#diabetic! steve

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Diabetic Steve who is at a Dairy Queen with Robin after he went with her to an all girl punk band that’s she’s been wanting to see for years. Steve had been feeling weird all day but he didn’t want to bail at the last second because he knew that Robin would just cancel everything to take care of Steve.

(Steve would do the same for her).

Steve plops down into a booth while Robin goes to order them food. He pulls out his pod and winces when he sees his glucose level.

64 and going down. Not a good sign.

Just to be sure he pricks his finger and holy shit, he’s actually at 43. It’s at that moment, when Steve is wiping his finger with the alcohol wipe, that his phone decides to loudly beep to alert him that, “hey you’re crashing pretty hard and fast— take care of it soon!!”

Steve is rifling through his bag while Robin is already trying to rush their orders.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles to himself. “I’m out of fucking juice.”

His hands start to shake and Robin begins to freak out. Steve is always so in control of his diabetes, she’s never seen him like this. So, Robin does what any other person would do and grabs the largest blizzard she has ever seen on the online orders tray and runs over to her best friend.

“Here! Have this, I’m going to try to get you some apple juice!”

Steve just nods his head and slowly spoons some of it into his mouth.

“This tastes like shit, by the way.”

“You’re welcome, dingus. Now shut up and eat.”

The worker behind the counter comes over and starts talking to Robin after she sits in front of Steve. Steve can’t really make anything out right now since he’s trying to focus on making his hands work. But, he thinks he hears the mention of calling 911 and an ambulance.

Time passes a little slower after that. Steve somehow manages to get down enough of the ice cream that he is slowly rising again.

57 after he pricked. Thank god.

It’s at that moment that Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, walks in. He went to his best friend’s, Chrissy’s, show and needed a pick-me-up after helping her lug all of her equipment back into their vehicle.

He goes over to the online orders tray and it’s empty. He doesn’t really mind waiting. He walks over to the counter and sees that the worker is extremely frantic as she sorts some shit out.

“Hey,” he starts, his fingers tapping the fake granite counter top. “Just checking, I’m here to pick up an order for Edmundo and it’s not on the tray. Do you know when it will be ready?” He flashes an awkward smile and the worker just points to the table behind him.

“We’re working on it. Your nightmare of a blizzard was needed for something else. Give us five minutes.”

Eddie nods and slowly turned around, where he sees the most gorgeous man eating his blizzard. Reluctantly, he might add. The man has on a light pink t-shirt and brown corduroy pants, thick lensed glasses sliding down his nose. The woman across from him was clad in funky colors and had a dirty blonde bob. She was talking extremely fast and gesturing with her hands a bunch.

Chrissy would love her.

He walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder.

“How’s my blizzard?”

He slowly looks up and Eddie is met with honey brown eyes and beauty marks for days. A straight nose and an angular jawline. Jesus Christ.

The woman looks like she’s about to say something, but the guy beats her to it. “It tastes like if a unicorn threw up in my mouth, but it prevented me from passing out. So… thanks.” He smiles. “I’m Steve.”

Eddie needs to become Steve’s husband immediately.

“And I’m in love.” He pauses and then sees the look of glee on Steve’s face. “EDDIE. My name is Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you Eddie. Are you free tomorrow?”

[allthingssteddie]

Eddie's eyes would light up every time Steve walked into the room, a small cooler in hand. It was a routine they'd developed over the months, ever since Eddie revealed he had diabetes. Steve would show up, insulin shots at ready, and Eddie's heart would skip a beat.

As a kid, Eddie had to fend for himself His parents would leave him alone most nights, chasing their next high, while Eddie survived on junk food . It wasn't until he got really sick that he realized how much he'd been neglecting his own well being.

Steve, on the other hand, had taken it upon himself to ensure Eddie's health . He'd show up every day, bearing gifts of fresh fruit and homemade sandwiches. He'd help Eddie with his shots, his touch gentle and reassuring.

As Steve shot the insulin, Eddie couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest. It wasn't just the pain of the needle that made him wince; it was the way Steve's fingers brushed against his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

After the shot, Steve would place a band aid over the tiny wound, his lips brushing against Eddie's skin in a gentle kiss. Eddie's heart would skip a beat as he gazed up at Steve, feeling like he was melting into those warm, brown eyes.

"You're doing great, Eddie," Steve would whisper his voice low and soothing. "You're strong, and you're brave."

Eddie would nod, feeling a lump form in his throat. He'd never felt this way about anyone before. It was as if Steve had seen into the deepest, darkest corners of his heart and had decided to stay.

As the months went by eddie grew to rely on Steve more and more. He'd wait anxiously for his daily visits, his heart racing with excitement. And when Steve was near, Eddie felt like he could conquer the world.

Little did he know, Steve felt the same way.

[jadewritesficshere]

Anniversary

Steve Harrington x female!reader

You and Steve celebrate your one year anniversary.

Warnings: pet names (Honey), p in v, creampie, cum play, breeding kink (not really but I'm adding it just in case)

18+only

You could hardly tear your eyes from Steve. He had worked all day and had just come home. He had changed into some shorts and his red sweater. His hair was falling slightly into his face, causing him to run his hand up and back through his hair.

Steve looked no different then any other day, but in this moment, even with the tiredness seeping through his bones, you could feel the love radiating off him as he smiled at you. The adoration in his gaze filled you with warmth.

You scoot closer to him on the couch, his arm absently going to the top of the couch so you could get closer. You move so close your thighs are flush against each other. You lean your ear against his chest, hearing his steady heart beat.

Steady. That's what Steve is. Reliable. Strong. Always there for you. One year together, and you couldn't imagine life without him. You both had to work today, unfortunately, so you decided to celebrate your one year anniversary tomorrow.

"What are you thinking Honey?" Steve gently trailed his fingers up and down your arm. "Kinda want to give you your present today." You mumble, turning your face more into his chest. You inhale deeply, the scent of Steve's cologne mixed with his sweat being so tantalizing. It was Steve. You wanted to bottle that smell.

Steve's chest vibrates as he chuckles," I thought we weren't getting gifts?" You shrug slightly. You don't even care if he didn't get you one, you wanted to get Steve something. You could buy every item in the mall and it still wouldn't be enough to show him how much you loved him.

"Want to exchange gifts tonight?" Steve asks softly. You pull back to look into his eyes," I thought we weren't exchanging gifts?" Steve's face flushes as he gives you a shy grin," Well i couldn't not get something for my best girl."

"Best girl?" You raise an eyebrow," Better be your only girl." Steve blinks and smiles," You're the only girl, Honey. The best and most beautiful the-" you duck your head as Steve scoffs," You are stop it! You're beautiful and amazing, you are my only girl. You're it for me."

Your heart flutters in your chest and you can't stop the smile that spreads across your face. Steve lightly taps your ass to signal for you to move. You sit up and he grins at you.

Steve slaps his knees before standing up," Well, alright then." He motions for you to follow and you stand quickly.

You waddle after him and the image of a chick following a mother hen pops into your head. You giggle slightly as Steve looks back over his shoulder at you. "Watcha laughing about?" He asks and you shake your head in response. He smiles softly and reaches back with his hand, grabbing yours and interlocking your fingers.

He leads you into the bedroom and drops your hand to open the dresser and start rifling through it. You lightly kick the door shut as Steve searches under socks and underwear for the gift.

You go over to the closet to grab his gift. You can't help but start to bite your lip from nerves. What if he doesn't like it? What if it isn't good enough? You had spent hours trying to find it but-

"Enough of that now, Honey," Steve murmurs as his thumb drags your bottom lip out from beneath your teeth. You inhale sharply from shock, not expecting him to have been so close. You turn and stare into his warm eyes. Steve's thumb lingers on your lip for a second longer before he slowly draws his hand away.

You push the rectangular box into his chest, his hand coming up reflexively to catch the gift. Your hand drifts off the package onto his pec, fingers flexing slightly snd squeezing. Steve smirks eyes trailing up and down your form. You clear your throat and tap the gift," Happy anniversary, Babe."

Steve beams at you and hands you a small square box," Happy anniversary, Honey. Here's to many more." You giggle elatedly and take the small box.

He shakes his gift, as if it would give him a clue to what is inside. Steve can't help but half laugh at your amused expression. He loves seeing you smile and would do anything to make you happy. He carefully opens the gift, folding the paper to use again later. The lid slides off the box to reveal a hockey jersey.

Steve's eyes light up, "Holy shit!" "You know how hard it is to find these jerseys in the middle of Indiana?" You tease as you watch him hold it up to himself. Steve is rambling excitedly about the player as he runs his hand over the number. The statistics fly over your head, but you are glad he liked your gift. You look down at your own present.

You tear open the carefully wrapped box, definitely wrapped better than yours. Ripped wrapping paper falls on the ground in pieces. You lift the lid on your box, tossing it somewhere behind you. Inside is a silver chain with the letter S on it. "Wanted everyone to know you're my girl." Steve takes the necklace out and motions for you to turn around.

You do so and feel the coolness of the chain lay across your neck. Steve fumbles connecting the chain for second, mumbling about how small the chain is, before getting it latched. He walks around you and stares at the S that sits above your chest. "Beautiful." He mumbles before looking into your eyes.

"Guess I'll have to get you a ring so everyone knows you're mine." You hands slide up his shoulders and land behind his neck. Steve blushes slightly as he grins wildly at you," Not if I get you one first."

Steve leans in slowly, lips barely brushing yours. A shaky exhale from either or both of you occurs before your lips meet. Soft and sweet.

It soon turns more frantic. Soft and sweet becomes passion and lust. Hands roam, tongues sweeping into each other's mouths, teeth lightly clashing.

The back of your legs hits the bed, you weren't even aware of Steve moving the two of you. You pull away long enough to discard your clothes, throwing them haphazardly on the floor. Steve trips trying to take off his boxers, falling face first onto the bed. He grumbles as he turns around, but all grumbling stops as you climb atop his lap.

Steve's hands automatically grab onto your hips, pulling you closer to him. You lean over him, holding yourself up with one hand as the other threads through his chest hair. Steve licks his lips as he eyes your bare breasts.

You grind slowly against Steve, feeling the veins on the outside of his cock rub against your folds. The tip of his cock rubbing against your clit in just the right way. Steve's hands grab and knead your ass as his eyes focus on the S of your necklace swaying against your breasts with every roll of your hips.

"Oh fuck me," Steve groans, darting his head forward to kiss and lick at your chest. You gasp in surprise and try not to moan at the feeling. Every one of your senses feels alight. Steve trails kisses up to your neck, leaving an open mouth kiss pressed against you. You can feel the warmth of his tongue collide with the cool of the necklace.

You aren't sure how long has passed, it could be five minutes or fifty, but you can feel the pressure building. Steve doesn't stop kissing, licking, and sucking on every inch of skin he can reach.

Stars alight behind your eyes as your hips spasm. You can feel your muscles tense and relax, the feeling of immense pleasure rushing over you. You aren't sure if you said his name or just moaned, but Steve's murmurs of praise fill your ears.

When the orgasm subsides, you can feel your release dripping down your thighs. Steve slowly rolls the two of you over, him propped up above you. "Did so good for me," Steve murmurs, kissing you lightly. Steve reaches over to the nightstand to grab a condom but you stop him and pull him back in for another kiss.

"I loved the present you gave me earlier," you mumble against his lips, pulling back slightly. Steve beams down at you, fingers trailing lightly down your face. "But it isn't what I wanted," you add, blinking up at Steve. Steve frowns slightly, brows furrowed. "Shit, did you ask for something and I forgo-"

"No." You smile, hand trailing up and down his lower abdomen, dangerously close to his dick. He shivers slightly at the feeling," then uh what was it you wanted? I'll go get it. Promise, anything you want I'll give you." Your grin turns slightly wicked as you slide your hands around to his ass, "I want to fuck you without a condom. Your cum. Inside me."

Steve groans and drops his head to your shoulder, faltering and pressing all his weight into you. His head burrows into your neck. His voice hitches," Fuck." You feel his dick twitch before a warmth spurts onto your abdomen. Steve moans as his hips stutter forward. You blink in shock before the realization hits.

"Did you just-" you look down as if you could see through Steve's body to your stomach. Steve whimpers slightly, nodding his head into your neck. "Sorry fuck sorry" Steve presses kisses into your neck with each word. Your hand trails up and down his spine, mind reeling.

You knew Steve would like the suggestion. You weren't expecting him to come just from saying it though. It was...kind of hot. The fact that he was so into you the thought of it alone sent him over the edge?

You shifted slightly under his weight as you felt that needy feeling appear again. Steve pulls his head back and gives you a pout," Fuck i wasn't expecting that. You can't just say shit like that." Steve props himself up and hovers over you, both of you looking at the evidence of his excitement smeared across your abdomen.

Steve sat up so he was kneeling between your legs. "What did you say you wanted?" Steve scooped some of the cum onto two of his fingers," My cum inside you?" Steve trailed his fingers down and slowly pushed into your weeping hole.

You moan at the feeling of his big fingers filling you up. It also felt slightly dirty, Steve fingering his cum into you. It was taboo, but so hot, you could feel yourself get wetter. Steve thrusts his fingers in and out, slowly at first before speeding up. He crooks his finger to hit that spot in you. You gasp as you buck your hips to meet his thrusts.

You grab his wrist haltering his movements, "Can you-? Are you?" You look down at his half hard cock," Need you." Steve swallows and nods, removing his fingers making you frown at the loss. Steve's fingers are coated in both of your releases, glistening in the light. He strokes his cock a few times, it hardening with each stroke.

"You look so good like this," Steve murmurs, leaning back over you. The tip of his dick catches against your hole, causing you both to inhale sharply.

You can feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly slides into you. Steve's brow furrows as his mouth falls open," Oh shit- can't believe you're- fuck." Steve moans slightly as he bottoms out.

He pauses only for a second before setting a brutal pace, fast and hard. Each thrust has you gasping. "Gonna fuck you so good. Gonna fill you up." Steve moans into your ear as he nips at your neck.

Each thrusts hits just right. Your breath catches, your heart beating wildly. The love and adoration in the room overflows, so sickly sweet. "I love you," you gasp into Steve's mouth as you kiss him. Steve groans into the kiss, licking deep into your mouth.

Your body shakes as you come undone. Your vision fades to black and the only thought you can think is Steve. Euphoria from every angle, pleasure alighting every nerve in your body.

Steve moans as he feels you clench around him. He picks up his pace slightly before he comes. You can feel the thick ropes of his release paint your insides. You half whine half moan at the feeling.

Steve's chest rubs against you with his labored breaths. He rests his weight on his forearms so he isnt pressed against you- not that you would have minded. "Did i say it back?" Steve asks causing you to blink up st him. His hair has flopped onto his forehead, stuck there from the sweat, "I love you too."

Steve slowly pulls out, eyes widening as he watches your combined releases slowly leak out of your hole. He licks his lips and lightly pats your thigh before getting up to grab a washcloth from the attached bath. He returns and cleans you up before laying down next to you.

"I love you so much," Steve wraps his arms around you," Definitely need to go look for a ring." You chuckle slightly and look up at him," Not if I find one first."

[littlemissomega]

How Low Can You Go ?

Diabetic!reader x Stucky

Summary: reader’s blood sugar drops in the middle of the night

Warnings: Dangerously low blood sugar, low blood sugar symptoms (head racing, shaky, brain fog), crying, blood, mention of glucose tablets (which is kinda a medication? It helps get your blood sugar up), orange juice, fluff, pet names (Ladybug, princess, sweetie, honey, etc)

Short and sweet enough to give your hyperglycemia (high blood sugar)

For reference, any blood sugar below 70-80- depending on your dr- is considered low

Masterlist

Why is my heart pounding? Y/N wonders groggily as her eyes flutter open. She can tell something is wrong. Her skin feels clammy and her whole body is shaking. Y/N slowly sits up, looking around confused. Her brain feels foggy and she can’t think straight. Tear well in her eyes from the frustration and she put her face in her hands.

“Are you okay, baby?” Bucky asks, voice thick with sleep.

Y/N bursts out in tears and he shoots up in bed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting a hand on her cheek. Her skin is cold and sticky under his palm, “Steve, wake up,”

Y/N feels Steve sturs and sits up on her other side.

“Ladybug, what’s wrong?” Steve asks, rubbing her back.

“Don’t kn-know can’t think heart don’t know don’t fee-feel good,” Y/N sniffles.

“What’s your blood sugar?” Bucky asks, turning on the lamp.

Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, nuzzles her face into Steve’s chest in the bright light.

“Huh? Don’t know too dizzy,” she whimpers.

“It’s okay, princess, we’ll make it all better,” Steve soothes, wrapping his arm around her and Bucky grabs her phone off the nightstand.

  Bucky goes straight to her Dexcom app.

“Shit,” he mumbles, pushing the blankets off and jumping out of bed.

“What? What is it?” Steve asks, tightening his grip about Y/N

“40.1 (2.2mmol/L) with double arrows down,” Bucky calls as he runs down the hall to the kitchen.

Bucky’s hands tremble as he grabs two bottles of orange juice from the fridge, as well as Y/N’s glucose tablets.

“Let’s manually check, baby,” Steve suggests, gently turning her so her back is against his chest. He grabs her diabetes bag off the nightstand and gets the glucometer (what checks how much sugar is in your blood) out. He quickly puts a strip in before getting the lancet (finger pricker) out. He quickly cleans her shaking index finger with an alcohol swab before pricking this finger.

“Oww Stevie,” Y/N whines.

“I know baby, I’m sorry,” he soothes, wiping the blood up with the strip. Steve lifts her still bleeding finger to his lips and sucks on it gently. 3…2…1…

“39.3, Buck!” Steve calls, releasing her finger with a pop.

“That bad?” Y/N slurs.

“Don’t close your eyes, Ladybug, Bucky will be right back,” Steve tells Y/N, gently tapping her cheek as her eyes start to close.

“Don’t li-like it,” she responds. Steve wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“I know, baby. Here’s Bucky!” Steve points out as Bucky plops down on the bed.

“Here you go, Ladybug,” Bucky voices, opening the orange juice and lifting it to her lips.

Y/N struggles to part her dry lips, still feeling confused. The sugary, tart juice is a shock to her system and she almost chokes on it.

“There you go, baby, think up,” Steve whispers, placing a hand on the back of her head.

“Take this too,” Bucky adds, opening the glucose tablets and getting two out. He gently parts her lips with his thumb and places them on her tongue before lifting the juice back up. She swallows them without hesitating.

“You’re doing so good, honey,” Steve soothes, “Keep drinking it,”

Y/N obeys, swallowing until the last drop is gone.

“Do you think that’s enough?” Steve whispers.

“I think? I don’t wanna overtreat and it goes high. Let’s just wait 15 minutes and recheck,”

“Bucky?” 

“Yes, baby,” Bucky responds, putting a hand on his girlfriend’s leg.

“I’m sor…sorry I woke you up,” she stutters.

“It’s okay princess! I’m sorry you’re feeling icky. You’re gonna start feeling better soon, honey,” 

Bucky places a hand on Y/N’s cheek and she leans into it.

“I love you,” she mumbles.

“I love you too,” Bucky smiles.

“And I love you,” Y/N repeats, flopping her head back on Steve’s shoulder.

“And I love you too, Ladybug,” Steve chuckles, “You’re our best girl. Always,”

Masterlist

Taglist:

@liidiaaag

@flourishandblotts-inc

@aagn360

@smromanoff

@butyoudontlookdisabled

[neonponders]

Billy had no idea what to wear to a ballet. He didn’t have a tuxedo. He’d grown out of the only suit he possessed. And the worst part of it, Robin being the only girl he could go to for such input, proved no help at all.

“I was going to ask you and Steve! But Steve’s Houdini-ing all over the place—it’s a wonder he even got my ticket to me in person.”

Indeed, Steve only got Billy his own ticket because Billy had taken to spending the night at Chez Harrington on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Which was extra weird with Max in tow, but that key was getting mileage since Billy had to take her home before midnight.

Now he and Robin faced reality: they had to ask an expert. The only person available to them was Robert Harrington.

[eaglesnick]

Double Whammy

According to Diabetes UK 4.3 million people in Britain have diabetes, 90% of these having the avoidable type 2 diabetes. Diabetes costs the NHS £10 billion a year, and in some hospitals over a quarter of beds are taken up by  people with diabetes. The number of people with diabetes has doubled in the last 15 years and is continuing to rise.

The great tragedy of type 2 diabetes is that it is largely avoidable. 

“Research shows that living with obesity is the single greatest risk factor, and accounts for 80-85% of someone's risk of developing the condition, and our previous data revealed that the number of people living with obesity in England has almost doubled in the last 20 years from 6.9 to 13 million."  (Diabetes UK: 05/04/21)

One of the major causes of obesity is the consumption of ultra-processed foods such as mass produced bread, pre-packaged meals, breakfast cereals, sausages and other reconstituted meat products, yoghurts with sweeteners or stabilizers, chicken nuggets, frozen meals, crisps, soft drinks, biscuits, etc.

We may think we can avoid ultra-processed foods but the evidence suggests otherwise. According to the Guardian (02/02/18):

“Half of all the food bought by families in the UK is now “ultra-processed”, made in a factory with industrial ingredients and additives invented by food technologists and bearing little resemblance to the fruit, vegetables, meat or fish used to cook a fresh meal at home."

As bad as ultra-processed foods are for adult health, think how much worse they must be for the heath of developing children, yet

“Almost a third of baby and toddler foods sold in the UK are ultra-processed, risking children’s long-term health and development."  (Guardian: 08/05/23)

This Tory government has known about the links between ultra-processed foods and the rise in diabetes for years.

“MPs have criticised the Department of Health and the NHS in England for being "too slow" to act in preventing and treating diabetes… Being overweight is the main risk factor for type 2 diabetes, and 90% of adults with type 2 diabetes are overweight or obese.” (BBC: 22/01/16)

Despite this knowledge, the government, rather than introducing policies to wean people off ultra-processed food, is actively promoting its consumption. As recently as February this year Sunak’s Tory government was recommending ultra-processed food as part of a healthy diet.

“An app launched by the UK government, supposed to encourage healthy eating, has been found to be promoting ultra-processed foods.” (www.schoolfoodmatters.org:01/02/23)

The Grocer magazine (25/05.21) asked this question:

“Why is government incapable of saying ‘avoid ultra-processed food’?”

The answer is provided in Great British Life (18/05/23) when it reported:

“The Soil Association said it was “deeply concerned” about the influence of the food and drink industry on UK health policy as the NHS Food Scanner app continued to recommend biscuits, cakes, crisps, chocolate puddings and fizzy pop as “good” options for a healthy diet.”

The sad truth is, this Tory government puts corporate profit before public health. Our health,  and especially that of our children's, is being put at serious risk so that the giant food companies can continue to reap massive profits.

“Millions of people in UK facing food poverty as supermarkets announce record profits.” (Sustain: 22/05/22)

But this isn’t just a UK problem.

“Top 100 Food and Beverage Companies for 2022: A Year of Succulent Profits. 2021 could be called the year of meat and soft drinks. All of the top companies in those two categories had blowout years, adding billions of dollars to their top lines and similarly handsome increases to their bottom lines.”  (Food Processing: 05.08.22)

The food-processing companies and the big British supermarkets are both powerful and influential when it comes to determining government food policies. They are motivated by one thing only: profit. If the largest profit to be made is by promoting and selling ultra-processed food then so be it. To the supporters of neo-liberal free market economics the only duty of corporate management is to maximise profits for their shareholders. Any concern for the health or social consequences of their actions is in the words of Milton Friedman ”pure and unadulterated socialism” and no Tory government wants that.

But where is the “double whammy” of the title? It is in the insane situation whereby the government is now offering a “cure” for obesity by making a drug, costing millions of pounds, available on the NHS.

“THE UK should be "front of the pack" in dishing out weight loss drugs to obese Brits, Steve Barclay said today.

The Health Secretary last night announced a £40million two-year pilot that will look at ways to make obesity medicine accessible to patients outside of hospitals.” (Sun: 07/06/23)

Rather than curing obesity at source, by reducing the amount of ultra-processed foods we are being sold, the government is giving taxpayers money to the big pharmaceutical companies to produce weight-reducing drugs. The message is clear, people are to be to encouraged to go on eating ultra-processed food, and then be supplied with a drug to reduce the excess weight gain that results. It’s a win-win situation. The food-processing companies and super markets  go on making massive profits, and the pharmaceutical companies go on making massive profits. The only losers are our children and the 28% of England’s population who are already grossly over-weight, but who cares about them? Clearly not Steve Barclay or Rishi Sunak.

[sam24]

Man on a Mission

Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.

Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.

He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.

Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.

“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”

“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.

“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”

“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”

“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”

“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.

For now.

“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.

Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.

“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.

“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.

“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.

Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive

Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)

Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.

A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.

Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.

“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”

Bucky stared at him intently.

Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98

Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.

Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.

“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.

“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.

Suspect 3: Steve Rog-

Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.

Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.

For now, Bucky was stuck.

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.

You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.

But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.

Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.

He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.

There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.

He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.

He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.

You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?

But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,

“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.

Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.

He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.

“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.

The little bastard was taken by complete shock.

Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.

“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”

Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.

He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.

“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.

“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”

Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.

“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”

Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.

Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.

“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.

Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.

“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”

Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.

“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”

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A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.

Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.

He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.

Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.

“Thank you,” You smiled.

“For what, doll?”

You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”

Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.

“I love you, my little smartass.”

“I love you too, pops.”

Mission accomplished.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Anonymous request: You're also an Avenger and you love the Christmas time but everyone else doesn't. So you kinda get sad every year as you're the only one enjoying the time. One day you decide to put on some Christmas tunes and start making cookies when Bucky starts watching you from the other room, smiling to himself as he sees you all being happy and cute. He decides to change his mind and joins you, helping you make cookies, even though he's clumsy but you enjoy his presence (as you both have feelings for each other). In the end you're covered in dough and stuff and he grabs you and kisses you, admitting both your feelings, while the rest of the team watches you both happy from afar.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,195 words

Warnings: tooth rotting sweetness, beware of diabetes!

A/N: Shoutout to @samodivaa for aiding and abetting this endeavor!

To you, they were family. And Christmas was supposed to be a time for family. At least that is what you'd been raised to believe, even though you weren't a Christian or religious. To you Christmas was a time for togetherness, for helping others, showing kindness and love and having hope. Shortly before joining the team, you had lost your family and the Avengers had become a surrogate family of sorts. You loved them dearly and wanted them to experience the same joy you did at this time of year.

Tony had graciously let you order a magnificent tree, which you'd basically decorated on your own, with the assistance of your inhuman powers. The others had watched you or walked by showing various degrees of enthusiasm for your activities, ranging from praise to outright disregard for your endeavors. Despite your gratitude, your friends’ lack of interest did dampen your spirit a little.

The closer it got to Christmas Day, your resolve to spread some Christmas cheer grew stronger. It helped that you’d hung a blown up photograph of your own family’s last Christmas picture opposite your bed.

“Don’t worry guys, I’ll get them to come around. I won’t let the love die. I promise,” you whispered in front of the image before starting your day.

You had come up with a plan to try and win your friends over to the festivities. No one could ever say no to your sister’s secret cookie recipe. She had had people practically drooling in anticipation of stuffing their faces with her Christmas concoctions. So after a morning of grueling training with Steve, you took a shower and headed to the store to purchase the correct ingredients. Upon your return, you found Sam, Steve, Bucky and Nat congregated in the living room adjoining the kitchen. They were pouring over some plans over their next mission.

“Hey Nexus! What you got there?” Sam called as you entered the room.

You rolled your eyes at his use of your superhero name. You hated it, but the media had used it far too often and you were stuck with it.

“None of your business, Falcon!” you snarked back at him.

You made a pit stop at the table they were sitting at, Nat and Bucky trying to hide their sniggering faces behind their hands. Steve’s face remained relatively passive, giving you a kind smile for which you were grateful.

“Come on, Sugar. You bring me something sweet?” Sam certainly knew how to turn on the charm, especially in front of Bucky. He knew that the Winter Soldier was harboring a little crush on you and he played up in front of him to see if he could provoke Bucky into acting on his feelings. So far he hadn’t succeeded, but he could definitely hope for a Christmas miracle.

“Here.” You pulled out a bag of his favorite treats which you’d bought back for him from the store.

“So anyone interested in helping me bake some festive cookies?” you asked, shaking a bag of chocolate chips in front of their faces.

“Sorry, Sugar. I have to go talk to my sister. She wants me to buy some new fangled toys for the boys.” He pressed a chaste kiss against your cheek and took his leave.

Nat stood up with Steve. “We can’t stay. We have to show our faces in front of some high powered windbags,” she wrinkled her nose before giving you a hug. “Save some for me though!”

“Me too,” Steve dropped a quick kiss on your forehead before following Nat out of the door. He was in on Sam’s plan to light a fire under Bucky’s ass.

“Buck?” you asked dubiously. 

“Not sure that’s my thing, Doll.”

“Your loss,” you replied in a slightly sing-song tone of voice and shuffled over to the kitchen with your bag of goodies, letting Bucky go back to brooding over the book he had pulled out of his jacket pocket.

Sauntering around the kitchen, you laid out the ingredients. You grinned as a happy thought entered your brain and you pulled out your phone letting FRIDAY connect to your bluetooth. Bucky looked up as a tune started to play, it didn’t surprise him in the least that you had your very own Christmas playlist. He couldn’t help but be distracted from his novel as you swayed around the kitchen measuring out flour and butter. But it wasn’t your dance moves that eventually got Bucky’s attention, it was the sound of your voice.

The singing voice you’d been born with was silky smooth, no one would have guessed that you were in possession of such a sweet instrument. Ever since you’d come into your powers, you had the ability to project your voice much further, sing louder with a lot more ease. But you never quite got the confidence to use it publicly. Bucky, however, knew better. He followed your schedule closely enough to know when you’d be in the shower, and he would excuse himself to put his ear to the vent to listen to you belt out your favorite tunes. And it was pure luck that today he would be getting a private concert. He sat, chin resting on his vibranium palm, lost in a fantasy of dancing with you.

This reverie was broken by your sudden gasp and a clatter of a bowl falling to the floor. Bucky was out of his seat in a flash, by your side, helping you clear up your mess.

“Thanks, Bucky!”

“No problem,” he grinned shyly. He always felt a little nervous when he was in such close proximity to you. He wondered if you could hear his heart pounding. “Looks like you need a little help.”

Had you just heard correctly? Was Sergeant Bucky Barnes offering to help you bake Christmas goodies?

“Really?” you asked, hopefully.

There was no way Bucky could say no to those shining eyes, the sincerity behind them when you looked at him. He wanted to be close to you, but at the same time he wanted to run away in shame. Why would someone as pure as you be interested in someone like him? At least, that’s what he always told himself when you smiled in his direction. The two of you were friends, there was no doubt about that, but you were friends with everyone. Bucky wanted more. He wanted all of you.

“Well, I can’t have you accidentally hurting yourself making baked goods.” A faint blush stained his cheeks as he spoke.

Not that you noticed, attributing his color to the rising temperature from the oven.

“Can’t have that at all!” you giggled. “Here, want to measure out the flour?”

You move over, giving him space to do his own thing and pick up the eggs for your next recipe. Your concentration in avoiding dropping shell pieces into the mix was broken by the sound of Bucky’s voice singing quietly to Bing Crosby’s White Christmas. It took a lot of effort to bite back the smile the vision brought to your face. No one would believe the sight; the big bad Winter Soldier singing Holiday singles while baking festive treats. You never understood why people were frightened of him, why people would cross the street to avoid him. It made you angry when people shot fearful looks at him, you gritted your teeth when his reputation was slated in the media. Why couldn’t they see the soft hearted man you had come to love? You had given up trying to hide your grin as you imagined him in an apron with the words “kiss the chef” printed in bold red letters across it.

“Doll?” Bucky’s voice interrupted your fantasy, he was sporting a slightly concerned look. “You okay? You’ve gone really red.”

“Yeah, fine,” you squeaked. “I should probably stop drinking the wine.”

“Doll, you haven’t even opened the wine.” Bucky frowned at the empty glasses and corked bottle on the counter.

You tittered nervously, “yeah, right, umm, it’s just a bit hot.” You fanned your face, trying to disperse the deepening crimson color that was starting to look the same as the wine bottle before you.

Bucky shuffled closer to you. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, really, Bucky. Why don’t we start mixing this together?”

You handed Bucky the softened butter and were about to instruct him to beat it together with the sugar, but before you had the chance, Bucky had dropped the entire block into the bowl of flour he had just finished measuring out. A tiny yelp left your lips, which turned into a smothered giggle as Bucky’s flour coated face emerged through the mist created by the crater in the bowl. Without hesitation, you grabbed a clean towel and started dusting his maroon Henley.

Bucky was laughing along with you as you dusted away the flour. Eventually you'd cleared up most of the flour, but he had missed a spot. You mustered up your courage to reach up and brush your fingers over his nose.

“Did you get it all?” he asked. 

He was standing impossibly close to you. And you wondered if you had imagined the way his eyes flicked down to your lips for a fraction of a second.

“I think so,” you smiled bashfully. “But maybe you should let me finish up on this.”

“Do you want me to do anything else?” Bucky felt a sudden pang of discomfort. What if you didn't want him around at all.

“Yes! I suck at opening those bottles.” You pointed at the wine. “Do you mind pouring a couple of glasses for us?”

“No problem!” Bucky completed his task efficiently and with enthusiasm. 

He waited patiently for you, watching you mix the batter with expertise. You rolled out the dough and held out a couple of cookie cutting molds. 

“Which one? Snowflake or Christmas tree?” 

Bucky grabbed the snowflake from your open hand and went to work on the dough. You couldn't help but notice how cute he looked as he tried to fit as many cookies on one roll without having to re-roll. It was adorable how his tongue stuck out a little as he concentrated on the task before him. You let him arrange his concoctions on the baking tray.

“What now?”

As if on cue, the oven binged, indicating that the cupcakes you'd put in earlier were done. 

“Now, we swap this tray for that one!” you pointed at the oven.

“No problem!” Bucky opened the oven and shoved his left hand inside to grab the baking tray.

“Bucky!” you shrieked. “You don't have any oven gloves!”

Bucky chuckled.

“Doesn't it burn?” you demanded, a little distressed by his nonchalance. 

“Doll, calm down.” He put the tray of cupcakes on the counter and showed you his metal palm. “It's fine, metal, remember?”

When your heart finally stopped pounding from panic, you covered your face in embarrassment. Bucky took your fingers and gently pried them off your face, smiling down at you, his eyes filled with more mirth than you were used to.

“So want to frost the cakes?” You grabbed the closest cone of frosting, trying to hide behind it.

“Sure.”

Bucky leaned into your side, making you squeeze the frosting filled cone with unease and painting your face with a green glaze. Bucky was having the time of his life, the thought that he was making you uncomfortable was giving him a much needed confidence boost to do what he wanted to.

“Errr, Doll, you have a little.” He motioned at his mouth.

“Oh,” you wiped a small spot off your cheek, not quite getting all of it. “Did I get it?”

Bucky sucked his lips in for a moment, contemplating his next move. “May I?”

You nodded. He placed his hand on your jaw, his thumb next to the edge of your mouth. “There's just a little…”

Bucky leaned in slowly, his eyes focused on yours for a moment looking for signs of discomfort from your part.

To you, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Gently, Bucky covered your sugar coated lips with his and licked it off. His tenderness took your breath away.

As he finally drew back, he stopped, his nose brushing yours. His eyes searched yours for a reaction.

“Is it gone?”

“Want me to do it again, to make sure?”

“I'd like that.”

This time you kissed him back, letting his tongue tango with yours. Bucky's warm hands brushed your arms, coming to rest on your waist while yours found purchase on his sturdy chest. When the kiss ended, you felt flustered but the corners of your mouth wouldn't stop turning up. 

Bucky picked up another colored cone. “So this can't be too hard, right?”

You laughed, showing him how you liked to decorate your cakes. Even though you'd not spoken the words out loud, you and Bucky had a mutual understanding about how you felt for each other.

And unbeknownst to you and Bucky, your friends watched the blossoming romance unfold with knowing smiles and a mild frown from Steve who forked up $50 to Sam for his accurate predictions.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! First I want to say how much I appreciate this blog, and how cool it is that so many different people from the disability community have come together to share your perspectives on this blog!

Onto my question!

There are numerous characters existing in books, comics, tv shows and movies that have disabilities. Many of them are well known and beloved characters. But 99.9% of the time their disabilities are used as plot devices, traumatic backstory’s, and forgotten unless their disability is useful to add drama or make a slapstick joke. As a fan fiction writer who sees myself in many of these characters, I want to fix this poor and ableist representation when I write these characters. My question is, how can I do that? I want to maintain what makes these characters who they are, including their disabilities, while still keeping them true their development. I want to add that I have researched all of these disabilities in depth, and the information I’m seeking now is how to include them with proper representation.

For example Steve Rogers’ (Captain America) entire origin story is rooted in the erasure of his disabilities. He goes from being disabled and mocked and bullied because of that, to a super hero, who is strong, fast, has enhanced hearing and sight. He’s ‘magically’ cured. What we love about his character is that his newly acquired super powers don’t change his morals and beliefs. But his disabilities have still been erased.

For this character (and other characters who magically go from disabled to abled) would you recommend finding a halfway point? For example, Steve Rogers still gets tall and buff and gains super strength and stamina, but he still some of his disabilities like scoliosis, hard of hearing, or diabetes? Or keeping him how he looks before his transformation, but still having him have his super powers?

Another example (marvel again, because marvel uses disability and subsequent disability erasure as one of its main plot devices) is Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier. He is a forequarter amputee who is given a science fiction prosthetic. This prosthetic required invasive surgery and implants (all of which was non consensual). His prosthetic is very strong, stronger than his right arm (even with super soldier serum that already makes him stronger than other humans). This technology doesn’t exist in real life, and this prosthetic (and prosthetics in other media that has amputee characters) is treated like a fix all: like a new arm but even better so then the character who went through dramatic trauma for the plot doesn’t have to be disabled anymore. Here is my conundrum: the winter soldier has a prosthetic left arm that he can fight with is an important part of his character. To not write him as an amputee erases his disability completely, but to write him without his high tech prosthetic also takes away from other important parts of his character. So my question is, when writing this character (and other amputee characters with similar situations) is it best to find a halfway point? Let this character have his advanced super strong and dexterous prosthetic, but have him actually treat it like a prosthetic (for example, he takes it off, doesn’t sleep with it, and knows how to do tasks without it). Or would it be better to make the prosthetic more realistic? As strong as his other arm, he can’t use it like a battering ram, etc. Or would it be more appropriate to find different ways for characters to do what they do without advanced prosthetics?

I would love to hear specific suggestions for these characters but it would be great too if you had some broad suggestions for repairing disability erasure within any existing work of fiction. Thank you so much for all of the hard work you all put into cripplecharacters!!

Hello,

My time has come.

So Steve Rogers is a product of his time. Back when he was created, living with the disabilities he had was far harder. But nowadays we have medications and treatments his creators would've never thought possible- I mean, this was the time when smoking was the treatment for asthma- so consider incorporating those. For some of them, like what's probably rheumatic heart disease from the scarlet fever, a halfway point would probably be best (more on that in a second.) For other things, modern treatments will do just fine. If Howard Stark can create a flying car, he can create iron supplements and blood sugar monitors. Let's see what he has and how he can be accomodated;

Asthma- the serum can strengthen his lungs and lessen the severity, or you can skip that step and instead look at modern treatments for asthma, which include breathing exercises, slowly increasing exercise to improve the body's tolerance, and a lot of medications. Without knowing the type of asthma he has it's hard to know what his asthma attack plan would be, but considering he has no mentioned allergies, it's probably non-allergic persistent. This can be treated with a combination of long-term control medications, which are taken on a set schedule to help prevent asthma attacks, rescue medications that are used as-needed for asthma attacks, and possibly biologics, which are injected medications for people with severe asthma. These medications are a bit similar to immune suppressants, suppressing the body and immune responses that cause asthma attacks. He can also do breathing exercises to strengthen the lungs and slowly build up exercise tolerance. The bigger lungs due to his bigger body should also help.

Diabetes- there's a massive range of insulin pumps, blood sugar monitors, sugar tablets, and whatever else have you that makes life for diabetics. He'd also benefit from a diet plan, which will take in his level of diabetes, what his pancreas can handle, and potential problem areas to create a diet that works for him and helps him avoid hypoglycaemia and hyperglycaemia.

Astigmatism- contacts, or just some form of glasses or goggles. That's assuming his vision is bad enough to need correction at all, because some people with astigmatism can get by without. He's gotten this far without any form of corrective lense and he's not a long-range fighter, so he might not even need them. Still, they would be useful for him to have in his day-to-day life.

Rheumatic fever- this is one of the biggest problems. Rheumatic fever and scarlet fever mess the body up bad, and I'm willing to bet these are what cause his cardiac arrhythmias (irregular heartbeat.) The serum could strengthen his heart. He can also use a vast range of hypotensives (for the high blood pressure,) any number of heart medications, maybe anticoagulants to reduce risk of blood clots, a pacemaker or other implants, maybe surgery to replace damaged heart valves, and regular check-ups on the health of his heart. If all else fails, a heart transplant might be on the table.

Bone deformity- the treatment is going to depend on which bones, the severity of the deformity, and the cause. They didn't specify, so you can find what you think you'd best be able to work with and go from there. Treatments can include surgery, braces, physical therapy, and some medications that can treat the underlying cause.

Scoliosis- probably can just be left alone, maybe a little physical therapy to help him reduce pain. If you've decided he has a severe case, he can get surgery to straighten his spine. (Personally, I would love to see a character with scoliosis who has rib cage deformity.)

Nervous trouble- probably an anxiety disorder, can be treated through a combination of therapy and medication

These writers didn't live in a time where a soldier could have these disabilities, but now we do. There are treatments available for him that can help him, things the writers never could have imagined back in the thirties. He can still be a super soldier with his disabilities.

As for Bucky, take my opinion with a grain of salt because I am not an amputee. But you're right, him losing his arm and Hydra forcing a replacement on him is a huge part of his story and would be incredibly hard to change. The easiest way about it would probably be to keep it the same, he loses his arm and Hydra gives him a new one, but he gets rid of the arm once he's free.

The arm has failsafes in place to protect his handlers and he has no idea what kind of risks it holds, like if it has a tracking device that could lead them right to him. It's a liability and could put him in danger. He also didn't want the arm in the first place and, based on the scratch-mark scars where the metal meets his shoulder, he has tried to remove it before. Plus, if something goes wrong, he can't fix it. That arm is centuries ahead of modern technology, created by Hydra top scientists, it's a titanium alloy, he has no idea how it works or anything about how it was made, the tools required to fix it are probably hundreds, thousands, even hundreds of thousands of dollars (or tools that only exist because one Hydra guy created them, meaning Bucky can't get them and probably can't recreate them-) look, he has a high school education from a century ago. There's no way he's going to be able to fix or even maintain such an advanced piece of technology. Even if he did somehow know how to do it, he doesn't have the funds to do it. Sooner or later, the arm is going to be a problem. So he would probably get rid of it. Tony Stark would jump at the chance to help him remove it, he would love to get to stick it to Hydra.

Getting rid of the arm can also be a freedom thing. It marks him as the Winter Soldier, it's a symbol of Hydra's control of him. By getting rid of it, he's one step closer to being free of their hold on him. He doesn't need the arm. The movies demonstrated that he's perfectly capable of getting by without it, showing him easily running his little goat farm in Wakanda without his bionic arm or even a realistic prosthetic, just using his remaining arm. (Additionally, did you see the look on his face when they gave him a new one? The exhaustion in his voice as he asked where the coming fight was? He did not want that new arm, he wanted to keep happily existing peacefully on his farm and having the arm meant he couldn't do that. He wouldn't want a new bionic.)

For Bucky, I would recommend letting him ditch the bionic as part of his quest for freedom.

In general, my main recommendation would be accessibility and medicine rather than magic cures. If you have any other specific examples because Marvel very, very rarely did disability representation right, feel free to ask if you need help improving them. It's my passion. You have no idea how excited I was seeing this in the ask box.

Mod Aaron

Hi!

Going from deaf or hard of hearing to having super hearing is a bit tricky. I'd recommend this way of doing both:

The ranges that are affected by his specific hearing loss stay hard to hear (with only very mild improvement if any).

The ranges that aren't affected get amplified, possibly even to a debilitating degree.

For many deaf/hoh people, hearing things, especially if the sound is louder than we expect, is very overwhelming. The solution above somewhat mimics the experience of wearing hearing aids, but since they are his powers they can't be removed the same way. (It would be very interesting to explore that through the lens of paralleling forced oralism...)

Mod Rock

[roseareeh]

Purple Hearts | Steve Harrington x Military! Reader

Notes: Guess who's back 🕺 Back again 🕺 Noa's back 🕺 Tell a friend 🕺 For my return, I made y'all a whammy of a story. I hope you enjoy! This is inspired by the movie Purple Hearts, which is available on Netflix. Also a big, big, BIG thank you to @losingmygrasponreality because she wrote Steve's proposal, a big part of the letter and helped me with the e-mails. I love you! 🤍

Words: 18.4k

Warnings: Operation Desert Storm, Deployment, Medical Issues due to diabetes, leg injury, death, description of grief

“She's back!”, Robin yelled through her house. Unexpectedly, she saw your truck pull in the driveway. “She's back, she's back, she's back!” Quick footsteps echoed through the hallway as she hurried down the stairs. Her mother gave her a confused look, but saw what was happening by taking a peek out the window.

You, Robin's best friend since childhood, came back from deployment after 10 months. “You're back!”, she screamed while running through the door and into your arms. “Oh my god, you're back! Did you miss me? What are you doing here? Weren't you gonna be away for 2 more months?” Robin didn't let go while showering you with questions.”Yes, I'm visiting, yes.”, you giggled while hugging her back and feeling your cap slip from your head. “My parents are out of town, you wanna have a sleepover?”

Funny enough, Robin was gonna ask you something and would've requested to meet alone with you. This was perfect! “Hell yeah I wanna have a sleepover!” Robin let go of you and made you follow after to pack her bag. You talked to her mother Lisa in the meantime, telling her that your deployment went well and you were excited to be back for a few months. She was also concerned about your health, but you assured her that you weren't hurt badly.

Robin hurried downstairs with her bag slung over her shoulder. “Come on, sleepover!”, she said while grabbing your hand. That reaction never changed, ever since you two were at least four. “Alright, come on. Bye Lisa!”

Your passenger seat was basically assigned to her at this point. Even if it was empty for the past 10 months, it was still her spot. “Did you get even more ripped while you were gone?”, she shamelessly asked. You didn't notice much, but she definitely did. That torso of yours was basically a tree trunk. “Maybe. Probably.”, you replied while leaving her driveway in the truck.

All your life, you lived just down the street from Robin. That contributed to your best friend status a lot. Driving wasn't necessary, but you also didn't want to leave your truck in her driveway. After the 2-minute drive, she practically jumped out of the car to get inside. “Come on! Can we order pizza? Please let it be pizza!”

So after ordering pizza, getting a glass of wine for one of you each and sitting down on the couch, you turned to her with a questioning look.

“What is it that you wanted to ask me?”

“So, you remember that big favour you owe me?” Honestly, you forgot all about it until she mentioned it just now. “I did now. Why? You need help?” Robin sighted while thinking about what to say. “So, a friend of mine…you know him, actually. Steve Harrington.” Steve? The guy who made your life a living hell? “Your friend, Robin? Seriously?”

“He changed, I promise! Steve's a good guy.” You leaned back against the couch and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “What does that have to do with the favour?” She sighted and took a deep breath. “Can you please marry him so he can get into your medical insurance?” Robin talked so fast that you had to take a good 30 seconds to even realise what she said, and then some more to grasp what she was asking you. “Excuse me?”, you finally asked in disbelief. That was actually insane. “He was diagnosed with Diabetes Type 1 a few months ago. His insurance doesn't cover the insulin he needs to, well, live, and if you'd marry him he'd get full insurance.” Sure, that made sense technically. But you'd break so many military laws. You'd scam the state, risk your job and possibly get jail time if someone found out. “Robin, that's illegal.”, you said. “Besides, he bullied me. Steve's not a good person.” Your best friend scrambled for her words, trying her absolute best to convince you to basically save her other best friend. “He changed. Please, at least talk with him about it. We really tried everything, but…I can't watch him die.” The desperation in her voice pulled at your heartstrings. Yes, you could marry him in theory. And you'd even get extra money just for being married. Not that you had any debts to pay off, but you were saving up for a new car. “Fine. I'll talk to him.” True to God, you've never seen her this desperate for anything. Not even when she came out to you and was hoping you'd stick by.

Just as you finished up breakfast and were getting ready to go on a run, the doorbell rang. It was Robin and Steve. “Seriously? It hasn't even been 24 hours.”, you said while leaning against the doorframe before looking over at Steve. His eyes were scanning your form in your leggins and tight top with an impressed look. “I told you it's urgent.”, your best friend said while stepping inside. Steve followed after her like a puppy after its mother. The door closed back when you turned and followed after. “Robin, even if you could convince me, I couldn't marry him until like, a month from now.” Your tone was hushed while her eyes went wide. “A month?”, she asked. It made perfect sense, how was she so shocked? “Do you want to keep this on the down low or immediately have the court marshall on my ass?”

“He might not even have a month!”, she argued back. You sighted and let a hand run through your hair. “Robin, this would break so many military laws. I'm risking everything if I follow through. Besides, I can't even pretend like he's my boyfriend who I suddenly wanna marry after deployment.” Your best friend gave you a raised eyebrow, meanwhile Steve was just awkwardly standing in your living room. How did he get himself into this?

“Why? You were always a lover girl.”, she stated. Technically, that was true but your current pool of single men wasn't one for long-term relationships. “Because I fucked like, 3 guys on my deployment and my platoon sergeant.” This made it even worse for Steve. Just so…awkward.

Last time he saw you, you were a teenager with some pimples, glasses and nerdy interests. He put you down just for being yourself, and he felt so bad about it. And now? You were confident, had men lining up for you and looked beautiful. Realistically, there was no reason for you to agree. Not for your job, not for him, for nothing really.

“So, we make up a story. You cheated and felt so sorry that you married him to show your commitment.” But all you did was scoff. Was she serious? “I'm not making myself look like a cheater for some guy. Are you insane?” Maybe she was. This was Robin, after all. All of this felt surreal to you. How could you marry a guy who relentlessly bullied you? And ruin your reputation in the meantime? This kind of gossip would spread like wildfire. He was, even with his condition, just some guy.

“Please get out. Both of you.”

Your best friend tried starting a discussion again, but you dismissed her. “Leave. I'm not joking, please get out.” Eventually, they left and you laid down on your couch to reflect on what just happened.

They came back 2 days later. While you were annoyed, you let them inside. “Robin, it's still a fraud. I can lose my job and go to jail.”, you repeated. How could she not get it through her head? “I know, but please. I'm…we're begging you, he really, really, really, can't even afford to live. There's this whole thing with his parents, and-” Steve cut her off. This is the first time you heard him speak up since high school.

“Robin, it's fine. We'll figure something else out.” She tried to argue with him for a bit, but he was awfully quiet, eventually swayed and collapsed on the floor. “Steve!”, Robin yelled while running over. The thud you heard when his head hit your wooden floor was terrifying. That must hurt.

“Fucking hell Steve, where's your glucagon?!” Her yelling at him was useless, Steve was barely conscious. Your best friend went through all of his pockets until finding a small bag filled with syringes and vials. The one she pulled out was barely full…maybe barely enough to bring him back. “Take off his jacket.”, she instructed you. You didn't notice how much you were shaking until you saw your trembling hands taking off the brown coat he was wearing. Robin injected the glucagon and tries to keep him awake by talking to him; that everything is gonna be fine, he’ll be back up in no time, he’ll be okay. It took a good 20 minutes, but he came back to it.

Those 20 minutes were your personal hell. It was scary. This is what diabetes did? That's absolutely horrifying. And now, knowing that you could stop this, there was a feeling of guilt in your stomach. Well, was it guilt or did you just feel pity? Regardless, it hit you that you could fix this. Especially after seeing an almost-empty vial, that was most likely his last one his insurance covered.

Once he got up, you looked him in the eyes. His eyes were filled with fear; just as you expected. But the feeling in your stomach was back. The pity. The guilt. All of it. Steve looked like a scared little boy, nothing like King Steve who bullied you. You had to do something. You know you could.

“I'll do it.”, you said once Robin got him to sit on your couch. Steve could've fainted again on the spot, judging by the look on his face. Meanwhile, Robin looked at you with big eyes and a surprise look, before jumping up and falling into your arms. “Oh my god, thank you! I'll never be able to repay you for this, oh god! You're the best friend ever!” After a bit more praise and tight hugs, she let go breathlessly. “Alright, sit down before you pass out as well.” You turned to Steve with crossed arms. “We'll have to talk out conditions first, though. This is risky for both of us, but especially me.” He nodded quickly, still looking rather shocked. “Yes, anything you want. When do you, uhm…”

“Tomorrow, at 3. I'll make coffee, okay?”

And so it was. While you were making coffee and looking if you still had some cookies left in the cookie tin (they were all stale), the doorbell rang. Steve was awkwardly shuffling his feet while fiddling with his fingers.

“Come in.”, you greeted him with a neutral expression. Steve now took a closer look around your house before standing next to your kitchen island like he was dropped off and forgotten to be picked up. Meanwhile, you jumped onto your kitchen island and took a seat. Steve reluctantly poured himself some coffee, and then some for you.

“There's gonna be some ground rules if we do this.”, you said while crossing your legs. He quietly nodded, knowing he'd accept any condition you'd put out. Steve was desperately looking for help. There was nothing he wouldn't do at this point. “I get extra money for being married. Unless your car breaks down, or you need extra money for utilities, it's mine.” That seemed alright to him. “And I work 12 hour shifts, four days straight, then I get three days off. But I spend most of my free days at the gym for my job. You'll do the majority of the housework.” Isn't that basically an unpaid maid? Although, again, he'd do anything for proper insurance. “And most important is that you don't tell anyone. This deal stays between you, me and Robin. I'm ripping off the government, and if we get caught, I lose my job and we could both go to jail. Me for sure, you…I don't know.” Would he have to? That didn't matter; it can't happen. “We can't tell our parents, friends, nobody. It's gonna be a long game of pretending for a while, but when you get a promotion or something, you can look for new insurance. Then we'd hand in a divorce and you'd have insurance for another year. Plenty of time.” Steve very quickly caught up to how important this was. He didn't want himself or you going to jail, even if one might think he would based on your past together. But that wasn't him anymore. He became a decent guy, after all. Even if you didn't trust that whole thing yet, Robin trusted him. That should be enough for now.

“Nobody thinks we're in a relationship right now, so we'll be on their radar anyways. Might get called a shotgun wedding, but I'll smoke that out no problem.” You'd prove that you weren't pregnant easily, even if the higher ups asked. Besides, military couples get married quickly. That's not unheard of, although you never wanted to play into the stereotype. Not that you planned on getting married any time though; husbands aren't a concept in your world.

But there you were, setting down ground rules for a fraudulent marriage.

“So, I can make us an appointment at the courthouse quickly. We'll be taking pictures, so wear something reasonable. I'll throw on my uniform and call it a day.”

“My parents are gonna wanna meet you.”, he finally spoke up. Was that really his only condition? “Sure, we can do that. Although that makes our story much more unbelievable…or would a secret girlfriend be realistic?” Steve stayed quiet for a bit, head filled with thoughts. “It wouldn't be unimaginable.”, he finally said. Doesn't seem like he had the best relationship with them, and Robin saying something about the trouble with their insurance yesterday it kinda made sense.

“You don't owe them contact with you, Steve. I don't know what happened, but I can tell something isn't right.” He still didn't seem to wanna talk about it, so after some silence you kept talking. “We're gonna have to kiss in public. That's unavoidable. Cheeks and forehead are always okay with me, mouth…well, if the situation fits. Also, hand holding is kinda of a must. They'll have to believe we're head-over-heels in love, since this is a very…spontaneous wedding.” He just nodded, knowing that this would be harder than originally anticipated.

“And most importantly, Steve.” Your tone changed from serious to desperate. “I'm putting everything on the line. You'll have to lie to everyone. Friends, family, whoever you thought you can share anything with you'll have to feed lies to. I don't care if you forget to cook dinner sometimes, but this is the biggest rule. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

And so it was. A week after getting your marriage license, you were pulling up in front of Steve's house. While you decided to wear your uniform, Steve came out in a black suit with a white button-up. No complaints here, he looked like a groom. Or a makeshift groom, at least. He was carrying some paper in his hands when he sat down in the passenger seat.

“Good morning.”, he said in a rather quiet tone. This was getting to him just as much as it got to you. You were pacing around all night and day, ironing your uniform, crying your eyeballs out because the anxiety was eating you alive, just to go back to calming yourself by stuffing a pack of twinkies in your mouth. Despite feeling incredibly sick, you still got into your car and drove over.

“Mornin’”, you mumbled. “You ready?” Steve saw how your hands shaked on the steering wheel, and that you wiped them off on your pants. “Almost.”, he replied. You looked over with a raised eyebrow. “I got you something…sort of like a wedding gift.” That must've been the paper he was holding. You assumed it was just documents he needed for marrying you. But once you opened it, you found a letter inside.

Dear (Y/N),

Before we enter this stage of our lives together, I not only wanted to thank you, but show my deep remorse for our past.

I've been cruel and unfair to you, without taking any prior accountability for it or even apologising. I was a coward who picked on someone who never deserved it, and I have no excuse for it, maybe my own insecurities. I'll never expect for you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I deeply regret it. If I could turn back time and undo all of the things I did to you - I would.

And now, somehow, even after everything I put you through, you're still willing to help me. You're doing something for me that I truly don't think I deserve - something that could save my life. I don't know why you said yes to this, but please know that I am forever grateful. More than I could put into words.

You are a better person than I ever was. Then I ever will be. And I want you to know that I see that now. I see you.

Thank you, (y/n).

Not just for this, but for being the kind of person who would even consider this.

Yours, Steve.

You did your absolute best to hold back your emotions after reading through it. His words were beautiful, poetic, dripping with emotions. He got you at a loss for words and holding back tears while he remained quiet and started the car. Maybe it was rude, but you two did have an appointment at the courthouse.

Unlike the two of you, Robin was ecstatic to join the two of you. She went as far as to take her fourth-hand, barely working camcorder with her. Anything to make it look real, I guess. But walking up the stairs to the courthouse felt like a prisoner walking to his execution to you. Not because you don't want this, but because of the sheer risk. Regardless, before you knew it, you stood in front of the officiant.

“That's very kind of you, Steve.”, you finally said as he pulled out of the driveway. Robin was right when she said he changed for the better. King Steve would've told you to stop whining, but this wasn't King Steve. This was Steve Harrington; grateful, remorseful, reflective. “It's the bare minimum, really.”, he replied. Together, you drove to Robin's place to pick her up. Since she was the only one who's in on the deal, she was ought to be the witness. Nobody else knew. Not our parents, not our friends, no one.

“Sooo…”, you mumbled while standing in front of him in your living room. The ring on your finger still felt odd. “I guess we're married now.” Steve didn't know whether to laugh or not. “Sure are.”, he agreed. Both of you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Especially you, since your stress was at an all-time high. This was really real, no way of backing out of it anymore. What do you do now? There is no guide on a fraudulent marriage.

The speech was short. After all, this was just paperwork. One and done. Still, you held his hand the entire time and looked him in the eyes. The look of love on your face was fake, and so was his. Admittedly, he looked beautiful. Unfortunately, he has always been gorgeous. But did you have to feel this way right now?

"(y/n) (y/l/n), do you take Steve as your husband?"

"I do." There was no hesitation, not even for a second. There couldn't be.

"Steve Harrington, do you take (y/n) as your wife?"

"I do."

He didn't hesitate either. Good. Good act he put on.

"By the power invested in me by the great state of Indiana, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Steve cupped your face with one hand and leaned in. Again, no hesitation. Neither did you, kissing him back like you were head-over-heels in love with him. Not that you were, but the officiant couldn't know that.

Honest to God, you don't remember much from that day. Maybe you disassociated for most of it. At least that's what it looked like on Robin's tape. But you do remember going home with him. Alone. In your now shared house.

“Are you shaking because of your blood sugar, or are you nervous?” His hands were so shaky that not even his pockets could hide it. “Nervous.”, he replied. A sigh left your mouth. “Yeah…me too…” You started pacing up-and-down the living room a bit, before stopping in front of him unintentionally. Both of you stared deeply into each other's eyes, and something snapped inside of you. Like rabid animals, you started a heavy makeout session. While tangled into each other's limbs, you two plopped onto the couch. He groaned when you took a seat on his lap and moved your hips against his crotch.

Without even loving each other, you still shared a wedding night. One that was purely intended to let off steam, but regardless something to remember.

When you woke up in your bed the next morning and saw him next to you, panic rose up. “Fuck…”, you hissed while standing up. It took you a whopping 10 seconds to grab clothes to throw on, not wanting him to see you naked. It didn't even phase him, but you'd eventually have to get him up. You still wanted to sleep in, but getting something to eat was more important right now. Eating wasn't a priority in yesterday's hassle.

Steve woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon in the house. When he walked downstairs, he saw you eating in the kitchen while going through a load of paperwork. “Good morning.”, he said, trying to avoid your gaze. You stayed quiet and pointed at a plate standing on the counter. “Thanks.” The tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife, although it wasn't the good kind. It was clear you didn't want to talk about last night while he was trying not to make a big deal out of it. “I'm gonna get my stuff from my apartment in like an hour.”, Steve said, trying to start a conversation. But all he got was a “Mhm.” from you. With a sigh, he put his plate down and leaned against the counter.

“Last night can't be undone by not talking to me.” You looked up from the papers in front of you with a sour expression. “It's just…weird, okay? We got married and moved in together yesterday, then we had…you know…I don't know what to make of it.” While he understood what you were saying, he wished you would've told him without ignoring him. “That's alright. Won't be around you for most of day anyways, so you can have some time for yourself.” His gaze went to the paperwork in front of you. Okay, maybe not alone-time in the sense you might need. “It's your tricare application. Since you'll be added now.” The pen you were holding softly tipped against the paper. “Well, not an application. More your info.” You read over the words again and let out a groan. “Nevermind. Did it wrong…I'll go back to bed.”

The two of you didn't see each other until the late evening. He was busy moving things around, cleaning his old apartment and getting settled in with the help of his friend Eddie while you were doing…actually, he didn't know what you were up to. But you did leave at some point to get him and Eddie takeout.

“For the hard work.”, you told them with a smile. Eddie happily took the food from your hand, saying how he was near starving already and then plopped down on the couch with Steve.

This was the first challenge. Acting like a married couple, because Eddie didn't know. So you sat down with them. “How's it coming along?”, you asked them with a small smile. Steve swallowed his food quickly while coming up with an answer. “Good. Just gotta put my clothes in the bedroom.” Right. How could you forget? And how could you forget to make space for him? With so much on the line? “I cleared out the right side for you.”, you lied. “Actually, I think I forgot my socks in one drawer. I'll put them away quickly.”

While both were sitting downstairs, you did a speedrun in reorganising your entire dresser. The fact that as much as clothes could expose all your lies made the entire situation so much clearer to you, how risky it was, how you couldn't trust anyone no matter how nice Eddie seems.

Why did you do this to yourself?

20 minutes later, everything was crammed into the right side. With as many clothes as you had, it was hard to really fit everything in there. You'll have to get something else for your things in the next few days, or one for Steve.

“Honey, do you mind a trip to Williams-Sonoma this week?”, you asked your fake-husband when he came up with his best friend. Both were carrying a box each in, and Eddie took a look around. It looked all like you and none like Steve. “I may have more clothes than expected, we can get you your own dresser.” With a huff, both put the boxes down. Steve gave you a kiss on the cheek and a smile. “Sounds good. We have all week anyways, no?”

“This place needs the Harrington makeover anyways.”, Eddie joked with a small grin. The both of you chuckled at his words. “True, true. Although the collection of basketball tees already gives a certain touch.” Both Eddie and Steve laughed a bit at those words. All of the basketball merchandise was scattered around your living room, hallway and even the kitchen. “I assumed the bedroom too, no?” You tapped one of the boxes with your foot while grinning. “Just a bit. I know how much you love the decor here.” In your entire house, actually, but you couldn't say that. “How considerate.”, you giggled before giving him a small kiss on the lips. This still felt weird. Not wrong, just…odd.

“I'll let you two be. Gotta see where to put all my medals now.” That wasn't a lie, they were on the wall of your living room but since some of Steve's framed and signed basketball tees now moved in, it didn't feel like the right space for it. Maybe they could go in the hallway next to the family pictures and your portraits. Together with your new wedding pictures that will be arriving soon. “Can't wait to see it.”, Steve said.

It didn't take long for you to find the right place for all your belongings. Actually, it took such a short amount of time that you were sitting on the couch and watching Home Improvement by the time the two finished upstairs. “Getting ready for tomorrow, aren't we?”, Steve teased the second he came into the living room. Unfortunately, he was naturally funny and your chuckle was real. “Well, if we're going we might as well get some other things. This couch is like…god, it was here when I moved in.” Eddie seemed absolutely smittened by the act you two put up. What a successful day. “You've got any wives left for me at the army?”, he joked while putting on his shoes. He, too, was naturally funny. “Maybe husbands, they're quite charming and desperate.” It made both of them laugh. “I'll take anyone, honestly.”, Eddie replied. That seemed like a clear enough answer. “Sure, I'll set you up. Hope to see you again, it was nice meeting you!” Steve's friend left, leaving you two alone in your shared house.

“I hate to admit that you're funny.”, you said once he came back from the front door. “Yeah?”, Steve chuckled. “Well then, it's only fair if I entertain you.” The initial awkwardness faded as you two sat on the couch and just talked. Not as lovers, but as friend. Maybe Steve Harrington could be your friend after all. Just a friend. Despite laughing and talking for hours, he still slept on the couch.

You two went to get him his insurance at base first thing in the morning. It was a rather quick process, considering you collected all the information first. As the deal promised, he got his dependent insurance card. Steve was safe. He'll be okay. And once back in the car, he couldn't stop staring at the card in his wallet. That was quite literally his lifeline. The thing that would save him, all inside this little piece of plastic. “Thank you.”, he mumbled with a shaky voice. It was easy to hear that he was holding back tears. “You're welcome. Mind paying for some coffee before Williams-Sonoma?” It made him laugh, and after a small sniffle he nodded. “Sure. Anything. I'll even get you a cookie.”

“A cookie? Oh, you're spoiling me, Mr. Harrington.” With laughter filling the car, you two drove off to buy new furniture.

A few hundred dollars later, some coffee and a spontaneous trip to TJMaxx for some home decor and candles, you two were setting everything up. Honestly, you didn't mind the whole home makeover until Steve started feeling unwell.

“I've got it. Don't overwork yourself.” He groaned while watching you push furniture around. As much as he was impressed by your physical strength, he hated the thought of not being helpful. “Stop pouting, Harrington. See, I can manage.” You flexed your upper arms, showing off your muscles in the process. He couldn't help but stare. Where did you hide these? “Should I be ashamed that your arms are bigger than mine?” You giggled and sat down next to him. This really started feeling like a friendship, or maybe it was one already. It sure felt like one. “You can join me for my workout. Although it may be a bit advanced for you.” Now it was his turn to laugh. “Probably. I'm not exactly army-level sporty.”

Like last night, you two spend hours talking, eventually cranking open a bottle of wine and ordering pizza. So much for Steve will cook. But it didn't matter, because you were actually having a great time with him. Plus, the new couch felt so comfortable.

Faking a relationship really won't be that hard if you two are friends.

A week after getting married, you had to go back to work. So did Steve, but he admitted that being a technician at a radio station wasn't as hard as being in the army. Except you had a little side quest that day: Find Eddie the date you promised you'd set him up with. While nobody was openly into men, you knew your people. Especially your work best friend, Sean.

“Look who's back from their honeymoon.”, he said with a grin the second he laid his eyes on you. The two of you shared a hug before he asked how it was, what you did, and whatnot. When you asked him if he'd like to spend his smoke break with you, Sean agreed and went out to his car with you after telling him you'd like a word.

“So, what's going on?”, he asked while taking a cigarette from his pack.

“My husband has a friend, and I don't know if he was joking or not, but he was asking me to set him up with someone.” The smoke left Sean's mouth slowly, but he didn't seem opposed. “He? Like, a man?” You nodded slowly, trying to read his expression. He took a long drag from his cigarette again, and finally gave you a reply. “Tell me ‘bout him.”

“His name's Eddie, he's exactly your age, uhm…Steve told me he's in a band with some high school friends. Really into metal, Dungeons and Dragons, and uuh…he runs the record store in Hawkins. I think that's all I know.” In all fairness, Sean seemed more than interested. The smirk on his lips was undeniable; he saw him before. “Give him my number. I'll go from there.”

So that was that. Life went on, Sean went out with Eddie, Robin came over at least once a week while you kept on living your lie. At least you and Steve were friends at this point. He always had an open ear for you, tried his best to help in any way, cooked, cleaned, looked after you. At first he did it out of kindness and for being grateful, but after a month his feelings for you started to shift. Every “Thank you for dinner.”, and every “I got you some snacks on the way home.” made his heart skip a beat. His kisses in public were real. Putting his hand on your hips was real. Every touch, every word of affection, it all became real.

And you?

This was nothing more than a friendship to you. You swore it would never be more than a friendship, and you kept it. But no matter how bad Steve wanted to tell you, he couldn't. His life was quite literally on the line. He couldn't make it awkward or uncomfortable for you. Suffering with this in silence is the best option, until he gets over it.

Robin, Eddie and Sean were coming over for lunch that particular day. Your amazing match-making skills worked out, Sean and Eddie were boyfriends, although secret ones since his job would be on the line. Neither cared, they just seemed way too happy. Plus, they and Robin could be themselves at your place.

Steve was making Salmon Pasta while you set up the dinner table. Once done, he already handed you a glass of your favourite white wine. “You know me so well.”, you said with a grin while taking it from his hands. “I'd argue I'm fairly acquainted with your habits and favourites by now.” It honestly made you feel bad. How much did you know about him besides his favourite basketball team? He was always cooking food that you liked, buying drinks you enjoyed, watching shows you loved. Maybe he was slowly losing himself in his feeling of owing you something. “You mind if I cook tomorrow? Anything you want, it's my day off.” You may be in for a very simple pasta dish or some eloquent food with caviar and truffle. Unfortunately, you wouldn't know. Maybe Robin could help. “Can you even cook?”, he joked. “I don't mind playing housewife, but you were adamant about me doing the housework.” It honestly made you laugh. “I can cook! I'm just always tired after work.”

“Alright, Commando, whatever you say.” You playfully slapped his shoulder at the nickname. This small gesture set fireworks off inside him, while you only found it amusing.

It was a great night. You've never seen Sean this happy, and from what Steve told you neither did Eddie. Robin told you Steve's favourite meal was burgers and fries, so you went out and bought everything the next day. He was surprised to see everything spread out on the kitchen counter as you were frying, baking and cutting the ingredients. “How did you know that's my favourite?”, he asked while leaning against the doorframe. It would be embarrassing to tell him you had to ask your best friend about it. “You told me.” To him, that was the highest honour. “And there's Budweiser in the fridge. I kinda assumed what beer you'd like, honestly.” No you didn't, Robin told you. But he didn't have to know that. “Are you a psychic? I love those.” Happily, he went over to the fridge to grab a beer. This truly made you happy. After all, he did so much for you without complaining once. “Food should be done in maybe 30 minutes. You wanna shower in the meantime?”

“Your spoiling me, Commando.”, he said with a grin. The butterflies in his stomach were going absolutely insane, while you were blissfully unaware of his feelings, and just happy to take some work off of him for once.

“Hey, uhm, Steve?”, you mumbled while entering the kitchen. He was standing in front of the stove and cooking some pasta before peeking up his head. “I don't like that tone.” His words only made you sigh. “So, I was at work today and they need me to go back to Iraq…just for a month or so, though.” That confused him, you said the general rule of thumb was to stay home for about as long as you were deployed. How could they make you leave again after being home for just 3 months?

“I can't really stop you, can I?” He tried his best to joke, but there was concern and a hint of fear on your face. “It's not like I can say no.”, you mumbled. Steve turned down the stove and strained the pasta before watching you walk over to a chair standing at the kitchen counter. There was a small slouch in your form.

“Talk to me, what's going on?”, he asked while throwing the hand towel over his shoulder. A sigh left your mouth while you tried finding the right words. “It's just…I mean…you know how…” Your faux husband wasn't used to you stuttering, or even being short of words to find.

“Scary?”

“Yes, very.”, you admitted, grateful for him saying what's unspeakable to you. “Every time.” Steve went over to the fridge to grab your favourite soda while you sat there, head between your palms and thinking about what was to come. “Only one month feels…odd. Like it's a real risk. I don't know.”

“But there's always a risk, no? This one's just…shorter.” Unfortunately, Steve was right. The risk of injury or worse was always there.

“You're right. There's just this pit in my stomach…but maybe I'm just scared of getting caught.” That seemed logical to the both of you. While out in the field, there was a greater risk. Especially if you wouldn't call or write letters. “They just cranked all this up a lot, oh god.” You let your hands run over your face, followed by a deep sigh. Steve just kind of…stood there. What is he supposed to say to consult you? Realistically, there was nothing. He didn't know anything about army life, yet how to calm down someone who was awaiting deployment.

“Do you…wanna go talk to Robin? I don't, uhm…” Right, how was he supposed to react? It's not like he could relate, or be too sad you won't be home. Your marriage was fake; no loving husband, let alone kids, to come home to.

“Yeah, I guess. I'll give her a ring.” You walked away and went over to the landline attached to the wall. Meanwhile, he added an extra handful of pasta to the pot and looked for a bottle of wine in the pantry. Robin was gonna come over, so he'd rather be prepared than have Robin raid the pantry.

He left you two alone in the living room once she came over. Your crying and upset tone was clear, and he didn't want to invade such a private moment. Meanwhile, he sat in the kitchen, occasionally doing the dishes or handing Robin another bottle of red wine. She did eventually raid the pantry, with the words “She needs some chocolate.” In her defense, those always helped when one isn't feeling well.

It was Robin who got you into bed, and Steve had to drive her home since she was winedrunk. He fell asleep on the couch, alone, and worried for you.

A week later, it was time for you to leave once again. You were tying your shoelaces while Steve grabbed his keys and put on his jacket. The silence was loud as you put your bag on your back and placed your hat on your head. This wasn't only the day of deployment, but also the day you and Steve would have to put on the ultimate act and have everyone believe how in love the both of you were. You couldn't even be nervous by yourself.

“Alright, I'm ready.”, you told Steve. He simply nodded and opened the door for you. The walk to his car felt odd, not how it usually felt when you two went to Target, or decided to get three more pillows at TJMaxx. “It's gonna be fine.”, he tried to assure you, but you simply sighted and looked out of the window. Sure, everything will be fine.

The hassle near the busses was overwhelming for Steve. Crying children, couples not wanting to let go, so many kisses and goodbyes. He'll have to do the same, he can't let you down. Steve held your hand as he walked over to your bus with you. “Congratulations.”, one of your higher-ups told the two of you while passing by. Both of you gave a simple smile and “Thank you.”

Both of you shared a tight hug. Even though you didn't have any feelings for him, you needed this. It gave you comfort, reassurance, that everything was gonna be okay. It will be. You'll come home.

“Remember, you're my next of kin now.”, you reminded him once he let go. “If anything happens, call my parents and Robin.” He nodded vigorously. “And we can send e-mails, and I can call you sometimes. You won't be all alone.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he noticed the family standing next to the both of you. “Reach out as soon as you can, okay? Promise?” You nodded before slowlu leaning in for a kiss. This was your first longer kiss since the wedding, but Steve pulled it off well. So did you. It seemed like everyone believed it.

“Oh and.”, you started once the two of you broke the kiss. “Feel free to invite the kids over whenever. Just have them take their shoes off, I like our carpet.” It made him chuckle, knowing that this was not an act. You obsessively loved your baby blue carpet. “It'll be even cleaner when you come back. Promise.” You chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. Just like a real couple, Steve thought. And then, it was time for you to get inside the bus. Sean walked by and said goodbye to Steve as well, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before boarding the bus himself.

Just as you sat down at a window seat with Sean next to you, you hear a “One last time for the newly weds!” from outside. You watched two of your colleagues pick up Steve on their shoulders, having him sit there. God, he looked scared. You opened the upper part of the window to stick your head out and face him. “Sorry.”, you mumbled with a slight chuckle. It was rather amusing. But then, you two kissed once again, followed by cheering of your colleagues and their families.

“Alright, that's enough.”, your platoon sergeant said in a gruff tone. Steve was put down on the ground again, and he waved at you one last time until the bus disappeared around the corner.

A few days passed, he checked his e-mail account every day. Eventually, there was one from you

My sweet husband,

I hope you're holding up well and don't feel lonely at home. We haven't been living together for too long before I had to leave again, so maybe it won't be too bad for you.

For my own part, I miss you a lot. I've gotten so used to falling asleep in your arms that I now find it hard to do so by myself. Especially out here, where everything is so different, I miss the comfort and safety you give me. Living with you were the best 3 months of my life so far, although that might change once we gave kids. By the way, did we ever talk about baby names? I think Valentine and Jade are adorable.

Please make sure my plants are still alive by the time we return. I love you so much, and can't wait to fall asleep in your arms again. And, since you asked before I left: Yes, it is very hot here.

Your wife,

(y/n)

My darling wife,

of course I'll be taking care of your plants until you're back. The orchids are thriving, and always remind me of your beautiful face. Looking after them is helping me pass the time, and I'd never let you down by letting them perish.

Even though we only lived together for a short period of time before you had to leave, it's still hard. Just your presence alone has more of an impact on me than I think you know. Without you, this house isn't a home. I miss seeing you dance in the kitchen, your boots in the hallway, or how you always leave your hairbrush out in the bathroom. Robin got me a calendar to mark off the days until you're back with me, but not having you next to me makes even a minute feel like forever. I can't wait to have you back home with me.

You're right, we never talked about baby names. I think Valentine and Jade are beautiful names. Although, may I suggest Ellie for a girl? It's hard to come up with one for a boy if all I can think about is our future baby having your eyes and smile.

I love you, and I can't wait to hold you again at night.

Your husband,

Steve

He was so smooth with it. With the way this was going, there'd be no way anyone would suspect a thing. Plus, the anxiety of constantly being watched was driving you insane.

Eventually, it was time to call each other. Just to make it more believable, but it would be nice to get news from home in real-time. With a small sigh, you picked up the phone and dialed your landline number.

“Hey honey.”, you hear him chime from the other side of the line. It was odd to have him call you that. That might never change, though. “Hey babe. Can you hear me?” Knowing that both of you are watched, this would have to be as realistic as possible. Although the e-mails were perfect already. But it didn't help much with the odd feeling in Steve's stomach. “Loud and clear, commando.” You giggled at his nickname - this was an actual giggle, because you thought this one was a bit funny. “Still trying to be funny, huh?” There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone. “Always. It's one of my jobs to make you laugh, no?” He was good at this, too good. Maybe even better than you.

Steve wasn't acting anymore, though. Being away from you for so long made his heart ache, and crave just being in your presence.

“One amongst many others.”, you giggled. “How are you holding up?” A few seconds of silence were followed with a “I don't know. Not good. I miss you.” His words were the truth, but you didn't know. To you, he was acting. “I miss you too. But I'll be back before you know it.” Only 20 more days. Then this would all be over, and you'd be back home. As you looked over, you could see Sean trying to conceal his grin while holding a telephone to his ear. He was definitely calling Eddie, and it made you smile.

“Robin may or may not have a Welcome Back party planned. Well, I helped but it was her idea.” You giggled at that. “Are you spoiling my surprise?” Now he chuckled as well. “I said maybe. Plus, I know you don't like big parties. So be warned.” How did he remember? You only mentioned it once. “I'll act surprised. Can't blow your cover, no?” Both of you laughed.

Another week passed. Steve hasn't heard from you in a week, and while he was also worried, he assumed you've gotten busy. He was following the news about what was happening in Iraq, and it looked anything short of easy.

To distract himself, he invited the kids over. It was supposed to be a chill movie night with Dustin, Max and Lucas. And it was for two hours. They got their snacks, ordered pizza, argued over which movie to watch and eventually crashed on the couch to watch said movie.

But then, his phone rang. Who'd call at this hour? Oh wait, what if…

“Hold on, I gotta take this.” Steve looked down at his Nokia with furrowed brows. What was that number? It wasn’t even from the US. Reluctantly and with a pit in his stomach, he got up and walked into the other room.

“Hello?”, he asked.

“Yes, is this Steve Harrington?”, an unknown male voice on the other end of the line asked him. “Yeah.”, Steve mumbled. What was this about?

“This is Corporal Marshall. I'm calling to inform you that your wife has been wounded in combat.” He felt his blood run cold and a shiver creep up his spine at those words. All he could ask was “Is she alive?” Luckily, there was no silence on the other end. “Yes sir, she's alive. Both her legs have been broken. They flew her back to Germany to stabilise her for transport. She's in the process of being flown over to Indianapolis for surgery.” Thank God, you're alive. That's all that mattered for now. Although the fact of both your legs being broken didn't help much. “When will she be here?”, he continued. The corporal gave him exact landing times, how long surgery would take and whatnot. All that mattered is that he knew when you'd be here again.

Once hung up, he realised he'd have to tell your parents. And Robin. Oh God, they'll be so terrified and scared. But you were alive. This could've been a much worse outcome.

Right?

What they told him at the hospital wasn't good, though. “A bomb exploded near her. The rubble hit her lower body. We could find two fractures in her legs. One in her left femur, and one in her right shin bone. She also fractured her hip, and we don't know how severe it is yet. There's some burns and gashes, but those aren't our main concern. We will let you know after surgery.” The infodump overwhelmed him greatly. He'd have to repeat all of this back to you. Explain why you'd be sitting in a wheelchair for months.

“That sounds like a lot of physio and medication.”, he mumbled. The doctor simply nodded. “Both will be vital to her recovery. That is if she can ever walk again, but the first prognosis was good.” If you can walk again? He hasn't known you very long, but he knew how much you loved your independence. This would crush your entire world.

Both your parents and Robin rushed down the hospital hallway to see you. It calmed them down greatly when they didn't see him cry. Your parents thought this was a love marriage, so to them his emotions were crucial. But it didn't help Robin much. “What happened? Is she okay? Where is she?” Steve has to hug her in order for your best friend to not have a nervous breakdown. “She'll be fine. Still alive, and kicking it in surgery.” It calmed her down a bit, but Robin was an anxious person after all. “Deep breaths, come on. You'll both be fine.” She was so scared that you'd die up until this very moment that she kinda forgot how to breathe. “I'll get a coffee with her. She needs some time.”, Steve told your parents. They gave him an understanding nod, and off he went.

“I was so scared, Steve.” She was quiet until the two of them sat down, him with a coffee and her with a hot chocolate. Although those being her first words were expected. “I thought she died, but this might even be worse for her than death.” One thing Steve knew about you from the start was that you loved being independent. You also loved your job, and both these things require working legs. “There's a chance she can walk again.” It wasn't exactly a working attempt of calming her down, Robin tends to get in her head about everything. “And the chances are good. The doctor told me.” He could see Robins trembling hands while taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

“Won't she be in a wheelchair? She's gonna hate that…” For once, she wasn't hyper. Well, she wasn't calm either, but at least she wasn't physically freaking out. Alas, none of Steve's attempts to calm her worked out. There would be no way of consulting her until you woke up right in front of her eyes.

Robin watched over you like a hawk as soon as she was able to enter your room. Seeing you hooked up to this many machines, hearing the beeping of your heart and watching your vitals on the monitor, it was horrifying. It was scary. Even more to her than your parents. Eventually, your eyes fluttered open.

“Oh my god, you're alive.”, Robin choked out when she saw you wake up. Your vision was blurry, and your head was spinning as you tried to grasp what was happening. Did you die? You were in combat just a minute ago. How did you end up here? Why couldn't you feel anything from the waist down? Your mouth was so fucking dry, too.

Once you were able to see just a little bit, you saw your parents, Robin and Steve by your bedside. God, so many people. You felt claustrophobic like this. “Go.” All four shared a confused look when they heard you mumble. But you swatting sloppily in your parents and Robins direction was enough. Steve was your first of kin, he'd know the most about what happened.

Once the room was empty, you felt like you could somewhat breathe again. Although this was awkward for Steve. He'd lived with you for barely 3 months before you had to ship out again. How well could you know a person to tell them that their hip and legs were broken?

“Just be honest, Steve.”, you mumbled after seeing his face. There was someone seriously wrong with you, it would explain why you couldn't feel your legs. He took a deep breath in, trying to find the right words. “I didn't understand what really happened. There was an explosion, and some things hit you. Your…left femur is broken, and your right shin bone shattered. Your hip is fractured, and…some burns, and gashes. Anything from the waist down, really.”

“Well, that's inconvenient.”, you mumbled. How was he supposed to react to that? Of course multiple bone fractures are inconvenient. What happened to his original fear of this crushing your world? “Surgery done?” He nodded his head. “Yeah. Your bones are fixed up, and they did a skin graft. The doctors said you might need a follow-up surgery, but they're gonna check and see once you heal a bit.” A growl left your lips as you leaned back into your pillow. This will greatly impact the entire course of your life from now. Will you ever be able to walk again? Work? Run? Have a normal life?

“I don't know if it matters much, I don't understand it a lot, but they said you'll get a purple heart.” You scoffed at his statement, and Steve felt like he said something wrong. “No, no, it's not you. It's…well, a purple heart is a medal you get when you get hurt in combat. Chest candy, really.” To someone outside of the army, that sounded badass. Everyone would know how much of a badass you are just by seeing you in uniform.

But he wouldn't understand the pit in your stomach. How bad it feels that your uniform will be a constant reminder of the pain, the physical therapy, all the treatments and surgery that could go on for months, or even years. “First official army husband appearance for you then. It's a whole thing…I’ll explain later.” Your eyes wandered off to the window on your right. How much you wished to be out there again. But instead, you were hooked to multiple machines while being pumped full of morphine.

“Steve.” Your tone was hushed. “This means this whole thing will get a lot more…intense.” He just gave you a questioning look, although it didn't take him too long to figure out what you were saying. “You'll have to be the doting husband who loves his wife so much, and whatever. But I'll also need help at home for a while, so…yeah.” The two of you got along well before you deployed, but this? Having him shower you? Dress you? That's a whole other thing, and even more intimate than the single night you two spend together. “We can't let anyone know, we just can't risk it. Okay?” He simply nodded at your request. Steve didn't want this to be discovered either. Not only because he wouldn't have health insurance anymore, but also because you just couldn't lose your job over him. You made it very clear how much you loved your job, as exhausting as it can be at times.

“I won't let you down.”, he promised. “But I'll get the others back in. They'll wanna talk to you.” Robin was probably clawing at the door, waiting to see you again. “That's fine. But remember to stay, or at least talk to my doctors.”

Robin was the first to rush back to your side, asking about a million questions as to how you're feeling, if anything hurts or if she could get you any food. “Robin, please. I'll be fine. You know I'm a kickass.” The joke only worked a tiny bit at calming her down. At least you still had your sense of humor.

You had to stay in the hospital for a few days to recover from surgery. Steve made sure to bring you everything you needed and more. Besides your favourite blanket, pillows and childhood stuffed animal, he also got your favourite snacks, drinks and enough entertainment to last you a while. “At least I'll finally get around to reading.”, you commented as he gave you a brand-new copy of The Sun Dog and Letters From Hell. “Yeah, you always seemed too busy for it. I thought you'd like to catch up.” While both books were new, you bought them when they came out. There was just no time to read them. “That's very thoughtful, thank you.” You gave him a smile and put both books on your nightstand. “Also, some sprite and starbursts for you.” He was really sweet to you ever since the incident, more than a faux husband would have to be. You blamed it on him feeling like he owes you for his medical insurance, but he also grew on you since the wedding. Yes, it was for convenience, but you've also become somewhat of friends before you got deployed again. He's probably doing this for any friend who needs it…right?

“You're doing too much.”, you chuckled while taking the sweets out of his hands. He shrugged his shoulders and continued digging in the duffle bag. “I brought this cause…well, you know.” Steve placed a framed picture of the two of you onto your nightstand. After that, also one of you and your parents and one with Robin. “Oh, the Robin one is my favourite.”, you giggled in an attempt to distract. He picked up on it quickly and looked at the graduation photograph of the two of you. “She told me to bring it, apparently it's her favourite as well.” In fact, Robin gifted it to you. She didn't have the biggest fund in the world, but she always made it work. “Yeah. We look great in it, too.” As a last picture, he placed one of you and Sean. It made you smile, but also wonder how he was holding up in the desert.

“You think Eddie could tell me how he's doing?”, you asked Steve. He knitted his brows slightly, then opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Why was he doing that? Why were there no words coming out of his mouth? “Steve?”

“I…I thought…uhm…” Why was he stuttering? “I thought someone told you…” You sat up straight in your bed, despite the agonising pain that brought you, and looked him directly in his eyes. “Told me what?” This turned him into a stuttering mess, but he eventually found his words while looking down at his hands.

“Sean was there with you during the explosion. He…he didn't make it, (y/n)”

It felt like the weight of the entire world just dropped onto you. He was right by your side since you first came to base. Showed you the ropes. Took you under his wing. Now, he's gone.

Forever.

You didn't notice the tears streaming down your face until Steve handed you a tissue. There was no way you could feel anything, not even sadness. There was just emptiness. As much as you wanted to run away, but your broken legs made it impossible to. You were stuck with this grief monster. “I…I need some time to myself…”, you choked out. Steve simply nodded and left your hospital room.

Besides doctors and nurses checking in on you, you were alone for the remainder of the day. Nothing was fun, or distracted you. No books, no snacks, no favourite pillows. Nothing.

Until Steve was back, with two Happy Meals in hand. “Robin said that would comfort you.” And he was right. Every time you or Robin were going through a hard time, you got a Happy Meal. It gave you childhood nostalgia and reminded you of better times. “Thank you.”, you said while sitting up somehow. Steve was immediately by your side and helped you. He truly became a kind person. In an attempt to distract yourself, you asked “What was your favourite Happy Meal toy as a kid?” But he looked a bit confused. “I never had one before.”, he simply stated. “A toy?” You gave him a confused look while opening your box. Just as you liked it, there was fries, a cheeseburger, orange juice and sliced apples, along with a plastic bag containing a dinosaur toy. “You never had a Happy Meal?”, you asked in disbelief. Steve simply shook his head no. “My parents said it's poor people food, so I never had any.”

“Raised on truffles and caviar, huh?”, you joked while watching him open his box. The joy on his face could be described as that of a child. Somewhere deep inside of Steve, there was still a little boy who just had a wish become true. And he looked even more excited when he took out the small plastic dinosaur. “Hey, you have a triceratops! That's my favourite!” You showed him the velociraptor from your Happy Meal. “That's my favourite!”, Steve said with a chuckle. Without having to say anything, you traded your dinosaurs. And for just a few minutes, you two weren't a fraudulent couple ripping off the state while you were in hospital for severe leg injuries. You two were little kids, exchanging their toys and eating a cheeseburger. Both of your inner children healed a bit that day.

Eventually, you could go back home. Well, going might be exaggerated. You went home in a wheelchair, pushed by Steve while you had your belongings in a bag on your lap. While you were glad to go home and not stare at the sterile, white wall all day, it was still weird. “I'll carry you wherever you have to go.”, Steve promised in the car. “Seriously, whatever you need help with, I'll be there.

He was serious. When you told him you'd rather lay down and calm from the high your painkillers gave you in your own bed, he carried you upstairs like a princess. He brought you food, water, VHS, anything you asked for.

Two days later, you started feeling filthy. Admittedly, you only did basic washing with a washcloth and haven't put on a different outfit since you came back, besides your underwear. But that already put you in pain while putting them on. You needed help getting dressed.

“Steve?”, you yelled from your bedroom. It didn't take him long to run up the stairs and stand in your doorframe. “What is it?”, he asked. His worried look relaxed when he saw you with just some clothes in your hands. “I, uhm…need help putting on pants…it's kinda, well…” He gave you a soft smile. lifted you out of your wheelchair and onto your bed. It would make it much easier. “I hope this is okay…I don't want you to think I'm gawking.” You only chuckled and handed him your sweatpants. “You saw it already, I don't care. I just wanna put on some fresh clothes.”

It humoured you how Steve tried his best to look away while pulling down your old underwear and getting you into new ones. He wasn't this shy when he buried his face between your thighs on your wedding night. “It's okay to look.”, you reminded him again, but it was to no avail. He even looked a little awkward when he touched your butt while pulling up your underwear. “Are they on?” You chuckled at that question. “Very much.” Finally, he looked at you again before getting your sweatpants on. This time, he looked at what he was doing. “Thank you.”, you said once all set, done and back in your wheelchair.

This became somewhat of a routine over the next few days. Eventually, the day came where you were to be handed your new medal. Chest candy, as you called it. He's going to have to get used to the military lingo.

It felt a bit weird, for the both of you, to get you back into your army service uniform. You wore it on your wedding day, but it felt different to see you in it now. It was weird when you were in a wheelchair. He could tell that you felt the same way, based on your disdained face. “It'll be over faster than you'd think.”, he said in an attempt to make you feel better. “And we can get anything you wanna eat after.” That didn't seem to help either, though. He didn't know you enough to tell what would and wouldn't cheer you up. This definitely didn't.

You were embarrassed like this. In uniform, about to see so many higher-ups that were in combat, that came home with minimal injuries, earned medals, are heroes. And you get taken out by a building. Some rubble. How pathetic.

“I'll get you to the car, come on.” It was even more embarrassing that he had to carry you downstairs and into the car. All while in uniform. How humiliating.

While Steve was getting your wheelchair into the back of his car, you quietly sat in the passenger seat and fiddled with your fingers. Ever since coming home from the hospital, this was the first time Steve had to drive you somewhere. You missed driving, or more so using your legs to do anything.

You don't remember much from the ceremony. What you remembered was that Steve helped you on stage, how you shook someones hand and got a pin to your chest. Physically you attended, but not mentally. You didn't want this. Nobody wants a purple heart. Yet you smiled for the camera, to fake how proud you were. There was nothing to be proud of.

You mentally checked back in when Steve went through the McDonalds drive-through and placed a Happy Meal on your lap. A Muppet Baby smiled at you from a small slit in the bag. “Thank you.”, you mumbled. He had you eat it on your way back.

“I'm really exhausted.”, you sighed as Steve helped you get inside the house. He thought of a few ways to help you, but most were likely just from the distress of the whole situation. “Do you wanna take a bath?”, he asked. You thought about his suggestions for a whole, knowing it would include him stripping you naked and having to help wash you. Basically being by your side, your nude body, all the time. This felt so different than just being dressed by him. He could look away while pulling up your underwear, but not this time.

“Sure.”, you decided. It's not like he never saw you naked. There was a wedding night, after all. Or at least something like that. Steve picked you up from your wheelchair and carried you upstairs into your bathroom. The bathtub was big, giving enough space for two people, and there was a collection of bath salts standing right by it. He never got to see your bathroom until now, since he used the one downstairs. The shower was enough for him. Steve sat you down on the closed toilet while getting the bath ready for you. He carefully chose the bath salts for you, lavender for relaxation and a mix of herbs for your muscles. Just by carrying you he could feel how tense you were.

He was awkward while taking your clothes off and putting you in the warm water, but this time he couldn't look away. Unfortunately, it was hard not to stare. You were just too beautiful. But this wasn't about his feelings, this was about doing what would make you feel better, and if that was a warm bath he'd be damned if he made it uncomfortable for you. “Thank you, Steve.”, you mumbled after he set you in and you got comfortable. Letting your legs float in the water was the best thing imaginable right now. “Call me if you need anything.” But you didn't want him to leave. Why?

“Can you stay?” He stopped deaf in his tracks at your words and slowly turned back around. It was almost like in a movie. “Are…are you sure?”, he stuttered. As a reply, you patted the edge of the bathtub. You were sure. “If we had some wine now, we could almost call this a date.” Neither of you expected this to come out of your mouth, yet it did. So you just gave him a wide-eyed look, like a deer stuck in headlights. “I…I mean, I…uh…”

“You shouldn't be drinking, you know that.”, Steve reminded you. Thank God he redirected the conversation. “Maybe we can find some alcohol free ones.”, you replied with a smirk while leaning back. He just chuckled. “I think we eventually need to talk about how much wine you consume.”, Steve joked. As a reply, you slapped a few droplets of water on his leg. He gave you an offended look, but remained seated. “Okay, rude.”, he said with laughter laced in his voice. “If you're this mean before, how will you be after physio?” Even though he mentioned your inability to walk, you didn't mind in this context. It was funny. “I can take you down with my pinky, that's for sure.” Now it was his turn to laugh.

You did physio by yourself. Steve drove you, got you inside and all that, but you did everything by yourself. You couldn't be this vulnerable in front of him. In the meantime, he got groceries, cleaned the car or even bought you small gifts like a new pillow or a nice necklace. He got more creative with it every day, and he saw that it made you happy. At some point, he started making origami stars while waiting in the car and gave you one for every session you did. That's what kept you going, and that's also what made butterflies appear in your stomach.

But all that happiness shattered into pieces the day before Sean's funeral. You could barely sleep the night before and were not ready to get up that morning.

“I don't wanna go.”, you mumbled as Steve already pulled out your dress uniform. He made sure all your medals looked prim and proper on your jacket. “You know who you're doing this for.”, he reminded you. Unfortunately, he was right. You thought you could ignore this grief, but knowing Sean's parents, little sister and Eddie were expecting you, you let Steve help you out of bed. Just like with the medal ceremony, he helped you get into your dress uniform and got you into your wheelchair.

The entire ride was quiet. To be honest, you dreaded facing his grieving family. They took you in so many times when you simply couldn't stand seeing your own family and friends. He even gave you his favourite bracelet, a black and red cord bracelet his sister made him before his first deployment. Maybe he knew his fate. But right now, you had it on your wrist. To honour Sean, and to give Eddie later.

The drive to the graveyard was quiet. Being in uniform while being pushed in a wheelchair was still humiliating, but you've gotten used to it by now.

You knew the procedures of a military funeral. The speech, the gunfire, folding the flag. You'd be standing there and folding it with them if you could stand on your own. But you couldn't. You only broke your legs, but he was lying dead in a casket. For the first time, some kind of guilt overcame you. And you couldn't even give a last respect with a standing salute. Or so you thought.

“Steve, hold me up.”, you whispered to him. He was reluctant at first, but eventually put one arm around your stomach and another under your armpit to hold you upright. And that's how you saluted to Sean one last time.

Eddie stayed longer than everyone else. He put on a brave face and didn't cry the entire time, but once everyone left, he broke down. Ugly sobbs left his mouth as he kneeled by his boyfriends grave. The worst part was that nobody knew. They barely told Sean's family about their relationship, maybe his sister at best, and it didn't feel right to tell them now. Steve pushed your wheelchair towards Eddie and let you two be alone.

Quietly, you patted his back as he let all his emotions out. This wasn't the first time he cried due to his boyfriends death, and it won't be the last. Maybe this was the first time he got comfort for it. You didn't know if he told his uncle. After a while, he glanced over to you while trying his best to hide his face behind his hair. It didn't work much. You removed the bracelet from your wrist and held it out for him to take.

“He gave me this…like 2 days before it happened.”, you said. “I think he knew…and I also think he'd want you to have this.” With shaking hands, Eddie took the bracelet from you. “Are you…are you sure?”

“Eddie, I've never been surer of anything in my life. Take it from me, I got married to Steve after just a week.” It made him laugh a bit, maybe his first laugh in weeks. “Yeah. You're still crazy for that.” Without asking, not that you minded, he sat down on the ground and leaned his head against the side of your wheelchair. Steve stood fat away, yet still watched the two of you. This may be the start of a beautiful friendship, despite the unfortunate circumstances.

A week after the funeral, Robin and Steve picked you up from physio together. When Steve rolled you out, you spotted Robin with a dog by her side.

“Robin, did you get a dog?”, you asked with a surprised tone as you watched her walk up to Steve and you with a dog next to her. It was a beautiful one, a golden retriever with perfectly brushed fur and a wide grin. Or as much as dogs can grin. “Not quite. He's for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“He's a service dog. Since you don't like help from humans, we thought you'd take a dog. His name's Charlie, and he's yours now.” Robin gave you no choice and handed you the leash, basically pressing it into your hand. “Why would you get me a dog without asking? And who's we?” Steve scratched the back of his neck, clearly feeling caught. Robin, however, didn't care. “You need to accept help. And since you don't want us to, he will. He can open cabins, grab you your meds, get you a blanket. He can even alert Steve when his blood sugar is low.” You scoffed and let the leash fall out of your hands. “Then let him have it. I don't need a damn dog.” Charlie went on to grab his leash with his mouth and try to hand it back to you. It was actually a bit impressive that he knew how to do that.

“You need help. Everyone does, but right now you do. And if you keep being an ass about it, you will never get better.” Steve gave Robin a wide-eyed look at her words. He wouldn't even dream of talking to you that way. But the friendship between the two of you was different than his towards you. “You're a real bitch, Robin.”, you grumbled before taking the leash again. “Hi Charlie.” The dog jumped up on your legs and started licking your face. It made your best friend laugh, and even your faux husband had to stifle his giggles. “See Steve, that's why I hate the wheelchair.” That was basically his final straw to burst out laughing. He had a beautiful laugh when it was genuine, you didn't mind it. Admittedly, you've put him through hell in the last few weeks. Maybe some weird part of you desperately wanted to hate him. The past would never be erased; you were scared he was still King Steve in some way. But he wasn’t. That part of him was in the past and stayed there.

“Alright, alright, let's get him home. I need a nap anyways.” And so it was. Charlie enjoyed the open window in the backseat while you were actually happy about not driving for once. “I have to admit, he's cute.”, you said while watching your new dog through the rear view mirror. There was a big grin on his lips as you said that. “Knew you'd like him.”, he teased, still grinning. It made you laugh a bit. “Careful with that tone, Harrington.”

At home, Steve helped you get on the couch. Like he just knew, Charlie grabbed you a blanket and threw it down next to you. “Smart boy.”, you cooed while scratching him behind his ear. After getting cuddled in, Charlie laid down next to the sofa. “Sleep well, I'll be in the kitchen!”, Steve told you before turning the corner.

A few days later, when Steve picked you up from physio, he watched you come back out walking on crutches. Immediately, he stepped out of his car to take a closer look. “What's going on here?”, he asked with a huge grin. You had a matching one on your face. “I wanted to surprise you!” Charlie trotted along next to you as your steps got closer to him. “One legs is all good, just my left leg is still wonky.” He helped you getting inside the car, and for some odd reason, today it made your heart flutter when he helped you inside the car. “Thank you.”, you husked, not noticing the red hue on your cheeks. But Steve noticed, and replied “Any time, Commando.” with a smug smirk.

You kept going to physio. Getting your ability to walk again was your ultimate goal, after all. Every day, you told Steve how much progress you made but kept one thing secret. It was a surprise you'd reveal in a few days.

Today was the day.

“Hey Steve!”, you yelled from the living room. Since he became somewhat of a close friend, it was a given you'd have to surprise him with your newly learned skill. So you stood up, without the crutches, and waited for him to come in. “Everything okay in he-” He cut off the second he saw you walk a few steps by yourself with a wide grin on your face. “See, I can do it again.” Unfortunately, you wobbled a bit and he quickly made his way over to catch you. But that didn't falter your spirit once. “Those were seven steps! Did you see that?” Your joy could be compared to that of a child.

“When did you learn how to do that?! That was amazing!” When you looked up and saw the matching grin on his face, a funny feeling spread in your stomach. You blamed it on the excitement you felt from walking so many steps. “Physio! It's helping so much! I'll outrun you again in no time.” Even Charlie caught up on the excitement and started jumping on your leg. Steve helped you sit down on the couch before plopping down next to you. “Those weren't baby steps, those were big girl steps.”, he joked. It made you chuckle, happy to have someone to share the excitement with. “I'm taking women's steps again soon enough. Oh, and then I can put on my pretty heels again! The things I could wear.”

In that moment, it showed Steve why he fell for you. The pure joy you showed him, how much you shared, that he made you so happy. There wasn't nothing better than being one of the few people to see you this happy.

Your excitement only grew from that day. Seven steps became nine, and nine became 15. The day you climbed up the stairs to your bedroom again without any help might have been the happiest day of your life. Even though there was the slightest pain coming from your hips, that didn't matter. You gained back your independence, and it made you ecstatic.

Steve, however, grew very protective of you. Not because he wanted to keep you dependent, but because he was anxious something might happen that could make you end up in the wheelchair again.

Slowly, he grew more fearful each day you took another step, while you got more annoyed each day.

It started with understandable things, like getting things for you you'd have to bend down for. That still was very painful for you, so you were somewhat grateful even though that's what Charlie could've done. Then, he started reaching for cabins despite the fact you could reach them. That's when the anger started growing inside you. You could reach upwards, you wanted to. But you tried brushing it off, knowing he might just have to get used to you being independent again. And then, the doting started. From asking you if you need help in the bathroom, to trying to help you get dressed. He wasn't even this protective when you were incapable of walking, why did this start now? It's not like he ever told you, or gave you a good reason. Eventually, just being in the same room as Steve made you wanna throw a plate at his face.

As a pick-me-up, you decided to bake your favourite treat: Cinnamon rolls. And you'd do it all by yourself. At least you thought you would.

“Let me do it.”, Steve said while grabbing the cinnamon from the shelf. You took a sharp breath in, caused by your annoyance. Why wouldn't he let you do anything by yourself? Just one single thing. You could walk again for the most part, your doctors cleared you. Steve wouldn't even let you make cinnamon rolls by yourself. “Thanks.”, you grumbled while taking the spice from his hands.

Next step was getting a bowl. Bending down was still hard, but Charlie was already opening the cabin to grab it for you. However, Steve got in the way and grabbed it first. “There you go.” The smile on his face fucking infuriated you. That's the kind of thing he and Robin got Charlie for you. Why can't he just let him work? “He had it.”, you said while taking the bowl and setting it down. “Just…wanna help.”, he mumbled. A small nod and huff was your response.

Alright, you'd just need to measure flour now. But did Steve have to be this close the entire time? He was basically breathing down your neck. And when his hand went to grab the flour from yours, you snapped.

“Will you fucking stop!?” The scream didn't even sound like it came out of your own body. It made him flinch and look at you with a slightly scared face. “I-I'm trying to help...”, he stuttered. That just made it worse. “I don't need help! I can fucking do it by myself!” The bag of flour in your hand flew through the kitchen and exploded once it hit the wall. You don't even remember throwing it. “Leave me the fuck alone! Stop treating me like a child!” That's what infuriated you the most; that he made you feel like a little kid. “I'm not…” Steve's voice was barely above a whisper, and he looked terrified. “Yes you are, Steve! I'm not your fucking daughter, I'm a grown woman who went to war in Iraq and had both her legs broken!” At this point, your throat was burning from screaming. Maybe it was also because you held back your tears; until you didn't.

You went to war in Iraq and had both your legs broken.

Finally, your voice died down. “Fuck…” You leaned against the kitchen counter and hid your face in your hands. It was a dumb idea, he could see your entire body shake as the pent-up tears left your eyes. You haven't cried once since you were first injured. Not when you got your diagnosis, not when you watched your parents and Robin cry at your bedside, not when you came home in a wheelchair. But this? That was one too much.

Steve watched you slide down against the kitchen counter. He knew that was your kryptonite. If your knees were on or above your hip level, you couldn't get up again without aid. But he couldn't help you. You made that clear. And it hurt him so much. Steve saw you at your most vulnerable, helped you to walk again, dressed you, washed you. But that wasn't actually your most vulnerable. This was. And this time, he couldn't help you.

“Do you think I wanted this? Do you think anyone actually wants a purple heart?” Considering he never knew much about any sort of military life, that never went through his head. How much does it have to mess with your head to receive a medal for being injured? Why did he never, not even once, think about how it must be to live inside your head right now. The scars on your body were visible, but not the ones on your heart. Maybe that's why he never realised that the emotional pain must be worse than the physical one. He couldn't see it.

“I got both my legs and hip broken, and all I got was chest candy and a shitty skin graft.” Your crying turned into laughter as you laid down on the kitchen floor. It was covered in flour, which landed in your hair and on your skin. “I'm going fucking insane, Steve.”, you laughed out. “And don't even try to help me now. I will take you down, you asshole.” He couldn't do anything but slowly back out of the kitchen. Charlie laid down next to you and watched your every move, or lack thereof. Your dog was the only help you'd accept right now, and that was only because Charlie didn't know any better. Helping you was what he was trained to do, and at least he didn't keep telling you what you can and can't do.

You stayed like this for hours. Steve occasionally glanced into the kitchen, seeing if you were okay. He couldn't fully see you most of the time because Charlie kept getting on and off your chest. But if he didn't hear you breathe, he would've thought you were dead. That's how stiff you were laying on the ground. Three hours in, he was pacing around the living room while thinking of anything to help you. But there was nothing he could do. He fully believed your threat, knew that even with a funky hip you’d overpower him.

After passing by the kitchen again, he stopped at the phone attached to the wall a few feet from the door. Steve was about to grab it and dial Robin's number when he heard you talk to Charlie. “I'm deformed, Char. Have you seen my legs? They're fucking hideous.” The chuckle that left your mouth didn't even sound human. “Skin graft is gonna work, they said. Good as new. Fuckin’ bullshit.”

He hated the way you talked about yourself. Those scars showed your bravery. There was nothing more beautiful than that. How much he wished you could see your scars the way he did. But he decided against calling Robin. He'd have to deal with this by himself.

While getting his clothes for sleeping from your bedroom an hour later, he watched Charlie get your blanket and drag it out. Before he could even properly check what he was up to, he ran back in to get your pillow. Was he bringing them to you? After getting dressed, he decided to check in on you one last time.

Charlie made you a little bed on the flour-covered kitchen floor. He even grabbed Steve's blanket from the living room so you'd have something to lay on. Unbeknownst to you, your fraud husband risked sweating all night and turned up the thermostat so you wouldn't be cold. The floor you picked was probably the worst one to sleep on. He heard your service dog open a cabin, followed by the rattling of your pain killers.

Maybe he has been doing too much. You could walk again, take baths by yourself, grab things from the shelf. Steve got so caught up in wanting to show how grateful he was for you that he unintentionally became ungrateful for you being alive. Everything he helped you with for months you could do again. In all technicalities, as long as you didn't fall, you didn't need him anymore. If the bomb never went off, you would've never needed him at all. But he needed you. First for your TRICARE, and now…just you.

While you were snoring on the kitchen floor, Steve tried to sleep on the couch. But he simply could. He fell in love with you; now he had to helplessly watch you sleep on the floor and refuse any help. Every hour, he got up and went in to check on you just to see you sleep while cuddled up to Charlie. It didn't change, except the side you were sleeping on.

With any luck, Steve got two hours of sleep in before getting up and seeing what you were up to again. By now, your eyes were open and you tried to grasp onto anyone to get back up. You were also incredibly drowsy from your pain killers, like every morning.

“Can I help?”, Steve reluctantly asked. Your half-closed eyes met his, and you hummed in agreement. He picked you up, princess style, and carried you to the couch. Charlie followed after him, but neither of you knew why he followed this closely. “Thank you.”, you mumbled while trying to fight the drowsiness. “It's okay”, he husked while laying you down on the couch. It's not that you needed more sleep, but after a night on the floor you needed this.

As he got back up, a sudden wave of dizziness hit him. Charlie started barking like crazy and tried to move him to get his insulin. When was the last time he ate? “Steve, sit down.” Suddenly, you were up again and hurrying around the house. Where did this sudden energy come from? Like you instantly sobered up. As told, he plopped down on the couch and started breathing heavily. You were rushing to get his glucose meter and insulin, which he luckily all kept together in a pouch.

He didn't even have to show you what to do. You just did, like you were getting commands from your head. “How'd you know?”, he mumbled with his head rested against the wall behind the couch. You just shushed him while working on getting him his insulin.

Once all set and done, you sat down next to him. “How long until it kicks in?” Now he was the drowsy one Charlie got a blanket for. “20 minutes.” You nodded while laying down with him, arms wrapped around his torso for some warmth. It must be scary…like it was scary for you to not be able to walk anymore. “It's gonna be fine.”, you kept mumbling, although unsure if you said it to him or yourself.

This was Steve's heaven. Laying with his head on your chest, feeling your warmth, your arms being so tight around him. He'd do anything to get used to this. “What can I do?”, he mumbled in a sleepy tone. You made a questioning “Hm?” sound and looked down slightly. “To not dote over you so much.” A sigh left your mouth. You barely remembered what happened last night, for some reason. But there was a lot of screaming, crying and apparently wasted flour. “Just…let me do things by myself. Or at least ask if I need help.” Steve hummed in response. That wasn't a hard task, although that was easier said than done. “Okay.”, he mumbled. Finally, his shaky hands found your waist and held on. This time, you didn't mind in the slightest. It didn't even feel as alien-ish as the last few times did, whenever you had to pretend in public. This was a private moment, and it felt…good. Why? Why did Steve Harrington make you feel butterflies?

“Thanks for asking, Steve.”, you whispered. He remained quiet, taking his time to breathe in your scent, feel your warmth and listen to your heartbeat. It was fast right now. But it helped him calm down and feel better. Eventually, the dizziness stopped and he was able to feel like himself again.

“Better?”, you mumbled. He nodded yes, but still hung onto you. “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” After everything you put him through yesterday, some comfort is the least you could do. Besides…you didn't mind this. It felt good. Like it was meant to be. “Of course. Anything you need.”

Steve bullied you. He made high school a living hell for you. You dreaded school every morning because of him. And yet here he was, cuddled up in your arms like you were the life he held onto. Steve was also just a scared boy who went through too much, and now has to deal with a potentially deadly illness. Being him must be scary right now. And what was worse is that there were damn butterflies in your stomach. You were falling for him, and it was happening fast. Besides, he really redeemed himself. Robin was right; he changed.

Slowly, Steve fell asleep in your arms. You weren't aware that he barely slept all night because of his worries. Not until much later, at least. But right now, no amount of flour in your hair or butterflies in your stomach mattered. All that you cared about right now was to make him feel safe, and cared for. He took good care of you when you couldn't walk, even if he overdid it, so this is the least you could do.

Soft snores escaped his mouth as he slept on top of you. But his death grip didn't change. He held on for dear life.

You stayed like this for a while. In fact, it was so comfortable that you fell asleep yourself with Charlie next to the couch. But waking up with him still on top of you…it felt right. Like you are meant to be here just like this. Nobody ever made you feel like this before.

“Good morning.”, Steve mumbled when he slowly woke up. His eyes scanned the room, assessed the situation he was in and came to the conclusion that this was the best nap he's ever taken. With you as his pillow? Hardly anything can top that.

That morning changed everything about the dynamic between you two. You craved each other's warmth, the comfort, feeling near to someone. It only took 2 more days until you started sleeping in the same bed. That was when you admitted to having feelings for him, which wasn't easy but happened. It was genuinely insane to you, how a fraudulent marriage could turn into a real one.

It became crystal-clear one night.

“Can I ask you something?”, Steve started. You looked over with a half-mouth full of pizza. “Hmm?” The tone was muffled due to your mouth being full. It made him chuckle, especially when he saw a string of melted cheese coming out. Even like this, you gave him butterflies.

“What do you want from your future?”

That was honestly a tough one for you. Join the army, that was the plan for years. And what comes after? You never considered. While chewing and swallowing, you took your time to think of an answer. “I don't know.”, you finally said. “Marriage, kids…well, I didn't plan to get married like this, but you know…” Steve was a bit surprised that you didn't have a whole plan. You always seemed so ready for everything. “What about you?” At this moment, you realized you never asked him what he wanted in life.

“Marriage, but I didn't plan on it this way either.” Another chuckle left his lips. “And kids. 6 little Harringtons.” You gave him a raised eyebrow.

“I don't know if I can do that.”

You didn't mean to say it like this. In fact, you didn't want to admit your feelings ever. This was purely business. Or was it?

“What do you mean?” He sat up straight from his slouched position, like Charlie when he saw a piece of bacon. “I…I don't…uhm…” You fumbled over your words, which was a hard thing to get you to. But it was perfect for Steve.

“Do you…”, he didn't need to finish his sentence, because you interrupted him. “I do, okay? The vows were a lie back then, but they're real now. And I really, really don't care what you say now, but I know how you treat me.” It was true. That's how he shows you how he likes you. It was an open secret.

“I wasn't gonna deny it.”, he said. His tone was quiet, yet serious. How did he manage to always make your knees weak? “You…I started developing feelings a long time ago. I can't tell you when, but it was clear when you showed me your first steps.” That was so long ago. And he didn't back down once? That's true love?

“Do you think our marriage could be real?”, he finally asked. Against all his expectations, you giggled and cuddled up to him. Like an instinct, his fingers started tracing up and down your spine carefully. “I think so. Do you?” His fingers stopped their movements, they rested on your hips and held on tight. “I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't hoping for it.”

For the first time ever, a man made you feel like a schoolgirl in love. You haven't deemed it possible, but there you were. In Steve Harrington's arms, feeling safe and secure. Knowing he liked you despite your PTSD, your scars, your temper. And now, maybe even love you. How beautiful was that?

“So, what does that make us now?” It was a no-brainer to you. “We're married already, no? How about we drop the act and are…actually married. Husband and wife. I'll even take your last name.” That last sentence made him pull back a bit and look you in the eyes. There was not a hint of doubt behind them. You were 100% serious. “I'd like that. A lot, actually.”

Like an instinct, Steve pulled you in for a kiss. This one was so much different than the one you two had at the courthouse almost a year ago. Back then, it was all an act. Now, it was real, it was passionate with so much love behind it. So real that it got extremely heated and your hands traveled underneath his shirt. Your husband broke the kiss and looked at you.

“Can you…uhm…” The awkwardness was apparent. How do you ask someone Is your hip healed well enough to thrust into you like a madman? But it was actually really sweet to you. He cared so much…and you pushed him away for so many months. “I'm cleared for everything, Steve.”, you giggled. That was good enough for him, and he happily let you slide his shirt over his head.

The following morning, you woke up next to him. The last time that happened, you two were just getting tension out. Now, this was for love. Actual love. Plus, seeing his sleeping form wasn't anxiety inducing like it used to be after your makeshift-wedding night. It was so lovely. His lips were slightly parted, and small snores left his mouth while the sun hit his gorgeous face. Your hand reached out to stroke a strand of hair back, but it made his eyelids flutter. “Good morning.”, you mumbled once Steve's gaze found yours. His brown eyes looked so beautiful in the sun, even if he knitted his brows from being blinded. “Morning, sweetheart.” Fuck, was his raspy morning voice always this attractive? If it was up to you, he could take you again right now. “Can we invest in some good blinds?”, Steve mumbled while hiding his face underneath the blanket. It made you giggle and join him in the little ford he built. “This is so much more fun though, no?” While you couldn't see him well, his chuckle made you aware he was right in front of you. “It would be, if the air wouldn't get so bad.” He heard you giggle, and it was like music to his ears. “I like to think I take your breath away just fine.” That was true, Steve thought. You were about the most beautiful, intelligent and kickass wife he could've asked for. “I think I can make yours hitch, if you let me.”

And you did.

Weeks later, Steve decided to propose. For real, this time. Both of you agreed to get married in church, and you didn't ask nor expect a proposal. You two were married already. But not on Steves watch.

He planned all of it carefully, with so many details and some help from Robin. You were already wondering why he started building a gazebo in the backyard, but put it off as decor. After all, he was truly living with you now. He has every right to make himself comfortable. Plus, he got butterflies all over again when you brought him something to drink while he was working on it.

But his actual motive was to propose to you, right in that gazebo. He liked the idea of having the place he proposed to you where the two of you lived. And he can always take it with him if you move; it'll never be gone.

Steve was gloating once it was finished. He showed you all the little details he included, why he put them there and lastly the golden platter drilled in the center railing. Mrs & Mr Harrington, with the date of your church wedding. Honestly, that already felt like a proposal to you and you gave him many kisses on the spot.

Robin took you to get your nails and hair done the next day. It was one of her spontaneous ideas, and blamed it on her having a date later that day, but not wanting to do the whole cosmetics thing by herself. Steve gave the both of you money for it. You were still unsuspecting of everything. Only when Robin tried to nudge you into shades like baby pink or classic french tips instead of the blue glitter you actually wanted was when you started questioning her motives. After a long discussion, you agreed on baby pink with some rhinestones.

It continued at the hair salon. She insisted you should get your hair curled, even though you didn't really feel like it. Plus, why should you? You didn't have to go on that date with her. “I haven't seen you in curls since high school. They looked good, they'd still look great now!” Right, you thought, that seems fair enough. And they'd be out by tomorrow anyways. So you agreed on curls.

While Robin's behaviour was rather weird, you didn't question it. Robin was weird. Always has been. That's why you loved her so much. “I need a pep talk from Steve before tonight, can I come in with you?” Of course she could. Nobody gives first date pep talks better than Steve. And while Robin suspiciously walked behind you, nothing that was about to happen would have occurred to you.

There were rose petals laid out on the floor, marking a way to the backyard. Robin was grinning like an idiot, and somehow now held a camera in her hands. “What's going on?”, you asked.

“Just walk.”, she insisted. So you did, until you were met by Steve in your backyard. He looked prim and proper, in a white button-up shirt and black pants. The grin on his face was borderline idiotic, but you immediately understood what was going on.

“Steve, what the fuck?”, you said under laughter. It was due to disbelief. You told him you didn't expect him to propose again, and you truly didn't think he would. But there he was, taking your left hand in his and placing a kiss on your forehead. Steve took a deep breath in before starting to talk. “(y/n), I didn’t expect any of this- when we got married. It was just paperwork, a signature- just to save my life.” You were already getting teary eyed at that alone. To think that this is how it started was genuinely insane. “You’ve trusted me to see you in your most vulnerable state after returning from Iraq, having to learn how to stand on your own again. Dealing with pain most people would collapse under. But I got to be there every step of the way, even if you didn’t want me there at some points. It was the biggest honor of my life. And then you let me see you put yourself back together.” His gaze never left yours, seeing the pure love in his eyes and a small, teary glaze over them. You could feel how his hand was getting shaky, and so was his breath.

“I didn’t expect to fall in love with you when we first agreed on this. Honestly, I never even expected you to love me back. But here I am, standing in front of you like some big sap, asking you if we can do this for real this time. No loopholes. No pretending.” Both of you chuckled a bit, despite your ugly crying, and you could hear a small giggle from Robin who was taking pictures like a pro. Steve reached into his back pocket and got down on one knee.

“So, will you marry me again? Because this time we want to? Because we love each other- because I love you more than I thought was even possible.” At this point, you were crying like a small child. Robin captured every second of it with her camera, including your ugly crying. “Of course I'll marry you.”, you sobbed. After placing the ring on your finger, the actual ring, Steve got up to wipe your tears away and kiss you. Not for a second did he care about your running mascara or snotty nose. All he wanted was to kiss you until you couldn't breathe.

“Didn't think I could make you cry like this.”, he whispered against your lips before kissing you once again. You giggled into the kiss with a small huff. After everything that happened, this was perfect.

When the excitement and hassle calmed down and Robin drove back home, you and Steve were cuddled up on the couch. Not once have you wanted to let go of him today, so now you held onto him with a cobra-like grip. Not that he minded, he never would. “Did I tell you Robin made the cake topper already?”, he randomly asked. You looked up at him with a questioning look, wondering what he was on about. The two of you chose one weeks ago already. After a bit of pouting from you, he got up and disappeared in your bedroom, then came back with a little box in his hands. Once he sat back down next to you, and you went full cobra on him again, he showed you the contents of said box.

The two McDonalds toy dinosaurs were dressed up in wedding clothes. His velociraptor in a tuxedo, and your triceratops in a wedding dress. As funny as it looked, it also summed up your relationship; two idiots, who are absolutely in love with each other and healed each other's inner wounds.

“I like these more than the one we originally chose.”, you giggled. “Can we still return the other one?” Steve gave you a kiss on the lips with a smirk on his face.

“We can do anything you want, baby.”

“Mommy! Mommy!” Your 5-year olds legs ran as fast as they could carry her once you walked through the gate. A 6-month deployment felt like 6 years, now that you had three kids and a husband to come home to. She jumped up into your arms without thinking twice. “Hi baby.”, you giggled before showering her face in kisses. A giggle escaped her lips. While Jocelyn was in your arms, your 3-year old, Sean, wriggled out of his father's grasp to run up to you as well. At this point, you kneeled down to hug both of your kids. “I missed you guys so much.”, you told them while holding back tears. They'll come out later.

Steve was last to come up to you, with your 8-month old daughter Valerie in a baby carrier strapped to his chest. He patiently waited for his turn to kiss you, knowing that your two older kids have not stopped talking about seeing you again for weeks. With one kid on each hand, you stood back up and leaned in to kiss your husband. Finally, for the first time in 6 months.

“I missed you.”, he whispered against your lips, then kissed you again. And again. And again. “Eww!”, Jocelyn said while pulling a face. That's what made you two seperate. “To be continued.”, you whispered to Steve before leaning down to kiss Valerie on the top of her head. “You're so big, Val.”, you mumbled, a bit saddened. It wasn't fun to not see her grow up, especially when she was still a baby. Steve saw your saddened expression and immediately tried to change the mood. “How about McDonalds, yeah?”, he suggested. There was no way you'd stay sad when seeing your kids grin, and their soon-to-be smeared faces. “Happy Meal!”, Sean squealed in excitement.

Being away sucked, but seeing their faces when you returned showed you that they didn't love you any less.

[fangirl-docintraining]

I’m calling this post a Medical Monday™️ post (just gonna go ahead and summon @tragicallyuncreative from her ER shifts for this)

I’m back working in the hospital for this week of my rotations and I feel it is past time I address this topic because I see so many older men in their 60’s and 70’s and it’s been in my head so

Here’s what chronic medical conditions I genuinely worry each member of the gang would get because I know too much and think too hard 😂

Darry: hypertension, bros blood pressure has probably been high since like the beginning of time. Betty hounds his ass and makes sure he takes his meds tho. Also a little coronary artery stuff but nothing major, once again Betty was on that shit long before it could be a problem.

Soda: actually he might be the one I’m least worried about tbh 😂 he’s probs got some high cholesterol but otherwise I actually feel like he’s chillin on a statin. Oh and his knee is arthritic but he probs gets a knee replacement and is like running around after that

Ponyboy: My brother in Christ, your LUNGS 😭 I just know he’s got COPD by like 62 at best and he’s got oxygen he’s gotta wear and he complains about it constantly

Johnny: probably also lungs tbh, though I am much less concerned for him than Ponyboy. But his lungs are also probs not happy. He might get by with inhalers alone for COPD and it drives Ponyboy nuts.

Two Bit: I’m torn yall. His liver is probably very scarred (cirrhosis) so he probs has that. But also he gives the distinct energy of my heart failure exacerbation patient who was on a salt restricted diet because he has too much fluid and all he talked about was once he left the hospital he was gonna get himself a 32 oz steak for dinner. He peed off 50 pounds of water in the hospital 💁🏼‍♀️ and that just screams two bit to me. Bro’s drowning in fluid and is like it’s fine my legs are just swollen 😀

Steve: I fear bro keeps bonking his head, so maybe some long term concussion stuff. Also he def gets arthritis and talks about it constantly (also uses it to get out of doing things)

Dally: I know bro sees a doctor once a decade at best and they once warned him about his numbers being borderline for diabetes and he was like nah. Next time he goes to doctor years later, his A1C is ten and he’s still like “im not diabetic” Betty is horrified 😂

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Eddie, who becomes so in tune with Steve it’s actually crazy. Steve lovingly dubbed it as his “Stevie-Senses,” which Eddie loves and robin hates. Robin calls him a glorified service dog.

Steve’s blood sugar is low? Eddie brings over a juice box or a blue airhead.

Steve’s blood sugar is skyrocketing? Eddie nudges him and asks is he needs a correction.

Eddie even has the app on his phone that is connected to Steve’s pod so he can see where Steve’s levels are at even when they’re apart.

Eddie keeps the packet that Steve made for him on his person at all times, even though he doesn’t need it anymore. He keeps the needles, strips, alcohol wipes, and the monitor in a little pouch.

When Eddie is performing, he makes sure that there are a shit ton of snacks for him, as well as water and a place for him to relax if he needs to.

Steve has never felt so loved and so seen before, which helps solidify Robin’s endearment and approval for the couple.

[old-timmy]

Top Gun/Modern au! The Outsiders

Steve’s middle name is Maverick making his full name Steve Maverick Randle

What I’m thinking is he probably got bored one day and joined the Navy, went through basic Navy boot camp at 17, and served for a year but had to stop for a medical reason like diabetes or something. So he just has dog tags at 18 and depending if people pay close attention or not they’ll just ask about them. The boys definitely mess with him in the morning or any time he’s sleeping and will just yell and bang on stuff like a commander would.

Like I kid you not he just got up one day, bored out of his mind, and was just like, “Imma join the Navy” and left.

It’s like 12 AM and I keep trying to go to bed then waking up and searching things up about the Navy just to write this

[urhoneycombwitch]

thinking some thoughts about Dad!Steve

he wants kids so bad and his baby fever gets crazy the older he gets, especially as his Kids™ start to grow up and graduate and live their own lives so he's basically a 25 year old empty nester vibrating in his skin when he sees a baby in the grocery store or a little kid getting ice cream in their little baseball gear

he reads baby books and the like "What to do when you're expecting" pregnancy advise books, even before having the serious conversation with his partner that he'd like to start trying. I think it settles in pretty quick for him that even though he supplies half of the DNA, he doesn't actually do any work during the 9+ months of pregnancy and he really buckles down to help as much as he can. You ever watch Father of the Bride 2 when Steve Martin takes care of his girls and has the house the perfect temperature even though he's freezing and runs around all over town at different shops for takeout cravings? Yeah, that's Steve. Reader can't eat certain foods due to them making her nauseous/for health reasons like gestational diabetes? Steve isn't eating them either. Like he's fully committed to suffering alongside his partner and doing everything he can for them because he got them pregnant and that's his love, why wouldn't he??

And oooh, he does not stand for anyone putting down his partner and/or the baby? He lets his parents into that part of his life as a second chance, but the moment his mom or dad start to become monster in laws- nope! He packs everyone up in the car and cuts his parents out because no way are you gonna fuck up being a grandparent/in-law like you fucked up being a parent. Like he absolutely takes no shit when it comes to the people he loves.

He's just so Househusband/Dad like that's his destined role and he's so excited to fill it. Some people have dreams about riches and big houses, but he'd trade all that in a heartbeat for a family of his own - a house full of giggles and stains instead of pricey things just for decoration.

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHH.

[magicrainbowkitties]

So yesterday my friends and I

- Were told the story of Steve the Walmart Electronics Guy, who was accosted by a MAGAt for not voting trump (Steve simply said his vote was between him and the box), and who called him a slur, to which Steve replied "Did I see you on Grindr earlier, you're kinda cute." The interaction went from there. I thanked Steve for his service to this country.

- Waited for the friend whose house we were going to to actually get home because traffic sucks so we went to this bar 2 streets away and just chilled there until we got the clear.

- Saw Shrek bc I had never seen it all the way through. Before I had always been made to experience it in chunks.

- Watched all available episodes of Dandadan. Pretty good, I was nerding out over the writing and gorgeous artwork the whole time.

- Chased our host's escape artist dog to another yard when she stopped running only to take a piss and ran back inside the house after the thunder started rumbling in the distance.

- Got caught in the torrential rain on a road with no streetlights and no clear markers. One of us had an essay due at 11:59. The driver couldn't see, and was searching desperately for a port in the storm. We saw the yellow neon glow of the Waffle House. And so the prophecy I had foretold earlier that day came true: "You don't go to Waffle House, you wind up at Waffle House."

- The essay friend is Australian and had/has never been to Waffle House, Rudy's, or Denny's despite living in Texas for a little over 8 years. We had intended to rectify the Waffle House thing at a later date. Evidently the gods had other plans.

- Scared the hell outta poor Kevin the Waffle House Guy because we got a text from...

- The friend whose house we left that he was DRIVING IN THE TORRENT TO MEET US AT WAFFLE HOUSE. Even after I called him to say "You better stay your ass inside." With the WINDOW DOWN blasting a metal song called Storm from some band I don't know (I'm sorry). He's type 1 diabetic and therefore could not eat at Waffle House.

- Made great progress in developing CAIN characters while sitting around and eating chocolate chip waffles.

My roommate (driver) and I didn't get home until after midnight. Fuck what a day. Truly no better day to watch something like Dandadan.

And now I've got an Astronomy test on fuckin election night. Fuck.

Edit: I shouldn't have done any of that because I have an entire annotated bibliography that I was supposed to turn in last night that I thought was due today not last night. Fuck.

[neonponders]

Caramel Heart - Harringrove x ballet!au - ch. 31!

“MOM!”

Billy’s eyes opened where he lay on a foam roller in the home studio. Annette sighed from where she ripped off ice packs from her calves and hip. “What’s that about?”

“He has a pimple,” she informed, earning a barked laugh—

Steve burst into the studio without a shirt. “Mom! What the heck is this?”

Billy craned his head to see upside-down, but wound up rolling onto his side to better see the red speckles all over Steve’s chest. Annette hobbled a little to accommodate for her overworked hip, but did not take long to know his problem: “You need to take a break from shaving.”

“Huh? I can’t not shave. I have cleavage the whole show!”

“Some chest hair will do you good,” Billy crooned, eyes dragging over the promising trail of hair next to Steve’s cgm on his lower belly.

Annette snorted delicately but focused, “Your costume will cover the stubble. And then we can get you waxed.”

Steve’s face froze as he internally recoiled.