#i’m definitely projecting onto steve but it’s ok

[specific-dreamer]

the outsiders as quotes from me and friends

fair warning we are all black girls at an hbcu with no filter

~~

Bob: she told me to pick a planet, i picked the sun :)

Cherry: and i’m gon’ hold your hand when i say this

~~

Bob: do you expect your sneaky link to take you out on valentine’s ?

Beverly: no! he’s for the 15th

~~

Soda during a school project whilst at his wits end: Malcolm X shot MLK

Darry: well no

~~

Pony and johnny in spanish class

Pony: Solo creer en me

Johnny: …What’s creer i thought that was a gender?

~~

Steve when he found out Evie’s 25% black: I was expecting like slavery r-worded white like every other black person but consensual white?

[thestobingirlie]

re: that compromise ask (diff anon but heyyy right there with u) i was literally JUST thinking abt smth similar, about how esp in future/reunion fics, it’s always steve crawling on his knees for forgiveness for how he used to be, and eddie like. heaving a big sigh and “going back on his principles” or whatever to forgive steve. and steve like having to prove he’s better now or whatever which like. fine sure yeah steve was a high school bully. he threw slurs around and he definitely objectified women (although come on it’s high school social strata everyone was objectifying everyone, ain’t none of those babies had enough brain cells yet to see other people as people, that’s just being fucking 16) and he was a bitch, not arguing there.

but like 1) he was fully a child, he was literally a teenager, mike is an asshole too and no one is arguing he can’t possibly grow up or be redeemed, or that he needs to repent to earn love? like it’s one thing in canon era fics where they’re all still growing up, but i haaaaate in future fics when steve is a whole grown ass adult man still expected to grovel for the sins of being 17,

and 2) canonically eddie is the judgmental one??? i mean steve literally apologized and made amends on screen but if that’s not enough look at just purely going off the way the kids interact with them! they’re completely comfortable with steve. yeah he rolls his eyes and huffs and complains about their “nerd shit” but he still drives them to dnd nights! he still does that lame ass handshake with dustin! he still listens to all the stuff they ramble about, and you know he does it every time even when we don’t see it on screen, because they’re totally comfortable doing it! no doubt, no question steve will listen and support them, even when he doesn’t understand. dustin comes to scoops knowing without a doubt that steve will drop everything to listen to him talk about camp, and be excited about it! steve doesn’t give a shit about science camp, but dustin does, and that’s enough for him! yeah dustin is excited to talk about suzie, because girls are common ground with steve, but steve doesn’t know he met suzie when he takes his break, he just wants to hear about how dustin’s nerd stuff was going! he doesn’t have to understand or relate, he just wants them to do the stuff that makes them happy, and they know that. they trust him to listen even if he doesn’t get it

but the way mike and dustin were so nervous to ask eddie to postpone hellfire, even after months of knowing him, shows that they don’t trust him to let them have interests outside of his understanding. and they shouldn’t! he’s proven that he veered so hard into “nonconformity” he just reinforced the same social boundaries he claims to hate. everything with eddie is “us v them,” and like! i get it! i think it’s a complicated dichotomy and makes for an interesting character! i’m an eddie stan first and a person second ok listen i love the man. but if anyone needs to beg on their knees for forgiveness for being a dick in high school, it’s the guy who ruined BOTH of lucas’ favorite activities in one fell swoop by projecting his own insecurities and fake social rivalry onto a literal child. (i’m still so mad he managed to force lucas to miss the campaign finale he’d worked so hard for AND made sure that none of his friends or family were there to watch him play basketball all at once i’m never over it. i’m frothing at the mouth. apologize to lucas or meet my blade)

but there’s this trend where people are like “oh man eddie’s such a good person for looking past king steve and loving steve anyway! he’s rehabbing the jock! he’s fixing him!” fuck you. fix your damn self. the duffers’ childish ass hatred of “non nerds” is sooooo pervasive in this fandom it’s so gross.

oh my god, this is just beautiful. i literally couldn’t put it any better.

i wish we had gotten to see eddie repent for what he did to lucas, because honestly, i still hold it against him.

what’s especially funny to me about it is that steve’s sins (in s4) were over two years ago, eddie’s were last week lmao. like, one of them needs to go around apologising and it’s not steve.

but yeah! the kids have an ease around steve that they don’t around eddie. classic example: all the kids go to steve in s3, not even pretending to be polite or actually ask, and just pound on the bell until he comes to let them through the back of scoops to watch a movie. they don’t worry about his reaction. steve could literally get fired doing this, but they know he’s going to do it, and feel so comfortable that he won’t have a bad reaction, that there isn’t any hesitation.

when asking eddie to postpone a game, mike and dustin are shaking in their little boots. they’re flinching and looking away, and trying not to actually ask. those aren’t kids in the presence of someone comforting!! this isn’t a guy they would think deserves steve begging on his knees. if eddie was being a prick about steve’s past for no reason other than to hold some moral superiority over him, the kids would get pissed off.

if anyone is getting rehabilitated in their relationship, it’s eddie, not steve!! because being a jock isn’t inherently bad, and being a nerd isn’t inherently good, no matter what the duffers may be trying to tell you.

[camouflagedlove]

Out of Curiosity

A 5+1 things steddie fic

“I haven’t really gotten the chance to find my type, Harrington, but I imagine I can’t be too picky.” 

Robin nodded in understanding but Steve barely registered it. “Yeah but like, ideally who would you want to date?” Steve implored. Robin looked to him skeptically, like she was looking deep into his words which she definitely was. 

“Not you, Harrington, don’t worry,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes. 

Steve nodded slowly. Really took in the answer. Robin and Eddie communicated with their eyes some more while Steve just stood there, arms folded. 

Eddie tapped his knuckles against the counter, “Well, I’m gonna-”

“So you’re not attracted to me? Like at all?” 

Robin dropped her head onto the counter with a loud thump and a groan. 

“Steve, buddy, you can calm down. I, Eddie Munson, am not attracted to nor planning to hit on King Steve. Scout’s honor,” Eddie held up his fingers to mirror a scout salute. 

“Ok, that’s fine. I mean- not that I was asking because I was worried, because I’m not!” Steve rushed to say. 

Continue reading on ao3:

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

[georgiastars13]

you do realize there’s search history - steve rogers

*takes place at the very beginning of CATWS

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/573505333806648469/

That morning, you and Steve were sitting at an outside table at your usual breakfast spot. He had just finished up from a run, when he had seen you alone at the table, reading over the folder Fury had given you for you next mission. 

“Well, I’m glad I spotted you, anyway,” Steve was saying. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to access this file that Bruce sent me. I’m still a little lost when it comes to the whole technology thing.”

“Here, let me see your phone,” you said, reaching out your hand to take it from him.

You scrolled through all of the previously opened tabs, trying to find the one he was searching for. But something else happened to catch your eye.

“Did you really google ‘how to flirt with a girl’?” you asked, a big grin stretching across your face.

“What? How’d you know that?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing, trying to peer over your shoulder to see what you were looking at.

“You do realize there’s search history,” you answered, the smug smile never leaving your lips. 

“Give me that,” he muttered, grabbing his phone back from you.

Oh, you definitely weren’t going to let this one go. “Aww, Steve, who were you trying to flirt with?”

“It was no one. I was helping Sam.”

“You liar.”

“Not lying. Now can we please go back to what we were trying to find in the first place?” he asked.

You sighed. Clearly you weren’t going to get any answers. “Fine.”

As the two of you studied the phone again, a sleek silver car pulled up beside you, and the window rolled down to reveal Natasha Romanov. She had a big smile on her face and a coffee in one hand.

“Finish up your breakfast, Rogers. I don’t have all day!” she chirped, rolling the window back up.

“Well, that’s my cue. I’ll try and find it later, don’t worry about it,” he said, slapping a five dollar bill down onto the table. He got into the passenger side of Natasha’s ride and they sped off.

You finished off your coffee, and started to make your way back to the compound. Once you reached the building, you headed off towards your tiny office space. You dropped off the folder, and then immediately left the room, running straight into Natasha.

“Woah, hey, slow down there,” she said, giving you a friendly smile. “Where are you off to?”

You waved a hand around in the air. “I need to go meet with Tony. He’s trying to help me finish this mission Fury gave me. But I’m surprised you’re back already.”

“It was a quick meeting. But I should probably get a head start on my project. See you later.” 

Natasha walked past you, but you suddenly called out her name, wanting to ask her about something.

“So, um, this is such a random question, but are you and Steve a thing?” you asked shyly.

Natasha recoiled, her eyes widening. “Oh my god, no. What would make you ask that?”

“Well, when we were at breakfast, he was looking up how to flirt with a girl on his phone. And you’re really the only girl he talks to so....” 

Natasha busted out laughing. “That’s funny. But no, we are definitely not a thing. And um, clearly if you guys were having breakfast, I’m not the only girl he talks to,” she said, giving you a pointed look. 

Not sure how to respond to that, you just stood there for a few seconds, even after Natasha had walked away. There was no way that Steve Rogers had feelings for you. Right?

Snapping out of your thoughts, you remembered your meeting with Tony. Walking into the small conference room, he was already there, along with Steve.

You felt your face turn red as the two of you made eye contact. It’s not like you had never thought about it before. Steve was definitely attractive and he had always been kind and friendly towards you. 

“Hey y/n,” Tony said, startling the both of you. “Have a seat, I just need to grab a cup of coffee and I’ll be right back.”

He stalked out of the room, just leaving you and Steve. 

“So, Rogers. You finally going to tell me who you were attempting to flirt with?”

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that was starting to form. “Nope.”

“Ah, but at least you’re admitting it was you who looked it up this time,” you said, returning his smile.

“Fine, you got me. But I’m not telling you anything else.”

“That’s ok. I know you like me, Rogers.”

A look of shock passed over his face but he quickly tried to cover it with indifference. “Well, yeah, we’re friends.”

You crossed your arms and sighed dramatically. “Ok, I guess I won’t bother telling you how I feel about you then.”

“Ok, fine, fine. Yes, y/n, I like you. Of course I like you. You’re beautiful, a good fighter, kind-hearted. What’s not to like?” he said, giving you a small glance, his face flushed pink.

“Well, I like you too,” you said, grinning back at him.

Just then, Tony strutted back into the room, and abruptly stopped, glancing back and forth between you and Steve. “I feel like I’m interrupting something here.”

[dailydaydreamings]

Best in the Worst Way, Part 9

For some reason I absolutely struggled to write this one. I have no idea why. I had such a good idea but nothing. I really wanted this one to have a sex scene too, I wrote it and it didn’t freaking save. So I’ve got nothing on that. It just means a better sex scene is to come ;)

Please enjoy, this gets pretty close to sex (mostly foreplay) and there’s some swearing and mentions of trauma. Oh, and chapter ten will be up tonight too.

The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?

The boys had been gone for almost three weeks. Everyday was a lesson in patrience, and you were failing, miserably. You’d probably be doing a much better job if you’d heard from either of them, but complete radio silence was all you got.

Natasha hung out in your office a lot, trying to keep you distracted. You regularly had dinner with Tony, Pepper, and Morgan three times so far. Everyone else seemed to be flocking to your office more frequently too.

Everyone knew who the babies fathers could be, of course. No one mentioned it, but how could they not when Steve and Bucky’s feud was common knowledge now. Mostly, though, you thought everyone just believed you had been sleeping around, not with both of them.

“Who’s having a baby?!” Carols voice carried through the building. You look up to see her standing, observing the betting pool outside your office. Apparently not everyone knew yet.

You laugh, standing up and smoothing you flowy dress over your bump. Her face was priceless as she came into plain view.

“No way!” She grinned.

“Surprise!” Nat said, standing from the seat in front of you, where she’d been planning your baby shower. Carol gave her a brief hug before coming around to give you one.

“I’m so shocked,” she said, holding you at arm’s length to look at you. “I mean, who’s the father?”

“Ooooh, that’s the question, it’s either Bucky and/or Steve,” Natasha chimed in, reaching for a cookie from your desk.

You cringed slightly.

Carol just blinked in surprise, “What do you mean or?”

You chuckled, “Well, you know, there’s two babies and —”

“Like this,” Natasha held up one hand with her index and thumb making an O and shoved two fingers from the other hand in repeatedly.

“I never told you that,” you pointed at her.

Carol just laughed, going to sit beside Natasha. “Are you being serious though? Like, both of them?”

You nodded, “I was sleeping with both of them.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, “At the exact same time?”

You pursed your lips, but you oils to help the cheeky smile creeping up on your lips. “Yes.”

Natasha threw her head back and laughed, “Okay but did you, you know, both of them...?” And she made the same crude gesture she made earlier.

“Oh my God Natasha! That’s so rude!” Carol exclaimed. But then she turned to you, propping her chin on her first and said, “You need to tell us now.”

“Do you really need to know?” You ask.

Carol and Natasha look at each other, and then looking back at you, said in unison, “Yes.”

You clicked your pen twice, “Not at first.”

They both cheered and your face flushed. You never imagined saying that out loud. God, seventeen weeks ago you’d never have thought of this moment.

Seventeen weeks ago

Sitting in Steve’s room, you picked up your phone to look for an automatic text from FRIDAY to tell you where the boys were. They were projected to be back from their mission any minute now.

And you were laying on the bed, naked, waiting for them and drinking a glass of wine (which was going straight to your head). You’d debated how to pose on the bed endlessly, opting to stretch across the white sheets on your side, fully facing the door. If anyone was in the hallway when they walked in, they would have a full view.

God, the waiting was making you fucking horny. The month and a half mission wasn’t helping anything. You new the boys would be ravenous when they walked in. Which only turned you on more.

The nights had been so long without them. It had been a while since you’d slept alone, definitely the longest without sex in almost a year. Whatever would ensue tonight would be worth the wait.

FRIDAY’s text told you they’d landed five minutes ago. You had dozens of messages from Stark, and they could wait until morning. You really didn’t give a fuck when your boys were about to walk in. Putting your phone back on the nightstand, you heard key pad beep as someone punched in the code.

Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you shamelessly displayed your entire body as the door opened. Steve’s face appeared, his eyes met yours and he swore.

He actually said, fuck! Before quickly closing the door, with him on the outside.

You frowned, concerned you’d done something wrong until you heard Steve say from the other side, “Sam, maybe now isn’t the time for a drink.”

You covered your mouth with your hand to keep your laughter in. Should you hide? It wouldn’t be the first time you’d almost been caught.

“Come on,” Sam’s voice could be heard clear as day from the other side of the door. You were so close from being caught and you were far too busy dying of laughter. “You just got back, we need to celebrate.”

“Look,” Steve said. “I’m really tired. Tomorrow, I promise.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” Ok, now you were debating hiding.

“Sam,” you could barely hear Bucky’s quiet voice, “it was a really tough mission, I really need to talk to Steve.”

“Oh!” Sam said, “yeah, of course, text me if you need anything.” No one fucked around when it came to Bucky’s mental health. You debated if you’d gone a little too far with your surprise, not knowing how the mission had gone until the door opened again.

Steve slipped in, trying the keep the door as shut as possible. Not suspicious at all. Then Bucky walked in, he took one look at you and whistled. Long and low as he shamelessly looked at you.

“Fuck Steve,” Bucky said, “how did we go a month without this one?”

You giggled slightly, especially as Steve sat down on the bed beside you and said, “I know. Sexy mink.”

You sat up until you were eye to eye with Steve and said in a husky voice, “Welcome back.”

He was in you a second later, his mouth fighting yours as he pushed you down onto the bed. There was no time for romance, he pined your arms over your head with one hand as he kissed your neck.

You threw your head back and moaned, your core tightening and toes curling.

He licked the inside of your ear and you nearly came right there just from that. Holy fuck, you weren’t sure if you said that aloud.

He was kissing you with so much passion you lost track of his other hand until you felt it...oh god, you felt it push apart your folds and find that spot.

Your entire body convulsed at the feeling. Fuck, you needed him inside you now.

“What a good girl,” you felt the bed shift as Bucky sat down beside your head. He was naked, a glass of wine in one hand, the other hand stroking his shaft as he watched Steve make you moan.

“Buck,” you started, but then Steve’s mouth moved down to your tits and sucked in a nipple. Your hands clenched to hold onto something but there was nothing.

Bucky put down the glass, laying across the bed behind your head, propped up on an elbow as he continued to stroke himself, “Does Steve make you feel good, baby?”

You would have answered but Steve shoved a finger inside you, his thumb doing circles over your clit. You settle for nodding vigorously as you humped his hand. Desperately.

Bucky leaned down until his mouth was level with your ear, and licked that spot behind it that made you squirm and your core tighten. “Use your words baby, or I’ll get Steve to stop and you’ll have to watch him blow me.”

That had happened once. Bucky had even tied your hands behind your back so you could only watch as Steve swallowed him whole, your core tightening painfully.

You struggled to keep your eyes open as Steve added another finger and you said, “He makes me feel so good.”

Bucky smiled, that sexy boyish smirk of his as he leaned down and kissed you, so slowly and gently, compared to the ruffness of Steve teeth on your chest.

Bucky kept eye contact with you as he said, “Steve, does she taste as good as she looks?”

Steve pulled his fingers from inside of you and you gasped in protest. You were so fucking close!

He put his index finger in his mouth and nodded, “You wanna taste?”

Bucky reached for Steve’s hand, dragging his eyes from you to look at Steve as he took his middle finger in his mouth. The three of you moaned, at the pure sexiness of Bucky, and also him tasting you apparently.

Bucky pulled away and looked down at you, captive on the bed below him, “You have two options, baby, Steve and I came up with them on mission while we were fantasizing about this moment. First, we can keep going like this. We’ve missed your taste and we want to make this about you and make you feel good. Or,” he leaned down and whispered in your ear, “you can take care of us.”

You really didn’t need to think, you sat up and said to him, “Get the lube.”

Bucky chuckled and did as he was told, and Steve rolled off you to lay down beside you. He stroked up and down your body slowly, from your clit, between your breasts, and down again. You squirmed, desperate now.

“I’ve really missed you guys,” you murmured, rolling over so you were facing Steve.

He smirked, a finger trailing over your slit, “I can tell, baby.”

You shivered, but still managed, “I’m serious. Did everything go okay over there?”

Steve propped his head up to look past you, where Bucky was definitely cursing in the bathroom about where the freaking lube was. Steve lowered his voice, “Buck had a really hard time. I don’t know how many more missions he’s got left.”

That was definitely a sobering thought. You propped yourself on your elbow to get a better look at him.

Steve was scared. Actually, terrified would be a better word for it. Your blood ran cold.

“What. Happened?” You demand.

Steve’s eyes darted behind you, and he murmured, “Later.”

Because Bucky walked in the room, rubbing lube on himself, saying, “You ready for us baby?”

You wanted nothing more than to sit the boys down and get to the bottom of what happened on this mission. In fact, the very next day you would. Because after multiple rounds of earth shattering sex, Steve would shake you awake while Bucky was in the shower and tell you that Bucky couldn’t focus on the mission. He missed some key piece of information and almost died. Stave almost died with him. If it hadn’t been for Sam, neither of them would have come home.

Bucky would break down and admit that he hadn’t slept more than two hours a night in weeks. He got away with it at the compound because he could nap, but missions were a different story. He couldn’t fake it on a mission.

He would tell you and Steve his nightmares were so, so much worse. And every time he walked around a blind corner his whole body went on red alert and a couple of times he’d pinned an intern into the wall thinking it was an enemy sneaking up on him. His mind was in constant overload and he was having trouble keeping story and reality separate. He was essentially, unraveling.

So, a new therapy protocol was initiated. Missions were postponed. Everything seemed to being going great.

Then, you found out you were pregnant and Steve left. Bucky still went to therapy twice a week, but his routine was totally disrupted. And it was bad on you for forgetting to ask him about his exercises and if everything was okay.

Because suddenly he was whisked away on a mission and it had been almost three weeks and you hadn’t heard anything. He and Steve still weren’t on good terms.

You were so, so terrified any day now you would hear that they’d died.

Tags

@booktease21 @sexyvixen7 @just-the-hiddles @fading-mentality-bouquet @a--1--1--3 @broco8 @yougottalovefandoms @hailqueenconquer @tazzi-baby @imaginebeinlovedbyme @amiets2 @prettyblueskylark

[stanknotstark]

Astral Pt. 13 (Loki x Reader)

I’m introducing ANOTHER character :D Morgan is very interesting and her powers are like Kang’s I’m very curious as to who would win in a fight tbh i wish i could’ve written an action scene because she can mind control and OH the drama that I could have played with! You guys are lucky cuz i had something worse written >:D

You and Loki are eating breakfast together in silence. When you finish your plate Loki tells you to grab a book from his quarters, while he finishes, so he can help you research Asgard. Then meet him in the common area since no one is there right now. 

Loki likes to teach you and watch your curiosity flare as you read up on Asgard, its customs, how healers work, how royalty works, instead of telling you. It’s the least he can do since you’ll never actually see Asgard in person. He’s a fantastic storyteller but you know he has a weakness, that weakness being that when you truly concentrate on something sometimes you stick your tongue out a bit and narrow your eyes. Other times you look at the book with guileless fascination. Plus, Loki knows there’s more satisfaction from learning on your own. He’s always there to answer your questions and debate with you though.

You walk back into the common area after grabbing the book, Loki looks at you, then a cloud of dark green appears between you both. Before you can react accordingly feminine arms are yanking you into the cloud of magic and you’re in someone’s arms definitely not at the tower anymore. You can only imagine what Loki is thinking. The last thing he probably saw was the book fall when you dropped it. Now he’s probably thinking the worst is going to happen, that you’re going to die, and honestly you don’t know what’s going on. For all you know you might actually be about to die. 

You try to wave off the nausea and dizziness following the teleportation you endured and assess your surroundings but someone is roughly pulling you somewhere. Just as you get your wits back there is a tight rope constricting your hands behind your back and around your ankles. You’re shoved into a rocky wall, twisting, back first causing you to let out a breathless grunt and slide into a sitting position on the ground.

Looking up you see a beautiful woman. She stands tall, her chin out in confidence. Her pale, petite face is framed by pitch black hair, the long tendrils held in braids resting on her chest and trailing to her hips they’re so long. She wears a green and black corset that flows into thigh armor that is engraved. No not engraved, made of actual scales, you shiver at the thought of what could have scales that big, nothing from Earth that’s sure. To end her amazing outfit, her green with black lace boots are thigh highs. You can faintly smell leather and something sweet you’ve never smelled before. You’re pretty sure this woman could be a really good dominatrix if she wanted to.

“That was much easier than expected. If the Avengers are Earth’s best defenders I’m disappointed, to say the least.” The woman tells you looking at her nails in boredom. You pick out her British accent.

You realize you’re not in immediate danger and say, “While I don’t mind getting kidnapped by beautiful women I usually like to know their names first, maybe take me on a date before you bring me back to your place.”

The woman chuckles. “My name is Morgan Le Fay of Britain, the world’s strongest sorceress, Morgana. That is until you came along.”

You frown. “That’s a mouthful.” 

Morgana shakes her head with a small smile. “Cute.”

“Look I’m not that powerful, I think you have the wrong person, most of the magic I use I can’t use for long because it gives me migraines.” You say while shifting around to get more comfortable. 

You finally take in your surroundings. All you can assess is that you’re in a cave, no telling how far from New York City, home. You know Loki could track you down if you could astral project but you don’t trust Morgana enough to take your eyes off of her. Maybe Tony is tracking your cell phone which you feel sitting in your back pocket. 

“Such a shame you’ll never discover your true potential. I’m here to kill you, child, but I had to get a taste of what runs through your blood before I do.” Morgana says kneeling in front of you. 

Morgana brings a hand to your head and when she touches you she gasps and closes her eyes. You simply watch from under her hand as she shivers. When she pulls her hand away her eyes are bright with curiosity but far away in thought. 

“Why would your mother want to kill someone so powerful, I would think having you on her side would be more preferable.” Morgana says under her breath. You only hear her because she’s so close to you. 

“My mother sent you?” You say trying to stall now that you know her intentions. 

Morgana hums. 

“I know my mother doesn’t love me but I never thought she’d send a glorified assassin after me. I’m honored, honestly.” You say your fingers playing with the rope around your wrists seeing if you could escape somehow. “How does my mother know you anyways, she doesn’t have any powers why would she know a sorceress?” 

Morgana frowns at you, “I like your humor in the face of death.” She quips with a hint of annoyance at your nonchalance of the situation, “When a celestial tells me to do something I tend to not question it.” You look at Morgana like she’s crazy then you watch as realization dawns on her face. 

“My child...You truly do not know?” 

You stop fiddling with the rope and look at Morgana with a raised eyebrow. “Know what? And I’m not a child.”

“Your true birth mother, celestial Madonna.” Morgana says ignoring your plea to be respected.

At this you freeze and lose all the breath in your lungs. 

Thor was right, you’re adopted.

“It was prophesied that celestial Madonna would give birth to the most powerful being in the universe. Kang wanted to be father to such child and hunted her down. He impregnated her, held her captive until she birthed you. She fled when she had the chance but couldn’t take you with her.” Morgana explains while standing and pacing the cave’s floor. “Kang, who was being chased by the Avengers, planted you in an alternate universe and time. No one has known where you were until a few years ago when you used magic for the first time.” Morgana finishes, stopping and looking down at you.

She gives you a look of pity as you process everything. It all made sense now. Kang wants you to be his weapon of destruction. Why your parents have always hated you and treated you like shit. 

“My mother wants me dead and sent you to do her dirty work...Meaning she’s alive somewhere?” You ask trying to not panic with the influx of information.

“She’s here on Earth until she knows you’re dead. Said you’re more of a liability than anything. I’m being paid handsomely for your head.” Morgana says. She then brings a hand up and flicks it. Dark green magic flows and through the smokey magic you see a quin jet then see flashes of Loki, Steve, Natasha, Tony, and Thor talking, concerned and frightened looks on their faces but hear nothing. 

“Your friends are near.” Is all Morgana says like it’s an afterthought. She makes the magic disappear and looks at you with determination. “I have a proposition for you, child.”

You’re not really in the position to argue so you nod at her.

“Promise me you’ll hunt down Kang and right before you deliver the last strike on his miserable life you call on me and let me do it. While I love your mother dearly I have a penchant for revenge.”

“Fine.” You say. At this Morgana looks at you, sizing you up, but decides you’re harmless enough and makes the rope around your wrists and ankles disappear. When you stand she magics a gold ring with a square emerald on it and gives it to you. 

“When the time comes throw this on the ground and stomp on it with your foot then stand back, I shall appear where the ring is.”

You nod and slip the ring onto your right ring finger finding that it fits perfectly. 

“Do not use it for anything else, it is a one time use. If you use it for something trivial I will kill you without hesitation, our deal will be void.” Morgana says, she frowns and without asking places a hand on your head again. This time you feel her magic search your mind and gasp when she does something that makes you feel energetic and calm.

When Morgana pulls her hand away she explains, “Your powers were behind a barrier, I simply destroyed it. You should be able to wield magic without headaches now but you’re going to use your full power unless you learn how to tame it. Do not kill yourself or I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

You look at Morgana in disbelief and annoyance because she keeps threatening your life.

 She gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m truly sorry such a fate has fallen on you, child.” And then she’s gone and you’re left in a dark cave. 

You hadn’t even realized Morgana had used magic to light up the space you both inhabited until you’re left standing in pitch black. Without hesitation you light up both fists with fire and start to make your way out of the cave. You plan to contact Loki when you truly know where you are. However, when you reach the entrance you see the quin jet landing in an open field not that far from the cave’s entrance on the side of a mountain. The first person out of the ship is Loki and he is sprinting towards you, Thor not far behind with Steve and Nat pulling the flank. 

When Loki reaches you you open your mouth to tell him you’re ok but he pulls you into his chest hard and squeezes you till you’re breathless. Then he holds you at arms length and looks over your face first, then body.

“Are you hurt, did she use any magic on you?” He asks urgently.

“I’m fine, Loki, we just talked, she’s not a danger to us.” You say with a small smile that you’re sure doesn’t reach your eyes because Loki doesn’t lose the concerned look on his face. He doesn’t push it either though. Thor stays suspiciously silent when he reaches you both. He touches you as if to check that you’re real but drops his hand and claps Loki on the back more for calming him instead of camaraderie.

You look at Steve and Nat with a small wave and embarrassed grimace when Loki, Thor, and you reach them as you all walk towards the quin jet. After you’ve told them multiple times that you’re fine they all relax a bit but not by much. You mostly feel embarrassed you were taken so easily. You didn’t even put up a fight.

You’re sitting in the quin jet quiet other than to answer their questions without going into details because you’re still trying to unravel what you’ve been told. 

“Why did she take you?” Steve asks, standing in front of you, arms crossed, with Nat next to him while Loki sits at your side, holding your hand. You know he has questions because his fingers keep playing with the new ring on your hand and he gives you looks you can’t decipher. Thor is speaking with Tony in the cockpit so you’re free of their questions until later thankfully.

“She wants me to find Kang so she may kill him.” You say.

Thankfully Loki and Thor had told the group of superheroes who Kang was after the incident with the Growing Man. They told them what they knew of the man which honestly wasn’t much. 

At your words you feel Loki stop playing with the ring. He understands its purpose now. He must have used his magic to look over the ring and see if it was a danger to anyone but especially you, sensing it had magic dwelling in it.

“That doesn’t explain why she took you specifically. She could have told all of us. She didn’t have to kidnap you.” Natasha says knowing you enough to know you’re hiding valuable information. 

You frown and look at your feet. “I-”

You go quiet and everyone stays quiet too, you listen to the engine of the quin jet and Thor and Tony bickering in the background. You think about how Loki’s hand fits perfectly in yours and is soft but has rough patches of callouses from his use of daggers. You take a deep breath in through your nose, closing your eyes, and smell leather, sweat, and that smell the quin jet emits like a new car. 

When you open your eyes you look up at Steve and Natasha and ask, “How did you find me?” 

Natasha frowns at your very obvious deflection. Steve answers. “Tony tracked your cell phone but it’s thanks to Loki we found you so fast. He used his magic to track your magic or something.” Steve says uncrossing his arms and shrugging while glancing at Loki.

You look at Loki who raises a brow at you. “Our bond.” Is all he says at your inquisitive look. You nod in understanding. 

“Where are we, exactly?” You ask them.

“The border of New York and Pennsylvania.” Steve says. That explains why they were able to reach you so quick. If Morgana teleported you so close that means your stalling is the only reason you’re alive. She planned to make you a quick death.

When Nat opens her mouth to ask you another question you shake your head at her. “I’m exhausted can I take a nap before I tell you everything?” You ask, realizing you’ve got at least 45 minutes of free time since the jet isn’t going full speed.

Nat looks a little apologetic and Steve nods and says, “We’re happy you’re ok.” and then they both make their way to the opposite side of the quin jet. 

You and Loki settle into the quin jet’s seats as comfortably as you can. He stays suspiciously quiet about everything but brings an arm up and around your shoulders and lets you lay your head on his shoulder where it meets his neck. When you’re settled he keeps holding your hand but his free hand around your shoulder comes up to stroke your hair. It doesn’t take long to fall asleep. 

Pt. 12.1/Pt. 13/?

Tage list: @justfangirlthingies​ @emelieh99​ @high-functioning-lokipath​ @loveableasshole​ 

[transientwordsmith]

The Swear Jar

Ok so I wrote some fanfic for yall :) its MCU fanfic, in an AU (idk which just go with it my dudes). I hope yall like it :D Here is a link to the fic on AO3. Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov | Word Count: ~1900

This story begins on one fine Sunday when Mr. Steve Rogers purchased a rather large jar. He bought a package of labels and a large sharpie as well. When he got back to the Avengers Tower, he took a label, wrote “SWEAR JAR” on it, and stuck it to the side of the jar. Then, he put it on a side table for everyone to see.

“Rogers, what the fuck is that?” Tony had asked when he saw it.

“A swear jar,” Steve explained simply. “Which you should put a dollar in, by the way.” Tony sighed dramatically. He then took out his wallet, removed a single, and leaned over Steve to get to the Swear Jar.

“Fine. Here you go. One dollar.” Tony said.

Now, whenever a resident of the Avengers Tower heard the call of “Language!” from Steve, a few moments later they also heard the clink of the glass jar. Peter Parker, who was a spectator of these rather funny events, noted that Clint and Tony were the ones called out most often.

But, alas, most adults do swear, and everyone eventually put at least a dollar in the Swear Jar. Even Peter had added a dollar or two to the Jar. But it was truly self-imposed. He hardly ever swore around adults, and if he did, it was a “Damn!” or the occasional “Shit!” that had slipped out by accident. But, since the appearance of the Swear Jar, that hardly happened anymore.

This went on for about a month before The Incident, as Peter called it.

Peter had been working in the lab with Tony. They were working on their own projects but they enjoyed each other’s company, so they worked in the same lab. They had been working for a while when Tony leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“You want something to drink, kid?” Tony asked.

“Sure,” Peter said. “How about a coke?”

“Sure thing,” Tony said and promptly left.

Peter was unfazed by Tony’s abrupt exit and went back to working on his project. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

“Tony?” Peter looked up. It was Steve. “Oh, hi, Steve,” Peter greeted him. “What’s up?”

“Is Tony here?” Steve asked. Peter shook his head.

“No, he just left. You can stay, if you want to, though.” Peter indicated to an area next to him where Steve could sit.

Steve sat, and Peter went back to his work. They sat there in silence for longer than Peter would have expected. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve flipping through papers and poking various parts and tools. Peter didn’t mind, but he wondered if Tony would. When will he be back? Peter thought.

Then, all of a sudden, Peter was ripped from his thoughts by a sharp yell.

“Fuck!”

Steve was sucking on his finger. He took it out of his mouth to look at it.

“Fuck, that hurt,” he said, quieter this time.

Peter realized in that moment that he had a decision to make:

Confront Steve now, make him deposit a few dollars to the Swear Jar, and tell everyone

Don’t say anything and use this as blackmail

Peter went with option number 2.

“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked Steve. Steve looked at him and they made eye contact for just a moment.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a paper cut.”

“Oh, that sucks. Do you want a Band-Aid?”

“Sure.”

There is actually another Incident that Peter would rather not talk about. In his mind, this is dubbed The Moment.

Peter and Steve had been helping some SHIELD agents move some things from one side of a building to the other side. One of those things just so happened to be a fridge. The agents expressed that they would feel a lot better if Peter and Steve carried it together, even though either one of them could hold it by himself.

They were squeezing through one of the narrower doorways when Peter caught his hand between the fridge and the doorway.

“Fuck,” he swore quietly. Peter let go of the fridge with that hand and shook it out.

Before Peter could grab onto the fridge again, he made eye contact with Steve. Just for a moment. And when Steve didn’t call him out, he realized Steve had made the same decision he had made.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Steve asked.

“I caught my hand between the fridge and the door,” Peter explained.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

This arrangement continued for around a month and a half, where Steve and Peter felt comfortable swearing when they were alone together, but kept the secret when they were around others.

The only thing that threatened this secret, was Bucky Barnes.

Bucky Barnes had been on a mission in California for the past two months and was finally allowed to come back to New York. When he walked into the common room in the Avengers Tower, one of the first things he spotted was the Swear Jar. Peter watched him eye it for a few minutes. Finally, Bucky caved.

“Steve?” he called.

“Yeah, Buck?” Steve called back.

“What’s this?” Bucky asked, his voice sounding like a parent that had just discovered an impromptu mural.

“...It’s the Swear Jar. See? It’s got a little label on it,” Steve explained, indicating the label on the front.

“Ah, I see,” Bucky nodded condescendingly. Peter watched him from across the room and came to a realization: Bucky knew that Steve had the dirtiest mouth out of all of the Avengers, but he decided to use it as blackmail, just as Peter had.

About a week later, Peter decided to organize another video for the Avengers YouTube channel that he ran, called Miscellaneous Inc.

The video begins with this opening card:

It’s animated. The sparkles come and leave out of sync.

[cut]

Some of the Avengers are sitting in a circle. They each have a whiteboard. Someone speaks:

“I swear to god, Clint, nobody’s forcing you to do this!”

[cut]

Peter Parker is sitting on his bed, criss cross applesauce. He waves at the camera.

“Hey, YouTube,” He greets the audience. “It’s me, Peter, saying hello to you on this fine Wednesday afternoon. Today, I have somehow convinced a whole bunch of the Avengers to play ‘Who’s More Likely To’ with me! I honestly don’t know how I convinced them to do it, but I did. Anyway, I asked you guys to ask some ‘Who’s More Likely To’ questions on Twitter, and I went through them! FRIDAY’s gonna read them out, though, so if you put emojis it might sound a little weird.”

[cut]

Peter, Tony, Steve, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, Sam, Wanda, and Vision are sitting in a circle, each equipped with a handheld whiteboard and a pen.

“Hi, camera!” Peter waves to the camera, mostly to make sure everyone else is aware of it. “You may notice that we are a few Avengers short. I promise, they are not dead. These are the only people I could convince to play with me. So far, that is. Should everyone introduce themself?” Peter asked and looked around the circle. Nobody really gave a definite reaction.

“We’ve all been on your channel before, yes?” Wanda asked.

“I guess…” Peter said.

The video froze and became a bit dimmer. Suddenly, names and arrows appeared on the screen, going around the circle, each appearance being noted by a small ding.

← Tony Stank (Iron Man)

← Peter Parker (me :D)

← Steve Rogers (Cap)

← Bucky Barnes (the coolest)

← Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

← Natasha Romanov (Black Widow)

← Sam Wilson (Falcon)

← Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

← Vision (Vision)

“Peter,” Peter said to the camera. “Do something cool during editing. A message came up on the screen: “I got you ;)”

[cut]

“Okay.” Peter clapped his hands. “Let’s get started. To reiterate, this is the ‘Who’s More Likely To’ Challenge. How you play is basically, a question is asked, like, ‘who’s more likely to land an arrow in the bullseye on the first try’. Then you write down who you think would be more likely to do that and then we all compare our answers. Does that make sense?”

Everyone nodded their heads.

“Great. FRIDAY, please read the first question.”

“Who’s more likely to say something they’re not supposed to in front of the press?” FRIDAY’s disembodied voice said.

Everyone wrote on their whiteboards for a few moments.

“Okay, let’s see your answers,” Peter said and turned around his board. Everyone followed suit. There were quite a few answers. The two most popular were “me” (“That’s not an answer, you guys,”) and Peter.

“Next question!” Instructed Peter.

“Who’s more likely to break something and leave it for the next person to fix?”

The most popular answer for that one was Tony.

Who’s more likely to accidentally knock someone out?

Steve.

Who’s more likely to keep saying “one more try” on a trick shot?

Sam.

Who’s more likely to have a weird secret habit?

Clint.

Who’s more likely to tip off a metal detector by accident?

Answers evenly split between Natasha and Bucky.

Who’s more likely to swear the most?

Peter had been waiting for this one. He curated the questions so he knew this one would show up eventually. He saw Steve and Bucky make eye contact. He watched as Bucky turned toward him and looked him straight in the eye. It was as if he was saying, “Now is the time to break our silence.”

“Turn your boards!” Peter instructed. They all did. Apart from Peter and Bucky, the most common answers were Tony and Clint.

“Steve?” Tony asked. “Peter, did you hear the question? They said the dirtiest mouth.”

“Yeah, I know. Bucky, you can back me up, right?” Peter looked to Bucky for someone to back him up.

“I only have my word, kid,” Bucky said solemnly.

Then Peter remembered.

“Hold on, actually. I have something. FRIDAY, show me that day Steve and I were in the lab together!”

FRIDAY rolled the clip. Then, everyone was able to see the true Steve Rogers. They were all shocked, to say the least. Steve sat there with a dumbstruck expression, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“So what do you have to say for yourself, Capsicle?” Tony asked him.

“Uh...I’m sorry?” Steve tried.

“You’re damn right you’re sorry!” Clint yelled playfully. “I’ve lost at least $100 to that damn Swear Jar! Speaking of which, what do you do with all the money?”

Steve stalled for as long as possible, but it was inevitable. He would have to tell them.

“I spent it on art supplies and ice cream.”

“You did what?!”

[cut]

Peter was back on his bed. He waved to the camera again.

“Thank you guys so much for watching! I can try and convince them to do this again sometime if you’d like! See you next time!

The video ended. Peter turned off the camera.

“Steve is going to kill me…”

[404leafclover]

please... give us your indepth tankman hcs.. i beg (fr though i love your art style oml)

SEEING THIS ASK LITERALLY MADE MY DAY THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON it’s so sweet of you to say that and ask holy crap!!!! /pos  ok-k-k my headcanons on captain + steve’s personality are very varied cuz it was originally based off of my interpretation of fanart before I watched the shorts- and then there’s the pico headcanons and also just the gay headcanons- goodness gracious let me try to paraphrase Captain + Steve - alot of my interpretations come from @/eyeballing (twt)‘s hcs , like the one where Steve does the taxes and Captain found & adopted Pico right after the events of Pico’s School ( I personally headcanon that Steve helps Pico with homework ) ANYWAYS - Captain... he’s obnoxious (affectionate) like I said in the tags of my doodle post he tends to talk over people alot, and doesn’t like to be sentimental so he sorta just acts like a dumbass- BUT HE REALLY CARES ABOUT STEVE AND THE OTHERS and he’s a silly type guy too!! He likes to do whatever he wants but tries to give his friends more space for them to do their own thing too. He hates coming off as sappy but the last thing he wants to do is genuinely hurt someone’s feelings...  - ( for one of the shorts where he says he didn’t care about Steve’s birthday-  and I think he either GENIUNELY forgot and wanted to play it cool OR he went overboard and got Steve a big birthday party and gifts planned to surprise him ) - Steve is much more book-smart and people-smart than Captain, and sometimes tries to overcompensate for how brash Captain is. He’s definitely not as carefree as Cap but at the same time they’re both dumbasses and hang out together more than either of them would like to mention. I honestly don’t know how to explain how I interpret Steve cuz on one hand he’s like, Captain’s foil where he’s more serious and brighter, but then I watch the shorts AND THEY’RE BOTH STUPID /lh - Steve seems exasperated with Captain’s antics a lot and gets annoyed quickly but actually has a LOT of patience for him- and Captain often is the one to hold Steve back from being mean ( “n-no Steve, don’t-” “buddy! you’re ugly and nobody likes you!” - Tankman .5 )  - before they started dating Captain really went back and forth alot with affection cuz he’d be really affectionate and clingy (while respecting boundaries of course) but then act tough because he’s insecure about being sentimental- Steve could see right through Cap though  AGAIN THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING I’m so sorry if this is incoherent or way too much to read, I’ll try and project more headcanons onto my doodles cuz that’s easier to express x) I hope you enjoyed reading about them!! please look forward to more drawings! 

[tealin]

Basler to the Beardmore 1: You See a Plane, You Take It

As always, the original post is up at the official blog – the formatting definitely works there, if you are having issues with it here.

When planning my research trip with the Antarctic Artists & Writers Program, I had to make a wishlist of places to visit.  One of the more important ones was the Beardmore Glacier, the route by which Scott and his men climbed from the Ross Ice Shelf (or, as they called it, the Barrier) to the Polar Plateau.  It's one of the largest glaciers in the world, but is hardly visited anymore so is rarely photographed, and despite the blessing of Google Image Search, I had too poor a sense of it to draw a journey up or down it with any confidence.

Setting foot on the Beardmore turned out be prohibitively demanding, logistically, but there are regular LC-130 flights between McMurdo Station and the Pole which traverse the Beardmore en route.  The plan we made was for me to get on one of those, and snap as much as I could from one of the small windows as we flew.

November 2019 turned out to be a terrible time for Pole flights – if the weather was OK at Pole, there was a problem with the planes, or vice versa.  However, the weather delays worked in my favour, because they affected not only Pole flights, but one particular season-opening flight, which had been bumped so many times that it still hadn't gone when I turned up. That meant I could get a seat.

The big flights ffor the USAP’s operations in East Antarctica – cargo and passenger flights on/off continent, and to major stations like Pole and WAIS Divide – are handled by the New York Air National Guard, and their fleet of enormous military airplanes, namely a C-17 and small handful of LC-130 Hercules.  There are lots of smaller trips from McMurdo to satellite stations, and these are serviced by Kenn Borek Air, a Canadian company which operates out of Calgary, Alberta.  At the start of every season, they fly their fleet of Twin Otters and Baslers down the length of North and South America, then leapfrog depots down the Peninsula and thence to various hubs including McMurdo.  From there they move people and stuff where they need to go, and also restock those fuel depots.  There was one depot flight that remained to be done, and it happened to be to a cache near the base of the Beardmore, so they agreed to take me along.

I was not the only extra job tacked on to the flight. After depoting the fuel, we were to scout out a camp in the Transantarctic Mountains which had been in regular use until a some fierce winds a few years ago had scoured great furrows in the landing strip.  Was it landable again?  What state was the camp in?  We would find out.  They also wanted to scope out a historic site that left no physical trace, to get updated intel on its condition.  Then we would fly north again via the Beardmore and the coordinates for One Ton Depot.

As soon as the Basler had finished her more pressing engagements, we were put on alert for the depot run.  Everything in Antarctica is weather-dependent, and that can change on a dime, so one is always on standby.  Because they needed to make the most of the Basler's time, they would put two missions on for any given day, then the one with the best prospects would be activated.  For five days I was ready to go – breakfasted, fully suited up, lunch packed, ECW bag to hand – at 7 a.m., in case my flight was the one that was going.  Flight status would be announced on the screens at the entrance to the Galley.

For four mornings I joined the poor Thwaites Glacier team anxiously hanging on the screens – they were trying to get out to WAIS Divide (the high point of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet, from which they would catch a flight to the Thwaites camp) where the weather had been abominable for a month.  One of those mornings my flight was activated and I got all the way out to the airfield only for it to be called off at the last minute because of a change in forecast for the depot site.  But finally, the fifth morning, it was all systems go!

There are two airfields that serve McMurdo: Phoenix, which is designed to take the massive C-17s on a packed snow runway where they can land with wheels, and Williams Field, of groomed snow, for ski'd aircraft.  The extra special thing about Williams Field is that it's more or less where Scott's 'Safety Camp' was located – so named because it was far enough onto the ice shelf not to break up and float out to sea – so the view to Ross Island from there would have been very familiar to our explorers.  On the day of my false start, while waiting to find out that the plane wasn't going after all, I got to take some good pictures of the view from there.  It was also a good day to get a sense of the 'bad light' that obliterated contrast on the snow and made navigation difficult:

The Sea Ice Incident took place between us and the conical hill to the left!  Wild!

Anyway, Try no. 5 was on a much nicer day.  Here is the magnificent bird with her spanking new paint job:

It was a funny experience – I mean, besides sharing the fuselage with many hundreds of gallons of flammable liquid – in that it was an island of Canada amidst all the Americans. The crew all lived in BC when they weren't in Antarctica, and next to my seat were the usual set of flight safety brochures, in English and French, just as if we were flying out of Calgary.

Our pilot was named Steve, and I learned from him that, if you're training to be a pilot in Canada, you have to do your qualifying hours in the North.  Most people put in their time and then get a comfortable job flying passengers between major southern cities, but Steve liked the North so much he stayed and stayed, until he got the job with Kenn Borek and ended up South.  As much as I feel obliged to make a facetious quip about my flammable fellow passengers, I can honestly say I have never felt safer in an airplane than this one.  This was just as well, as one of the first things we did once we were in the air was rather exciting.

The Basler is a workhorse, and one of the Antarctic planes (though I never found out if it was this one) had actually flown in WWII – they just keep going and going.  However, the hydraulics that lift the landing gear were designed to lift just the landing gear, not the landing gear plus 650-pound skis, so in order to get them up we had to lose some weight.  And we did this by climbing steeply up and then nose-diving, bringing us temporarily closer to zero G.  We had to do this every time we took off, and it took 2-3 goes to get the skis up successfully.  You'd expect someone with a history of nervous flying and a sensitivity to motion sickness to find this unpleasant, but it was just plain awesome.

This post is getting long already, so I will describe our errands in detail over the next two posts.  I really must take the time here, though, to give my regards to Kenn Borek Air. I don't think anyone in Canada knows how absolutely vital they are to everything that gets done in Antarctica; their vermillion planes keep camps supplied and people moving around, and are the everyday lifeblood of the continent, in the most literal circulatory sense.  Steve and the Basler may possibly have saved the Thwaites Glacier project this season – after a month of delays getting people and freight out to the field camps, it was reaching a point where they might have called off the massive international project for this year.  But they allocated the Basler to the WAIS flights and Steve landed it in conditions that the NYANG wouldn't – the Basler couldn't fly nearly as much cargo as a Herc, but they got enough out there that some work could begin.  I haven't seen this mentioned in any of the Thwaites coverage and I'm sure it hasn't been covered in Canada, but for a country that doesn't even have a national Antarctic program, they should be mighty proud of the central role their people play in making other countries' programs happen.

[indistinct-echo]

my memory is shit but it’s better than stereo

1. Ghosts

a viewer suggested they make their topic “stereo 101″ so that viewers will chime in with helpful info since they’re new but phil was basically like no, ghosts

phil said that a painting that’s been hanging for years suddenly fell so it must be a ghost

he also told the same story that he’s mentioned previously about the woman at the end of the bed, having a guest sleep there and have the same experience, and the subsequent exorcism (there was a brief divergence into foot-fetish territory when rosie made a comment about the ghost specifically hanging out at the foot of the bed)

rosie is also onboard the ghost train / ghost boat (actual quote)

highlight was when a listener sent a clip about a ghost experience where they saw a 6-foot shiny-smooth bat in their room and both phil and rosie were uh... very into that person’s voice (phil called it smooth as the bat, I believe)

2. Animals 

(this actually wasn’t all at once but i’m combining it into one topic)

part of the transition from ghosts to animals was when a listener said he had a dog that just stared at a wall the whole time, phil suggested that he check to see what’s behind the wall

tangent into if animals can be ghosts, phil seems to think yes but says they’d be more chill and just hang out as opposed to trying to get revenge on ex-boyfriends (does phil have a ghost ex that’s been giving him trouble?)

phil spoke about being afraid of horses, especially at night (I think?) and also seemed to project the horse fear onto rosie but she agreed horses are scary, said he once got to go see horses as a treat (??) given the previous foot convo, we got to hear the phrase “hoof-fetish”

phil was trying to express varying magnitudes of “goose-bump-ness” and in the end the three tiers ended up being: goose-bumps, swan-bumps, and ostrich-bumps (the last one was contributed by a listener and phil thought it was brilliant)

a listener requested they make the sound of a stressed cow. they did. i don’t quite remeber phil’s whole backstory but the cow in his story was very stressed. the moo was traumatic. rosie said it gave her goosebumps. rosie’s backstory was about a cow giving birth (she’s never given birth)

they spoke about how long various animals live (phil really doesn’t trust the ones super deep in the ocean) and phil spoke about the regenerating jellyfish. he said he’d want to live forever if he could (though he thinks the tech won’t be out until he’s like nintey).

parrots apparently live for ~70 years to which phil said that if he got one now it’d outlive him :( and they spoke about having to pass parrots down

out of the blue, rosie was like, ok but pigeons certainly cant live that long and you can hear the lightbulb going off in phil’s head bc he’s googled this and he starts to talk about his pet pigeon called steve (that’s definitely always steve and not just random pigeons), rosie is like “whoa whoa whoa” gotta explain that, she affirms that they have a really strong bond once phil mentioned that he took him to the vet. phil says that he eats from a bird feeder and not out of his hand and says that when it rains steve put his beak up against the glass and it’s really hard for phil not to let him in but he doesn’t want him to poo on the sofa (tangent into a rosie story about an accidentally-trapped pigeon getting poo all over her childhood home)

they transition into chameleon talk and a listener asks about creating a chameleon domino chain

phil was a big tomogatchi person (he calls himself the tomogotchi pro) and calls himself a cool kid

3. Embarrassing Moments

they are asked by a listener about their most embarrassing moments and they discuss how hard that is to come up with on the spot but obvs phil has plenty

he speaks about how once he was one a train from london to manchester and there were no seats, he was looking through the cars and eventually he found one next to a lady that was sleeping. he didn’t want to startle her so he sits down with a proper thump (so she knows he’s there) and is trying to give her space so he sits with one butt-cheek only. the woman then puts her hand on phil’s thigh and phil panics. rosie suggests the woman was faking but phil was like, no: worse; turns out her bf/partner/etc was in the bathroom near them and came out to find phil in his seat and the woman had thought it was her partner, a laugh is had at phil’s expense

rosie talks about how when she was making out with a guy in her exploring sexuality years (her words) she once was just in a bra and heard her bf’s mother(?) come home but she couldn’t find her shirt so she just covered herself completely in a blanket on the couch and was like “can you give us a minute?” and then instead of waiting for them to go sheepishly find her, the mother comes back in the room for 30 minutes and chats with them

a listener sent a voicenote saying they had an embarrassing moment when he was flirting with some guy (you could see phil’s avatar open it’s mouth like phil was almost going to jump in and be like ‘yay, another gay!’) at a karaoke bar and guyB said to guyA that he was going to sing “your song” and guyA was like awww you’re going to sing my song? and guyB went “no, ‘your song’ by elton john” whoops, rosie couldn’t immediately remember how it went so phil kind of sings it a bit for her (not his best work) and then she starts singing too 

phil then talks about the ass tweet with the typo that he doesn’t remember typing so it was probably an ass tweet from his ass and it was funny bc everyone else was saying happy new year, but he just said ass. he laughs about how the tweet is still up

that’s pretty much all I can remember at this point! maybe my brain will plonk out some more memories later but here’s what I’ve got for now :)

[steebrogurz]

I Love You As I love Him

Summary: you are in love with Steve Rogers but things get interesting when you confess you feelings for his best friend.

pairing: Steve x gender neutral!Reader, Bucky x gender neutral!reader

word count: 1900

a/n: here’s some angst with a happy ending :) this may be a multi part fic so let me know what you think! :)

Your relationship with Steve was perfect. He loved you and in the year that you were together you still found yourself falling more and more in love with him. But a month ago you realized that you were starting to develop feelings for someone else and you had no idea what to do about them.

What's worse is that those feelings were for Bucky Barnes. His best friend! You didn't know how or when they started but you would occasionally catch yourself staring at him when he was around. You would blush anytime he smiled at you, and your heart would race if he got close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. There were times when you would even think about him when you touched yourself. At one point things got so bad that you had started to actively avoid being around Bucky altogether.

And you hated these feelings that you had for him. A rush of guilt swept through your body anytime your imagination got carried away, and you felt as though you were betraying Steve and his love for you. But at the same time your feelings for Bucky felt just as natural and fulfilling as your love for Steve.

You loved Steve so much that losing him would destroy you, but you couldn't deny what you felt for Bucky either. And you knew he felt the same, which only made things that much harder. You hoped that if you ignored the feelings they would go away but they only intensified as time went on. You felt stuck and didn't know what to do. Or how to move forward without losing the love of your life. 

You laid in bed staring up at the ceiling, completely consumed by thoughts of Bucky's lips on yours and how his body would feel pressed against yours, as Steve softly snored beside you. He gave a little snort and rolled over which pulled you out of your thoughts and you suddenly felt as if you were drowning. Your chest tightened with guilt and you bolted upright gasping for breath. You clutched at your chest trying to calm your breathing before you woke Steve.

"Y/N?" His concerned voice sounded a million miles away but his hand on your back brought you back to your body. "What's wrong babe?" 

You buried your face in your hands as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn't want to hurt him. You never wanted to hurt him but you couldn't keep lying to him either. It wasn't fair to him and he deserved to know that his partner had feelings for someone else. So you decided to just bite the bullet and tell him everything. 

"I-" you took a shaky breath. "I think I'm in love with someone else." 

When Steve didn't say anything you raised your head to try and gauge his thoughts from his expression. Your heart dropped at the look of shock that played across his face and you instantly regretted saying anything. How could you do this to him! He didn't deserve this heartbreak and you hated yourself for being the one to do it. 

"Who?" He asked quietly, never taking his eyes off of you. "Who is it?" He repeated when you didn't answer right away. 

"Does it matter?" You hoped to at least spare his friendship with Bucky. There was no point in ruining both of Steve's closest relationships. 

Steve reached over and laced his fingers with yours. "Yes it does," he said gently but there was an edge to his tone. 

"Bucky," you sniffled. "And I tried to push these feelings away, I really did! But I can't ignore them anymore and I hate lying to you. I don't want to lose you but I don't know what to do anymore." You sobbed and looked away from him fearing an explosion of hurt and anger, but instead he simply chuckled. The tears stopped almost instantly and you looked at him in confusion. Was he really laughing after hearing that the love of his life was in love with someone else? 

"Yeah, that makes sense. Bucky's great and if you're going to love anyone else I'd rather it be him." Steve smiled at you and pressed your hand to his lips. 

"What? I just told you that I love someone else. Aren't you worried that I might not love you anymore?" You hated asking him that question but you couldn't help yourself. You needed to know.

He chuckled again and took your other hand in his, "sweetheart, there is nothing in this universe that would ever make me doubt your love for me." He pulled you in until you were practically sitting on his lap and gingerly kissed the top of your head. "And as for not knowing what to do, why don't you just tell him? You might feel better after getting it off your chest." 

You pulled back to look at him. "Are you sure?" You asked, fighting a smile that threatened to spread across your face. You had never considered the possibility that you could be happy with both of them. Was that even possible? 

"I'm sure," Steve smiled and nodded. "Now can we go back to bed? Tony wants to meet in the morning for some special project he's working on." He laid back onto the bed pulling you down with him. And you both got comfortable in each other's arms.

"I'll always love you," you whispered to him as he closed his eyes.

"I know," he mumbled against your cheek, already falling asleep again. 

The next day you woke up to find that Steve had already left and those feelings of guilt and doubt came back. Had you only dreamed about your talk with him last night? You could feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you thought about everything you said but you held them back. However, the pit in your stomach remained as you showered and got ready for the day until you found a note on the counter written to you in Steve's scrawling handwriting. 

Tell Bucky how you feel, I have a hunch he feels the same way.  

I love you

You smiled at the note and placed it back on the counter with your mind made up. Today, with the encouragement from your boyfriend, you were going to confess your love to his best friend. 

An hour later you were standing at his front door working up the nerve to ring the doorbell. A million scenarios played out in your head as you stood there. Would he be angry that you would ever think to do something like this while you were still with Steve? Were you wrong in thinking that he loved you back? Would he not feel comfortable being with you if Steve was still in the picture? You were about to give up and leave when you heard someone behind you. 

"Y/N?"

You whipped around to see Bucky standing on the sidewalk with a bag of cat food in one arm and a paper bag full of what looked like fresh produce in the other. 

"What are you doing here?" He asked as he walked up the front steps to the door. He set the cat food down and fished into his pockets for his keys. 

"I wanted to talk to you about something." You said nervously, stepping through the door after him. "But first, you actually do your grocery shopping at 9 in the morning?" You eyed the paper bag with a smirk and Bucky laughed as you walked with him into the kitchen. 

"I like to go to the farmer's markets, they remind me of when I would go with my sister back then." He paused, "when we had the money anyway."

Your smile faded slightly at his words. You often forgot that he grew up in a completely different time than you and that he had a whole life before you met him. "Sorry I didn't mean to make fun or anything."

Bucky laughed again and shook his head. "Don't worry about it, so what's up? What did you want to talk about at 9 in the morning?" He set the two bags on the island then leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed and winked at you. He was a picture of perfection, haloed by the morning sunlight streaming through the large kitchen windows. It took a second for your brain to kick back into gear and find the words you wanted to say. 

"Please don't get mad," you begged and Bucky's smile faded. He braced his hands against the counter as if preparing himself for an attack. You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands trying to push the words out. 

"Y/N, what is it? Did something happen?" His tone was no longer playful. He was now alert and ready for anything. 

"What? No!" You rounded the island so that you were right in front of him. "No, I'm- I think I'm in love with you." Your heart raced as you finally said the words. Steve was right you did feel better after saying them out loud but the anticipation and that came after was almost as bad.

"What about Steve?" Bucky asked after a minute of silence. He didn't sound angry but he was definitely cautious. 

"We're still together. He's actually the one who said that I should tell you."

"And he's ok with this?" You could see Bucky visibly relax in front of you and you nodded waiting to see what he would do. "Thank god," he muttered before closing the space and pulled your body against his. His lips were softer than you imagined and the kiss consumed you to the point that you never wanted to stop. It felt as though the dam between you had finally broken and you were able to pour everything you were feeling into each other. 

His fire met your passion with a crashing wave that almost knocked the wind out of you. In one swift motion Bucky lifted you up onto the counter without breaking the kiss. His lips never left yours while hands explored your body and eventually found their way to the button on your jeans. Bucky quickly got your jeans undone before you were hit with an annoying moment of clarity. You realized what he was doing and pulled his hands away putting a stop to everything. Bucky pulled back but didn't step away from between your thighs. 

Breathing heavily, you both stared at each other as if neither of you could believe this was happening and you smiled at him running your fingers through his hair. You had wanted to do that for so long now, it was softer than you imagined. He sighed and leaned into your touch waiting to follow your lead for what to do next. 

"As much as I'd love to have sex with you in your kitchen, the three of us need to sit down and have a conversation about this first." 

Bucky nodded leaning forward to kiss you again. It wasn't as all consuming but your stomach still jumped into your throat. This was going to take some getting used to but in that moment you knew that you were going to enjoy your time with both your loves.

@oliviawestbay​

[ijustwant2write]

The Butterfly Effect-Bucky Barnes x Powers!Reader

(GIF credit to @rubyslaugh and UGH I LOVE THIS ONE)

Masterlist

Requested by anonymous

Summary: Okie so this is kinda a request but idk exactly what I want 😂 so basically like the reader is an avenger cause she got powers on accident in a lab (like banner) and she has the ability to control plants and like nature and bugs, and basically when ever Bucky is around butterflies form and start flying around her and the rest of the teams realizes but he’s oblivious. Eventually she admits her feelings but he’s not sure cause he’s scared to hurt her, but the end up together? Thank youuuu 💗

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Powers!Reader, mentions of Avengers

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: slight swearing, mention of injuries, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tenderly watering the plants in the greenhouse, I smiled as they instantly lifted around me, growing a few centimetres taller, a little more vibrant in colour. Ever since the accident, my love for gardening grew, as well as my observations. My (dream) job had been working in a lab with different plants, some common and some rare; we were developing ways to grow vegetation quicker to help with problems such as deforestation. However, the company in charge and supplying the money for this huge project didn’t care as much as the scientists did, using radioactive chemicals as well as many other unknown substances. Of course we had protested about this but they didn’t listen. And for some reason, I was the one who took the fall. It was all a big accident, they were testing the substance without my permission, and I I tried to stop them it had spilt all over me. Then I discovered my new abilities.

Plants responded to me, I was able to control them, and now I could even form them out of my bare hands! Recently, insects had also started to respond to me, and one night after a wonderful dream, I awoke to find a butterfly unfolding in my hand. It was truly beautiful, but I had had to keep it a secret. Though I must have not done a good job of that seeing as I was recruited by the Avengers. I had never thought about fighting with plants, however after they showed me the aggression I could use behind it, I found that I was creating massive, twisted vines, enough to crush bones, to pull up the ground and split it open. The grounds weren’t looking too neat after that.

“Hey, (Y/N)! There you are.” Scott announced as he walked into the greenhouse, a wilted cactus in his hand.

“Hi, oh, he’s not looking too good there.”

“Yeah, that’s what I actually came here for.”

“Scott, that’s one of the easiest plants to look after, what happened?”

“Hey, it’s hard being a superhero and a plant mom too!”

“You can’t keep coming to me for help when a plant starts dying.”

“It’s only happened twice before. Please, I will take care of it.”

I sighed before taking the cactus from him, concentrating on making it better. It slowly straightened itself, a beautiful green colour slowly creeping up from the bottom of the plant to the top, the soil now a dark brown and wet. I handed it back over, feeling like a mother telling off their child.

“Thanks (Y/N). Foods ready by the way.”

As I followed him, I had one of those cliche moments; who would ever imagine being in a situation like this? An accident in a lab gave me powers and here I was, fighting with the Avengers; I was an Avenger! All my life I had been the nerdy girl, obsessed with vegetation, friendly but quiet, never speaking up unless absolutely necessary. Yet here I was, surrounded by these amazing people, not only amazing because of their powers and strengths, because of who they were and how they had accepted me. 

In a rare event that everyone was at the base (Steve, Tony, Nat, Clint and Bucky just back from a mission), we were all able to sit down and eat together. Wanda had taken on the role of chef here, a passion she had relighted to keep her happy and busy. She had plated up, some of the team already sat down. I went to grab a plate, bumping into Bucky. Immediately I retracted my hand, suddenly my usual composure tensing, heart beating slightly louder.

“Sorry, you get yours first.”

“Sorry.” I hated how quiet my voice was.

As I went to pick up the plate, three small appeared in my hand. I flinched as I saw them, causing them to flutter away. Wanda opened a window, watching as they flew outside.

“Sorry.” I repeated.“I didn’t actually mean to do that.”

Taking the food, I scurried to sit down, getting into the seat between Tony and Scott. Why had that happened? Was it just an absentminded thought? Was it nerves? Whatever it was, it was making me feel embarrassed for some reason, though no one said anything or even look bothered. Yes, I was an over-thinker, but I had done that in front of Bucky. 

No one could deny the alarmingly good looks of the former Winter Soldier. He was the typical strong silent type, mysterious and brooding at first until you got to know him. At first he had observed me, wondering what I would be like as a part of this team, as did the others. But once I was welcomed, his true colours showed. He was a sweetheart, he would always help me with whatever I needed, reassure me that I was meant to be here. He even tried gardening once but complained when the soil got into the metal of his arm. But I knew a relationship would never happen. We were Avengers, and although Scott and Clint had families, I didn’t see Bucky wanting that, understandable when you look back to what he had been through. It was another secret for me to keep from the world. 

The next morning, I joined Wanda and Nat in training, still thinking about the butterfly incident. It was distracting, and I didn’t know why I couldn’t just push it to the back of my mind. My own thoughts were pissing me off. Sighing to myself, I started warming up beside the others. I was too nervous at times, I needed more confidence in myself, I needed-

“Morning Bucky.” Wanda greeted him.

Fuck.

Great, just great. Just the distraction I needed. He was lovely enough just standing there, but working out? God that was another story. I smiled at him, making my way to the treadmill. Concentrate. Keep your mind focused. Don’t think about him, don’t wonder if he’s looking at you, if he’s lifting those extremely heavy weights....I hated myself sometimes.

“(Y/N)!” Nat startled me, suddenly beside me. I managed to keep my balance, still running.“Do you mind?”

“What?”

“The butterflies again!”

I looked around me, eyes widening and gasping as I saw the amount of butterflies around me. As I realised that there were definitely almost twenty of them, I lost my footing, falling onto my arm as the treadmill threw me off it. Screaming as I thudded onto the floor, I felt hot tears already falling down my cheeks, curling up into a ball when pain surged through me. Everyone fussed around me, giving me space once the shock passed.

“(Y/N), are you OK?” Nat asked, looking at my arm.

I winced.“It’s just my arm.”

“Your foot doesn’t look too good either.” Wanda pointed out.

“It’s fine.” I moved it, crying out when I realised she was right.

“I’ll take you to the hospital ward, there’s no way you’ll be able to get there by yourself.” Bucky said, already manoeuvring me into his arms.

“I’ll message Dr Cho, get her ready for you.” Nat got her phone out, texting away as Bucky stood up, holding me carefully. 

I tried to not cry, not wanting to look any worse in front of Bucky, but it was extremely hard when I couldn’t feel my arm and my foot was throbbing. I had one arm wrapped around his neck, the bad on tucked into my torso, trying not to lean into him. I was stiff in his arms, desperately thinking about anything other than Bucky, especially now and how he was so easily holding me; what a man.

“Oh, they’re back.” He smiled, nodding his head to the two butterflies appearing, they rested on my hair, and I huffed. God, would this nightmare ever end?

“I’m so sorry. This must be so annoying for everyone.” 

“I mean, it’s kind of pretty. At least it’s not flies or wasps, or any other annoying bugs.”

“I mean, I guess so.”

“How come they’re appearing so often? It’s never happened before.”

“Uh, I’m not actually sure. Maybe I’m not as in control of my powers, though I don’t know how that would happen.”

“Maybe you’re overworking.”

“Maybe.”

Dr Cho was waiting for me, gesturing towards the bed Bucky could place me on. When he asked if he should stay, I insisted that he leave. He didn’t need to see me like this anymore, and we didn’t need anymore butterflies in this place. Bucky reluctantly left, a kind smile on his face as he walked away. I let out a sigh of relief, happy that Dr Cho wanted to assess my injuries straight away. When she informed me that I had a minor sprain to the foot and a bad bruising on my arm, I groaned, pissed off at my own clumsiness. She advised that I use a wheelchair to get around (seeing as I couldn’t use crutches yet because of my arm), but when she asked if Bucky should come back, I immediately refused. She was surprised by my snappy tone, though brushed it off as I text Natasha to come get me. I seriously needed my girlfriends right now.

Nat wheeled me to my room, only speaking of my injuries until we got inside. With her help, we hauled myself onto the bed, propping my foot on top of pillows. She sat beside me, both of us resting against the headboard; my head lulled to the side, finding Nat already looking up at me.

“Nat, what do I do?” I moaned.

“What do you mean?”

“The butterflies, they keep appearing.”

“And we all know why.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“To everyone but him.”

“What if he’s playing dumb because he thinks I’m weird?”

“How can you be weird here? You’ve got super soldiers, secret spies, a girl with telekinetic powers, a man who shrinks, a hulk-”

I laughed.“OK, I get it. Still, I just don’t think he would be interest in a relationship.”

“Why?” she whined.

“Superheroes don’t date, especially not each other. Plus, have you seen him? No one would ever put us together.”

“Except everyone living in this facility right now.”

I hid my face in my hands.“Nat, stop getting my hopes up!”

“What, it’s cute! There are butterflies erupting from you every time you see him, it’s the sweetest thing in the world!”

“It’s mortifying.”

“Stop it! You put yourself down too much.”

“I’m being realistic.”

Before we could continue our endless cycle of arguing, someone knocked on the door. I called them in, nerves kicking in again as Bucky poked his head around the door. I glanced at Nat who had a smug smile on her face, instantly wriggling off the bed. I couldn’t say anything, not in front of Bucky.

“What good timing Bucky! I was about to get some more painkillers, you can keep (Y/N) company!” Natasha practically skipped out of the room, and I knew she was wearing a smirk.

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked over, looking down at my foot.“I heard it’s sprained.”

“Yeah, it’s not too serious though. About four or five weeks resting.”

“Well I know where you’ll be spending all of that time.” He perched on the bed next to me.

“Where?”

“In your greenhouse of course. You’re in there for all of your free time anyway.”

I giggled.“I just miss my career, that’s all.”

“You always had a connection with plants, even before your powers. It’s obvious.”

I looked down at my hands, my head hurting from stopping the butterflies showing.“Thank you for earlier. It was sweet of you to take me to Dr Cho.”

“Just call me your knight in shining armour.”

I hesitated, wondering if I should just bring up the elephant in the room.“Bucky...you, uh....you must have noticed all the butterflies suddenly appearing.”

He slowly nodded.“Yeah?”

Oh my god, I’m an actual idiot. Can I even form a sentence anymore?

“Well, they only seem to be here when I’m near you and....well, uh....I think it’s for a reason.”

He stayed silent, only making me more nervous.

“I-I know the reason. I have feelings for you, and I think because I’ve been hiding them, it’s thrown off my control on my powers; and instead of admitting these feelings before, my powers have taken over to express myself.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and I seriously could have burst out crying there and then.“(Y/N), I....”

He doesn’t feel the same. That’s it, I’ve ruined everything.

“I won’t lie and say that I’ve never thought about it.” He ducked his head down, but I could see a small smile.“But why me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, with everything that’s ever happened, I just.....(Y/N), you’re delicate and I’m...I’m not.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not saying I don’t like you. It’s the total opposite. But, I’d be scared to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? How would you hurt me?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really want to think too far into it.”

“I’m sorry Bucky, if you don’t want this then-”

“That’s the thing, I do. I’m conflicted with myself. I guess....after everything that’s happened to me, it seems bizarre that anyone would want to be with me in that way.”

“How could you say that? All of your past, it wasn’t you, it was HYDRA. You’ve turned your life around so much since then.”

“I always thought that I would just focus on my work and then whatever happened, happened, My love life was just forgotten. Until you showed up that is.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, something happened when I laid eyes on you. You were beautiful, extremely smart and you wanted to do the best you could in any situation, despite it all being scary and new. I really respected you, I still do. I think if it were possible, there would be butterflies coming from me too.”

I sheepishly smiled, blushing profusely.“So, what are you saying?”

“(Y/N), are you sure you would want me?”

“I’m certain, I wouldn’t have even started a conversation like this if I wasn’t.”

“I..I’m not even sure what to say.”

“Say yes. Let’s make a go of this. I’m not a confident person, so right now I’m really shocked I’m even saying this all right now.”

He gleamed that gorgeous smile.“Then yes.”

As we smiled at each other, I felt something tickle my hand. Opening it up, we both looked down, a beautiful light red butterfly opening it’s wings. This had to be a sign, or at least something to add to the mood.

“I think this might stop the butterflies for now.”

“I hope so, but what if it has the opposite effect? What if more come?”

“Then we’ll be living in that greenhouse of yours.”

[shemakesmusic-uk]

INTERVIEW: Girl Friday.

LA band Girl Friday's debut full-length Androgynous Mary will be out August 21 via Hardly Art.

Burning deep in Girl Friday's music is an unquenchable will to survive. The LA-based band don't blunt the impact of the themes they work through in their ferocious, knotty rock songs, but they don't let the more harrowing aspects of being alive and young in the 21st century daunt them, either. Taking full advantage of the dystopian shades of post-punk and noise rock palettes on their arresting debut LP, Androgynous Mary, Girl Friday nevertheless suffuse their music with abundant optimism. The world is a hellscape, but the four of them are in it together.

With bold, dramatic guitar lines and tightly wound vocal harmonies, Girl Friday negotiate the stress and alienation that comes with being sidelined from normative society on Androgynous Mary. 

We had a chat with the band all about Androgynous Mary, the music industry and much more. Read the interview below.

Hi! How are you? How have you been spending your time during this pandemic? How has it affected you as a band?

Libby: "Hello! How are YOU? These days, generally diving into some long forgotten projects. I have been chipping away some music that may or may not ever emerge into the world."

Virginia: "I’ve been able to give some more time to working with other bands and collaborators which has been really nice.  Outside of that, just using this time to reflect and learn."

Sierra: "Welcome to this interview. I am stocking up on metaphysical paraphernalia in the hopes that the spirits in my house will finally relent and participate in my long-awaited masquerade ball."

Vera: "Initially I was making tunes and learning Spanish and hanging with my family - now I’m always working but for the teachers union here in NZ so some important work and there is lots to learn."

You are gearing up to release your debut album Androgynous Mary in August. What can you tell us about the record?

Virginia: "In the words of the late Steve Irwin, “She’s a beauty!”  I think we’re all very proud of dear Mary."

Sierra: "Mary likes to explore the entire emotional world at her disposal and say whatever she wants about it."

What were your musical influences for the LP? Who were you listening to around the time of writing it?

Libby: "The movie Hole."

Virginia: "Definitely second Hole.  Pretty sure I had also started descending into my first Cheap Queen deep dive at the time." 

Sierra: "I was photosynthesizing in a Placebo hole that I have yet to claw myself out of. And also a lot of Blaenavon. Every answer must include the word “hole.”"

Vera: "Holy moly mother Mary, literally holes what we dug and sat in."

Please talk us through your songwriting/creative process for Androgynous Mary.

Sierra: "On the third try, we successfully meet in the center of a dark room, under the disco ball. We scream in anguish into assorted jars and shake them violently until we can’t deny the brilliance of the sound contained therein."

What do you hope fans/listeners will take from the album?

Vera: "I just want people to be weird and feel ok about that."

Virginia: "I hope it’s as satisfying as eating a home cooked meal with your chosen family."

Sierra: "I hope they can listen to it on repeat for an extended period of time and feel like they are being held by a loving entity who is just as confused as they are."

Libby: "I hope they like me."

Were there any other songs written during this period that didn’t make it onto the album, and if so, will you revisit them again in the future?

Virginia: "Wouldn’t you like to know..."

Sierra: "We have a staggering and comical number of voice memos that, and I promise you will thank us for this, will likely never emerge from their technological encasings."

Libby: "Nah."

Which new artists/bands are you listening to right now? Anyone you think we should be checking out?

Libby: "Kills Birds, Ulrika Spacek."

Virginia: "Mod Pods, Suzie True, Cry Babe, Hot Moms, Genevieve Artadi."

Sierra: "Hayley Williams’s Petals for Armor. And my brother is about to release an album with our friend Brian that he’s put so much love and work into, and the entire universe needs to hear it! It’s called Silo by The Altogether. (Disclaimer: I am on it, but I can assure you I’ve contributed very little to its perfection)."

Vera: "At the moment I can only listen to this one album by Brian Eno and John Cale, Jesus is King by Kanye, Gracie Fields and Nina Simone."

If there was one thing you could change about the music world today, what would it be?

Libby: "More Trans A&Rs. More Black A&Rs, More POC A&Rs. More accountability in safe spaces."

Virginia: "More safe music venues open to minors!"

Sierra: "Fair pay for artists too."

Vera: "Agreed with all. And yes we really need the unionization of musicians and artists and understanding our value in society. Because it is labor and the fact we ‘love to do it’ is really exploited. Going off Libby's point, I think we need to acknowledge the major influence that music created and invented by BIPOC has had and continues to have in genres (including rock) where the main profiteers today are white men. We got to dismantle that."

What challenges, if any, have you faced in the music industry? And how did you overcome them?

Sierra: "We’ve been really lucky overall in terms of the people we’ve worked with, but we have gotten some not-so-sexy commentary from people assuming our genders and what that means about the music we’re able to make. We rename them all “Chris,” quietly hex them, and move on with our lives."

Finally, what do you have planned for when we're back to some sort of normality? I expect you're excited to get out on the road to tour the album following its release and when it is safe to do so?

Sierra: "You are absolutely right about that. Other than fantasizing about future tours, I’m taking it one day at a time."

Vera: "I don’t think there is a return to ‘normalcy’, but honestly if normalcy is Trumps America with a complacent public where cops intimidate and murder and money takes precedent over life, I don’t want to go back to that anyway. Let’s keep pushing forward."

Androgynous Mary is out August 21.

Photo credit: Al Kalyk

[magicmanias]

Sparks

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You were found in the ruins of the city of Sokovia when Ultron attacked—a helpless, thrown out HYDRA experiment that was left to die. The Avengers take you in and love you as if they were your own. And though you love your family, a certain sophomore at Midtown High lit the real sparks within you.

Warnings: Minor Angst in the beginning, Fluff!, so. much. fluff.

Word Count: 6.5k (this was way longer than I intended it to be)

A/N: Sorry for the long exposition, but I feel like it makes it all worth it when Peter and Y/N meet. And I didn’t heavily edit it, so I’m sorry for that.

AU where Tony discovers Peter earlier, Civil War happens but all is forgiven, and Homecoming has not happened.

There were loud booms and crashes in the distance. Flurries of terrified strangers ran past you. You didn’t know anything. Any of this. You placed your hands over your ears and closed your eyes shut. The screams. You couldn’t take the screams. You ignored the blood on your bare feet that began to run onto the dirt ground. Where were you? Where was your commander? You needed orders. Tears started to stream down your face.

“Hey Cap?” Tony flew down from the sky and landed on the once floating city of Sokovia. In the chaos amongst the terrified civilians, there was a girl. She couldn’t be more than fourteen. She looked normal—except for the red and yellow sparks that flew around her. Surrounding bits of debris floated around the girl, who appeared to be in agony as she sobbed on the ground. “I think I found something.”

—

“Hey, could I… ask you your name?” A tall, blond man in a blue suit sat down calmly in front of you. You backed away from him and cowered in the corner of your containment cell.

“Well, my name is Steve.” He reached his hand out. You refused to touch it. “We're here to help you.”

“Where's Mr. Strucker?” you whimpered. “He's my commander.”

“I-I um…” The man named Steve crunched down to your height. “Do you have a name?”

“I'm Soldier #82467. Experiment XIV,” you repeat what you were always referred to as. You were a number, not a name.

“How long has Mr. Strucker been your commander?” Steve asked you calmly.

Maybe this man could help you find your commander. Or was he the plague of the earth, as your commander always told you about? “My whole life. 14 years.”

“Do you know your birthday?” Steve continued.

You shook your head. You didn't know why that was important.

“I think we can give you a name. If you want one,” Steve said, with a small smile. You couldn't tell if it was genuine or not.  “Would you like a name?”

You slowly nodded your head. A name would be better than a number.

“Let's see what we can do.”

—

“Miss, could you sit here, please?” Bruce asked you. That's what Steve said his name was. It was strange to be on a first name basis with these men.

They were very odd. They weren't… intense like the men back home. They smiled a lot more too.

Bruce placed many strange items on you, similar to the doctors back at the base. The tools he used were cold, but you were used to being cold.

“Breath in, and out,” he said. Another man came into the room. He seemed older than the man who questioned you, Steve.

“Tony,” Steve approached Tony. “Did you get the results?”

“Yeah, Capsicle. She's definitely enhanced.”

“So what did Wanda say?” Bruce asked.

“She didn't know about her. They must have placed her away from the twins,” Tony answered. “And Nat is seeing if she can pull up anything on a Soldier—”

“Don't call her that,” Steve interrupted. He looked back at you. “We don't know her name yet, but she's a kid, Tony. Not a soldier.”

“Well, Nat is seeing if she can pull anything up on her in the old files that were recovered from SHIELD.” Tony cleared his voice and muttered a small, but sincere ‘sorry.’

The three men directed their attention to you. “Um, do you know what your powers are exactly?”

You hesitated before whispering softly, “That's classified.”

“You can tell us, kid. We're the good guys. The people you used to know, weren't very nice people. And we're trying to fix that,” Tony said, placing a hand on his shoulder in uncertainty. “If you tell us, we can help you control them.”

“They already tried,” you mumbled. “And they couldn't… I killed everyone who tried. I-I didn't mean t-to.”

“Hey, hey. Doll, it's ok,” Steve put a hand on your shoulder. You flinched at his touch. Sparks began to fly around you. Steve quickly moved his hand away and backed up. The sparks faded out.

“I don't w-want to hurt you…”

—

“Nat, what do you have on her?” Steve asked. Nat walked into the living room with a file in her hand.

She placed the file down and opened it up. Inside, there was very little, but enough to give them something.

“She never… had a name,” Natasha explained. “But they did label her. Project Y/N. Maybe we could call her that?”

“It's better than Soldier #82467,” Sam said from the couch.

“I agree,” Steve said. “How come Wanda never knew her?”

“Y/N said she killed everyone who tried to stop her?” Natasha pointed to a paragraph in the file. “They put her in solitary confinement for the past few months.”

“Do you think we can help her?” Clint asked. He always had a place in his heart for kids.

“We already have,” Tony said. He entered the room with Bruce. You trailed behind Bruce meekly.

“Hi, Y/N,” the redhead said. She gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“Is that my name?” you asked her. She nodded. You liked it.

“It's not perfect, but we gave her a cuff that can stop her powers from emerging when she gets stressed.”

“Can she use them otherwise?” Wanda asked. The rest of the Avengers had walked into the room to meet you

“Yeah, with practice I think,” Bruce said.

“What can she do, exactly?” Rhodey asked.

“It appears she gained her abilities from the mind stone as well,” Vision thought aloud. “I believe her powers were given to her recently. Definitely later than Wanda.”

“I've had them for about five months,” you told everyone. “I shoot sparks and I can create heat and fires. And I can move things—without touching them.”

“I know a man who is well versed in the Mystical Arts. His name is Stephen Strange. Perhaps he could help Y/N harness her abilities,” Thor suggested.

“Thor, that's a good—” The alarm blared throughout the tower. It startled you and sparks began to fly around the room. Part of Thor's cape almost set on fire.

“Like I said, it's a work in progress,” Tony yelled over the alarm.

“Suit up, Avengers!” Rhodey called out.

“Hey hey! We should call this chick Sparky!” Sam laughed at his own joke. Everyone glared at him.

You laughed quietly. Yeah, you liked the Avengers.

—

[One Year Later]

A lot had happened in a year: Steve found Bucky, the Avengers met Ant-Man, Wakanda had opened itself to the world, and you were succeeding in your training with Dr. Strange.

Steve and Tony were very protective of you and kind of acted like your dads—you even took Tony’s last name and he and Steve signed on to be your official guardians. Nat and Wanda were like big sisters to you and you told them everything. Bucky, Clint, and Sam were the “cool” uncles that you hung out with to get away with stuff and pull pranks. Rhodey taught you how to drive and told you funny stories about Tony. Scott taught you magic tricks and you were friends with his daughter, Cassie. You often helped Bruce in the lab with his research and he definitely taught you some sciency things. And you always helped Thor out because you were the only one who could help keep Loki under control; he had a soft spot for you. You also liked to help Vision in the kitchen. You made some mean cookies.

“Friday, where's Tony?” you asked, getting up from bed.

“Mr. Stark is on the bottom floor.”

You threw on a pair of loose shorts and a tank top and went downstairs to the foyer.

You walked to the main door to see Tony with a boy. He looked around your age. He had short, brown hair and a matching set of eyes.

“Sparky!” Tony called you over. You rolled your eyes at the nickname. You cannot believe that stuck. Sam sucks so much, you thought.

“Hi, Tony.” The boy looked at you and you returned his gaze with yours. He swallowed deeply. Your eyes widened.

SPARKS. 

Your eyes widened.

“Peter, this is my daughter. Well, technically she’s Steve’s too, but she has my last name, so she’s like 60% my daughter. And drop the staring, Parker. She's off limits.” Tony gripped Peter's shoulder playfully. He blushed, still looking at you.

“Hi, Peter. I'm Y/N,” you squeaked. You smiled nervously at him. You didn't have much contact with people outside of the Avengers and Cassie was really the only person you knew who was close to your age.

“I-I'm Pe— I'm P-Peter. Oh wait, you knew that…” he stuttered. He closed his mouth and bit his lip. You thought it was cute and you lightly giggled.

“I said she's off limits, Parker,” Tony almost growled. You felt the embarrassment rise to your cheeks and suddenly you felt panic. There was something about that kid that threw you off.

“I have to go,” you mumbled quickly before scurrying away.

Peter frowned at your early leave. He gulped. Stupid, Peter thought. God, why can’t you just talk like a normal person?

“She's just a little shy…” Tony sighed. “Y/N doesn’t really know any people around her age. She’s fifteen, like you.”

“I-I didn't know you-you had a daughter,” Peter inquired. He thought you were really pretty and you didn't really look like Tony.

“She's not my actual daughter. I took her in,” Tony paused. “Do you remember Sokovia?”

—

It had been a couple of days since you saw Peter. Even though you ran away from him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You didn’t really understand why and when you went to talk to Nat about it, she just smiled and said that you had a “crush on him.” You didn’t know what that meant though. She said it meant you liked him.

You did like Peter, you didn’t like him the same way you did the Avengers. The Avengers were your family, but he wasn’t like that to you. It was a different kind of like. You regretted running away from Peter before you could really soak up his features. His brown eyes that had looked straight into yours. It made your stomach feel weird but in a good way. His lips were… nice, too.

You decided not to talk to your “dads” about it. It didn’t seem like something a person would ask their father figures about.

Summer was ending. Tony knew it was about time you’d be around people your age. Sure, the Avengers were good company and they were your family, but you needed to make connections on your own. You had lived with them for a year now, and Tony knew you were adjusting to your new life well.  

You needed to go to school.

Of course, he knew you’d be just fine education-wise. Before they gave you powers, you were training to be a spy for HYDRA, so you were given a rich education. Tony and Bruce would often teach you about science and math as well, so you were definitely well off there. Making friends was the challenge—but Tony knew a certain high schooler with spider-powers and a large knowledge on pop culture who could help her out.

“School? Tony, are you sure? She’s barely been here a year. And she doesn’t even have her powers fully under control,” Steve argued. He walked around the kitchen counter to get a mug from the cabinet.

“Yes, I think she’s ready. She’s gotta make some friends, Rogers. And what could go wrong? It’s high school,” Tony shot back. “I just want her to have some friends her age. I mean, we may have to leave her behind one day. This isn’t safe work.” Tony frowned at the thought of leaving Y/N if something were to happen to him. She was his daughter.

“You know she’s just as much mine as she is yours. I get a say in this,” Steve countered. “I mean, I’m just worried for her.”

There was a long moment of silence. Steve looked down at his coffee in contemplation. Tony came closer to him before finally saying, “Do you remember when we found Y/N?” he asked.

“Of course I do,” he answered. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“And do you remember what you said to me when I called her ‘Soldier?’” Tony continued.

Steve realized where Tony was coming from. “I said, ‘She’s just a kid, not a soldier,’” he recited, like lines from a play. Steve sighed. “You’re right.”

“I know I am. We have to give her a chance to have some sort of childhood. Let her go to school,” Tony pleaded. His eyes grew with hope. Steve knew he couldn’t say no.

“Fine, but I want someone to look over her. She doesn’t know how to interact with people her age and I don’t want her to burn the school down,” Steve urged.

“I already have someone. You know the kid that stole your shield?” Tony laughed at the memory. Steve groaned.

“So we’re going to Queens?”

—

Peter had finished making his way around patrolling the streets of Queens as Spider-Man. He didn’t have much action today—just a couple of petty thefts. But for once, he was actually glad about the lack of opportunity. It meant he could swing around, daydreaming about her. Y/N Stark. Damn, she was pretty, he thought. Granted, his turned focus almost caused him to crash into a pole, but it was worth it. He hoped he would be able to see her again. Maybe next time Mr. Stark needed him, she would be there.

Turns out, Mr. Stark needed him right now.

“May?” Peter opened the door and walked into his apartment.

His aunt was on the couch. She turned to face him, “Hey baby. How’s Ned?”

Peter tossed his keys into the bowl next to the door. “Ned? Oh, uh. Ned—Ned is good. He’s fine. Hey, did you see that crazy car outside…?”

Tony Stark and Captain America were here. In his apartment. Two Avengers. At the same time. I mean, Mr. Stark had come by once, but he was here again—with Steve Rogers.

“M-Mr. Stark? Wh-What are you doing here? Uh, Ca-Captain,” Peter stuttered.

“Relax, alright? You should be used to this by now,” Tony said as he sat up from the couch.

“Tony Stark was talking to me about his daughter, Y/N,” May smiled at Peter and walked over to him. She gave him a hug, before quickly retreating. “Honey, you need a shower.”

Peter nodded silently and continued to stare at Steve freaking Rogers.

Steve, who was standing in the corner of the room, also walked over to Peter. He swallowed hard. “Hello, Mr. Parker.”

“Uh, hi-hi, sir.”

“Peter, I’m gonna hand it to you straight. We want Y/N to go to Midtown High,” Tony started. Peter zoned out every word after that. Y/N was going to school with him. He would be able to see her every day.

“Pete? Peter, are you even listening to me?” Tony asked, annoyed. Peter snapped out of his thoughts.

“What? Oh, yes, sir. I-I was listening.”

“Great, I thought you were drooling over my-our daughter,” Tony smirked. Steve glared at Peter.

“So, your Aunt has so graciously allowed Y/N to stay here for the school year,” Steve said, dropping the glare to thank his aunt.

Peter glanced at May, giving her a look of surprise. May smiled overly sweetly at him. Like she knew something he didn’t.

“Yeah, what, with the Avengers moving upstate and all, we wouldn’t be able to drive her down her every day and Midtown is a great school,” Tony added innocently.

Steve’s face darkened as he came closer to Peter. He went full-on dad mode, “Son, we want you to help her out. Now, she’s new to all this, like Stark told you, and we don’t want her to freak out. We’re giving you this responsibility. Do you think you can handle it?”

Peter nodded vigorously, “Yes. Yes, sir, Captain America. Yeah.”

“See? What’d I tell you, Rogers? He’s a good kid. He’ll watch after her,” Tony cheerfully patted a frowning Steve.

Tony turned back to Peter and his face too, darkened for a moment. Peter almost didn’t catch it. “No funny business, okay? We don’t want grandkids just yet.”

Peter blushed bright red. “Nope, no funny business. Got it.”

And with that, the two men exited the small apartment after thanking his aunt one last time.

May closed the door behind them and faced Peter. She smiled wickedly, “So, is she cute?”

“Wh-What?” Peter half-laughed to cover up his blush. “N-No, no. Well, I mean she’s not—not pretty, well I mean she’s beautiful, but not in a weird way! I-I mean. Wait, like she-she—”

“Okay, okay, baby. I get it. You love her.” May left him to process and walked into the kitchen.

“What? Wait—May!”

—

You looked out of the window of the car. You’d never been this far out into New York before. “Happy, are we there yet?”

“No, not yet,” he answered bluntly.

“Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers are calling you, Miss,” Friday announced. You answered the call and your dads came onto the holo-screen.

“Hi, doll,” Steve waved at you. “How’s it going?”

“Well, the traffic is pretty bad, but we’re almost there,” Happy answered for you.

“Happy, what did I tell you about answering someone else’s questions?” Tony snapped at him.

“If someone calls me honey, sweetheart, or doll, it’s not for me,” Happy repeated.

“Anyways, we want you to know that Peter is a good kid, okay? He’ll help you around school. You have all the same classes as him, except one. So, he can show you around the school and help you make friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” you tried you sound annoyed, but you were teeming with excitement.

“If he tries anything, you tell us so I can—”

You interrupted Steve, “Hey hey hey, I get it. I get it. You know, you should warm up to him, dad.”

“I know, I just—” Steve sighed. “I just want you to be safe, baby.”

“I love you, dad. I love you, other dad,” you said, waving goodbye to them.

“Wait, am I ‘other dad?’ Y/N—” You hung up before Tony could finish.

Finally, you arrived at Peter’s apartment. Happy walked you up and left your bags with you, before leaving.

You hesitated to knock. Your hands shook with anxiety. You took a deep breath and slowly knocked.

A woman opened the door.

“Hey, you must be Y/N. I’m Peter’s aunt. You can call me May,” she told you. She shook your hand gently. “Let me help with your bags, honey.”

“Oh ok. Thanks, May.” You walked into the apartment and looked around. It was small, but it felt homey.

May placed your bags down near the couch and walked into the kitchen. “Oh sorry. Peter’s not here right now. He’ll be back tonight.” You nodded and sat at the dinner table. You were slightly disappointed, but still, you would see him tonight.

“I just ordered some pizza, so if you’re hungry, you can eat that,” May reminded.

Later, May had to run out for work but promised that Peter would be there soon. She already set up a small mattress for you next to the couch and taught you how to use the shower. So, you sat and waited for Peter to come while you ate a piece of pizza.

After two slices, you already felt pretty full, so you threw the plate into the sink, and got ready to take a shower.

—

Peter swung from the building across his apartment. He landed quietly on the fire escape in front of his room. Crime fighting took a little longer than expected today.

He felt pretty beat up on his side. Luckily, May wouldn't be able to see the damage there. It was definitely going to bruise.

He peeked inside the apartment to check if May was there. He heard the water running and assumed she was in the shower.

He crept into his room and slowly closed the door. He took his suit off and let it fall to the floor. Before he changed, he checked out his side. Yep, it was definitely going to bruise. It looked like someone colored his entire right side with a purple magic marker.

He slowly picked up his suit and winced at the pain of bending down. He had to stand still for a moment to bear the pain.

The door suddenly opened. In a panic, Peter threw his suit into his closet. It was Y/N, with nothing but a flimsy towel covering herself. And he was in nothing but his boxers. 

“Oh, sorry!” you squeaked out. Were you supposed to leave? Did you want to leave? “I-I just heard noise s-so I thought I wouldn't make s-sure N-no one broke in or-or some-something.”

You blushed at the sight of his half-naked body. There went that feeling again. The one that felt weird but amazing all at the same time.

“I-It's Okay. I thought you were May. God, I'm so stupid. I thought you weren't coming u-until later! And I-I just got home so I figured I'd change and…” If Peter was panicking before, he didn't know what this was. His cheeks burned. You looked really hot. Even though your hair was wet and you were wrapped in a towel, you were still really pretty. He once again realized he was in his boxers and tried to shift certain parts.

Suddenly, you realized you were staring at his body and quickly retreated, “I should go.” You turned on your heel and headed for the door.

When he heard the door close, Peter quietly groaned and collapsed onto his bed.

“Why can't anything go right? It's only day one and you're already messing up,” he mumbled into his pillow.

Slowly, he sat back up and ran a hand through his hair and over his face. “Mr. Stark said, ‘No funny business, Peter.’ So no funny business, ok? She's… just your roommate/friend… Your super pretty roommate.”

—

School didn't start for another week, so it gave you a chance to get to know Peter.

At first, he avoided you like the plague. You tried to get to know the boy, but he always made an excuse to leave. It upset you. You had started to think he didn’t like you the way you liked him.

But eventually, he warmed up and started to speak to you, and… smile. He had a nice smile. It made your cheeks hot and the fluttery feeling would come back.

He made you laugh, more than Clint or even Sam. He showed you a bunch of new things too: memes, vines, old movies (you liked Star Wars a lot), and The Office.

You met his friends, Ned and MJ. They were really nice to you. MJ even drew a picture of you. You were “hanging out,” as Peter called it, with them and at one point you had stepped out to go to the bathroom. When you came back, you overheard them telling Peter something that he strongly denied.

“No! I don’t. She… doesn’t like me like that,” Peter argued.

“Yes! She totally does. And you do too,” Ned pushed.

“Dude, you’re a bad liar,” MJ scoffed.

School started the next day and Peter suggested a good distraction for your anxious nerves. Tonight, you were watching Alien. And though you used to live in a place full of nothing of fear, you were still scared. Come on! The alien ate people!! It was freaky.

After a long stretch of silence, the alien popped out of nowhere and started to chase the people in the movie.

“Ah!” you yelped. You jumped and dug your face into Peter’s chest. He was just glad you couldn’t see his face. He was so flustered, he forgot how to breathe.

Finally, he managed to croak out, “A-Are you scared?”

“A little,” you whimpered. “I thought this was supposed to be a comedy.”

“I told you it was scary, Y/N,” he laughed. You continued to hide your face in his chest. Carefully, he placed his hand on your hair and began to pet it to calm you down.

A couple of sparks flew around you and Peter noticed it. “Hey, hey. It’s ok, Y/N. We can watch something else if you want. I don’t mind.”

Slowly, you lifted your head to meet your eyes with his. Your face was really close to his. Peter stared back at you in uncertainty. His eyes dilated and his mouth was tight-lipped. Your heart thumped in your chest and you felt the urge to close the small space in between you. You knew what a crush was now.

Suddenly, the door flew open. Peter jumped away from you and you sat back in your spot. It was May.

“What’re you two doing?” she asked.

“We were watching a movie,” Peter explained quickly.

“Really? It seemed like something else,” she chuckled.

“No! It wasn’t anything!” Peter yelled and retreated into the kitchen.

“What does she mean?” you asked, puzzled.

“Well—”

“No! Nothing, it’s nothing, Y/N,” Peter interrupted his aunt from the fridge.

“Ok, well I guess I’ll just let you two finish,” May said nonchalantly. She turned to Peter, “Don’t have too much fun, baby. You know what Mr. Rogers said.”

“I know! I know, May,” Peter sighed. Oh, that’s what she meant, you thought.

“I’m going to go to bed,” you blurted. Peter looked up at you from the fridge.

He frowned. “Oh ok, that’s fine. Um, I’ll turn the TV off.”

He switched the TV off and turned to his room. Before he went in, he turned to you and softly said, “Night, Y/N.”

“Night, Petey.” He gave you a small smile and entered his room.

—

You took a shower and changed into a thin white t-shirt and sweatpants. You tried to sleep, but your nerves got the better of you. You were really nervous.

After several hours, you gave up and crept into Peter’s room. “Peter?” you whispered softly. No answer.

“Peter,” you tried again as you closed the door and approached his bed. He looked really peaceful asleep. You hated to wake him up, but you needed to see his big, brown eyes again.

You slightly shook him until he woke up.

“Huh? What? Y/N?” Peter rubbed his tired eyes and sat up. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Like two. I couldn’t sleep,” you told him. You played with the hem of your shirt nervously. “I-I’m nervous about school.”

“Hey, it’s ok. School isn’t so bad. Kids’ll like you,” he assured. You placed your head on his shoulder and pouted.

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never gone to school before. I don’t know what to do,” you fretted.

“It’s easy,” he said. “I’ll help you out. You know, with finding your classes, homework, checking out books, all that.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. You hesitated before saying, “Can I sleep here?” Peter could barely hear you.

“What?”

“Can I sleep here? Just tonight?”

“Um, yeah. Sure,” he breathed. Peter knew it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but he wanted to be near you just as much as you wanted to be near him. Mr. Stark’s gonna kill me, but it’s worth it, he thought.

You climbed into bed with him and nuzzled into his body. He was warm.

“Night, Petey,” you yawned. You closed your eyes and you were out like a light. Peter, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep anymore. You were so close to him. You were sleeping right next to him. You were touching him.

Peter thought about you for the rest of the night. Not only were you beautiful, but you were smart, nice, funny, and dorky. He loved every bit of you. He knew there were sparks the first time he met you and with each minute, his affections only grew.

He dreaded the morning to come when you would both have to get up.

—

School wasn’t so bad. You had all your periods with Peter, except fourth period. So, you had some time to cope with that.

First period AP European History was fun. You liked learning about the history of Europe. You would often glance over at Peter and sometimes he would glance at you. You don’t even remember what the teacher said the homework was because you were too busy focusing on the piece of hair that stuck out on Peter’s head.

Second period Honors Humanities was too easy. You already read most of the literature the teacher said you were going to read. Lord of the Flies, Macbeth, The Odyssey, The Great Gatsby, Great Expectations. Done and done.

Third period Honors Pre-calc was incredibly boring. You already knew stuff like that up to the math of radioactive gamma rays and neutron stars. So, you spent the whole period messing with Peter using your powers. You rolled his pencil across his desk and untied his shoelace. He rolled his eyes playfully at you and made an ‘I’m going to get you back’ face at you.

Fourth period was when you had to leave Peter. He was in Spanish 5 while you were in AP French. Your fear subsided, however. You had grown used to other kids and French was easy. After all, you already knew that amongst seven other languages fluently. So it was a breeze.

Trying to find Peter at lunch was difficult and you tried to focus on controlling your stress so sparks wouldn’t fly everywhere. After about ten minutes of wandering around the school trying to find the cafeteria, you finally bumped into Ned and MJ, who led you to Peter. You opened your lunch to find a note that Tony had slipped into it somehow.

We love you, baby. -TS and SR

You smiled at the small note. You looked over at Peter to see him chewing on a PB&J sandwich. He was so cute.

“Subtle,” MJ whispered to you.

“What do you mean?” you asked nervously.

“Don’t worry. He likes you too. Trust me,” she winked at you. He liked you too?

After lunch, you departed from Ned and MJ and walked to PE. You were in deep thought the entire time. Peter liked you?

Finally, you made it to the gym. The teacher just let you do whatever you wanted for the first day, so Peter asked if you wanted to walk around with him, which you quickly agreed to.

“So, how was French?” he started.

“Facile,” you answered, smiling.

“Easy?” he asked. You nodded. A gust of wind flew towards you and you shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“Um, a little. But I’ll be fine,” you said. You brought your arms up to hug yourself for warmth.

“Here,” Peter slid his sweatshirt off. “Take this.”

You blushed. “No, it’s fine. Then you’ll be cold.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Take it,” he assured. Hesitantly, you took the sweatshirt and slipped it over your body. It smelled like him.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. There was Peter’s smile again.

After gym, you had AP Chem. Once again, easy A. For you and Peter. You guys even got to be lab partners. You messed around with each other while the teacher talked out how H2O and O2 yielded H2O2.

Finally, the day was over and you sat next to Peter on the bus. Ned allowed it. He sat with MJ. You were still wearing Peter’s sweatshirt and embraced the warmth it gave you. 

—

Later, you were finishing up chem homework, when you heard a crash in Peter’s room. You ran in to see Peter in a red suit. He slid his mask off to reveal cuts and bruises all over his face.

“Oh my God, Peter what happened? What are you doing?” you sat him on the bed and examined his wounds.

“I-I was um…”

“Are you that Spider-Man guy?” you questioned him, shocked. “Is that why you were at Avengers Tower the other day with my dad?”

“Yeah,” he winced when you touched one of his cuts. You muttered a small ‘sorry.’

“Oh my god. My dad never told me,” you gasped.

“Yeah, he didn’t want you to know. I’m so screwed,” Peter said through gritted teeth.

“Let me help you, Pete. Should I—Should I get May?” you asked.

“No, May doesn’t know.”

“She doesn’t? Oh ok, well um… Do you have a first aid kit?” you asked in a panic. He was pretty beat up.

“Yeah, under the sink in the bathroom.” He lied on the bed and groaned.

You got the kit from the bathroom and proceeded to clean the cuts on his face.

“Ok, we’re done with your face,” you said, placing the cotton ball down. “Now take off your suit.”

“No, it’s ok. I got it, Y/N.”

“Peter, it’s fine. I got it,” you urged. You gave him your best puppy dog face and he couldn’t resist.

“Fine.” He slipped his suit off and looked away from you. You tried to ignore his toned chest and stomach and placed bandage wrap on his torso.

“Got beat up pretty bad, huh? Tough bad guys?” you asked to distract him.

“Uh not really. I got kind of distracted,” he laughed. Your hand slipped and he hissed in pain.

“Sorry, uh go on.”

“I um…” If you’re going to tell her, I guess now would be the time, he thought. “I was thinking about you,” he continued.

You dropped the wrap and opened your mouth slightly in shock. “What do you mean?”

“Well—”

“Kids, I’m home!” May opened the door. Yours and Peter’s eyes widened. He threw his suit out of sight and quickly slipped on some clothes.

May entered the room. “Pete, what happened to your face?”

“He fell!” you blurted out. “We were running during gym and he slid face-first onto the floor.”

You and Peter laughed nervously. “Yeah, I uh, fell.”

“Ok, be more careful baby,” May closed the door.

—

You ate dinner in awkward silence with May and Peter. You stared at your food the entire time. Peter glanced every now and again at you, but you refused to make eye contact with him. Did you not like him back? Great, he thought.

Peter laid in his bed wide awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and how he had completely screwed up your friendship. He needed to fix this. He got up from bed and walked into the living room.

He saw you, still in his sweatshirt, sleeping. He tripped over the couch and fell onto it.

“Oof!” You quickly sat up at the noise and sent sparks through your hands.

“It’s me! It’s just me!” Peter whispered loudly. You lowered your hand and sighed.

“Peter you scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-I um…”

“Peter… do you… like me?” you closed your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“I-I uh…” Peter blushed for probably the hundredth time this week.

You frowned. “I get it if you don’t.”

“What? No, Y/N I do like you! I like you a lot. Ever since I first met you actually. Even though you ran away and all but—”

“I like you too,” you smiled widely.

“I didn’t tell you because your dads said I couldn’t be with you,” Peter pouted at your fathers’s warnings.

“I don’t care what they say. I want you,” you whispered.

“I want you too.”

Your faces were really close. You were unsure of what to do next, but before you could decide, Peter closed the distance between the two of you.

Wanda had told you what kissing was but you never expected it to be this great.

His lips were soft and moved carefully as if he was scared of rejection. You pushed back a little and placed your hands on his face. He wrapped his arms around your waist and deepened the kiss.

Peter never wanted it to stop. He quickly ended it for a breath of air but crashed his lips back onto yours. His hands moved up your waist and into your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck in reply.

“Go out with me,” he said, releasing you from his grasp.

“Like-Like on a date?”

“Yeah, we could go out and eat dinner and take a walk around Central Park or Coney Island and ride the Ferris Wheel or—”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“R-Really?” Peter was surprised you agreed.

You nodded in reply and kissed him again.

—

On Saturday, Happy drove you and Peter to the Avengers complex to visit. The Avengers greeted the both of you.

“Man of Spiders! Lady Y/N. It is wonderful to see you both,” Thor greeted.

“Sparky, eh how’s it going?” Sam asked.

“Hello, guys!” Wanda waved at you both.

You greeted all of the Avengers and lastly your dads.

“Hi, peanut. How was school?” Tony asked, giving you a hug.

“It was great. Peter really helped and he introduced me to his friends.

“Oh, that’s awesome, sweetheart.” Tony let go and turned to Peter.

“Peter, did you go a good job?”

Peter swallowed. “Uh, yeah. I-I think so,” he sputtered nervously. You hadn’t told them you were dating yet. Only MJ, Ned, and May knew.

“You think so?” Steve questioned.

“I mean, yeah—yes, sir. I think so…”

“Dad, lay off, will you?” You pushed against his chest to get him to back away from Peter.

Nat came up to you to give you a hug, but before she did, she stared at you for a long moment before yelling out, “You kissed Peter, didn’t you?”

“Wh-What? No, I didn’t,” You were bright red. Shit, shit, shit.

“What?!” Tony and Steve yelled simultaneously. They stared at Peter.

“Parker, what was the one thing I told you not to do?!” Tony yelled.

“Uh, n-not to-to—”

“Not to hook up with our daughter!” Steve finished.

“But I—”

“You what!?” Tony screamed. “You did it anyway. I trusted you, Peter”

“I called you son…” Steve growled.

“Hey!” you yelled over the chaos. “I like him, ok? And he’s a nice guy. Come on, guys. Let him be.”

“But-But he—” Tony tried to defend.

“But nothing! He likes me and he’s nice and smart and he makes me laugh, ok? He’s good. You like him, don’t you?” You gave them your puppy dog sad face.

Steve and Tony softened. “Ok, fine,” Steve raised his arms in defeat. “But I’m watching you son.”

“Yes-Yes, sir,” Peter stuttered.

“But don’t kiss each other in front of me please,” Bucky added.

In spite, you smirked and pulled Peter to you by his shirt and gave him a quick peck.

Everyone groaned.

“My eyes!” Clint yelled.

“Oh boy,” Bruce turned to the face the other direction.

“Aw,” Wanda clasped her hands to her chest.

“Just—Just fucking… kill me,” Tony said.

You leaned over to Peter, who was sweating nervously at Steve, who glared at him angrily. “I think they like you.”

—

Tag List: @kitphi @loxbbg @weasleyisourjedi @sunnynightt @starlightfound @dennasaur @saturn-aka-six @peter-spider-parker-man @imbumkyung @thegloryofliterature @queenmadness @emilymarie0422 @tegan-eva @babebenhardy

[romancingromanoff]

12 Days of Domestic Avengers Fluff (Day 2)

Day 1 here

This one is a continuation of day 1′s story but not all of the 12 days will be related to one another ;)

The next day

“Ok I’ll wrap, you write out the cards.”

“You really think that’s a good idea, Buck? Remember what happened last year,” Steve frowned, switching over all of his shopping bags from one hand to the other so that he could tap his buddy’s metal arm. 

“Fair enough.”

The two had just gotten back from gift shopping and were just about to settle in for the evening when voice popped up over the security screen at the front door. 

“Steve? Bucky?” Clint’s image was projected in front of them.

“Yup. Can you let us in, Barton?” Bucky waved.

“Yeah, uh, about that,” Natasha chimed in as she slid into frame, pushing the archer aside. “We’re pretty sure that Y/N has bombed the elevator shaft.”

"With what? Stink bombs?” Bucky chuckled in approval only to be silenced by a very serious Steve nudging his elbow into his ribcage with a shopping bag.

“No,” Natasha spoke gravely and in all seriousness. “We’re pretty sure she’s rigged the whole thing with actual heavy duty explosives.”

“Natasha, is this a code 52?” Steve tensed, ready to drop all of their bags in an instant if an emergency had broken out at their base. He wasn’t exactly all that excited to slip back into work while they were all on holiday break but if it was necessary he wouldn’t hesitate.

“No, it’s not that,” Clint took control over the screen again. “It’s just that in the movie Die Hard there’s a scene where-”

“We’ll just take the stairs then,” Bucky impatiently began to charge in through the entrance and head through the staircase. 

“Wait, Tony’s probably iced all the steps in the building. Isn’t that what they did in Home Alone?” Clint quickly tried to stop him but conferred with Natasha. She had hung around Tony a little bit the night before while he was watching the Christmas classic and its sequels. 

“Yeah, stairs are a no go fellas.”

“I’m sure a little bit of ice won’t be any trouble for us, Romanoff,” Bucky rolled his eyes and continued pressing on while a slightly uncertain Steve followed on behind him towards the stairs. Sure enough, the two guys hit a stale dry wall of freezing cold when they opened the door to the stairwell and found that the temperature had dropped way below what they usually had the thermostat on. 

“Woah, careful,” Steve held back his friend by the shoulder when he noticed that Tony had indeed slicked down all the steps with a fresh layer of water which had frozen in the cold. “You think all of these are like this?”

“Just lean against the railings. It’s not that bad.” 

The two began the trek upwards with all of their bulky bags cradled in their arms in front of them so that their view was slightly blocked. Unfortunately for them, this was almost just too perfect for the paint-can-holding-menace watching them from a floor above. They quite literally did not see them coming as Tony swung them down from the ropes they hung from.

“SHIT!” Bucky was the first to feel the impact from what felt like bus being thrown at his face and he released his arms trying to grab onto something to keep him from falling backwards. For a moment, Steve struggled to keep him balanced up against him in his pile of bags but then the other paint can came flying down. 

The wind was practically knocked out of Buck who failed to scream that another one was headed down their way and so all he could do was sheepishly duck in Steve’s arms and let his so-called best friend take the second blow. The pair completely faltered and went flying onto their backs down the stairs completely stunned and unable to figure out what had just hit them.

“Were those paint cans?” Bucky breathed in a raspy voice when the two were eventually able to start getting up. The two didn’t even have time to asses the damage to their gifts and had barely started picking up all of their stuff from the ground when the stairwell door behind them swung open like it was being kicked down.

There stood Y/N. Armed and loaded. “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.”

All hell broke loose as Y/N carelessly unleashed a round of rubber bullets at Steve and Bucky who scrambled on ice to get out of the way and find cover.

“IS THIS SERIOUSLY HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?” Bucky cried in fear as he clung onto a thick cashmere blanket they had just bought for Pepper’s holiday gift. 

“Merry Christmas ya filthy animals!” Tony shouted from up above as the shooting eventually died down leaving Y/N laughing hysterically from the doorway. 

A story above the ensuing chaos Clint and Nat couldn’t seem to turn their eyes away from the security cameras’s live stream. They sat in a horrified silence expecting the other person to get up and do something until Clint finally spoke up and said exactly what was on Natasha’s mind. 

“We have to record this footage.”

“Definitely.”