasn't bitten.

"What else did you need?" Steve asks, winding around you where you're cleaning Avery's cheeks. A damp washcloth drips down your arm.

"More time. Have any?" 

"Wren's bag is done, bottles done, Bethie's dinner." He whispers the last part. Bethie is a picky eater and she grows pickier with time, and Robin knows this, but she's not a parent (as sweet and caring as she might be for the girls). Only something you or Steve have made is something Bethie will deign to eat, and she's insecure about it despite having no reason to be. "Beth needs a new top. Your blouse needs to go in the dryer, and I can't find my nice pants. Avery?" 

"I don't need anything." 

"You sure? You have Mr Scruffles?" 

She wraps her arms around your neck. "Just want a hug." 

"Then I guess I'm busy while daddy does all my chores," you tease Steve lightly, your touch similarly soft where it tracks up and down Avery's arm. "I'm sorry Dove bit you again. It's not fair. Not fair at all. Maybe we should only have you playing downstairs until me and dad figure it out, okay? I don't want her to keep taking bits of you." 

Steve clears the checklist. Not to brag or anything, but he's a pro. You both are. Life is hectic as always and you knew getting out the door would be a process, so you planned accordingly, and you arrive at Robin's with time to spare, though Dove smells strongly of sugary pears and Bethie's new shirt has fingerprints on the back. 

"Hi, crew!" Robin greets. "It's my favourite Harringtons!" 

"We're your only Harringtons." 

"That's not true, I went to college with a Harrington." Robin ushers the girls inside. They want one thing and one thing alone —hugs. Dove is the most insistent, dropping your hand to offer Robin her arms. She picks the small girl up and smiles at her with a monumental amount of love. Robin doesn't have favourites but Dove demands it, sometimes. Avery says, "Hello, Aunt Robin," and hugs her stomach, while Bethie puts her arm behind Avery and hugs them both. 

Steve's arm shakes. "Any chance I can get through? This is a really heavy baby." 

"Hi," Robin says, ignoring him without guilt. "You guys are the best part about having a best friend." 

Steve logs that one for later revenge and eases around the mass of bodies to take Wren into the living room. "Holy fuck," he says, "I thought you weren't coming?" 

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I wanted to see the girls. It has nothing to do with you." 

They hug and pat each other on the back, and then Eddie drops to his knees in front of Wren's car seat to smile at her. "I love her so much. Can I have this one? Y'already have so many." 

"No you absolutely cannot. Where's Dustin?" 

"They're all in the backyard. Mora's teaching them how to make grass flutes, or something." 

"How'd you get out of that?" 

Eddie shrugs. "She doesn't like me. Doesn't make any sense, goth and metal are like brothers." 

"Is she goth? I thought we settled on hippie who wears dark clothing." 

"You guys are such losers!" Robin says, like a tree adorned in girl-shaped ornaments. "Don't bitch about Mora." 

"Don't swear in front of my kids!" 

You, having taken off your shoes and coat, unlike Steve, shimmy around the table. "He said 'fucking bitch' in front of Bethie the other day," you gossip, sitting by your friend's side. Eddie gives you a quick hug. You're undoubtedly his favourite Harrington. 

"He's a disgusting man who shouldn't have kids." 

You gasp and elbow him. "How dare you." 

"Can we go play with Stinky?" Avery asks Robin. 

Robin puts Dove down, short hair flying every which way, "If you can find him. But be nice, okay? He's agitated today. Mora says it's something about the supermoon." 

Avery laughs and Dove races to follow her sister up the stairs. "Ave, remember what I said, okay?" Steve calls after her. "Come and tell me if she's being bad! And no going in the bathroom!" 

Bethie remains, oddly. Though it's obvious why she's stayed the longer she lingers, her gaze flickering between you and Eddie. 

He holds his arms out. "Hello, Beth. You want a bro hug?" 

Bethie laughs and meanders into his waiting arms, where he pat-pat-pats her back like he did to Steve, eliciting a wave of happy giggles. "You've gotten so big again!" Eddie says, moving her away kindly. "Woah!" 

"I'm glad people have stopped saying that to me," you joke. 

Steve's delighted, laughing loud and sudden, and you're always pleased to have made him laugh, practically collapsing in his direction. He pulls at you until you're arm's reach. 

"What does that mean, Eddie?" Bethie whispers. 

Eddie pulls her into his lap. "It means your mom is happy about baby Wren being born." 

"I'm really happy too." 

"I bet you are! Your dad told me you're like his little helper, is that true?" 

Steve turns into your cheek. A quick stolen moment before he kisses under your ear and pulls away. "Wow," he says, smiling at you, "could we, like, actually have a conversation right now? A full one?" 

You beam. "What do you wanna talk about?" 

Steve could happily talk about everything and nothing with you. Before bed you guys are usually tired but excited enough to be alone together that you'll talk about the colour of the new dish soap or Avery's broken pinky nail. "Seen any good movies lately?" 

You give him the look. He practically invented it, that sticky, gooey eyed love as you murmur, "Mm, no. Don't think so. How about you?" 

He leans in for a kiss. 

"Yikes," Eddie says, covering a giggling Bethie's eyes with his hands. "Robin, house rules, please!" 

Steve drops his arms heavily over your shoulders for a warm hug. "He's just jealous," he whispers. 

[musette22]

Sorry for my rambling but the resurgence of ppl who hate Steve’s ending on TikTok got me thinking again.

Why do people insist Steve was still a man out of time 10 years into the MCU and he didn’t adapt to the future? Why do they keep pretending like Steve loved living in the past bc “it was the past society he was missing” and not bf he woke up all alone and confused, PTSD’d to hell 70 years in the future, ALONE.

Chris said it himself when he said Steve finds his found family in the future. He has Sam, Natasha, treats Wanda as a lil sister. Then he does everything, including defying all governments and becoming a criminal to get his best friend back. Steve is very much adapted and he doesn’t long for the past. Sure, he misses people. The commandos all died and he never got to see the . Peggy aged and got sick (and let’s be real, he pretty much says goodbye to her in tws and she tells him to move on and live his own life and then suddenly in endgame BAM he’s not over her again? When he’s been just fine the past few movies?? Like sure her death was sad for him but hes not longing after her? All he is focused on is *checks notes* saving Bucky and defying the government.

It’s just such a superficial and lazy read of Steve’s initial “man out of time” schtick to keep reducing him to someone who could never adapt to the progressive future when he is in fact the most progressive avenger. Steve does not long for the past because he thinks it was a better time but bc he was abruptly ripped out of it. But not once do we ever see him struggle to adapt again. He does not even long after Peggy and is happy she got to live her own happy life. Where does this “Steve needs to live in the past to be happy” trope come from, and why did the Russo brothers fall for it too? How is Steve not a man out of time again in the 50s when he’s already used to the future?

Steve “the past is for fossils” Rogers’s final ending is to retract all his progress and fuck off to the past and ditch his found family, sure

First of all, people on tiktok are talking about how terrible Steve's ending was? That's great, gives me back some hope for that app lol.

And second of all, PREACH. All of this, a thousand times over. You're absolutely correct and you should say it, thank you very much. I genuinely agree with all of this so much, and I could go on and on about it, but I don't want to spend more of my precious energy dwelling on that dumb movie anymore than I already have.

Just about this bit, though:

"How is Steve not a man out of time again in the 50s when he’s already used to the future?" - THIS, plus he never actually lived through the 50s because he was in the ice from 1945 onwards, and he spent the years before that at war in Europe, so that would just another time jump/displacement for him?? He'd just be DOUBLY out of time: displaced both from the future which had very much become his present and his home, and also his past, which he never would've actually wanted to go back to anyway, LEAST of all without Bucky (and his friends/new family), and definitely not for Peggy, who he'd already said goodbye to and knew to have lived a good life. Jesus Christ. Literally the stupidest fucking ending anyone could've come up with for Steve, congratulations you marvel numbnuts.

ANYWAY. I'll always be angry about this, but I should probably also mind my blood pressure lmao so I'm just going to forget about this whole fiasco again now and think about how happy Steve and Bucky currently are together 🥰

[usoppshoneydew]

"Specs" Mcu! Peter Parker x reader👓👓👓

S: Peter sees you in glasses for the first time.

Pairing: Tom Holland! Spider-man x F! Black Reader

Tw: None, it's fuffly

Word count: 1.9k

Notes: Reader doesn't normally wear glasses;This is proofread but there may still be mistakes👓👓

Peter steps out of the tower elevator and immediately sighs with relief when the cool, expensive ac air washes over him. Sure, the entire tower has expensive air conditioning too, but there's just something about the top floor. Peter doesn't see anyone around, usually meaning that everyone's out, and goes to wash his hands in the kitchen. If no one's here, he'll probably just go back to his apartment. He hated being in the tower alone.

“Hey Friday, do you know if anyone's home today? I have something I've gotta give to-!” Peter asks into the air as he dries his hands off, before stopping and turning his head right as someone walks out of the pantry. Thor walks out, sidestepping to fit his broad shoulders through the door, with a box of pop tarts in his hand. He looks up from the box and belatedly notices the brunette in front of him.

“Ah, young Parker! Back from your daily studies I see.” The God of thunder greets Peter with a smile and a nod, an open poptart packet already in hand. Peter discreetly places a hand over his heart, acting as if he hadn't gotten startled, before responding to him.

“ Hey Thor, I was just asking Friday who's at the tower today.” Peter continues while lingering near the counter, still waiting for a specific answer.

“He wants to know if Y/n is home.” The AI casually exposes him, and Peter clears his throat loudly, feeling his face start to burn. Thor sends him a knowing smile that just makes Peter blush harder, before squinting in thought.

“I'm pretty sure she's in her quarters. Mentioned something about constructing music into a list?” He answers with a shrug. Peter just nods, heart jumping at the thought of seeing you today. You'd been gone on a mission in Wakanda, accompanying Sam, Steve, and Bucky, and Peter wasn't told when you'd be back. So he might have asked Friday a few dozen times if you were home, once your mission breached two weeks in length.

“Oh ok. My aunt was wondering if she was back yet, so I thought I'd check, is all.” Peter shrugs it off, and the silence that follows is telling, both Thor ,and Friday if she could giving him a deadpan look. Peter takes this as a chance to dip towards the hallway, leaving behind a conversation about another grocery order for more poptarts. The new college student walks through the expansive hallway, swinging a large ,paper bag in his hand. He hadn't been lying about his aunt. May really did ask about you this morning when they both were slapping together something that resembles breakfast( Bananas and a granola bar for Peter, bare toast for May). That didn't change that he's been looking forward to your arrival like a lovesick puppy all week. It's like when your crush is out sick at school, so you have nothing to look forward to throughout the day. Peter looks up and notices sunlight shining from your room, meaning your door was open.

“Knock knock.” Peter calls out while physically tapping his knuckles against your door frame. Peter peeks inside, hoping you're not randomly changing with the door open, and sees you sitting at your desk. You've obviously got earbuds in, if the way you're humming and bobbing your head is anything to go by. You're busy nodding your head to your music when you feel a hand tap your shoulder. You flinch hard before whipping your head towards the source.

“Oh, Peter.” You sigh once you see it's him, the frown on your face instantly softening. There's nobody in the tower you'd be particularly upset to turn around to, perhaps just irritated with them for startling you, but Peter wasn't one of those people. You must've startled him too because the brunette’s eyes are wide and focused on you. You give him a second more to stare at you before blinking and tugging at his shirt.

“Um- Peter?” You say tentatively, wondering why he was standing here staring at you like you had a third eye. Peter is looking at you because the eyes you do have are covered by lenses. You've got glasses framing your face, a sight he's sure he's never seen before. A helmet, sure, goggles, maybe, but never glasses.

“Are those prescription?” he asks dumbly, gesturing towards you and you blink before finally computing what he's talking about.

“Oh these? Nah, they're just computer glasses. They block the blue light.” You explain before taking them off for a second and turning them for the brunette. Peter feels his cheeks start to flush and for the life of him can't explain why. They were just glasses. All the highschool movies he watched as a kid always said that people look better once they take their glasses off. Those movie directors have obviously never met you though. It's like when you put on earrings or style your hair a different way after a few weeks. They make you look cuter than you already do, and that doesn't really help Peter's already abundant affection for you.

“So what's up? I haven't seen you in a while!” You move on with a sweet grin, knocking Peter out of one daze and into another. Fortunately he's used to this one. Peter accepts the quick hug you offer before sitting at the edge of your bed, a spot he knows he's allowed to with outside clothes on.

“Nothing much, I was just here to drop off some clothes May wanted to give you.” He answers you , trying to keep from looking at you too long, before gesturing to the bag he'd placed next to your bed when you walked in. Your eyes widen with intrigue while you reach for the bag. You've been close with Peter's aunt for a while now, hitting it off with her the first time you'd stopped by Peter's Apartment with him. You complimented her outfit the last time you saw her, and since then she's been sending you things she thinks you could fit from her closet.

“Ooh! Can you tell her I said thank you? I don't have her number.” You ask him cheerfully while pulling out a cute, cropped sweater. You're messing with the collar, and Peter can't help but smile softly, his shoulders finally relaxing. Whenever you went on long missions, his waiting for your return date was one part simping, yeah, but the rest of it was hoping you'd come back safe. So, seeing you back at home, smiling and unharmed, eased a tension in his chest, making him breathe easier. Peter startles when you suddenly glance up from the bag and look at him, your glasses falling down the bridge of your nose a bit. He quickly sits up and glances at your computer.

“So uh- what were you up to? Thor said something about lists.” He clears his throat and asks you, feeling his face start to flush. Fortunately you look up and over at your monitor, giving him a chance to try and cool off. While Peter is busy taking off his hoodie, you stand up and walk over to your pc.

“Oh that? I'm just putting together a new playlist for when I ride the subway. Here, come look.” You invite him over and glance back at him, only to see his shirt riding up, revealing a bit of his skin. You quickly turn away with a hand over your mouth, feeling that invisible burn start up anytime you get an eyeful of Peter's physique. The webhead is just yanking himself free of his hoodie, when you sit down so you can unplug your earphones, grateful he can't see the heat burning behind your ears.

“Really? I need to update my playlist too.” Peter finally notes as he walks over, before resting a hand on your chair and leaning over your shoulder. You don't mention it, but you can smell the cologne Tony bought him for his birthday. Blinking a few times to get yourself together, you click the mouse to skip the ad playing on your screen.

“I'm thinking of adding some songs from when we were younger. Some 2000s songs.” You say to distract yourself. Peter hums and leans a bit closer, startling you.

“You should try out these artists then.” He says before replacing your hand on your mouse and searching up something. All this causes him to lean further into your space, his face next to yours and his body cradling you a bit. Someone would think you've never been around a guy before with the way your heart acts up around Peter Parker. You're shaken out of your thoughts when you notice that he's calling your name. You turn to face him but pause when you notice just how close his face is to yours. Peter must've been startled by the proximity too because he falls silent.

“Sorry, what'd you say?” You ask softly, not unaware of how your lips are only inches away from his. You wonder if Peter could hear your heartbeat too, with his enhanced hearing and all. He must hear something because his throat bobs.

“I was just uh- gonna say that-.” He stutters, and Peter just knows his face is on fire, especially when you glance down at his lips. You notice his eyes scan your face one more time, locking in on something.

“You look really good in glasses.” He sighs breathlessly, feeling his eyes drift closed as the two of you move closer. Your lips just manage to brush before a booming voice almost makes you both jump out of your skin.

“Ah young love!” Thor beams from your door while you and Peter jump away from each other. Peter is busy clearing his throat loudly and you're straightening your clothes even though nothing happened. Thor just sighs fondly and leans against your door frame with crossed arms.

“Yes, I remember my first love vividly. Quite the item we were, so much so that the people said we'd-.” He recalls wistfully until Peter cuts him off.

“Sir, is there something you need?” He asks while you decide to keep your door closed from now on. Thor snaps as he recalls why he even started watching you two's moment.

“Stark has just returned from his trip, and has brought back takeout. Join us if you're not too busy.” He informs the both of you before winking and walking away, likely to tell everyone what he just saw. You and Peter just stand there in silence for a moment, processing what just happened. You peek over at the brunette the same time he glances over at you. There's things you can ask him. Like if the fact that he was about to kiss you meant that he had a crush on you too. Instead though, you bump him with your shoulder.

“So you like the way I look in glasses hm?” You tease while messing with the curls by your ear. It's definitely about time to get your hair done again. Peter immediately turns to explain himself, spiraling like always, but is stopped when you press a kiss to his lips. You pull away with a sigh leaving Peter looking at you, awestruck.

“Maybe I'll buy a few frames. Come on, let's go before Thor tells the entire tower what happened.” You say before taking Peter's hand and leading him towards the kitchen. Peter just shakes his head before biting his lip to contain his grin.

“Sounds good.” He answers you softly. The two of you talk about making a playlist together before you step into the kitchen, right into Thor telling the team about a scandalous event he just bore witness to.

A/n: This is just I fic I write to some dialogue I thought up. In the shower maybe? While brushing my teeth? Idk, but I actually remember a crush in elementary school asking about these glasses I had on one time. Thanks for reading!👓👓👓

[jadewritesficshere]

Sorta Mean!Steve x female!reader thought

Steve can be mean. Be a bit bitchy. And listen, he tries not to. Except you get all flustered when he does. Noticed how you reacted when he bitched about customers or gave Robin sass. Then he does it to you and-

You get all cute and avoid his eyes. Shift ever so slightly and clench your thighs together, fuck, he hopes it turns you on. He's had to hide how hard it makes him for awhile now.

It really is like what his mom said, about a boy pulling a girl's pigtails meaning he liked them. Steve likes how you like it. He's never mean mean, he never wants to hurt you or push you away he just...

Steve will pull your bra strap and let it snap back against your shoulder. Or wrap his arm around your shoulder and mess up you hair,, giving you a noogie. Rolls his eyes and scoffs at you. One time, when you bent just slightly over and he saw the hem of your underwear peaking out, well of course he had to tug on it. Not hard, just enough to startle you. Make you swat at him and push him away, hiding your face in your hands. Sometimes, he'll say something so bitchy and degrading and immediately go to apologize but you bite your lip. Your lashes flutter as you look away.

He realizes he basically is doing all the stuff he did back in school. Well, all the stuff Tommy and the guys did that he let happen. But he doesn't like it when it happens to others. Someone says something mean to Robin? Steve's ready to jump over the counter and fight the person. Someone pushes Dustin? He's pushing that person to the ground. He hates seeing couples in public get pushed around or mean to one another, makes him feel sick to his stomach. It's only you.

And today, coming home from work and it's hot as balls, he heard your music playing from his pool. Steve's tired but he feels a thrill run through him at the thought of seeing you, maybe pushing you in the pool (if you can swim, you can swim right?). After he changes into swimming trunks he goes outside.

And you're lounging on a float in the pool, eyes closed. You look asleep, mouth open ever so slightly. You're wearing a red bikini that makes him want to drool. He could stand for hours just watching you.

Except he forces himself to jump in the pool. The wave of his splash causes water to spray on you. You let out a startled shriek as you flail, flipping the float over and disappearing under the water. Steve grabs your arm and hoists you up, you gasping for air.

"Shit, you ok?" Steve asks, brow furrowed. "What the fuck Steve!" You slap at his arm as you swipe water out of your face. "I just thought- i mean- you weren't supposed to fall off!" Steve frowns slightly. He genuinely didn't mean for you to get scared and fall in the water, just to spray you with it.

You sigh and pout lightly at him," it's fine, I needed to cool off anyways." "You sure?" "I'm sure."

A moment of silence grows between you. It's soft and sweet, causing Steve's stomach to turn. The smile you give him, its adorable. It's too close to what if you were his- he can't think of that. Won't. Because deep down he wonders if he even deserves you since he's a bitch. So he does what he does best- pokes at you.

Steve goes to tug your strap, just like he would a bra, acting on instinct. Except this isn't a bra. This is a bikini. One that ties. And Steve was absolutely not expecting it to come undone. He sees a flash of skin, just a tad more then normal as the top falls.

Then you're both shrieking. Steve flails, immediately letting go of the top and covering his eyes. He isn't sure what you do, probably cover your bare- fuck he shouldn't think of that. "I'M SORRY I'M SORRY!" Steve keeps repeating it back to back.

"Steve," is all you get and he's just rambling, " I am so fucking sorry, I thought it would be like your bra and just snap back and fuck I didn't mean to just expose you oh my god I'm so sorry jesus-" "Steve." "Fuck, I'm sorry this is so bad oh-"

A hand on his wrist causes him to pause. He peeks through his fingers at you. Your top is in place and you don't appear upset. "It's okay. It was an accident. Just maybe don't do that?"

Steve's nodding," Yeah- for sure." Another moment of silence for about a few seconds. "Well did they look good?" You ask cheekily. Steve groans and covers his face again

[friendlyneighborhoodslut]

The Roommate Agreement | 4-The Kids Are Alright.

Pairing(s)/Tropes—Eventual Steve Harrington X Reader, slow burn.

Summary—One night causes this unlikely group of friends to realize that they need each other more than ever, just as it’s time to say goodbye to one of their own.

Warnings/Extras—strong language, drinking, Barns Courney mentioned (IYKYK), shameless Steve and Reader flirting so bad it’ll probably make you cringe, very brief mentions of someone getting sick/throwing up. MDNI, 18+! As always let me know if I missed anything!

MASTERLIST | | PREVIOUS PART | | NEXT PART

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

Switching bedrooms is much easier than moving out of the dorm. We decide to make it a weekend activity, and the hardest part is moving the beds around, which Ben and Steve do for me. Eddie helps me transport boxes of books and school supplies to my new room while Daizy removes my things from the communal bathroom and places them in my private one. She casually pulls a box of tampons from one of the bags she's filled, placing it under the sink.

"Thank God. I hated looking at those," Eddie thinks aloud, and I'm not sure he even realizes he said anything.

"It's just a tampon, Ed. You'll be okay," Ben dismisses, gesturing for Steve to help him lift the mattress onto the bed.

Eddie sits through a box of books, placing them on a shelf, surprisingly neat by his standards. “Women are terrifying.” He mumbles to himself.

I shake my head, bending down to pick a shirt up from a pile on the floor and threading a hanger through it.

Ben sifts through a pile of blankets in the corner, fishing out a set of sheets to roll into a tight ball. He chucks them at Steve, who barely catches the lump of cloth in time.

“Holy shit. You read comics?” Eddie’s excitement breaks the silence. We crane our necks to see him waving a comic in front of his face. Archie and the History of Electronics—somehow still in pristine condition since my grandparents gave it to me in 2001—sits slotted between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Careful, some of those are older than us,” I scold, snatching the comic from him. I plop down next to him on the floor, thumbing through Archibald Andrews’ adventures. A sense of nostalgia from days of hiding in my bedroom and reading these comics overpowers me, and I commit myself to rereading the collection when I have the time.

“Couldn’t collect cooler ones, like Spider-Man or Batman?” Eddie teases, knocking my shoulder with his. “You’re such a girl.”

“I have Spider-Man comics, thank you very much,” I snort, shoving him. He makes a show of it, rolling onto his side and faking a pained groan.

“Don’t listen to him, Sunny. He’s just jealous that you can read and he can’t,” Steve teases as he and Ben put the sheets on the bed. Well, almost, as Ben struggles an unreasonable amount. Daizy pokes her head out of the bathroom when she hears Ben groan in frustration, coming to rescue him from the dastardly Sheet Monster. She bumps him out of the way with her hip and takes the sheet from his hands.

“You’re a son of a bitch, y’know that Harrington?” Eddie smirks.

The room fizzles with quiet giggles. Steve shrugs, tossing one of my pillows at Eddie. The doorbell rings, startling me because I didn’t even know we had a doorbell.

“Pizza’s here,” Daizy grins. “Ben, where’s your wallet?” She saunters out of the room, prompting Ben to follow her with a look of suspicion. I hear him say something about not trusting her with access to his credit cards and she scoffs.

Eddie stands abruptly, leaping over piles of trinkets and clothes, his footsteps clambering down the hallway.

And then there were two.

I put the comic back into the box and move to the bed, plopping down with an exhausted huff. I sink into the plush of the mattress as I run my hands through my hair. Steve laughs at me, sitting next to me.

“Tired, Sunny?” He props himself on one arm, leaning towards me just enough so I have to look up at him.

I sigh heavily, tossing my hands to my side. “You’ve got no idea,” I admit. “I wouldn’t wish a STEM major on my worst enemy, and I’ve moved twice in a month,”

He nods as he listens, glancing at the walls. Posters from concerts, polaroids of Daizy, Ben and I from years of summer vacations. A singular dream catcher hangs above my bed, and I recall being told that they get full if they don’t catch the sun. I make a mental note to check if the bay window allows for sunlight tomorrow morning.

“You’re taking it too seriously,” he says suddenly. I furrow my brows, confused, and he elaborates. “Life, I mean. You’re in such a rush to have it all figured out. It’s funny, you remind me of Ben when I met him,”

I think back to the way Ben was before Chicago. If he’s a hard ass now, he was unbearably so in his younger years. He had to have the best grades, felt the need to be the most put-together person in the room. Ben didn’t really attend high school parties and, hell, I only convinced him to go to Prom once during his Senior year. You wouldn’t catch him dead cracking a joke like he does now, and I only saw him smile when we were alone or with Daizy. He was so serious because he had to be, or at least he thought so.

Steve and I sit in comfortable quiet for a while. It’s odd, because silence has always made me uncomfortable.

“Why do you call me Sunny?” I blurt out, a surge of bravery coursing through my veins.

He looks down at me, squinting as he laughs. “Besides your positive disposition?” He remarks sarcastically. I press my palm to his chest and push, but he doesn’t budge. My fingers catch on fire and I fight the urge to ball my fist into his shirt and yank him closer to me. He sucks in a breath, pulling away to lean back. “It’s the first thing I learned about you,”

I squint and think hard, lips pursed in a duck-like expression.

He chuckles at my bewilderment, a beautiful sound that reverberates through his chest. “You only eat your eggs sunny side up. You brother told me,”

My mouth makes an ‘O’ shape as I nod. I can’t help but wonder why everyone seems to know things about me before I do. Am I really that easy to read?

“He missed you a lot, ‘specially when he first got here. Talked about you nonstop,” he puts special emphasis on the last word, like it means more that way.

I cringe. “Oh, boy. I’m sorry,”

He frowns. “Don’t be. Shit, we’d just be sitting there watching Dracula, and he’d think of you. He’d say something like, ‘did you know bats use echolocation?’ Then tell us he only knew that ‘cause you told him,” he’s grinning like an idiot, and I can tell it’s a fond memory of his.

I smile, too. “Never thought he ever listened to what I said,” I admit. “Never thought anyone did, honestly,”

His eyes widen and he stills, staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. I tilt my head at him, watching him tantalizingly as he scoots closer to me. Our sides brush as he leans in to murmur, “You, Y/N L/N, are a joy to listen to. I’ll listen to you talk all day, any day.”

The way his voice reverberates in that deep octave makes my stomach flip. I’m sucked into his puppy dog hazel eyes as he stares at me like, dare I say, I’m the only thing worth looking at.

I open my mouth to say something, but I’m crudely interrupted.

“You assholes better not be making out in there!” Eddie’s voice works in tandem with his heavy footsteps that bang down the hall, rapidly approaching.

Steve huffs, breath smelling of spearmint, as he rolls over onto his back. He digs his fingers into his hair, pulling at the roots. “Yeah, Ed. We’re totally making out,” he’s joking, but doesn’t sound amused.

Eddie ambushes us, turning the corner and leaning so far forward into the doorway that he nearly falls on his face. He’s got something hidden behind his back and I flinch, bracing for him to throw something at us. “Cute. Can I join?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Gross!” I gag, sticking my tongue out.

There’s light shuffling in the living room, the sounds of records slipping from vinyl covers and into the platter, the needle placed delicately on its grooves. Barns Courtney’s The Kids Are Alright sizzles through the record player, a cheap thing commandeered from Hawkins Place Thrift since we couldn’t afford a radio.

“Here, for your bravery,” Eddie tells us lowly, revealing two cans of PBR from behind his back. He tosses them to us, me first and then Steve. “Daizy’s got a bottle of tequila and a mission to make her last night a great one.”

I swallow thickly as I pop the can open. In the back of my mind I always knew my best friend’s stay here was temporary. After all, everything’s she’s got is back home. Her dad and little brother, her job at the record store, and her mom’s buried there. She’ll never leave Houston and I’ve gotta accept that. After all, I can still love her from afar.

She shouts my name down the hall. I force my smile down and hop off the bed, leaving Steve behind and brushing past Eddie. When I find her she’s already on the couch, bottle of Casamigos in hand and using it as a microphone as she belts out Barns Courtney lyrics. I turn to Ben, who gives me a disengaged shrug as he displays the array of pizza boxes. Daizy reaches down to me, grabbing my wrist and yanking me towards her. I fight to release myself from her capture as she seranades me.

I laugh. I knew this was her favorite song, but to see her so carelessly jump on the furniture and host a personal performance is relieving. She hasn’t looked so carefree in years, and I can’t quite put my finger on why she’s changed so much since being in Chicago. That is, until she turns to my brother and looks into his eyes, singing like a rockstar putting on their best performance. His eyes glitter in admiration as he smiles wide, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

My heart stills, a harrowing realization settling in my chest. I think they ‘like’ each other a little bit more than they let on…

I glance between them as they look at each other like they’re the only two people on the planet.

Holy shit. They’re in love with each other.

Honestly. Why am I surprised? I’ve watched them pine for each other since we were in elementary school.

Still, this complicates things.

Daizy leaves tomorrow.

I’ve got less than 24 hours to convince my brother—because let’s me honest, you can’t convince Daizy to do anything—to confess.

Eddie holds a pizza in one hand and his beer in the other, stepping onto our coffee table to duet with Daizy. I’m thankful for his inadvertent distraction so I can search for Steve. Ben yells at Eddie and Daizy to quit monkeying around on the furniture, slipping past the bar counter and not even acknowledging me as I slither into the kitchen.

Steve’s got his back turned to me, chowing down on a slice of pepperoni pizza and mumbling through bites into his phone.

“Steve.” I say seriously, grabbing his shoulder to make him face me.

He jumps, startled and squishing the pizza in his hand.

“Oh my God!” He squeaks, and I hear the person on the other end of the phone laugh. A woman.

I try not to let that bother me as I speak. “I need your help,”

“Better be pretty important to interrupt pizza night,” he tells me, waiving his now pulverized pizza slice.

The girl on the phone says something I can’t make out. I roll my eyes. “Ben’s in love with Daizy,”

Steve’s expression remains unchanged. “Yeah, I know,” he says matter-of-factly, pressing the smartphone back to his ear. “Yeah, no. I’m just talking to Sunny,” he says into the device.

“Steven this is serious,” I flick his shoulder and he winces. “Who are you talking to anyways?”

“Ow! You bully,” He complains. “I’m talking to Robin, Vickie problems,”

“What makes you qualified to discern girlfriend problems?” I test, folding my arms over my chest.

“I’m great with women, thank you very much,” he says, offended.

I hear Robin laugh at that.

“Steve Harrington, if you don’t help me, I’ll put a red towel in your next load of laundry and dye all your work shirts pink,” I threaten.

He freezes, glaring at me. “You wouldn’t dare,”

I tilt my head. “I would,”

“I’m seriously reconsidering your nickname. Something more evil would suit you better,” he grumbles.

“You’re so dramatic. Give me that,” I snatch the phone from him, ignoring his protests as I hold it up to my ear. “Robin,”

“Are you bullying Harrington without me?” Shes trying to suppress the amusement in her tone.

“Care to join me? Bring beer and Vickie. We’ve got pizza and a plan,” I wiggle my eyebrows and Steve groans, rubbing his face to ease his anxieties.

Robin laughs on the other end. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she’s whispering to someone that I presume to be Vickie. “We’ll be there in thirty.” The line goes dead and I grin, handing Steve his phone back. He gives me a glare, shoving the device deep into his pocket.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he says it like he’s trying to be serious, but I’m not sure he’s actually capable of that.

“Oh Honey,” I shake my head. “If this stresses you out, I’m about to be your worst nightmare,”

He folds his arms, leaning back against the kitchen sink. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s blushing. Must be the shitty lighting in this apartment. “Does that mean you’ll be sticking around a while?”

I shrug. I’ve contemplated the transient life, but it was never realistic for someone like me. I’m like mud stuck to the bottom of a shoe in the sense that once I’m somewhere, I don’t leave—not cut out for the ‘living life on the edge while traveling the world’ life, though I wish I was. “Lucky you, looks like I will.” I smirk, siping on my drink.

There’s so much more to say, along the lines of, ‘I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,’ but it sounds so cheesy no matter what way I reword it.

The record scratches as it plays a different song. Eddie jumps to turn it up. If we don’t get a noise complaint from this, it’ll be a miracle. Ben grabs Daizy by her waist, hoisting her off the furniture and onto flat ground. She pouts, and I think I make out the words ‘you’re no fun’ on her lips as she takes a swig from her bottle. Ben shakes his head and says something I can’t make out, reaching to take the bottle from her but she yanks it behind her. Eddie sneaks in, stealing the Tequila and taking a generous guzzle. I wince.

I know that doesn’t taste good.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I blink back tears at the bitter thought of it all. Just as she’s gotten used to the boys—and them accustomed to her—she’s just going to…leave? No. She needs to be here. I need her to be here.

“You okay?” Steve asks. I look at him and God, do I regret it. He’s got that stupid look on his face that’ll be my undoing: harrowing eyes and slack jaw, like he’s looking at me for the first time. Keep those fucking puppy dog eyes away from me.

It’s like I’m magnetized to him since we signed that stupid agreement. Maybe it’s the thrill of breaking the rules, or general spite. What’s the saying? When you tell someone not to do something they wanna do it more? Something like that…

Ben grabs Daizy’s hands and guides her into a poorly executed square dance, something I know he pulled straight from our middle school gym class. It's so goofy that I can't help but giggle, but I'm also just happy he's finally taking some initiative.

The front door swings open, causing me to jump.

"I brought booze and my girlfriend," Robin announces, swaying a pack of Seagrams in her hands vaguely in Vickie's direction. She makes a show of bumping my hip with hers as she sets the case of malt beverages on the counter. She moves to Steve, reaching over him without so much as an excuse me, snatching some pizza from the box.

Steve rubs his temples, mumbling something about her being a savage before sipping on his beer.

Vickie shyly sits on the beanbag chair in the corner while Robin cracks open a bottle, chugging half of it. I want to tell her to slow down, but I doubt she'd listen to me anyway. I glance at Steve and he's already watching her, shaking his head.

Robin snags my hand and begins to pull me into the living room. "C'mon, let's dance!" she giggles. I silently plead with Steve for help but he just shrugs, waving me away.

I'll forever remember this betrayal, I try to communicate telepathically. He laughs about something and for a split second, I wonder if I've got some sort of superpower I didn't know about until now.

"Rob, I don't know how to dance!" I protest, but she ignores me.

"Come here Big Boy," Eddie chants, hopping off the table and crossing the tiny apartment in one fluid motion.

"Get away from me," Steve says it like he's serious, but the front he puts up is shattered by how his sentence ends in a stutter. He allows his friend to guide him, and now the lot of us cram into our itty-bitty living room and dance--badly--to poorly played records.

An hour of screwing around and getting progressively drunker leads me to rope Robin, Vickie, and, regrettably, Eddie, into my Evil Genius plan. I only regret it because Eddie couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it, and he couldn't make our plot more obvious. He suggests we play spin the bottle, demanding that Daizy and Ben sit across from one another to "maximize fairness" as he snags an empty bottle from the counter. I count myself lucky that Daizy's been force-feeding my brother shots all night, or he'd have caught wind of what we were trying to do and I'd be subjected to his wrath.

I sit next to Daizy, Robin sits next to me, and Vickie beside her. Steve and Ben sit shoulder to shoulder, whispering and boyishly giggling over something I can't hear. Eddie takes a seat next to Steve.

Eddie goes first--because of course, he does--and his bottle lands on Vickie. She looks terrified and he puts his hands up in surrender.

"Ah it's okay sweetheart," he sighs as he crawls towards her, stumbling and nearly knocking over Steve's beer. "I don't bite." Eddie finishes, planting an obnoxiously loud smooch to the side of Vickie's head. There's some laughter and some teasing as her face beams bright red, and Eddie seems proud of himself.

It's Steve's turn, but as I observe the color drain from his face, he stands abruptly. “I’ll be right back,” he ushers as he disappears down the hall.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, boo! You coward!”

“My turn,” Ben is far too quick to grab all the attention in the room. I eye him suspiciously and he catches my gaze, shaking his head. It’s a warning, a caution telling me to drop it, though I’ve never been one to listen. I take another swig of my beer.

“Y’know, when we met, he’d have never passed up a casual game of getting drunk and making out,” Eddie titters, crushing an empty beer can in his hands.

Ben’s shoulders tense, and if looks could kill, Eddie’d be dead on the spot. But Eddie, none the wiser, rocks from side-to-side on his crisscrossed legs.

“Yeah, but that was a million years ago. King Steve’s an old fart now,” Robin hiccups.

“King Steve?” I scrunch my face up at the cringey nickname, and I wonder what someone’s got to do to earn such a title.

“Oh yeah. Dude was a total slut. Conquered the entire cheerleading team in one summer—“

“Alright, alright! You’re gonna make me throw up,” Ben complains, spinning the bottle. Some forgiving God must be on my side tonight, because it lands on Daizy. He shrugs nonchalantly, leaning on his knees as he scoots closer to her. “A deal’s a deal,” he tells her and she giggles, looping her fingers behind his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

It starts to get uncomfortable when they begin to drunkenly make out, right in front of all of us.

“Let me get in on that,” Eddie whistles, jokingly, and Ben pulls away to scowl. Daizy is quick to abandon him, sitting back down.

“Dude!” Ben complains. No one takes him seriously, bursting into drunken laughter, but I’m not laughing. I’m watching my brother, the pitiful look on his face making me instantly regret meddling in his love life. While everyone delves into a deep dive into other topics, Ben stares at something on his phone, brightness down but I can still see the blue light illuminating his contorted features. He’s focused, upset. I pretend to be listening to Eddie talk about his band that he formed in his teenage years, keeping my peripherals on my brother. When he eventually stands, slipping into the hallway like Steve did, I make an excuse about needing to use the restroom and follow him.

Clutching a beer bottle so tight in my hand that it might shatter, I tiptoe down the hall until I reach Steve’s bedroom, across the hall from mine. The light is on and I can faintly hear them talking about something.

I’m about to press my ear to the door but I catch myself, rolling my eyes at my own stupidity. I’ve never been accused of minding my own business, that’s for sure. Whatever’s going on, it’s clearly none of my concern. If it was, they’d have told me. I force myself to return to the living room, snatching another beer from the kitchen on my way. The circle is not really a circle anymore, more of an indistinguishable, round-adjacent shape.

“Well, shit. We’re down two people,” Daizy slurs. “Should we continue without them?”

I shrug, sipping on my drink. She gives me a shit eating grin, leaning forward and giving the bottle a spin. It lands on Robin and they both laugh uncontrollably, as Daizy makes a show of standing up on wobbly legs. She sashays. “M’lady,” she announces, holding her arm out. Robin snorts, clasping her hand on top of Daizy’s and using her to balance as she stands. They share a brief platonic peck on the lips.

Eddie stares at them, awestruck. I furrow my brows and crumple up a discarded beer can, tossing it at him to break his stare. He flinches, looking around as if he’s forgotten where he is. He takes note of my laughter, narrowing his eyes at me. “Freak,” I whisper-laugh.

“Edward, where’s your boyfriend?” Daizy turns to him. “It’s his turn,”

He seems confused, staring off into the abyss as the gears turn in his head. Suddenly, it’s like a light’s been turned on. “Oh! Steve? Shit…I got no idea, actually.”

“I’m right here, and I’m not his boyfriend. Actually been trying to get rid of him since he was abandoned at my doorstep, but no one will take him,” Steve interjects, taking a seat next to Eddie and roughing up his hair. Eddie’s expression twists with offense, shoving Steve by the shoulder playfully.

Daizy settles back into her place, while Ben is still nowhere to be found.

“Your turn, Harrington,” Eddie teases, patting his friend’s back hard.

Steve rolls his eyes, reaching for the bottle. “This is juvenile,” he murmurs. The bottle spins and spins, choosing his fate very carefully. The suspense is killing us, as the six of us staring down as this bottle makes a show of spinning halphazard circles. Slowly, but finally, the bottle stops, pointing indiscreetly at…

Me.

Oh fuck.

I think my insides just turned inside out.

There’s whistles and hollers amongst the group, while I secretly shrivel up and die inside. It’s not that I don’t want to kiss Steve. Quite the contrary. In any other situation I would in a heartbeat. If he was some random, beautiful stranger I’d met by chance, I’d allow that fire in my stomach to guide me without a fear of consequences.

But this isn’t chance but a cruel twist of Fate, and what a hateful bitch she can be.

Our precise circumstances complicate everything; we live together. With my brother, his best friend, who would kill him if—

“Are you two gonna stare at each other forever or are you gonna kiss?” Eddie broaches.

I realize then that I’ve been staring at Steve, and him at me. I wonder if we��re thinking the same thing. I question which one of us is panicking more. Steve’s got that goddamn look on his face again—the one that makes him look so innocent but you can tell he’s hiding something. All knitted brows and hard features, but I can tell my the way his lips tug upward that he’s a smug bastard about all of this.

“I can’t—“ Steve begins, but he’s interrupted. He looks almost thankful.

“They better fucking NOT,” Ben seemingly materializes out of thin air, and I magically find myself grateful for his helicopter-style brothering. I let out a breath I had no idea I was holding, lungs collapsing at the lack of oxygen. I just can’t seem to get another breath in, my chest burning and my hands sweaty. “Seriously, Munson? You know the rules,”

“Party Pooper,..” Daizy complains, closing her eyes as her head lulls backward to rest on the couch. Her skin is shiny with sweat and her lips lose their color.

“Hey… Daizy?” Eddie asks worriedly, shaking her shoulder.

Recognizing the signs that she’s overdone it—again—I lunge for her and catch her head just as it begins to fall.

“Oh shit,” I exasperate. I look to Eddie, him being the closest person to me. “She’s gonna get sick. Help me get her to my bathroom,”

“How do you know that?” He wonders.

“Just shut up and help me.” I groan, lifting her up. He obliges, picking her up out of my grasp in one fluid sweep. We breach the door of my bedroom just as she begins to gag. Eddie pushes the bathroom door open with his back, setting her down in front of the toilet so she can expel the contents in her stomach. I pull her hair back and tie it with a ponytail on my wrist while soothing her quietly.

Eddie gags, moving to lean against the bathroom vanity.

“Don’t you dare throw up in here,” I threaten, still rubbing Daizy’s back. He holds his finger up in a ‘hold on’ motion, dashing out of the room. I roll my eyes.

Once my best friend’s emptied her insides, she throws herself backwards, forehead glistening with sweat as she leans against the tub. “I think I’m dying,” she slurs, eyes closed. Her mascara streaks her tan cheeks, mixing with glittery eyeshadow that makes it look like she’s crying sparkles. It’s funny, because if anyone were to cry glitter, it’d be Daizy Aguado.

“You’re not dying, you’re drunk,” I sigh, flushing the toilet.

“No, you,” she counters. Yeah, me too. I don’t respond to her, sliding my arm under hers and heaving her upward. We’ve been in this situation more times than I can count, both with her and myself being the bastardly drunk one. It’s like a silent contest for us; who’s to get liver failure first? It’s looking like Daizy’s in the lead for now.

I maneuver her to my bed and she flops down heavily onto it, wrapping herself in every blanket she can get her hands on. I do my best not to laugh at her, but it’s impossible when she’s got herself rolled into my comforter like a burrito.

“Bug,” she says suddenly, like it’s important.

“Yeah?” I inquire, sliding under the covers next to her.

“I love you.” She lulls, turning away from me.

I snort, faintly, and I pray she doesn’t hear it. “I love you too,” I carefully cover her face with a blanket. I sleep with a lamp on because I’m secretly petrified of the dark, but she can’t sleep with light on her face, and there’s no way in hell I’m wrestling her sleep mask onto her eyes right now. “Go to bed, you drunk idiot.” I whisper. She sinks further into the mattress and I watch her, waiting for her to shoot awake and throw up all over me. She begins to lightly snore and I breathe a sigh of relief, settling into the bed myself.

My head spins, a concoction of exhaustion and alcoholism. I count myself lucky, because even though I’ll wake up hungover, at least I won’t be nearly as much so as Daizy.

I try not to think about how awkward it’ll be to face Steve in the morning after nearly being forced to kiss him—and I really try not to think about the fact I actually wanted to do it.

I grapple with sleep, listening to the faint voices and laughter of the boys, Robin and Vickie in the living room. Their presence soothes my anxiety, as I slip into a peaceful sleep.

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

**Free cheers, it’s finally done!

I’ve been working 50 hrs a week and have had no time to write.

I’m so sorry!

Wanna be tagged? Just ask! **

Taglist—

@g3n3zshack @rawrxbexjealous @melalsworld @adaydreamaway30 @tiptoebabe @micheledawn1975 @crispystarfishhottub @spookysace24 @thehairington86 @cuddlyklaus @mmmunson @pleasantsoulcolor

[tldrthor]

Come find me - peter parker x avenger!female!reader

Part two to promises, oceans deep // we both did the best we could do underneath the same moon, and in different galaxies // based on the song 'Peter' by Taylor Swift

Summary: you thought you would get over him, but you never did. It takes getting hurt, and Cap looking out for you, for you to finally get your head straight.

Author's notes: I ignore a lot of post-endgame stuff. Steve never left, Wanda isn't evil, Peter was never forgotten. I've left reader and Peter's ages semi-ambiguous, so you can decide for yourself what age you think is appropriate!

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

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Peter opened his eyes slowly, the light streaming in from the window attacking them. He must have fallen asleep without closing the curtains last night. As he came to, he realised what day it was. And a chill ran through his body.

"Peter!" May called. "Peter, get up! We're going to be late!" She rushed into the room, her nose curling up in disgust at presumably, the smell of depressed teenage boy. "God, we have to open a window in here. It's toxic."

He huffed, and rolled away from her. "May, I don't want to go." He had spoken about this with her already. He knew that Ned and MJ were going, but he didn't want to. He couldn't go, when she wasn't going to be there.

"Is it because of (y/n)?" May's voice was soft, gentle. Like she was talking to a scared, little animal. He hated the pity laced in her words. "I'm sorry she's not going to be there sweetheart, you know she's got a lot going on with rebuilding the Avengers."

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

He swallowed, sadness crossing his face, but May didn't see it. "She's avoiding me, anyways."

Words from the mouths of babes, promises, oceans deep. But never to keep. Oh, never to keep.

May didn't say anything to Peter, but she thought it was for the best. She knew how devastating it was, for both of you, to come back to see one of you had kept moving, while the other stayed in place. She saw, in the few weeks following the battle at the compound, how you looked like you was going to be sick every time you were around Peter.

She saw how you barely talked, barely smiled, barely did anything.

She hadn't been around for the five long years between the snaps, but from what she talked about with Captain Rogers, you had taken the losses particularly badly.

Snapping back to the present, she looked at Peter and wondered if you would ever find your way back to one another. She made a mental note to ask Steve how you were doing when she saw him later.

"Let's go, come on." She held his shoulder and gave it a shake. "Your parent's would've killed me if I ever let you skip your graduation."

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

The day was a blur. MJ and Ned gave him a hug on arrival, knowing that he didn't want to be here. All he could feel was the loss sitting heavy on his chest. Tony wasn't here. Natasha wasn't here. His parents weren't here. Uncle Ben. You.

There were photos and smiles and drinks. He forced himself to get through it, for May, if nothing else.

Steve gave him a big hug as soon as he saw him, knowing that he was a poor replacement for who Peter really wanted to see. "Hey! Congratulations, Pete!" He gave him a signature pat on the shoulder as Peter muttered a 'thanks, cap' back at him. Steve continued; "(y/n) sends her regards, she's sorry she couldn't come."

Peter bitterly thought that Steve was just telling him what he wanted to hear. He knew that if you wanted to be here, you would have made it happen. He wanted to be mad... but he knew this day would be too painful for you, too.

I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn. As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return.

At dinner, he was distracted. MJ and Ned were talking about the latest political news -- MJ talked about some senators voting record, while Ned relayed funny memes he had found on instagram about her. This obviously descended into chaos.

Peter was more interested in the conversation going on at the other end of the table, between May and Steve.

"So tell me, how is (y/n)?" May asked, looking at your guardian.

He looked almost... resigned. He breathed out, worry lines creasing his forehead. Peter could nearly feel the worry radiating off of him. "She's doing... okay. She's throwing herself into work at the moment, somewhere in Europe. It's all tightly under wraps, but she's an amazing agent these days."

May smiled, weakly. She knew that an avenger 'throwing themselves into work' was a worrying symptom of an emotional storm. She could see it in her own kid.

"Well, tell her we were asking for her when you talk to her next."

"I will. Thanks, May."

Peter had to know more. It was like a burning, aching in his chest. He watched as Steve silently ate his pasta, something - you - on his mind. He knew Steve hadn't said everything to May. Peter longed for the days where he would've known what you were up to.

"Pete, will you tell him to not infantilise politicians!" MJ finally snapped him out of it. Ned laughed at her outburst.

Peter snapped his head back to them. "Yeah, yeah. Ned, it's like... not good for democracy. Or whatever." He felt bad actually, because it was a good point. He just didn't have the energy to back her up right now.

"Ugh! They are employed for us." She groaned.

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

Peter's back was aching. He stretched it out, trying to power through the ache that came with changing position. Shit, he looked at the clock. It was 3am, and he had been sitting working on this assignment for way, way longer than he anticipated.

Just as he stood up to get ready for bed, his phone flashed, illuminating the room.

"What. the. hell." He said to no one. It was a text from you. God, he hadn't even seen you in more than a year now. Whenever you returned from the top-secret missions you were sent on, you were always mysteriously busy whenever Pete was free, or around. He knew you stayed at Cap's new townhouse in Brooklyn with him, but every time Peter went around, you had always just left. And every single time, Steve gave him a pitying smile while informing him that you had really urgent business to return to, but you were really sorry to miss him.

Are you up?

The text message read. Peter felt like he went through all the stages of grief reading it. He opened it immediately, cursing and praying to Jesus that he didn't have read receipts on. He hurriedly swiped off the message app when the typing bubble came up again.

Not a booty call, I promise.

He almost laughed at that. Almost.

Yeah, are you okay? He replied.

As soon as he had sent it, there was a tap tap tap at the window. He froze for a moment, his heart beat reaching an almost crescendo.

And then, he was moving.

He ripped back the curtain, threw open the window. And there you were. Hunched in the darkness of the fire escape, in a way that immediately, Peter knew something was wrong.

"(y/n)? What are you doing - are you hurt?" He watched as you moved at a near snail's pace from the way you were uncomfortably slumped on the fire escape to enter his room.

The light barely lit up the soft, painful smile as you looked up at him. "Hi, Pete." There was almost a slur in your words. Peter's eyebrows knitted together in both confusion and concern. His arms found your waist as he supported you in moving in through the window and to his bed.

Once you were settled, he strode across the room and flicked the small lamp on. He did not like what he saw.

Although your suit was black, he could tell that it was nearly soaked through with blood. Your nose was trickling blood steadily, and there was a large patch of crimson next to your ear, on your hairline. The skin he could see was littered with bruises even where it wasn't streaked with blood.

"Shit, (y/n)." He dove under his bed, to where he kept the first aid stuff from when he went out patrolling. He ran his hands through it, quickly finding suture material and bandages.

Thank god he had restocked recently, or you could've been in serious trouble. To be honest, you were in trouble either way.

He tried to triage your wounds. From what he could tell, the gash on your side that you were holding seemed to be where a lot of the blood on your torso was coming from. "You're, uhh... going to have to take off your suit, so I can see the damage."

He flushed as he said it. And he swore that he could see your face getting warmer, too. But he was so preoccupied on, you know, not letting you die, that he didn't properly register it.

"Sure, yeah." You reached your arm around to the zip, but as you moved your wounds screamed in pain. You hissed through your teeth and swore, quietly. You were all too aware that May was probably sleeping in the room next door, and you had to be quiet.

Peter reached out, "Let me help," He spoke under his breath. He unzipped you and you slowly shuffled off your suit, wearing some gym shorts and a sports bra underneath.

With the suit off, Peter could see exactly the kind of state you were in. Not only from the fight you had obviously been in, but you also looked unhealthy, almost weak. He remembered a you that always looked so strong, sturdy. This wasn't the person he was seeing in front of him now.

There were scars that were recent but clearly had begun to heal, there was bruises over every part of your body. The biggest gash on your side oozed thick, maroon blood. Looking at your face, he could see that your cheekbones were nearly hollow, your eyes sunken, and the bags under them unmistakeable.

Nothing like the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed teenager he used to love.

"What happened?" He looked into your eyes as he began to tend to the wounds. Which was difficult, considering you were more wound than human at this point. He cleaned up around you gash, and then muttered 'this is going to hurt' as he began to exhibit the skills you had learned from Steve's mandatory 'basic field medicine' course a few years back.

"Ow, fuck." You mumbled, your voice strained. "I got into a fight."

"Well, yeah. I had actually figured that one out." He didn't look at you for concentrating on stitching. "A little more explanation would be good."

You breathed out slowly through the pain. "Okay, I got into a big fight."

He rolled his eyes. He clearly wasn't going to get very much information from you.

"Was it a mission?" He asked.

"No, it was - jesus." You cursed once again. It was really hard to talk while someone was continuously piercing a needle into your abdomen. "Extracurricular, you could say."

He looked up. "(y/n), this doesn't look like just a quick neighbourhood patrol." He knew you were keeping information from him because you thought he wouldn't approve.

"Why did you come here?"

You broke his eye contact. "I was nearby, and Brooklyn is a hell of a trek when you can't swing through the city." He nodded, it was a logical answer. He would always welcome you here, no matter what happened between you guys personally. He was glad you seemed to know that. "And... Cap can't know about this."

Peter's concern seemed to grow with everything you said, and you could clearly see it on his face.

"Please, Peter... He's worried already, I know it. And he's semi-retired, he deserves to rest without worrying about me." You pleaded.

He was slow to accept what you were saying. "But he's practically your dad, (y/n), he raised you. You don't think he would want to know that you're injured? Badly injured, might I add. I don't think this is even something our medical training can cover..."

You raised an eyebrow. "So, you tell Aunt May every time you get hurt?"

"Well, I've not been hurt as badly as you have."

"And if you were, you would tell her?"

He broke eye contact, and looked away. You didn't have to acknowledge out loud that he knew you were right.

With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you learned. 'Cause loves never lost when perspective is earned.

The silence that hung in the air was an awkward one. It suddenly caught up to you both, what was happening. Sitting in your shorts and sports bra, on the boy you used to date's bed. The same boy you had successfully managed to avoid for the best part of a year -- with the exception of Steve's christmas party last year. Just thinking about the awkward, heart-achy small talk made a shiver roll down your spine.

"Do you want to stay here?"

The question felt loaded. Want? Need? The lines were blurred.

"If... that's okay? I can't go back to Steve's like this."

He nodded. "You know you're always welcome here. You take the bottom bunk, obviously.” He smiled.

These bunk beds used to annoy the hell out of the both of you. You just wanted to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, but May and Cap had insisted that if you were going to stay round, it had to be bunk beds. And the door had to stay open.

The nostalgia made your eyes sting. It didn’t take a lot to do that these days, to be fair.

Peter jumped into the top bunk, and switched the light off. “Goodnight, (y/n).” He whispered, softly, to the darkness.

“Night, Pete.” You muttered in return.

———————————————————————

That night was the best sleep you’ve had since… hell, you couldn’t even remember when. It was probably the blood loss, or…

No, it was definitely the blood loss. For sure.

A sweet scent caught your attention as you adjusted your eyes to the sunlight filtering through the moth-eaten curtains. And the noise… music, clanging of pots, mumbling.

You checked your phone. “Well, shit.”

7.24am. 38 missed calls from “Cap 🦅🫡”.

There were texts as well.

2am: Everything okay? When should I expect you back?

2.24am: Sweetheart?

3.46am: (y/n), I’m getting worried, what’s going on?

4am: Okay, stop playing now. Call me.

6am: You’re in big trouble if this isn’t an emergency, kid.

Shit, shit, shit.

You jolted up, immediately letting out a yelp of pain as you remembered exactly why you were here in the first place. Fuck.

You pressed your hand to your stomach, with a little blood coming away with your hand. Shoddy workmanship, you laughed. You would have to sort it later.

Pulling on your suit from yesterday - thankfully, the blood stains blended in with the dark material - you realised getting home inconspicuously wasn’t going to be super easy. You listened to whatever was going on in the kitchen, the music that you recognised from when you and Peter were together. It all felt so familiar. Too familiar.

And you said you’d come and get me but you were 25, and the shelf life of those fantasies had expired. Lost to the lost boys chapter of your life, Forgive me Peter, please know that I tried to hold on, to the days where you were mine.

You weren’t proud of it, but you opened the window, and climbed out.

You didn’t see Peter’s face fall when he returned to the room, with a stack of pancakes in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. You didn’t see him stare at the smiley face made of whipped cream, mutter “I’m an idiot” and throw the stack away.

You didn’t see the tears fall.

———————————————————————

The aches and pains that pulsed through your body only grew worse the closer you got to Cap’s house. Climbing the stairs felt like a mammoth task, but as you got to the top and put your key in, the door opened -

He was mad mad. You stood in a sort of pseudo-staring contest for what felt like a long time, unsure whether or not it would be appropriate to look away. His eyebrows were furrowed further than you had ever seen, bags under his eyes larger than they had been for a long time.

“Get inside.” He borderline hissed at you. You didn’t respond, just walked. Slowly, subconsciously covering your bleeding side with your arm.

As you walked into the living room, familiar voices greeted you.

“What time do you call this?” Bucky stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed.

Sam sat on the couch in front of him, nursing a cup of coffee. Coffee so strong, you could smell it from the other side of the room. “You look like shit.”

You looked down. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

Steve put a firm hand on your shoulder. Still wordless. He pushed you towards the couch, and then down onto it.

He sat next to Sam on the one opposite, Bucky moving to sit on the other side of him. It felt like a judging panel. You supposed that’s exactly what it was.

“Explain.” Steve started. His gaze not becoming any kinder as he looked at you.

“I was with a friend-” You started.

“Which one?” Steve asked, pointedly.

You swallowed. “Um,”

“You’re lying, (y/n).” He folded his arms and leaned back. “I phoned all of your friends, you weren’t with any of them. You said to Sam after training yesterday that you were heading straight home, and here you waltz in nearly 12 hours later. Tell the truth.”

“Fine.” You sighed. You knew he was telling the truth, there was no point trying to call his bluff. “I was at Peter’s.”

You watched every one of them raise an eyebrow at the same time, nearly comedically timed. Steve sat forward in his seat.

“Parker’s? Why?” He tilted his head at you. You were glad that the anger seemed to have somewhat subsided, but you weren’t in the clear yet.

You swallowed. “I, uh…”

Sam started laughing. “Oh my god, (y/n)… you dog!” He looked at Bucky and Steve, who painfully slowly caught on to what he was referring to.

“No! No, no. No. Not that, it wasn’t like that.” You felt the heat in your cheeks and prayed that it wasn’t showing to them too, although something in Sam’s gleeful expression, Steve’s embarrassed blush and Bucky’s quiet enjoyment of the situation suggested otherwise.

“(y/n), I’m at a loss right now.” Steve shook his head. “I don’t understand. Lately, you’ve been disappearing, being secretive - I mean, last I heard you didn’t want to be around Pete at all. And now you stayed at his with no explanation whatsoever, when we were all out looking for you last night?”

Your heart sank, thinking of them worried and out on the streets looking for you. You never could lie to them for long - you should just come clean.

You gave a big sigh. “I got hurt while trying to stop a robbery in Queens, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

With that, they all sat up straight. Grim expressions replaced the more relaxed ones that you had fought so hard to keep.

“Hurt? Where?” Steve immediately stood up from his spot and marched over to your couch, scanning you over with his eyes.

You pulled your hand away from the side, where it had stayed for the duration of this interrogation. It was covered in blood.

All three men immediately jumped into action upon seeing the blood. "Woah!" Sam shouted, running for the extensive medical kit Steve kept in the kitchen.

Steve knitted his eyebrows together while putting his arm around you, looking into your eyes, presumably looking for any sort of concussion or mental delay. "You've been sitting here bleeding this whole time?" He sighed, and then sort of mumbled under his breath, "What is going on with you?"

Bucky grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and brought it over to you. "Drink it, you need sugar." You could tell from his tone that he was annoyed.

"Thanks, Buck." You whispered in return.

You watched your adoptive father's worried expression as he looked at the wounds you had sustained, and the haphazard stitches that Peter had put in last night (and the blood coming through them where they hadn't been done properly).

He fixed you, properly, and bandaged the stitches just to be sure. Sam and Bucky hand him things, making jokes occasionally that you smile at, but it does nothing to improve the cloudy look in Steve's eyes.

"Guys, can you give us a second." He ushers Bucky and Sam out of the room. Sam gets up and leads Bucky away, who still looked furious. You knew he probably wasn't this pissed off at you, and rather the people who had hurt you, but you couldn't be entirely sure. Once you're alone, Cap comes and sits next to you on the couch. "Do you have wounds anywhere else?"

You shake your head. "Just bruises and minor cuts, nothing big."

"Okay," He pursed his lips. "Let's talk then."

You avoided meeting his eyes.

"Tell me what's going on, in there." He tapped the side of your head, just like he used to do when you were a teenager at the Compound upstate. Before everyone came back.

You sighed. "I feel like an asshole." He put a friendly hand on your shoulder. "I'm really sorry for worrying you, and Sam and Bucky. I'm trying not to do that, at all. That's why I didn't come back last night."

He sighs. "Sweetheart, you should never be worrying about me. It's my job to worry about you." He puts a loving arm round your shoulder.

He took a second, considering what he was going to say before continuing, "You've not been the same since the Blip, and I know it's hard. But you have to start living again." It was nothing he hadn't said before.

"But I don't really... have anything other than work. Keeping people safe."

"Hey, hey. That's not true. You have us. You know we're your family."

"Yeah, no... I know. But I just... my friends were all blipped, and Peter..." You felt a tear spring to your eye. It had been a while since you had cried about it. "I've not felt normal since they left, and then when they came back... and I was so much older."

He rubbed your back as he watched a single tear fall.

"(y/n), Peter is older now, too. And I know he never got over you, either... why don't you talk to him?"

"I think I might have burned the bridge, Cap. I snuck out the window this morning while I think he was making breakfast."

He gave you a disapproving look that made you feel like a child being scolded. "That's not very nice, kid. I think you should chat to him."

"Yeah, I guess so." You moved to get up from the couch, but sat right back down when a shooting pain radiated up nearly your entire body. "Shit."

"Hey, hey! Sit down!" Steve pushed you back down. "On second thoughts, why don't you invite him and May round for dinner? You're not going anywhere, kid."

"Yeah, that sounds better." You laughed, meekly. "Although I have to shower..."

"I'll call Wanda to help you out with that." His quick, embarrassed tone made you laugh.

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

"Hey, there she is!" Sam shouted as you walked back into the kitchen where they were diligently making dinner. Wanda walked past you to the fridge, pulling out a soda. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Better, thanks Sam." He nodded in approval at your response.

"You look better, you know that. You looked like death warmed up earlier, and that's not even an exaggeration." You rolled your eyes at him, "You've even managed to dress nice for the occasion! It's been a while since I've seen you in anything but sweats." You pushed his shoulder, stopping the incessant chatter.

Bucky threw an arm around your shoulder. "You're a chip off the old block, y'know. Just like Stevie." You watched as it was Steve's turn to roll his eyes at his friend's antics.

The doorbell rang through the house, ending the moment. Your heart thudded in your chest, a wave of nausea overtaking your stomach. "That'll be May and Peter, I'll grab the door." Steve gave you a knowing look, like he could read your mind. "Are you going to be okay?"

You nodded, slowly, taking deep breaths. Wanda slung her arms over your shoulder, whispering "you're going to be just fine." She pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"Hi, Steve," May Parker's soothing voice carried through to the kitchen. All four of you remaining in the kitchen wandered through the hall to meet your guests.

When May's eyes fell to you, you could swear there was a tear in them. But it was gone almost as quick as you could tell. "Oh my darling girl," She wrapped you in a hug, squeezing tight. It kind of hurt, but you were desperate to not let it show. You needed this. "It's been far too long, we've missed you so much."

"I know May, I'm sorry I haven't dropped by." You apologised as she dropped the hug. She put a loving hand on your face, and smiled sweetly.

"Don't be silly, sweetie. You have nothing to apologise for." Unfortunately, she didn't know the half of what you had to apologise for.

As it came to your turn to greet Peter, your heart pounded. The others ruffled his hair, lightly bullied him over how dressed up he was. It was only a shirt and sweater, you didn't really see the problem. But Bucky and Sam were always on the lookout for ways to playfully get under spiderboy's skin.

"I think you look nice." You blurted out, almost involuntarily. Bucky and Sam smirked at your outburst, and you suddenly realised that maybe they weren't goading Peter, they were goading you.

"Uh, thanks... you look better," As it came out of his mouth, he realised that he was alluding to something you had asked him not to tell them. "Oh, um, I mean like good, you look good."

You laughed a little. "It's okay, Pete. I told them, we're good."

Steve interrupted, a firm hand on Peter's shoulder. "So, Pete. I hear you've been aiding my daughter to keep secrets from me." Peter gulped at his words. "Relax, kid. I'm just messing. Although we definitely have to improve your stitching skills because that was sloppy."

May stood, confused. "Peter, do you want to catch me up to speed here?"

"Sorry, May." Steve said. "I'll explain what these rascals have been up to." He linked arms with her and wandered towards the dining room with everyone else following. Leaving you and Peter standing in the hallway.

You finally flung your arms around Peter. "You told them?" He asked, at least a modicum of relief behind his words.

You nod. "I kind of had to, they had been out last night looking for me. I felt bad." You swallowed, and realised this was a good time to apologise. "Thank you for helping me out last night, I don't know what I would have done without you."

His arm raised to the back of his neck, as he looked away from you. "Hey, no problem. Anytime."

"I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye."

"It's... alright, (y/n). You had to get home, I understand."

"No, Peter. It was shitty of me to do that to you. I'm sorry."

He smiled, his hand moving towards yours. When he got there, he wrapped yours in his, and gave a loving squeeze. It was the most romantic contact you had had since... well, since him. You were surprised that it felt so normal.

"Let's get dinner." He whispered. You nodded in agreement.

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

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Dinner was as dinner usually is. It was delicious, clearly Steve had been cooking a lot since he took a step back from the Avengers. Sam and Bucky argued while Wanda, Steve and May talked a lot about current events. You and Peter chatted mostly about what your friends were up to, and what your plans were.

"I'm thinking of going full-time with the avengers." Peter revealed. Your eyes widened, knowing that when you were younger, that's all you had both wanted. To be fighting alongside each other, permanently.

"Peter, that's amazing!" You breathed out. "But what about college, didn't you want to go to MIT?"

"Nah," He smiled. "Changed my mind. Don't think I could do avenging and college at the same time. Plus, Tony left a bunch of science stuff behind for me to finish off, so I would have my own lab at the new facility anyway."

You couldn't help the wide grin that adorned your features. "When would you move?"

"I could move anytime. Are you um, planning to go to the new facility?" He asked.

"Yeah, I was hoping to split my time between here and there." You looked over at Steve, talking with May. He didn't need you here. You knew he would love for you to stay, but he would be just fine without you. Plus, he was only semi retired. He'd probably be at the new facility more than you. "I know Bucky and Sam are going over there full-time, that's why they're crashing here for now."

"Oh, great." He sarcastically rolled his eyes and laughed.

Your conversation was interrupted by Bucky shouting over to you, "Hey, kid! Tell everyone about the time you tripped yourself up and accidentally caught the bad guy."

"Bucky, stop telling everyone about that!"

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

"Hey, do you want to go swinging?" Peter whispered, as everyone started clearing plates.

You eyed Cap nervously, knowing that you couldn't leave without telling him, again. Not after your heart to heart earlier. There was no way he would let you swing with Peter, not with as many stitches as you had.

"Maybe just a walk?" You mentioned to Peter. He glanced down at your side, where he had seen the wound last night, and agreed.

You both got up, clearing your dishes as you went. "You ask him." You whispered to Peter while the older avengers and May were still in conversation.

"What? No, you ask him." He harshly whispered back. You rolled your eyes.

"Hey, Cap?" You got the attention of everyone still at the dining table.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Would it be okay if Peter and I went on a walk?"

"Of course, honey. But no swinging," he sternly looked at Peter. "and wear a jacket, it's cold out there."

"Aye aye, cap'n." You saluted him playfully, walking out of the room and waving to everyone. You would see them when you got back, anyways.

What you didn't hear was Steve asking Sam for Redwing to follow you, at a distance. Just in case.

You threw on a jacket and a scarf, opening the door once Peter had done the same. It was cold. It was that kind of biting, painful cold that really settled into your bones.

The walk was mostly silent at first, the street sounds filling the gap. You gasped quietly as Peter snaked his hand into yours as you wandered. The warmth was very nice, but the implication made your heart do double time.

"Where do you want to go?" He broke the silence.

Truthfully, you had no idea. You had absolutely no direction in your brain as your thoughts were smothered by the fact that you were together, holding hands.

"I don't mind, really." You responded.

"I know a place... but it requires climbing, is that okay?" He asked, once again his eyes wandering to where your wound was healing, under your clothes.

"Yeah, that's fine. Where is it?"

He walked with you for a little while longer. Once you reached a taller building, he motioned for you to hop onto his back, as you used to do.

"Be careful," You whispered in his ear. Your hot breath so close to him made his hair stand on end, goosebumps sticking up all over his skin.

He swallowed. "I've got you, don't worry."

And so, he climbed. It was quick, he was stronger now than you remembered. You felt his back muscles tense and relax under you as he flexed out his arms to pull you both up.

He set you down carefully once you got to the top, showing you the view. You wondered how he had found these places, how he always had the most extraordinary little pockets of New York that he reserved, just for you.

"It's gorgeous." You sighed, contentedly.

You could feel his eyes on you. You could tell exactly what he was thinking, without even seeing his face. His hand wrapped itself in yours, as you pulled your jacket and scarf closer around you.

"Are you cold?"

Before you could even respond, his jacket was wrapped around your shoulders. You smiled at his chivalry, drawing the jacket around you and appreciating the extra protection against the elements.

"(y/n), can we talk?" You felt his eyes on you again. You nodded at him, unable to find words as your blood pumped ferociously around your body. "I want to try again..."

Your eyes widened at his confession.

"I mean it," He continued. "I've never... I've never stopped loving you. I've spent years trying to move on, but I haven't. There's no one like you in the world. No one."

His hand lefts yours, and found your cheek. His eyes wandered over every freckle, every scar, every bruise he could see. "You are so beautiful."

You were at a loss for what to say. You had craved these words since the moment you left Clint's farm that day. You could barely hear anything anymore, as the moment melted away to just you, and him.

And so, you did what you had wanted to do for so long.

You kissed him.

As your lips connected, it took a second for him to even register what was happening. But once he did, the passion, the emotion you felt in that moment was like nothing you had ever experienced. His hands tangled in your hair, desperately drawing you towards him.

This wasn't like to loving kisses you used to pepper over each other's lips. This was need, it was animalistic. It was war and anger and heat. It was love.

When you both finally pulled away, your breath was ragged. You placed your forehead on his, your hot breath tickling each other's faces.

"I've never stopped thinking of you, Peter." You admitted. "Not for a second. I've always regretted walking away from you, hurting you like that." You screwed your eyes shut, the pain of the memories a little too much to bear.

He raised your face until your eyes met his. "It wasn't your fault. I left you behind in the snap, and you spent five years mourning me. I never blamed you for what came after, (y/n). Never."

His words soothed the pain in your chest. You had always wondered.

"I want to start fresh with you. I want to go on dates and get to know you, as you are now. I want to be normal kids..." He stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"I want that too, Pete."

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one short and sweet. "Good," He looked into your eyes, a mischievous glint in them. "Then we should probably get you home, we've got an early start tomorrow."

You raised your eyebrow in questioning.

"I'm taking you for breakfast, sunshine."