#god this turned out way too long I apologise I seriously just wanted Steve lying on the floor and now here we are

[flowercrowngods]

in which they lie on the floor and take care of each other, falling in love somewhere along the way between music and silence

🤍 also on ao3

When Eddie makes it to Steve’s a few hours after the others because he sort of got lost in that song he was working on and completely lost track of time when the words finally cooperated with him and the chords, he is not surprised to hear the sound of laughter and chaotic conversation, accompanied with the upbeat pop music Steve likes so much. What does surprise him, though, is the picture presented to him once he reaches the spacious living room.

The group is sitting in a circle on the luxurious sofa and on the plush carpet, talking and laughing and throwing the occasional pillow. So far so normal. What’s decidedly not normal is the fact that Steve is lying a bit away from the group, still included in their circle from the way they’re sitting, and he is absolutely still.

Eddie’s first instinct is to panic because surely Steve is having a flashback, an episode of some sort, maybe he’s been possessed, maybe he—

No. No, the others wouldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let him lie there like that if it were at all concerning. Eddie tries to calm himself, to breathe away the panic and just be fucking normal.

He catches Dustin watching him and clears his throat, willing an easy expression as he asks, “Hey, uh. What’s up with Harrington?”

“Oh, he’s having floor time,” is what Dustin tells him like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. Like Eddie is supposed to know what that means.

Except, he does. Sort of.

And now that the panic is gone and he looks closer at Steve, he sees that his eyes are open but not unseeing as he is staring at the ceiling. He looks calm. That crease between his brows his gone and everything about him seems relaxed.

Floor time.

Of all the things Eddie could have imagined learning about Steve fucking Harrington, nail bat swinging national hero and hair care extraordinaire, this wouldn’t even have made the list.

And so, with a careful eye still on the boy starfishing on the white carpet, Eddie goes to sit down beside Dustin.

“So. Floor time, huh?”

The boy gives him a sideways glance and nods. “Yeah, it’s sacred. We used to do that at my place all time, it’s strangely calming. It’s kind of our thing.” And he says that with such pride in his voice, stage whispering like he is letting Eddie in on this huge secret, he can’t even find it in him to tap into that jealousy that always used to accompany every mention of Steve Harrington coming out of Henderson’s mouth.

Eddie bumps their shoulders together gently and promptly joins in on the discussion over whether or not it was boring to choose the human race in Dungeons and Dragons, which then turns into explaining to Jonathan why a paladin and a wizard are not the same, until everything derails completely and there are five discussions at the same time and Eddie is having a wonderful time keeping up with all of them.

All the while, though, he lets his eyes wander back to Steve. To the steady rise and fall of his chest, to his hands where they are still relaxed and twitching, not clenched, knuckles white, bracing to fight for his life.

He does feel oddly protective over the boy who usually does all the protecting, at least in that moment. Part of him wants to cross the distance and lie down beside him. Not to talk, not to touch, just to be there. Just so Steve doesn’t have to be alone.

It’s stupid. Steve’s not alone. He has a house full of his closest friends who let him lie on the floor and don’t ask for his attention until Robin grabs the phone to order some pizza. When Steve is back, he looks… Well, he looks good. He always does, sure, but this time he also looks like he feels good. And Eddie stares a bit before Will and Lucas vie for his attention again.

It does indeed become a Thing, like Dustin told him, because the next few times they’re meeting – sometimes at the Byers’, sometimes at the Wheeler’s, but mostly at Steve’s – Eddie will find him lying on the floor at some point of the evening. Not always quiet and zoned out, sometimes he’s actively participating in whatever conversation is the loudest, sometimes he’s watching with a smile on his lips.

Eddie has stopped watching him. Or at least that’s what he’s trying to tell himself. But Steve is okay, it’s his Thing, there is no need to worry, no need to watch. Even when sometimes Steve needs several tries at finding his words again, Eddie has stopped worrying.

It’s a Steve Thing. And it’s really fucking endearing.

He tries not to watch.

But then one day, after a really rough week and one too many threats directed at him, Eddie just… Doesn’t feel like talking. But he doesn’t feel like being alone, either, his hands still slightly shaking from running into Tommy H and his goons that seem to have missed the memo that high school is over and they can start behaving like adults now.

And so he finds himself standing in front of Harrington’s house, bracing himself for the noise, the questions, the demands, the stories, for all the words he really doesn’t want to say today. It takes him another five minutes to ring the bell.

Robin lets him in, and Eddie feels overwhelmed already, but it’s too late to turn around now, so he swallows and heads inside. His heart sinks further when he finds Steve walking around, joking, chiding. Chasing after El when she steals a cinnamon roll that just came out of the oven. Eddie’s heart sinks and it flutters at the same time, and it is that sensation that makes him crumble.

He lies down on the living room floor and hopes that it’s enough, that he won’t have to explain, that he can just… exist.

The noise around him doesn’t stop, but he finds that he doesn’t need it to, because they leave him alone, don’t try to talk to him, give him time to breathe, to gather himself, to be okay. The world fades a bit, but it doesn’t turn upside down.

Floor time is sacred. And he’s starting to understand why. There’s something oddly calming about feeling the hard floor beneath him, about watching everyone from this angle, about staring at the ceiling with no thoughts in his mind.

And he understands why Steve does this so often. Where his hands have been shaking just moments prior, they are calm now. Where his mind revolved around the Upside Down and Tommy H and run, run, run, now they are quiet. Dulled. Like they can’t rech him, like he is safe here. On the floor.

The only thought that comes to him is that everything would be even better with a weight on his body. And for a moment, he imagines Steve lying down on top of him, to ground him some more. Or Nancy or Robin or Jonathan. Hell, even Eleven would do. Maybe one day. It’s about time they implement cuddle piles into their weekly routine, but Eddie doesn’t feel like opening his mouth and asking for that right about now.

He zones out. Lets the magic of the Sacred Floor wash over him and thinks how that would actually make a fine addition to his campaign. Maybe another riddle for Dustin to decipher.

By the time he hears the music, he feels like a completely new person and it takes him a while for the fog to life enough, but then���No way. His eyes widen and immediately find Steve’s where he’s leaning against the doorway to his right with a gentle, knowing smile on his lips.

“It’s always better with music,” he says, almost sheepish, like he’s worried he maybe crossed a line. “Hot chocolate is coming up right away. Leave it if you don’t want it, Dustin will also drink it cold.” Definitely a smile now, fond this time as Steve’s eyes wander to where Eddie assumes he can find Dustin.

He doesn’t look away from Steve, the expression on his face probably still somewhere between disbelief and wonder. And he’s staring. He knows, because Steve gives him that sheepish smile again and starts to speak after a moment.

“I hope Twisted Sister is okay? I actually quite like this album, but I can go see if I can grab something from that Sabbath band you were talking about, or… Metallica? Something like that. Sorry, uhm. Metal is not really my strong suit, as you may have noticed.” He laughs almost nervously and Eddie just melts.

Steve, worried about his music choice for Eddie’s floor time, which he is absolutely ready and willing to go out of his way for as it seems, laughing and rubbing the back of his neck as We’re Not Gonna Take It starts playing is not what Eddie expected of his day when he woke up this morning.

He might actually have a little crush on the Harrington boy, he realises in that moment, as he smiles up at Steve in a way he hopes is reassuring. It’s perfect, he thinks. Like your stupid hair and your nervous little smile.

Steve seems to understand as he answers with another smile of his own, though all traces of nervousness or worry are gone now, replaced with patience and kindness and understanding. It’s almost too much for Eddie to bear and he looks away.

Moments later, Steve reappears in his line of sight and places a mug of hot chocolate well within his reach but still safe from overly energised teenagers.

Eddie is hesitant about it, but in the end it’s the best hot chocolate he has ever had, not even ruined by the smug grin on Steve’s face that said something along the lines of, ‘I have been babysitting this bunch of teenagers for three years now. I know how to make damn fine hot chocolate and you cannot deny it.’

Eddie just shakes his head in dramatic exasperation and hides his smile in his mug.

Eddie tries not to think too hard about his little crush on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s probably nothing but a trauma-related attachment anyway, just like he has with all the kids, with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan. It’s nothing. It’s stupid.

But then one night there’s a thunderstorm rolling over Hawkins and everyone’s probably having a shit night, but Eddie? Oh, Eddie is a mess. Every noise is a bat ripping into his flesh, every time he wants to open his mouth he feels like he’s choking on his own blood. He can’t breathe, can’t drink, can’t eat, can’t stop fucking shaking. Pulling his hair has stopped working a while ago, and he wants nothing more than to go over to Steve’s stupid big house and feel safe again.

Before he knows it, he’s in his van waiting in front of Steve’s house, the lights still on, always on, holding his walkie talkie in shaking hands.

“Hey Stevie?” he finally begins, just as a particularly loud crash of thunder makes him gasp, but he bites his lip desperately and braves on. “You there?”

The answer is immediate and it makes Eddie breathe a sigh of relief. “Eds? Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

It’s past 1:30am, but neither of them are surprised that the other is still awake.

“Yeah,” Eddie laughs, but it’s too shaky to be anything but pathetic. “Sure am. Was just… thinking, y’know.”

A silence follows and Eddie cringes at himself, at his words, at his presence. Why did he think it was a good idea to come over here again without so much as a plan? Oh right, he didn’t think. At all. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Hey, listen, man, do you wanna come over? I mean… Is Wayne home? Stupid thunder, right? I’m… I’m here if you wanna talk, yeah?”

“I don’t wanna talk,” is all Eddie says, his eyes clenched shut as another bolt of lightning lights up the night sky and he counts twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, until he hears that dreadful thunder rolling above.

No, he doesn’t want to talk. What he wants is to just not be alone. To be in the same room, lie on the same floor and share the same air as Steve. The thought of talking while thunder is rolling above them makes his skin crawl, and he deosn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to speak, just wants to— Steve.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, right? Eds? Hang on, is that—Oh Eddie.” Steve sighs, but it’s not exasperated, not annoyed, not angry. It’s fond. Kind. Patient. And Eddie wants to cry.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he just looks at the curtain moving behind the window before Steve spots his van. Eddie lifts his hand and just says, “Surprise?”

And then there’s a bit of static on the other end of the line before Eddie is only met with silence. The sudden moment of complete silence is a stark contrast to, well, everything, and Eddie panics for a moment. But then he sees the front door opening, Steve illuminated by the lights he always keeps on. He looks like an angel, even through the curtain of constant drizzle between them. Eddie’s treacherous insides melt some more when he sees that Steve is coming over with an umbrella in his hand. When he opens the driver’s door with that gentle little smile on his lips and simply offers his arm to Eddie in a gesture so chivalrous that the metalhead cracks a laugh and considers swooning for all but one second before he realizes that his laugh sounded more like a sob of relief.

Gods, but he is a mess.

Whether that is because of the thunderstorm that seems to creep closer and closer, or because he has just compared Stevie to an angel, and now here he is treating him like a gentleman, at ass o’clock, with a look in his eyes like there’s nowhere he would rather be, well. That’s between Eddie and his stupid heart.

Steve leads them inside, shutting and locking the door like he always does before turning back to Eddie. He takes one look at him, enough for Eddie to want to apologise for dropping in like this, but he can’t get the words out before Steve’s already asking, “Metallica or Motörhead?”

And Eddie wants to cry again. Because maybe Steve knows. Maybe he understands.

“Metallica,” he rasps and Steve nods. Smiles. Turns around to head into the kitchen and leaves Eddie where he is, allowing him to follow along or to find his own way, trusting him with that big empty house.

That’s when Eddie realises that he’s never been alone with Steve. Not here, at least. And he kind of wishes that he had come over in a better state, not quite this much of a wreck. But then he wouldn’t have gotten to see the kindness, the patience, the ‘We’re all fucked up here but you’re family so let me take care of you, dammit’-look that Dustin had to suitably dubbed.

Standing in the entry hall, feeling a bit lost and small, Eddie realises that he wants to follow Steve into the kitchen. Wants to stay close, touch him, drape himself over his back and just exist there, in silence and mutual understanding. He doesn’t. But it takes great physical effort to go find his way into the living room instead, sitting down in the white carpet where he had first seen Steve lying on the floor all those weeks ago. He breathes easier now as he runs his hand over the soft, plushy texture and finds himself unwilling to stop. He’s always had a knack for sensory stuff, and touch was by far the most intense, so he splays his palm over the carpet and moves his hands back and forth.

Then the music starts playing and it’s the rather slow first notes of “Fight Fire With Fire” that make Eddie look away from the white plush and back up at Steve, who is standing and watching with a barely-there smile.

The music isn’t very loud, just enough to create a comfortable atmosphere and drown out the rolling thunder. Just for him.

His heart is doing the traitorous shit again where it thinks it’s only beating for Steve Harrington in that moment. He doesn’t have the strength or the will to stop it, though.

And Steve, angel that he is, looking down at him in the dim, warm living room light, puts the two mugs of steaming hot chocolate on the coffee table beside Eddie before promptly sitting down beside him. He meets Eddie’s eyes with all that patience, all that compassion that it gets kind of heavy after a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve murmurs, barely audible over the music, and Eddie just shakes his head. There’s nothing to talk about, just stupid thunder and lightning making his brain feel like it’s being fried and splintering.

“Alright,” Steve whispers and falls back, lying down beside Eddie, who doesn’t have it in him to follow quite yet. His eyes sting. He will not cry in front of Steve fucking Harrington! But then there’s a hand brushing lightly over his back and his voice, so impossibly gentle, telling him, “C’m here, Eds.”

And who is he to deny, to resist, to refuse Steve ‘Kind Eyes’ Harrington?

Eddie slowly lets himself fall backwards, and they just lie there for a while. Not touching, not talking, not moving.

But this time, Eddie’s mind isn’t quiet, because Steve, Steve, Stevie is so close. So gentle. He’s there, he’s here, he understands, and he doesn’t judge. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t question. How can his mind be quiet when Steve is perfect?

How can his mind be quiet when his heart is racing as he slowly, achingly slowly like they do in the stupid movies Nancy loves to watch, moves his hand closer to Steve’s. He’s powerless against the pull of the boy beside him. His heart is beating in his throat when Steve meets his hand halfway, wrapping his pointer finger around Eddie’s pinkie. Their feet find their way to each other, just resting there, basking in each other’s warmth.

He is weak when his head lands on Steve’s shoulder. His eyes close and he breathes — quietly, shallowly, for fear of breaking the moment.

He doesn’t break it. In fact, the moment lasts far longer than the record Steve had put on – because of course he had to play a Metallica record instead of a cassette like normal people would –, and then it is quiet. The soft lights fill the room with warm, indirect safety and finally help his mind quiet down.

Of course, the realisation that he’s maybe a little bit in love with Steve Harrington had to be a quiet one. Soft, gentle, kind, and definitely far from what he ever would have expected. Just like Steve himself.

Of course, where everything else in Eddie’s life was loud — from his music to his kids to the thoughts in his head when he can’t sleep at night —, this one had to be different. Quiet. And when Steve begins to draw patterns into his back where Eddie is now essentially lying on top of him, Eddie dares once more to reach for Steve’s unoccupied hand, tangling their fingers. Not to hold him, because Steve isn’t going anywhere, but simply to touch.

Steve understands, Eddie realises, because he brushes his lips over his temple and then leaves them there. Not to kiss, not really, but simply to touch.

And while Eddie’s heart is busy feeling like it’s going to burst from these sudden realisations, from how quiet and how safe he feels, from how utterly, indescribably right this feels, Eddie just closes his eyes and accepts the fact that he is actually, absolutely, irrefutably and completely in love with Steve ‘Floor Time’ Harrington.

[freudensteins-monster]

I Need a Hero! 

Following on from Ooh! Barracuda!

Despite what Darcy had promised, their third date had ended with them still fully clothed, kissing goodbye on the street outside the restaurant they were supposed to be dining at, all because some asshat let mutated wannabe velociraptors escape from a lab in Nova Scotia.

And though they both claimed to want a do-over, culminating in the stereotypical post-third date activities, that first interrupted date was the start of a holding pattern.

They made reservations at another nice restaurant and Bucky walked Darcy to her room at the tower. They made out against the door – the inside of the door, as the hallway had hears, and high resolution cameras – but then Bucky cut it short claiming he had an early training session at the upstate facility in the morning.

Okay, thought Darcy. Except she learnt later on that he had volunteered for it the morning of their date.

The following weekend JARVIS found them an old school dance hall and the pair got dressed up in their 1940’s finest and went out dancing. Bucky walked her to her door again, and again cut their goodbye kiss short claiming tiredness because of the training upstate, and the travel, and the dancing.

Fine. Except Steve had mentioned two days later that Bucky had been putting extra sessions in at the tower gym – including the night of their dance hall date.

Darcy invited him around for a home cooked meal and suggested they watch something from Bucky’s “must see movies of the last 100 years” list. She instigated a little Netflix and Chill action, only for Bucky to put the brakes on claiming he wanted to see how the movie ended.

Really? It’s not like they couldn’t have paused the damn thing, Darcy would grumble to Jane later.

For their next date she pulled out the big guns: a slinky, sleeveless, little black dress that showed even more skin than the blue-grey number that had prompted Bucky to ask her out. When she opened the door Bucky’s knees almost buckled at the sight of her (or the girls) and Darcy thought she was on to a winner. She was flirty and affectionate on the way down to the lobby, and Bucky seemed to be reciprocating, but of course, their luck being what it was, the second he opened the car door for her his phone rang with an emergency Assemble.

Fair enough. He couldn’t fake an Assemble, but he didn’t have to look so damn relieved about it.

The mission took three days and when Bucky returned Darcy was caught in the middle of Jane’s latest breakthrough, so it ended up being a full week after their last failed date before they could reschedule. This also gave Darcy plenty of time to plan a course of action to address the elephant in the room, which basically boiled down to “talk about it like mature adults in an adult relationship”.

“This suuuucks,” Darcy groaned to her empty apartment as she waited for Bucky to knock on her door.  Thankfully she didn’t have to wait too long; a minute later and she would have chickened out.

“Hey doll,” he greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. “I missed you like crazy this week.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a crazy week,” she joked lamely, as Bucky made himself comfortable on her couch.

“Did you have anything in particular in mind tonight? I was thinking we could try that Caribbean ramen place Tony was going on about and maybe start one of those Star Wars trilogies everyone seems to love. Sam wants to watch them at the next team movie night, but you know he and Clint will just talk over them and it’ll just ruin my first viewing.”

“Speaking of firsts,” Darcy interjected, grasping at any excuse to get the crappy portion of their evening over with. “Do you not want to have sex with me?” Bucky balked and couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes. Darcy cursed herself for having the subtlety of Thor’s hammer, but sat as close to him as she dared and powered on. “Considering how you were looking at me the day you asked me out, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you find me attractive, but you keep pulling away from me when things get hot and heavy, and I know you’ve been making up excuses so you can cut out early. So… what is it? Why are you embarrassed to tell me no? Is it a religious thing – do you not want to have sex before marriage? A medical thing? Do you not want to have sex at all, or just not right now? Whatever it is, I just need you talk to me about it and tell me where you’re head’s at so I can adjust my expectations accordingly, okay? Because right now I feel like an asshole for trying to move us in a direction that you’re clearly not comfortable with.”

It took Bucky a minute to reply, his mouth opening and closing as he tried and failed to find the right words, but eventually he turned those beautiful stormy eyes of his in her direction and took one of her hands in his.

“First off, of course I find you attractive. When it comes to brains and beauty I think you leave Hedy Lamarr in the dust,” he assured her with a smirk. “And don’t go twistin’ yourself up thinkin’ I only want you when you’re wearing one of those maneater ensembles of yours. Done up and dressed down, soft and sexy; I like the whole package, sweetheart.” Darcy couldn’t help but blush. “And I do want to have sex with you…”

“But…”

Bucky sighed and squeezed her hand just a little bit tighter. “But… Nobody but doctors have seen me without my shirt on since I came back to myself, and I can’t stop worrying about what you’ll think.”

“About?”

“All this,” he replied with vague gesture.

“Your arm?”

“You gotta remember that I got the knock off version of the serum; I ain’t like Steve,” he added, anxiously rubbing his shoulder. “I might heal fast but my scars don’t fade like his do. At least, the ones Hydra gave me didn’t. It’s not pretty, and I just don’t want to see you pretending like they don’t upset you.”

“Of course they upset me, Bucky. But only because I wanna tase every Hydra goon in the balls for what they did to you. Seeing your scars isn’t going to make me want you less. Solid muscle and solid metal, cocky and self-conscious; I like the whole package, Sergeant Barnes,” she teased.

“Oh, yeah?” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ugh, dude. Don’t make me fall on my sword.”

“Huh?”

“JARVIS, can you play my favourite fanvid?” she asked the ceiling with a sigh.

 “Of course, Miss Lewis.”

“What are we watching?”

“Just… watch,” Darcy cringed as she shushed him. “And try not to hate me or, like, run screaming from the room in search of a restraining order.”

 🎶 Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods 🎶

Bucky knew this song. He heard it every now and then when he was passing by Jane’s lab on the way to or from Tony’s, but it would always cut out when he got close. He’d asked Darcy about it once and she claimed it was her ringtone. Now that he thought back on it she had definitely been lying but he’d been too distracted by her bashful smile to notice it. He turned his attention to the television fixed to Darcy’s living room wall and as the song continued dozens of hastily edited together video clips were thrown up on the screen. Video clips of him. There were paparazzo footage of him and some of the team leaving a bar in DC after they’d gone out for drinks on Sam’s birthday, some video of him lifting weights in the gym for that Avengers Tower behind-the-scenes thing that Pepper had organized, though it was slightly pixelated as the editor tried to zoom in on his arms. There was even news footage from his missions with the Avengers, and a few of his missions against them.

“Is that… is that the Winter Soldier in Germany?”

“Um… yes?” Darcy winced.

“People like that – you like that?” he asked incredulously.

“I know it’s awful of me, and you have every right to hate me for making light of something that is obviously so awful, but seriously dude, you were built like a friggin tank! I don’t know what you were eating when you were hiding out in Romania, but damn!”

After a few more minutes of crippling awkwardness Darcy finally asked JARVIS to cut the feed.

“So…

“So… I hear this song playing in your lab all the time. Just how often have you watched this thing?”

“I plead the fifth,” Darcy blushed.

“JARVIS, how many times has Darcy watched this video?”

“Don’t answer that!”

 “This is Miss Lewis’s 57th viewing of this particular Youtube video.”

Bucky looked rather pleased with himself. “Fifty-seven…”

“Okay, listen, I may have left it playing on loop one afternoon while I cleaned my apartment. I have not sat here and watched it fifty-seven times.”

“I can remember at least four separate instances where I’ve walked past your lab and interrupted this song.”

“So? That’s just four times.”

 “Miss Lewis also asks me to loop her into gym’s security footage whenever you and one of your teammates are sparring.”

“JARVIS? What the hell?” Darcy screeched as Bucky doubled over with laughter.

 “I apologise, Miss Lewis. I just thought Sergeant Barnes would appreciate having all the evidence at his disposal.”

“Go away, JARVIS.” Darcy sighed and tried not to combust from blushing as Bucky chuckled at her embarrassment. “Okay, fine. As you can see from Exhibits A through to like friggin J: I find you stupidly attractive. So, you don’t have to worry about me being upset about your scars from an aesthetic point of view, because if it’s not painfully obviously, I want to see you naked. Real bad.”

Then it was Bucky’s turn to blush. “Can I kiss you, doll?”

“Please,” she begged with relieved smile. “Anything to stop me from embarrassing myself further.”

They started tentatively at first, but soon things started moving in a horizontal direction, with hands toying at the hems of shirts and brushing over zippers, and Bucky pulled back. Darcy did her damndest not to let her disappointment show and waited patiently for Bucky to tell her how he was feeling.

“Do you think we could, uh, relocate?” he asked, surprising her as he tilted his head towards her bedroom door. “I don’t know if I’ll want to… I mean, we can try…” he stammered.

“Whatever you’re okay with. Whatever you want,” Darcy promised.

Bucky swooped in for another kiss before lifting Darcy up off the couch in one smooth movement, smiling like an idiot as she giggled in his arms.

“JARVIS, play us out.”

🎶 Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat / It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet / I need a hero! 🎶  

[captnbarnesrogers]

Fall: Welcome to Brooklyn

Pairing/Characters: College AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers, Winnifred Barnes, George Barnes, Rebecca Barnes (Bucky 616 Family) Warnings: Nothin, swearin Chapter Summary: Bucky takes you home to Brooklyn and introduces you to his family and close friend, Steve but someone can tell that this isn’t the real deal.  Word Count: 2k+ A/N: Chapter two woop woop

You tapped your foot impatiently on the concrete ground. How could one person be late to their own event. As you looked across the yard, you see Bucky giving a blonde-headed girl a rough kiss, hands tangled in her hair. You rolled your eyes. He ran towards you and waved her goodbye.

“You’re fifteen minutes late! We’re going to miss the flight.” You groaned.

“Sorry, I had, uh, business to take care of.”

“Christ! Just say you slept with someone and you woke up late, women aren’t ‘businesses’, Bucky.” He took your tone seriously and immediately apologised, “Okay, load your shit and let’s go.” He found it to be quite a turn on that you were so straightforward, something he wasn’t used to with the girls he’d been with.

After exiting the car, Bucky thanked the driver and wished him a nice day. Today was a good day, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, the humidity in Los Angeles kept it that way. When you boarded the plane, Bucky buckled his seatbelt and exhaled.

“Get ready for the loudest family you’ll ever meet.” You chuckled.

“The louder the better.”

“I hope you mean that because you’re in for a wild ride.” 

You bought a book on-board with you but before you knew it, you’d passed out. Bucky positioned your head on his shoulder and covered you in a blanket, not wanting you to get too cold from the plane’s air conditioning. He dog-eared the last page you landed on and placed it atop of the table in front of you. He let out a quiet chuckle at the way your mouth opened whilst you slept, swearing that drool was about to slip out. He watched a couple of movies before the pilot announced that the plane was about thirty minutes away from landing. Bucky gently shook you awake.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” You look up at him, catching his cheeky smile, “Have a good nap?”

“Yeah, since I had to wake up at 6 in the morning, only for you to show up fifteen minutes late.” You replied groggily.

“You wanna know the cherry on top of your sundae?” You raised your eyebrows in response, your head lifted from his shoulder, “It’s -2 degrees outside!” You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut before waking yourself up and sitting up, getting ready to get off the plane.

“See you in 10 minutes? Okay cool.” He could see how cold you were. Tapping your foot on the ground, your hands curling into fists, “They’re almost here, you good?”

“Yeah, j-just not used to the cold.”

“It’s not too bad today.” He stepped in closer and took both of your hands in his, covering the back of your hands and rubbing heat into them. You flinched lightly when he brought them up to his lips and started blowing hot air into them, “Relax, it’ll make your hands warm by the time they get here.”

“Okay, sorry.” He shook his head.

“Don’t apologise, you’re fine.”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” You mumbled as he kept rubbing and blowing hot air into your hands.

“You’re really getting into girlfriend mode here.” He laughed.

“Really? Well, look at you.” You eyed him and his hands atop of yours.

“Touché, Y/N, touché.”

Seven minutes pass by and Bucky’s dad arrives in a black car, helping you both with your bags into the back.

“Freezing, isn’t it?” He ushered you both into the car, “Introductions later, let’s go.” Like an Oscar-worthy performance, you acted as if you’d been with Bucky for a long time, snuggling into him a little. It took Bucky aback a little, you being so affectionate after scolding him not even half an hour ago about waking up at 6 in the morning. You locked your arms into his and your head laid on his shoulder the whole ride back to his home. When you all arrived, Bucky had insisted that you go inside while he and his father unload the car but of course, you refused. You helped him with the bags and headed inside alongside him.

You greeted everyone once you entered their warm home, giving them hugs and a welcoming smile.

“Mom, Dad, Bec, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my girlfriend.” When those words came out of his mouth, it felt foreign. Probably because you’d never had a single person introduce you as one.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N, my name is Winnie and while our dear Bucky,” Winnie says with a disappointed tone, “hasn’t spoken about you, Steve has and you sound just wonderful.” Winnie took you by the hand and led you to the couch, sitting you down. His sister, Rebecca, followed whilst Bucky and his dad headed into the kitchen to grab a beer, “Tell us everything, how you met, what you do… Everything!” You could only give out a nervous chuckle.

“It’s a funny story actually.”

Wednesday, September 22nd, 2016 – UCLA Fall Semester Orientation

You hated being the new kid. Your anxiety was at an all time high and you were surrounded by people who were already making new friends. Although, knowing that these people were also new to the university calmed you down a little bit.

“If everyone could gather around and quiet down, tour is about to start, the quicker we start the quicker we can get you into your dorms.” The guide wore a blue and yellow shirt, UCLA written right across the middle, his hair was brown and long which he kept pushing back. To his right was a red headed girl and next to her was another guy with ashy blonde quaffed hair. They were laughing together whilst the brown headed guy tried to quiet everyone down.

“Hey! SHUT UP!” The red-headed yelled out and the crowed quietened down in an instant, “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Natasha.” He turned back to everybody, “Hey guys, I’m Bucky, this is Natasha, and Clint,” he pointed to the people beside him, “we’re your tour guides and once we’re done we’ll settle you into your dorm rooms.”

An hour later, a group which included yourself, were taken to your dorm rooms. The hallway was long but each of the first years had a room as you guys walked down. Your room was at the very end and you were bunking with another first year, her name is Maria. You exchanged greetings and she showed you around the room.

“I’m quickly just going to say thank you to the guide guy.” Maria nodded and gave you a smile. When you exited the room, you didn’t notice that Bucky was coming back to check on your room. Before you could react, your bodies bumped into each other, squishing the hot paper cup of coffee all over each other. You immediately reacted, “Oh my god, I am so sorry, oh fuck, oh my- I’m so so sorry!” You took off the jacket you were wearing and started dabbing his shirt, “This is all my fault, I-”

He couldn’t stop looking at you. He found it quite adorable how apologetic you were. Dabbing your own jacket up and down his shirt to dry him up. He took your wrist in his hand and you stopped in your tracks.

“You’re all good…” Waiting on you to answer with your name.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeated, “Don’t worry about it, it’s an ugly shirt anyway.”

“Oh.” You smiled, “Okay.” Chuckling nervously.

“I’m Bucky.”

“I know, you, uh, said that at the, um, the garden.” You couldn’t stop looking at him. His eyes were beautiful and the way he spoke was like music to your ears, “I’m Y/N.”

“I know, you said that already.” You could slap yourself in the face. You did say that already.

“Looks like you do owe me a new cup of coffee though.”

“Okay, sure, um, where could we find that?” He laughed at you, not noticing that we was trying to flirt.

“I’m kidding, you know that, right?” You shook your head as you laughed at your own stupidity, “You know what though?”

“What?”

“I think we’re gonna be good friends, Y/N.”

You could tell by Winnie and Bec’s face that they were about to burst into laughter.

“You poured coffee all over my brother?” Bec laughing, clutching her stomach.

“Not poured, it was an accident and we were friends ever since.”

“And then I asked her out six months ago.” Bucky chimed in, taking a sip out of his bottle of beer, “Right, babe?” You nodded.

“You deserve more than a coffee spillage!” Rebecca laughed, pointing at her brother and his demise. Bucky threw a couch pillow at her and laughed along. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“James, let your father get that and come sit down with your wonderful girlfriend.” He smiled at you and sat down next to you, legs touching and arm hung around your shoulder. Chattering came from the hallway and then extravagant cheers of happiness.

“Steve!” He got up from beside you and gave the blonde haired man a tight hug.

“Buck! Good to see ya, man!” He looked down at you sitting on the couch. You got up from your spot and Bucky stood beside you, “You must be Do-”

“Y/N, this is Y/N.” Bucky butted in.

“I thought her name was Dot.” Steve whispered almost to himself.

“Dot?” Winnie and Bec questioned. Bucky’s Dad took a swig from his beer and slipped into the kitchen. Bucky, you could tell, was stressing. Time to bust out the improv skills you’d recently learned from your improv class.

“My middle name is Dorothy, my uh, mom was obsessed with the Wizard of Oz when she was pregnant with me.” The silence in the room turned into ‘Ohhhh’s’ and Bucky thanked you with his eyes, “It was only right, you know?” Steve looked at you with suspicion in his eyes. He knew you were lying. He looked at Bucky and back at you. He knew that you were both lying. You weren’t the girl Bucky had previously described to him. Not even close to the features that Bucky had talked about.

“Well, I might take Y/N to the museum, show her around Brooklyn.” Bucky suggested.

“In this weather?” Steve questioned.

“Yeah, the museum’s warm.” You said goodbye to Bec, Winnie, and George, promising to see them later on in the evening and Steve tagged along with you both.

“Did you want to sit in the front, Steve?” You offered.

“Nah, you’re the girlfriend, right?” You cleared your throat with nervousness and nodded. Bucky looked at you and he knew that Steve knew. You sat in the front and closed the passenger side door, Bucky and Steve following.

“So you know then?” Bucky asked directing to Steve. Steve just nodded.

“You think after 23 years, you can lie to me?”

“She’s not Dot.” They both said at the same time, “Her name is Y/N though.”

“I know.”

“She’s a friend of mine from UCLA.” Bucky explained.

“A bit younger than you, no?” Bucky nodded, “And how do you think this is going to work out? Lying to your family like this?”

“I just wanted them off of my back, Steve.” Steve shook his head in disbelief, being the Dad friend you already knew he was and you guys drove out of the driveway, headed on the road to the Brooklyn Museum.

Bucky showed you all of his favourite art pieces, explaining what he liked about them and history of the people who painted them. He was like a miniature brochure of the museum’s art gallery. You guys walked around the exhibition and admired the pieces with history within them and Steve excused himself to the bathroom. Taking this as an opportunity to talk to Bucky.

“Steve doesn’t like me, does he?” You asked, fidgeting.

“He doesn’t not like you, he doesn’t like what I’m doing, he doesn’t like lying of any type.” He wrapped his arms around you, “Even little white lies.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“He’ll come around, you’ll find that Steve is all about the good in the world and he’s always trying to make it a better place.” He placed a kiss on your cheek.

“You know no one’s around, right? So we don’t have to pretend.”

“I know, it felt right and that wasn’t pretend.” You couldn’t help but blush.

TAGLIST:  

@panic-naran @galaxy-siren @madisonlupin @allonszassbutt @brilliantbellesoares @assemblemotherfuckers @emilysallysmith @darlingtholland

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 38

Chapter Summary -   Benedict and Sophie arrive for dinner, which is a nice affair. When Sophie gets Danielle alone, the pair speak about how it is to be the other half of the "Internet's Boyfriends."

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“I see you fitted in some stress relief.” Benedict joked as he walked into the house, giving Tom a hug as he did.

“Do you two ever stop?” Sophie shook her head and laughed, having already entered and given Tom a similar hello. “I love this table.” She commented, looking at the table that Danielle had inside the front door.

“Sophie, no stealing Elle’s things,” Ben warned, earning a confused look from Tom. “She stole my mother’s bowl recently.”

“Your father gave it to me,” Sophie argued.

“Without telling mum.” Ben countered.

“I didn’t know that.” She pointed out.

“He’s hated the fucking thing for years, so first chance he had to get rid of it, and it ends up in our place.” Tom chuckled at his friend’s overdramatic reaction to a bowl. “So, where’s Danielle?”

“Kitchen,” Tom led the way.

“Ooh, what books does she have?” Sophie asked, glancing into Danielle’s living room on the way.

“Elle, frisk Sophie on the way out,” Ben called out in warning. “She plans on robbing half your home.”

“It’s actually so nicely done,” Sophie added, heading to the kitchen, looking around as she did.

“Actually, it appears she’s just robbing the whole fucking thing.” Sophie elbowed him slightly.

When there was no response, Tom frowned. “Elle?” he called going for the kitchen door. A sniffing noise caught their attention. “Mac, get away from the door.” There was another sniff and a grumbling noise before Tom opened it.

“Tom, he got in when I was throwing out bread crusts for the birds, but I am prepping food so I can’t touch him.” Elle apologised.

“Got it, come on, big man.” He grabbed a baked pig ear and caught the dog’s attention, allowing for Ben to open the door.

“He’s huge,” Ben commented. As soon as Mac Tíre realised there was someone new to sniff, the ear was forgotten about and he trotted over to the guests. “Soph, remember the pup I told you about.”

“You said he was a scrawny rat.”

“Well, he is getting a bit fatter these days, Diana is overfeeding him.”

“She is not, he’s supposed to be fatter than you have him.” Tom defended.

“I’m sorry, did your father have a vet practice?”

“My father was in charge of the company that sold your father pharmaceuticals.”

“Actually they manufactured them, not sold them, that is done by the parent company.” Danielle corrected, sticking out her tongue at him.

“So, yes, this is apparently my girlfriend, acting like a four-year-old.” Tom indicated to Danielle as he spoke to Sophie.

“He’s just annoyed I caught him on a technicality, I’m Danielle.” Danielle dismissed as she walked over to Sophie, cleaning her hand to shake hers. Sophie, however, walked forward and hugged her. “Oh, okay. I thought English were not supposed to be overly affectionate at the beginning.”

“I am half Scottish.” Sophie smiled.

“Ah, that explains it.” Danielle grinned back. “So, what’s this bout robbing my house?” she looked to Ben, who came to hug her as well.

“Sophie is an undiagnosed kleptomaniac apparently, and your house and everything in it is next.”

“Benedict!” Sophie looked at him appalled. “I just said I like your hall table and wondered what books you had on your shelves.” Sophie put her hands up as though she was being ordered to by authorities.

Danielle just laughed. “Thank you, it was my parents, I effectively took everything from the house with me here, so anything nice, it was probably theirs and as for the books, literally, you could find anything in there, there is no rhyme or reason to it, ask Tom, it annoys him.”

“It does not.” Tom dismissed, smiling like a fool at how immediately Elle had taken to Sophie.

“You glare at it, do not deny it, I can see it in your face.”

“I like your book organisational skills as much as you like my grey shoes.” He retorted.

“Ouch!” Danielle laughed in slight disbelief, “That is cold.”

“Those shoes are fucking tragic,” Benedict interjected, though his face was a jestful one. “I mean really, Tom.”

“Funny, he said you have two pairs.” Danielle joked.

“Ooh.” Tom pointed at Benedict as he laughed at his disbelieving look at the young woman. “That turned quickly.”

“Come for dinner and I get abused.” Ben shook his head, scratching Mac Tíre’s ear. “Why do I bother?”

“I think it is something to do with the food.” Elle joked, going back to the food. “Mac, out.”

“He is fine if you want to leave him in, so long as he won’t jump on Sophie.” Ben dismissed.

“Mac isn’t allowed jump on anyone or on the couch.” Tom showed him the ear again, regaining the dog’s attention. “Bed.” Taking the ear gently, Mac trotted to his bed. “Good boy.” He smiled, “Tea?”

“Please.” There was an eagerness to Sophie’s voice that was slightly dramatic.

“Very domestic,” Ben joked.

“Yeah,” Tom smiled as he looked at Danielle, who was busy prepping something for the dinner. “Oh, Elle is making…what is…is that your…”

“Good to see Eton and Cambridge paid off, proper coherent sentences there.” Ben joked.

“You may be laughing, but you have not had Elle’s Roast Lamb and veg.”

“Nice and exotic.” Elle shrugged.

“Does it come with potatoes?” Ben asked curiously.

“Gratin and roast.”

“I am never leaving.” Ben declared as Tom handed him a cup and thanked him, then watching as he handed one to Elle. “That’s not a cup, that’s a tankard.”

“You know Irish people drink more tea than us.” Tom pointed out.

“With cups that’s size, it’s hardly a fucking surprise.” Ben laughed. “Seriously, why would anyone need a cup that big?”

“Because they want that much tea.” Elle grinned, “Food’s on, so here or the living room?”

“If just to annoy Tom with your disorganised books, we’ll go to the living room, but no promises Sophie won’t rob you.” Ben joked, rushing through the door before his wife contemplated throwing her tea at him.

*

“So, how did the music shoot go?” Ben asked as he bit into another piece of the dinner.

“Fine, all things considered. Though I think I can put my hand on my heart and say it is chaotic and completely off-putting.” Danielle responded.

“The shoot or the person.”

“The shoot, the person I wasn’t overly bothered by, considering I am two and zero on that front, the song, however, as tragic as the ‘singing’ is once again, is not exactly very nice.” She looked to Tom apologetically.

“Yeah, I read about it, ‘The Heeler’, peculiar name,” Sophie added.

“Not really, makes perfect sense, it’s about Tom and myself and I was a paramedic.”

“But it is spelt wrong.” Ben pointed out.

“Wait, H-E-E-L-E-R is it?” Sophie nodded.

“Smart play on words there.” Danielle commended. “It’s clear she didn’t come up with this on her own.”

“How?” Tom asked.

“Does she seem like a professional wrestling fan to you? I mean; did she sit down and watch Summerslam when you two were…whatever you did together?” she asked.

“Summerslam?”

“That’s a no then. Professional wrestling, The Rock, Triple H, Stone Cold Steve Austin, John Cena, all those guys, the WWE, it’s a term they use. Their good guys are called ‘Baby Faces’, or ‘Faces’, and their baddies are given the term a ‘Heel’.” She explained.

“You literally will watch anything on the TV.” Tom shook his head.

Danielle shrugged, “I rather that that Keeping up with Whoever is in Vogue This Week and other reality toilet paper.”

“Definitely.” Sophie agreed, “I feel like I am alone in a sea of gossip fodder when people start waffling on about that.” she turned to her husband, who was eating more gratin, “You are going to regret that later in the week when you are running it off.”

“Don’t care, too good. Tom, how are you not going around another ten kilo’s heavier?”

“Because I don’t get it cooked for me often, Elle’s staying at the hotel and I was over stateside doing the voice work. It’s good, though, right?” Tom smiled knowingly at his friend, Ben nodded.

“I’m just glad you guys like it, I mean, it’s not Michelin star stuff.”

“Good, that stuff is shit, it’s the size of a two-pound coin, costs two hundred and tastes like rubber.” Ben scoffed. “You can’t beat the basics.”

“You can bring the boys to Hollywood.” Elle smiled as she drank some more wine mixed with a soft drink.

“Private school boys, if that counts.” Sophie chuckled.

“Says Ms Oxford.” Ben retorted.

“God, posh people,” Elle sniggered, causing Tom to chuckle and Sophie and Ben to stop bickering.

*

“So, you said this was your parents?” Sophie was getting ready to go upstairs after a pleasurable evening of talking.

“Yeah, my mum got it in some weird boutique place in the bog arse of nowhere back home.”

“Didn’t she mind you bringing it over here with you?”

“No, she and dad, they’re…gone.”

Sophie’s face filled with horror. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…what…?”

“It’s fine, I mean it’s sort of commonplace, isn’t it?” Elle shrugged with a sad smile. “She had cancer, and dad just wasn’t the same after, his health went downhill fast, he was so stressed before and it was worse after for him, he was a workaholic so it was always her that made sure he ate and looked after himself, so with her gone and me in college…”

“You moved over after…”

“Yeah, didn’t want to stay there, dad was saying how there were more opportunities over here, and when I dropped out because I decided I rather do something different, I thought it was the better option to come here.”

“Why Suffolk though?”

“I’m not a city person, I prefer the quiet of the countryside, Suffolk was by chance, I found an opening here, decided it was the place for me, used the money from the sale of my parents place and my dad’s practise to get a nice house, which,” she looked around her. “I think I did pretty well with, and it just so happened that my neighbour was a nice woman who I spoke to the day I was viewing it and she convinced me to buy, saying it was a nice area, quiet and someday a great place to have my family and when I moved in, her kids came to help me, one of whom happened to be Tom.”

“That must have been a shock.” Sophie chuckled.

“It was, I mean, I like comic book movies, so I knew of Loki, but when Tom was in front of me, I hadn’t realised who he was, and was just looking at him with that funny suspicious look of ‘I know you from somewhere’.” Elle blushed as Sophie laughed.

“Oh God, really?”

“How he did not walk out of the place and have his mum file a restraining order, I don’t know.” She shook her head in shame.

“Ha-ha, sorry, but that’s hilarious, I love it.” Sophie laughed.

“How about you, Ben said you met on set years ago?”

“Yes, back when he was a bit of a nobody in the game too, a few bits here and there, but we had other people then, and by the time we started something, he was huge.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how you do it, the public stuff, and all they write about you and Christopher, and probably now this little bubble too.”

“You can’t let it get to you. Sometimes it’s jealousy, sometimes spite, others just want to bitch about anyone and others…I don’t know what their problem is, but they can just get over themselves, I love Ben, he loves me and Kit, and we live pretty normally off the red carpet, and as long as it stays like that, we are happy.”

“But you are accomplished too, you’re in his game, I am just a set person, I can only imagine what they will say if it gets out.”

“‘When’ not ‘if’,” Sophie corrected. “You will get some heat, after all, Tom and Ben are the ‘Internet’s Boyfriends’ but most will love that you are not a stick-thin, Hollywood Barbie, you are exactly what they all dream would happen, as cliché as it is, you are ‘The Girl Next Door’ literally.”

“God, that is fucking cliché.” Elle laughed.

“And it gives them a little hope too, that is something.”

“It is also going to add some heat.”

“Yes, I read what the papers wrote after the dinner with him and his mum.”

“You read a lot of gossip stuff?”

“Normally no, but after meeting Ms Swift, I wanted to see what they were saying about poor Tom and I saw the whole thing with you and him on a few papers.”

“Yeah, some were not very nice.” Elle played with her fingers.

“Tabloids never are, but the other’s will be the majority opinion, ‘wholesome’ is not a word used much in entertainment.”

“It sounds a lot like the word fat.”

“By some standards, yes, you are, you are supposed to be a size four to six, eat once every four days and snort more cocaine than you can handle to stave hunger pains, and you are not that, so they will hate you for it, because Tom clearly prefers you and that is not what their magazines tell them is sexy.”

“Thank you.” Elle gave a small smile. “I really wanted to talk to someone about this, but Tom doesn’t get it from this point of view, I mean, he understands, but doesn’t understand, if that makes sense?”

“He comprehends it, but does not feel it himself, so doesn’t have first-hand experience of it.” Sophie nodded. “I know that feeling.” There was a small hint of bitterness in her tone. “I thought for ages that no one could understand what it was like, especially when it was revealed we were engaged, even more so after it was announced I was pregnant.”

“Who helped you?”

“Amanda, Martin’s other half, she literally just came up to me one day, hugged me, threw the men out of the room and demanded I tell her exactly how I was feeling, and pushed and pushed until finally, I caved.”

“You never acted like it affected you.”

“In public, God no, but behind closed doors, I was terrified, and Ben had no idea how to help, Amanda saved us, I was so scared, I wanted to run and hide and never go in front of a camera again.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, you guys are amazing, and your son is the most gorgeous little cutie going.”

“When he wants to be, he can be temperamental.” Sophie smiled fondly.

“Hey, he’s male, it’s to be expected.” Elle dismissed, earning a loud laugh from Sophie.

[txnystarkimagines]

Ephemeral (Part 4/4)

Pairings: Tony Stark X Reader

Words: 1600+

Warnings: Fluff,angst.

Summary:Reader finds out that her fiance Steve has been cheating on her right before the wedding. Distressed, she turns towards Tony Stark for comfort.

Requested By: @wannabe-weasley

Permanent Tag List: @sybil-howlett @palaiasaurus64 @sherlockholmesisbae @redroomproperty@alwaysoutoftheordinary @withouthannah @metaphysicalmisha@andybubblebath @secretninjachild @whatshernamemaria  @pou-noikiazeis-to-oneiro @alwaysenjoythelifeyoulive@niallandsebastianaremylife @raindancer2004  @v-esperteen  @purpledolphin-f  @sour-kangaroo1998

Ephemeral Tag List: @laughsandlivi-blog  @madisonjaimie @jdjsjjdis @far-off-dream @ashleygeza  @empathiccally  @vivalaenjolras  @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @cajunlizard@redroomproperty @purplekitten30 @polarixd @incoherent-smiles @lovely-geek  @ crystallimythium @wordacadabra @my-current-fandom-is@molethemollie @do-you-mind-if-i-slyherin1  @supernaturalbaesduh @maxinemauricio @curlycals

Author’s Note: I know I know,i said it will come later but suddenly my writers block was lifted and I could write this. 

MASTERLIST  | EPHEMERAL MASTERLSIT | REQUEST HERE  |

Your feet unknowingly led you to the one person your heart desired to be with,Tony Stark's Lab. When you got into the elevator,when you climbed down the stairs in front of the lab doors. All you knew was you just needed someone right now. And that someone was Tony Stark.

The doors opened for with a swoosh,letting in the music and loud metal clangs,previously trapped in by the soundproof technology.

"Mute."Tony ordered to FRIDAY,when he noticed your arrival.

"Y/N honey? Are you okay?"He noticed your pale face.

"Yeah,I'm fine." You mumbled.

"What is it Y/N?"He got up from his seat,walking over towards you,as he wiped his hands on the side of his jeans."You very rarely come here,unless its for a very important reason." 

You looked down at the floor,hair tumbling around your head. "It's over." You started chuckling.

"Y/N?"

"It's fucking over. More than two years of emotional investment down the drain. And he had been playing for almost half that time. Can you imagine? How naive was I? To not notice."You scoffed.

"Y/N,look it's over.You should be glad you don't have to deal with that lying cheating bastard anymore.You are free."

"I loved him. I really did."

"Come here."He extended his arm towards you which you gladly took. With his muscular arm around your waist.he lead you to the one seater, a big one seater at that in one corner.There he plopped down before pulling you onto his lap.

"Now tell me."

You were silent for a few minutes,as he patiently waited,rubbing his hand up and down your chiffon clad back. His fingers twisted around your curls,as you figured out what to say. You didn't even know why you were here,sitting in Tony Stark's lap.

"I don't think he ever loved me."You took a deep breath."It hurts to say this,but I think it was lust all along, you know?" You looked up at him,only to find him staring at you already with his brown eyes.

"And when that was fulfilled,he just tagged me along,waiting for the right moment to leave,instead he just proposed. Why? Why did he ask me to marry him when he didn't love me? He apologised,like five times Tony. But there was no guilt. How? Why?" A tear slipped down your rosy cheeks.

"You talked to Rogers?"Tony's grip tightened around."What did he say?"

"That he was sorry and,and that he fell out of love with me,while he just fell more in love with Sharon,over the course of seven months. Seven months Tony!"You exclaimed."He played me for seven months,that's like since after Ultron.All that time and I was planning our perfect wedding like a fucking wannabe."

"Shh!"He pressed his finger against your lips,the hand slowly trailing behind to cup your head. He moved you to face him."He was your fiance Y/N and no matter how much you try to deny it,you loved him,maybe you don't anymore,but planning your wedding does not make you a wannabee." He lectured.

"I know Tony. But it hurts so much."

"It's okay it will get better."

You laid your head on his shoulder,hand resting where the arc reactor used to be. At the same time, his hands were running through your h/c locks,calming you down.You didn't cry though. You were far down that road,no need to mourn for that son of a bitch,you decided. If you were going to move on then why not start now? Why two months later?

"I love you,sweetheart."Tony's voice broke the silence.

Your eyes widened in panic. What the hell? Where did that come from? You raised your head to meet his equally horrified expression.

"Shit! Y/N I am so sorry,to drop a bomb like this on you,that too now." His anxiety and paranoia took over."Just ignore I said anything."

Your heart started beating fast,blood pumping in your veins quicker than ever before. Was this seriously happening? Now of all times?  

"What?"You let out a surprised sound at his proclamation.

"Its nothing."

"No Tony! That's not nothing. You just said you loved me!"You got up from his lap,running a hand through your already tangled hair.

"I am sorry."

"Why are you sorry? God!  I should be sorry,coming to you all these years with Steve's problems,date nights and what not." You were flustered with this new source of information. "How long?" You asked him,only for him to be sitting in front of you with the baffled expression of his. This was probably a moment to be marked in history,where the Tony Stark speechless. But right now all his mind was going through was What The Actual Fuck Tony? He really thought he didn't say it out loud.

"How long Tony?"You seethed in frustration.All of this was going bonkers. Here you were just breaking up with Captain fucking America and now Iron Man was confessing his love for you. Really God?! You looked up at the black ceiling.

"8 months after you joined the team."Tony decided to face the consequences.

"8 months?"You shouted. "I joined the team in 2013.That's five years Tony!"

"I know."

You paced in front of him. Your life really was turning out to be a roller coaster. "All these years and you never said anything. Why?" You inquired.

"Because I knew you liked Steve and I didn't want you to feel guilty or something for not loving me back."

"Guilty? I am feeling much more than that right now. I am enraged Stark. More at myself than you!" You snapped."I was so oblivious. All these years and you didn't even give me any hints."You spoke softly,taking a seat opposite him.

"Tony,honestly you have no idea how bad I feel right now. I came to you for the past three years for love advice,for fucking love advice and you never said anything.Why did you do it?"

"Because I loved you,and when you love someone what matters the most to you is that they are happy."He moved to kneel in front of you. "And if being with Rogers made you happy than so be it. But today,looking at where he has brought you in life,I regret that so much. More so than creating Ultron even. I regret not telling you I love you.I regret setting up that date for you and him. I regret I didn't tell your smile was,still is the brightest thing I see all day. That your voice is that of an angel,and when you are on a mission and I can't sleep I listen to your voicemail,because its beautiful. When you enter the room,you light it up for me. Protecting you when on the battlefield is what wakes me up every day. When you enter the room,my heart beats fast,I feel like shrapnel is attacking my heart all over again,but in a good way. I can do anything in this world,but one thing I can never do is stop loving you. I love you Y/N and you don't get to tell me to stop doing that."

"Oh Tony!"You whispered,palm cupping his cheek as you looked down on him. "You are a great man Tony Stark.And believe when I tell you this there was a time when I too had a crush on you,when I was a mere SHIELD agent. I might not be in love with your right now,but I definetely love you. And I promise you that,one day,perhaps one month from now on,or a year I will love you back. And when I do you will know,because when I love,I love with all my might. All I ask of you right now is give me time,I won't be able to do this.That won't be fair to you,not like I have been fair to you since the past few years,but still. I just need some time."

"Take an eternity if you might,just don't leave."

"Never."

"Can I kiss you? Just this once?"

You nodded your head in response. Your lips met his in a soft manner,there weren't fireworks or shocks running down your spine,but there was something there for sure,and you hoped it will rise one day. His lips moved against yours in perfect sync.His lips were surprisingly soft and warm. His nose pressed agaisnt your cheek as your arms wrapped around his neck. His too rising up only to tangle in your hair. As his mouth moved against yours passioantely his thumb caressed your face. He takes the parting of your lips as a perfect chance to enter,and so he does after licking your plump lips. You let out a low moan through his actions. But then you pull apart.

Your forehead is pressed against yours,while two catch your breath. His warm brown eyes staring into yours.

"I am sorry for this Tony."You state as you stand up. "One day I'll come back to you,but not today."

"I'll be waiting." You hear him say as you walk out of the lab. "To an eternity and beyond."

                                               ~ the end ~

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[itsallavengers]

Steve/Tony number 91 (“Tell me you need me.”) if you're still accepting these

(This got long, so I had to put it under a read more.)

“Tell me you need me.”

The words punctured through their angry silence like a knife slashing through a tire, and Tony’s head shot up from where it had been staring at the table in order to look over at Steve in surprise.

Of all the things he’d expected Steve to say, that certainly hadn’t been it. 

“I…what?” Tony asked, momentarily forgetting his fury in order to stare at Steve in confusion.

They were in the middle of a fucking screaming match. Steve had just been yelling about how he was sick of Tony, and Tony had been yelling right back, harder and sharper and more furious, because they always had to try and fucking one-up one another, they always had to have the last word. You didn’t ask that in the middle of something like this.

And so Tony immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Tell me… just… you know what, fucking forget it, I don’t care-” Steve waved it off, shaking his head and clenching his jaw as he turned his back again and leant over the tabletop.

And god- Tony wanted to just let it go, like Steve was telling him to. He wanted to get back to the screaming; he wanted to ask why the hell Steve had been so rude and cold and distant over the past few weeks; why he’d chosen to drive off to fucking Washington on their goddamn anniversary and leave Tony with nothing more than a note to apologise for it.

But Tony’s brain was fast; it was his goddamn curse sometimes, but it meant he could connect dots pretty quickly, and in the space of a few seconds he was meticulously breaking down all the events over the past few weeks, working out the source, finding the root of the problem in the same space of time as it would take a person to click their fingers.

“Three weeks ago. We were fighting Loki again. You disappeared for a few minutes,” Tony said quietly, and he watched as Steve stiffened minutely under his gaze, and knew he was on the right track.

“What did he show you,” he eventually said, crossing his arms and standing up straighter.

(read more// beware mobile users!)

“Oh, just fuck off and leave it, Tony,” Steve said, but it lacked the anger of before, and now it just sounded resigned. Tired. Sad.

“What the fuck did he show you, Steve,” Tony hissed.

There was a tight silence, and then, “nothing I didn’t already know.”

Tony sighed irritably, but his anger was beginning to be clouded with something more similar to worry now, and damn Steve for making him like this; damn him for forcing him to worry when he should just be allowed to be furious.

“He told you something, or showed you something, or- I don’t fucking know, maybe he’s fucking possessing you- but whatever it was, Steve, you need to clue me the fuck in, because I’m stood here and I assure you I’m not dropping this until you-”

“He showed me what life would have been like without me,” Steve cut in, whipping around and turning to face Tony, hands clenched so tightly that the knuckles were stark white. “He showed me what your life would have been like without me, Tony, and you know what? It wasn’t any fucking different. Not one bit. Aside from the fact that I wasn’t a part of it, absolutely nothing had changed.”

There was yet another silence, but this one was weighted with shock, rather than anger. It was only broken when Steve spoke up again. 

“My whole… I’m pointless. I don’t need to be here, Tony. Everyone else could have filled in my roles in life. I made absolutely no difference- i didn’t invent shit, I didn’t single-handedly save the world, it barely even looked like I had a damn effect on your life-”

“Shut the fuck up, Steve,” Tony jerked wildly, hand slicing through the air and cutting him off, furious all over again. “Shut the fuck up, okay? If you say another word I am seriously walking the fuck out of here.”

Steve just stared at him, jaw clenched stubbornly and eyes hard- but so much sadder than Tony had realised before.

“Do you have any idea how angry it makes me that you could fucking believe that bullshit, even for a single second? Are you out of your God-forsaken mind? Did Clint accidentally shoot your fucking brains out? What the fuck is wrong with you! Steve, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even fucking be here! And not just because you saved me from fuck only knows how many shots and explosions and aliens, because you saved me from my goddamned self, you bastard!” Tony screamed, his fist slamming on the table and cracking through the room.

Steve looked slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst, and his eyes were a little wide as he looked at Tony, out of breath and staring murderously back at him.

“Do you even… did it even occur to you for a second that Loki was just.. y’know, lying? Steve, fuck you, I love you so much it burns me, you fucking idiot- you’ve saved so many people and changed so many lives. Without you, HYDRA would have taken over humanity. Without you, the Avengers would have no one to lead them. Without you, I’d probably have just jumped off the fucking roof a damn long time ago. But nope, none of that matters, because motherfucking Piece of Shit Loki Laufeyson must be telling the truth, right?”

Another brittle laugh, and then, “You ask me to ‘tell me you need me’, but I don’t. i don’t need you. In the same way heroin addicts don’t need another fix, or I don’t need a coffee in the morning. I don’t fucking ‘need’ you- but I sure as hell wouldn’t know how to survive without you.”

He took a deep breath, and then when that failed to calm him, he settled with grabbing the nearest mug and throwing it across the room, trying to expel all his anger out in the shards that flew out from impact. “Steve. I love you more than I ever thought I could ever love anything or anyone, and I will for the rest of my life. And I fucking hate you for making me say that right now. After everything you’ve done. After you fucking hurt me, continuously, for three shitty weeks, because you let some shitass trickster get in your head.”

Tony kept his eyes fixed on the table, and wished there was another mug to throw. There wasn’t- so he turned away.

Steve caught his arm.

“i thought it was real. I did, and I…” Steve stumbled over the words, quiet and frantic and pleading, apparently finally realising his mistake.

“And you thought that you could just randomly start pulling away from a three year relationship because you thought I didn’t need you in the first place,” tony finished for him, his voice unable to keep from cracking toward the end.

“Yes. Tony…I’m so sor-”

“Don’t,” Tony pulled out of Steve’s grip and turned his back, so Steve couldn’t see the traitorous red of his eyes. “You made me worried sick, you shit. I thought you were cheating, I thought you were bored of me, you missed our goddamn anniversary, do you know how fast my heart fell to my fucking shoes when i read that note, asshole-”

Shit. He was crying properly, now, and Steve sounded like he was struggling for air too, as he stumbled forward and reached blindly for Tony’s hand. “I know, Tony, I know, and I’m so sorry, I thought it was what you wanted, please-”

“What I wanted? How could you-” He couldn’t finish, his throat wouldn’t work; and he was still trying to pull away but it was weak, and Steve was on his knees, fingers shaking as they curled around Tony’s waist, whispering broken apologies into Tony’s stomach, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I love you, I’ll make it up to you, I’m sorry baby, please-”

“I… I know you are,” Tony whispered, the fight draining out of him as he let his knees buckle, knowing Steve would catch him.

Because that’s what they did. They screamed and threw mugs and spewed venom at one another, declaring they were finished or they hated one another.But it was bullshit. If Tony fell, Steve would always be there. Without hesitation.

As soon he’d dropped, he was being pulled into Steve’s arms, wrapping tightly around him in a way he hadn’t felt properly for almost a month, and had missed like the air he breathed.

“I’ve got a lot of making up to do, haven’t I?” Steve said quietly, kissing Tony’s hair, and then his cheeks, and then his eyelids, moving across every inch of Tony’s face with a gentle press of lips.

“You have no idea,” Tony mumbled, and he remembered as he rested against Steve’s chest that the last time he’d had a proper sleep was about four days ago. 

He was really tired. Not to mention emotionally drained.

“I’ll do it,” Steve promised fiercely, gripping Tony’s waist and rocking them back and forth, “I swear I’ll make it up, and I’ll book us a whole week away if you want, to make up for our anniversary- we can get the best hotel you want, have a candle-lit meal and everything, and then I’ll take you back to our room and lay you on the silk sheets and-”

He glanced down. Tony was asleep in his arms.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered sadly, knowing that Tony probably hadn’t slept well ever since steve had started acting like the world’s shittiest boyfriend, three weeks ago now.

He shut his eyes and pushed the guilt down for a moment in order to scoop Tony up and begin carrying him out of the room, feeling the beautiful sense of familiarity and home that he’d been missing for weeks now.

“I don’t care what you think- I certainly need you,” Steve told him, kissing his forehead.