#ideally this takes place over about three years between 'right after steve came out of the ice' and 'shortly before shieldra'

[words-writ-in-starlight]

I read your Steve and Logan bits and they are amazing. But consider this; Steve learns that Logan, who's older than WW1, has lost his memories. He gives a statement in an interview describing this man, this patriot who always looked after other people in his own gruff way, describes his side-burns, his claws, his cigars. And suddenly, people are calling into the station; "Yeah, think I met this guy a few years ago" "My granddad has this photo..." "So, In this bar one time..."

And all these people call in, sharing their own memories of this mysterious Cryptid named Logan who is apparently an immortal, grumpy, wandering dad-friend who's also a patriot and he helped punch out Nazi's and free camps and beats up assholes who don't respect women. And the whole while Logan is watching this from a TV screen with Kitty or Rogue holding his hand so gently, after they dragged him to the couch in a hurry. "You recording this?" "Don't worry, we won't let you miss a single word."

Okay but if we’re gonna do this we’re gonna do this HARDCORE HISTORIAN STYLE, and it initially comes up while Steve is being interviewed for a book about the Howling Commandos or a bit for the History Channel or something.  Because this person is like “Hey, there are a bunch of stories of you showing up somewhere with only one dude for backup, was that Bucky?”  And we’ll assume that this is before the whole Winter Soldier thing, so that’s not a hideously loaded question.  

And Steve kind of laughs and he’s like, “Oh, wow, God, that was actually this dude on detached duty from the Canadian special forces, he and I got sent on a bunch of missions together.  His name was Logan, he was the weirdest guy I ever met, and I knew some pretty weird guys, but he could take a hit even better than I could, so when the Howlies were laid up, they sent us out together.”  And he launches into this story about how one time he and Logan stole a plane complete with pilot and stormed a prison camp that was holding German Jews before sending them up to Poland, and the historian he’s talking to is taking frantic notes and trying not to drool because THIS IS A NEW GUY.  CAPTAIN AMERICA’S STORY IS METICULOUSLY WELL DOCUMENTED BUT NO ONE’S EVER MENTIONED THIS GUY.

There are no pictures, obviously, so Steve does a sketch for this historian, because he’s helpful like that and also because.  Like.  Listen.  Steve’s been through a lot of weird shit, and to be sure this Logan he used to know could take a bullet and keep coming no problem, but this dude’s probably been dead fifty or sixty years.  No harm in giving him a little posthumous glory, right?

So this historian runs back to her university and starts doing research on the Internet.  She reaches out to her coworkers first, then to anyone else she knows, then to the premier WWII and Captain America scholars of the world, and asks all of them “Do you happen to know who the fuck this dude is?”

And like, no, they don’t.  They’ve got no idea.  Steve’s not even totally sure what the guy’s real last name was, because Jameson is common as hell and there’s no Logan Jameson on the books.  So they start doing research into this WWII cryptid, and finally they reach an old woman who listens to her grandson’s boyfriend talk passionately about this new project he’s working on and goes “Oh, yeah, I met Cap in Germany one time, there was a guy with him who sounds kind of like what you’re talking about.”

This passionate history major immediately sends an email in all caps to his adviser and it just says “MY BOYFRIEND’S GRANNY KNOWS WHO WE’RE TALKING ABOUT PLEASE COME TO KANSAS ASAP THANKS” or whatever, because, listen, historians are Like That.  Speaking as someone who could easily have claimed to be a history major based on my thesis, I would have gone to Kansas in 0.2 seconds if someone had been like “What’s up we found that book you were after but we can’t take it out of the museum.”  It does stuff to you.  Trust me here.

So this woman tells the story of how Cap and his weird buddy broke her and her mother and father out of a temporary prison camp, and this history professor immediately takes all the tiny bits of information and starts asking around, looking for literally anyone else who knows this Logan dude.  He saved your ass one time in Paris?  He gave you some rations in Berlin?  He beat your grandfather’s ass in Russia?  He took three bullets for you?  You had a passing conversation?  This historian and his extremely pumped undergrad who just changed his senior thesis want to hear about it.

And then someone gets in touch with them and is like “Hey, I know you’re looking for WWII stories, but this guy saved my dad’s entire unit on the Somme and I have pictures?”  And someone else is like “Hey, I have a file from a Vietnam MASH unit for a Logan who looks like that guy, do you want it?”  And someone else is like “Uh, fuck all of y’all, I think this is him in the Civil War, what do I do about that?”

AND SO BEGINS LOGAN, THE HISTORICAL CRYPTID.

This undergrad is taking an extra year of college and basically getting a Bachelor’s degree in Tracking Weird Mutants Through History, and also his adviser is very lucky to be on tenure, because otherwise he would have been laughed out of the college three times by now.  But there is an absolute preponderance of evidence, is the thing, so it just turns into this massive quest to investigate exactly whether or not Logan the Mystery Dude was actually in China for the Boxer Rebellion or whatever.

Forget this being a collaborative effort between colleges, there are multiple continents involved in this by now.  Canadian government is under pressure to turn out their WWII special operations files for this guy from five different big name universities in five different countries, including their own.  Things are getting a little wild in academia.  Steve’s been interviewed nine times and he has a filter set up in his email specifically to catch stuff from the University of Toronto.

It takes a little bit for Kitty’s bubbe to get a phone call.  Kitty’s bubbe has been living a quiet-ass life in Illinois and likes it that way, especially because her last name is not Pryde and therefore Kitty and her weird friends can crash at Bubbe’s house whenever they’re in the area without any trouble.  It’s fine if her granddaughter wants to run around in spandex and save the world and shit, she’s honestly much more chill about it than Kitty’s parents, but Bubbe does not care for news crews in her neighborhood thank you very much.

But so eventually this nice old Ashkenazi woman gets a phone call from an extremely pumped undergrad who read a very brief statement she gave in a news article forty years ago about Captain America, who she is very grateful to for breaking her, her older sister, and their little brother out of a prison camp during WWII and also helping them get across the border.  Did she happen to see anyone else?  Why yes, very polite young man, the Captain had another man with him, he was very grumpy but he let my brother ride on his shoulders so I liked him very much.  That’s great, would she mind if someone came and talked to her about that?  No, very polite young man, not at all, when would work for you?

And she gives Kitty a call that night, because she gives Kitty a weekly call since Kitty and her parents are going through a rough spot to the tune of “please God stop risking your life//listen I’m saving people I’m not going to stop learn to cope”.  Bubbe mentions offhand that she’s going to have a talk with this very polite young historian about the Shoah and Kitty’s understandably a little concerned for her bubbe’s mental health, and asks some questions.  

So Kitty hears her bubbe out in increasing degrees of shock, hangs up the phone, and immediately goes and does an extensive google.

Then she goes and hammers on Logan’s door until he says to come in, slams her computer down in front of him, and says “Holy shit, Logan, why didn’t you tell us that you knew Captain America?”

“Uh, because I mostly didn’t,” Logan says, wary.  “Don’t remember that much.”

“You might want to take a look at this, then,” Kitty says, and Logan looks through her fifteen tabs and thanks her and calls the university that seems best informed.

Which is the story of how an extremely pumped undergrad gets a phone call from the object of his thesis that opens with “This is gonna sound pretty fuckin’ wild, but my name is Logan and I’m pretty sure you can catch me up on the last hundred years better than I can.”

Oh, and then Logan and Steve meet up again and it’s very nice and sweet and that undergrad gets a full ride to the PhD program of his choice.  The full ride’s name is actually Tony Stark, who’s doing a favor for Steve, who’s doing a favor for Logan, who’s secretly doing a favor for the undergrad, but no one really knows that.

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Three

chapter two - Chapter Three: Ceasefire - chapter four

Series Masterlist

Plot: Bucky, Sam and Y/n visit Baltimore and unearth a long kept, heartbreaking secret. Bucky and Y/n’s tension comes to a head when they meet with Dr. Raynor.

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: spoilers for episode. 2, angst, language, racial undertones, racial profiling, PTSD, mention of torture, mention of suicide, fluffy angst, Walker is an asshole and Y/n is a bad bitch, the start of the slow burn 🔥

A/N: This shit was heavy to write because of the subject matter so hopefully the fluff towards the end makes up for all the angst I’m about to put you through lol. Honestly, it’s so hard to write this series not having the ending of the show yet 😂 Like I’m trying to build this and I know where I need it to go but it all depends on the show. This week’s episode was 👀 and I’m already drafting in my head. Anyways, enjoy!

----

Military craft bathrooms, I had found out, were not an ideal place to apply makeup.

I had woken up in the early morning hours stiff, achy and with a deep purple bruise on my cheek. I’d done my best to conceal it as to not attract attention wherever Bucky was taking us, but I wasn’t a magician.

Sam and I had yet to speak about me going home, but the tense exchange we’d shared before I passed out still hung over us. It wasn’t like we’d never fought, but the reasoning had never been over one of our lives being endangered. I didn’t want to leave him, but it was futile to argue the point.

The neighborhood that we were passing through didn’t look all that different from New Orleans. Bucky still had yet to tell us who we were here to see, only that it was important that Sam met him. I was done asking questions and trailed behind them on the sidewalk, my hands shoved in my jacket pockets and my head hung in defeat. I’d tried to do the superhero thing and failed miserably.

“Hey, it’s Black Falcon! What’s up?” “It’s just Falcon, kid,” Sam replied to the boy sat in front of a chain-linked fence with his friend.

“No, no, my daddy told me it’s Black Falcon,” the kid insisted. 

Sam stopped in front of them, “Is it because I’m black and I’m the Falcon?” “Well, technically, I mean, yes,” he shrugged. “So are you, like, Black Kid?” The kid’s friend burst into laughter and Sam did the same, “I got him, right?”

“Whatever, man…” the kid sat down, I was just about to pass him when he stopped me, “Are you a superhero too?” Sam stopped and looked back at me, his lips pressed in a thin frown. His eyes were sympathetic but I wasn’t in any mood to discuss my unsuccessful attempt to enter his world. I gave a sad smile to the kid, “No, I’m not.” I patted his shoulder and left, Sam chose to walk with me instead of ahead of me.

Bucky was already on the house’s front porch when we climbed the stairs, he banged on the door marked with a ‘No Trespassing’ sign. We waited a few seconds before it opened to reveal a boy, 16 or 17 maybe.

“We’re here to see Isaiah,” Bucky said. “Nobody named Isaiah live here,” the teen replied.

“Look, we just want to talk to him,” Bucky gently pushed.

“You must not hear what I just said, you ain’t getting in this house. Ya’ll can leave now.” Bucky dropped his head and shut his eyes, looking as if what he was about to say pained him. “Tell him the guy from the bar in Goyang is here,” his voice dropped, “He’s gonna know what that means.”

The boy’s eyes bounced between the three of us before backing away from the door, “All right, wait here.” “Nice kid,” Sam commented once he was gone, “How do you know this guy?” “I used to, we had a skirmish during the Korean War,” Bucky explained. The screened door opened once again to reveal the teen, “Today’s your lucky day. He said he wanna see for himself.”

Bucky led the way inside followed by Sam and I. Where the living room met the dining room was where a tall, grey haired black man stood. “Isaiah,” Bucky greeted him as we stepped inside. “Look at you,” Isaiah said, taking cautious steps toward Bucky. “This is, uh, Sam. Sam, this is Isaiah,” Bucky raised his hand toward the man, “He was a hero. One of the ones that HYDRA feared the most, like Steve. We met in ’51.”

“If by met, you mean I whupped your ass, then, yeah,” Isaiah interrupted to correct Bucky’s inaccurate storytelling. “We heard whispers he was on the peninsula, but everyone they sent after him, never came back. So the U.S. military dropped me behind the line to go deal with him,” he spat the last part of the sentence. “I took half that metal arm in that fight in Goyang, but I see he’s managed to grow it back. I just wanted to see if he got the arm back or if he’d come to kill me.” I watched over Sam’s shoulder as Bucky shook his head. “I’m not a killer anymore,” his voice hitched slightly.

“You think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be? It doesn’t work like that,” Isaiah’s voice hardened, “Well, maybe it does for folks like you.” There was a pause as Bucky collected himself before we got to the heart of the matter, “Isaiah, the reason we’re here is because there’s more of you and me out there.” 

“You and me…” Isaiah seethed, his eyes boring into Bucky.

“And we need to know how…” “I’m not gonna talk about it anymore,” Isaiah growled before picking up a metal tin and flinging it across the room. Sam threw an arm out to shield me but the tin lodged itself in the wooden paneling of the walls. With that power at his age, Isaiah was undoubtably a Super Soldier. 

He took deliberate steps toward us till he stood only a foot away from Bucky. “You know what they did to me for being a hero? They put my ass in jail,” Isaiah’s voice broke, the traumatic memories were hitting him as he spoke, “For thirty years. People running tests, taking my blood, coming into my cell. Even your people weren’t done with me.” “Isaiah…” Sam said carefully.

“Get out of my house!” Sam and I startled at the sudden noise, but I didn’t fault Isaiah for his reaction. My heart broke for him in fact. Tears had welled in my eyes as he told us fragments of his life, my hand slipped to my mouth to prevent my sobs from escaping. Bucky turned away first, leading me out as Isaiah’s presumed grandson did the same to Sam. He pushed ahead of us both, every emotion possible playing out on his face.

“Sam…” Bucky began as we descended the front steps of the house.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Isaiah? How could nobody bring him up?” Sam angrily pointed a finger towards Bucky, who remained quiet as the three of us walked down the middle of the road. “I asked you a question, Bucky.” “I know…” “Steve didn’t know about him?” Sam asked.

“He didn’t, I didn’t tell him,” Bucky answered, his eyes never leaving the ground.

“How could you not tell him?” I exclaimed, my tears still tracing abstract patterns down my cheeks, “If there were anybody to tell, it would have been him!” “So you’re telling me,” Sam stopped walking and pointed back to Isaiah’s house, “That there was a black Super Soldier decades ago and nobody knew about it?” 

Before Bucky got the chance to answer, the siren on a nearby police car sounded off. Two officers pulled up and exited the vehicle, “Hey.” “What’s up, man?” Sam said.

“Is there a problem here?” one asked, focusing on Sam.

“No, we’re just talking,” he answered, gesturing between the three of us. “We’re fine,” Bucky answered, visibly put out by the interruption.

“Really, we’re fine,” I shakily spoke up, wiping my palms under my wet eyes.

The officers didn’t accept our answers, instead coming closer towards Sam. “Can I see your ID?”

“I don’t have ID, why?”

“Okay, sir,” the officer held up his hands, “Just calm down.” “I am calm,” Sam responded, I could see the anger bubbling below his surface, “What do you want? We’re just standing here talking.” Bucky gestured towards the policemen, “Just give him your ID so we can leave.” The tears I was fighting so hard to control couldn’t be stopped as I watched the scene play out. “No,” Sam protested, “I’m not giving him shit, we’re just talking.” “Officers, there’s nothing going on,” I insisted, sniffling as I tried to speak. “Ma’am,” one of the men approached me, holding his hands out carefully as if to shield me from Sam, “If this man is making you uncomfortable in any way-“ “He’s my brother,” I sidestepped away from the cop, “You’re the only ones making us feel uncomfortable.” “He’s not bothering either of us, do you know who this is?” Bucky gestured towards Sam, I came to stand between both of them and placed a protective hand on Sam’s shoulder. If anything was going down, I was going down with him.

The cop that had briefly stepped away to his car came back and whispered something into his co-worker’s ear. His jaw dropped as he looked Sam over again, this time with a much less aggressive stare. “I am so sorry, Mr Wilson,” the bastard had the audacity to chuckle, “I didn’t recognize you without the goggles. I’m really, really sorry about this.” A second police car came down the street and stopped in front of us. The officers told us to wait as they hurried to try and clean up their mistake. It didn’t matter, the damage had already been done. Neighbors and people passing by were stood outside houses and on the sidewalk watching the scene unfold. And there stood Sam, the leading role of a story these men had written and forced him into. I’d never felt more helpless in that moment when I realized that had he not been recognized, there wouldn’t have been anything I could’ve done to save him.

“I didn’t…I didn’t tell anybody because he had already been through enough,” Bucky said quietly, reeling us back to our original point of conversation.

“Mr. Barnes,” the officer who had tried to cage me from Sam approached Bucky, “There’s a warrant out for your arrest.” “Look, the president pardoned him for all that,” Sam said. “Not for that. You missed your court-mandated therapy. It’s like missing a check-in with your PO. I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, you’re under arrest.” Resigned was the only word I could think of to describe Bucky’s expression. He willingly followed and allowed them to handcuff him, quickly shaking his head at us as if to apologize for the ridiculousness as he got into the car. The worst part was I knew that if Sam or I were stupid enough to speak up, the consequences would be far worse than our reluctant cooperation. The car drove off, carrying Bucky and all his demons he hadn’t told his therapist about this week.

Sam and I remained frozen in the street, playing the last five minutes back in our heads. In a little house in a corner of Baltimore sat a war torn, wrongfully imprisoned, black Super Soldier who hadn’t had the suddenly privileged lifestyle Steve Rogers had. Isaiah had been beaten down, experimented on and abused for almost half of his life. The samples that had been taken from his body against his will had been used to create the Super Soldiers we’d met, ones that were out for blood. “Let’s get out of here,” Sam muttered, putting a hand on my back and pulling me into his side protectively. I snuck one last glance at Isaiah’s home, praying that whatever time he had left on earth was spent in the peace he deserved.

——

We hitched a cab ride to the downtown police station and were informed at the front desk that Bucky was being released. His therapist was flying in from New York to come and meet with him.

Sam and I sat in the uncomfortable chairs of the waiting area, him on his phone and me zoning out on the wall. The ‘what ifs’ of our confrontation with the police were still swirling around in my head, each one more brutal than the last.

“I’m not leaving,” I blurted out, “After this, I’m not leaving you guys.” Sam sighed and switched off his phone, “I’m not gonna argue this again with you. I’m keeping you safe, I don’t care whether you like it or not.” “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m feeling,” I turned to him, my eyes watery and my fidgeting fists clenched in my lap. “I’m not going home just so I can sit from a safe distance and worry whether or not you’re gonna die at the hands of some cop who feels brave. Or a bunch of Super Soldiers with a grudge against the world,” I forced the lump building in my throat down, “I’m not going to leave and wait for your body to come back in a casket. The only way I’m going home is if you’re with me.” His lips parted like he was about to say something before deciding against it. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but I could see that my speech had affected him. He pulled me into him, my head laying on his shoulder and his arm around my neck. I had worried for my brother’s life when he was first in the service, even more when he first became an Avenger. But that fear couldn’t compare to the kind I felt when the cops disregard each of his truths. I sniffled as I rested against him, trying hard not to imagine a world where Sam Wilson wasn’t by my side.

“Sam,” a women approached us, “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr. Raynor, James’ therapist.” We rose and Sam shook her hand, “So nice to meet you.” “Y/n Y/l/n,” I introduced myself as she extended the same greeting, “Thank you for getting Bucky out.”

“That was not me,” she smiled politely.

“Christina!” a nearby voice shouted, “It’s great to see you again.” 

When bulls see the color red, it angers them to the point that they’ll charge toward it in a fit of rage. My reaction to seeing John Walker in the red white and blue suit was one of a similar caliber.

“You gotta be kidding me,” I grumbled, covering my face with my palm. 

“You know him?” Sam asked in disbelief. “Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day,” Dr. Raynor answered.

Walker strutted towards us, “I heard you were working with Bucky so I thought I’d step in. Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.” 

“We haven’t finished our work,” she asserted, “Who authorized this?” Walker held up two hands and aimed them at his arrogant self. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up. Just do whatever you got to do with him, then send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I,” he pointed to me and Sam, “You guys too. I’ll be outside.”

He marched back out through the door he’d come through and if we hadn’t been in a police station, I might have reeled him back in with my energy to inform him of just how low of a chance there was that we’d ever take an order from him. But if we had to go through him to spring Bucky, I’d bite my tongue for his sake.

“James,” Dr. Raynor turned, addressing Bucky who was now leaned up against the nearby counter, “Condition of your release, session now,” she looked over her shoulder towards us, “You too, Sam, Y/n.” Sam was quick to decline for us both, “That’s okay, we’ll be out here-“ “That wasn’t a request.”

Judging by the unenthusiastic glare we were getting from Bucky, he wasn’t any more excited than we were. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can leave,” I said to Sam, taking the initiative and following Dr. Raynor, once again with the men in my tow.

“What exactly is your relationship with James, Miss Y/l/n?” Dr. Raynor asked as she slowed her pace to match mine. “I don’t have a relationship with him,” I answered plainly, “I only met him yesterday. We got our asses kicked in Munich together.”

We were led into an interrogation room, just as cold and bleak as the ones I’d seen on tv. There were two chairs on each side of the table awaiting us. “Since I’m here primarily to speak with James and Sam, Y/n,” Dr. Raynor removed her coat and placed it on the back of her seat, “You can observe alongside me. You two on that end.” A simple thing as even sitting next to one another seemed like too big an ask for Sam and Bucky. The two of them looked like kids sent to the principal’s office as they begrudgingly sat down. I for one was looking forward to watching them sort out whatever beef they had that I had gotten tangled up in.

“So,” Dr. Raynor set her notebook down on the table, “Who would like to start?” “All right, look, Dr. Raynor?” Sam began, “I get it, why you want me to talk to Freaky Magoo over here. But I’m 100% fine.” Sam’s fatal mistake was darting his eyes over to me before looking back at her. I already knew he was lying, but his tell confirmed it.

“It is my job to make sure that you’re okay,” Dr. Raynor addressed Bucky, “And so, yeah, this may be slightly unprofessional but it’s the only way that I can see if you’re getting over whatever’s eating at you.” 

“This is ridiculous,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I agree,” Bucky shook his head.

“This is the first time they’ve agreed on anything for the past twenty four hours,” I spoke up, leaning back in my seat to watch the show unfold.

“See? We’re making progress already,” Dr. Raynor said, “So, who wants to go first?”

Silence.

“No volunteers? Wow, how surprising…” she remarked, “Okay, we’re going to do an exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what kind of life they wanna build together. Are you familiar with the miracle question?”

“Absolutely not,” Bucky answered. 

“Of course not,” Sam’s voice overlapped with Bucky’s.

“Okay, it goes like this. Suppose that while you’re sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?’

Bucky suddenly became chatty, “In my miracle, um, he would…he would talk less.”

“Exactly what I was gonna say,” Sam replied, “Isn’t that ironic?”

“You guys are leaving me with no choice,” Dr. Raynor shrugged, “It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise.” “I like this better,” Bucky perkily pointed a finger towards his shrink.

Sam chuckled quietly to himself, “He’s gonna love this.” “Yeah, I’m ready.” “This is right up your alley…” Dr. Raynor motioned for them to rotate, ”Turn around, face each other.” “You should really enjoy this,” Sam said acidly. 

“I’m going to,” Bucky said with a sarcastic smile, the only one I’d seen him wear. “Let’s do it,” he said happily as Sam moved to face him, “Let’s stare. This is a good exercise, thanks Doc.” “Alright, get close,” Dr. Raynor instructed, they scooted slightly towards one another, “Come on, get closer.” With their knees touching, any further would put them much closer than either of them would ever want. “Which way do you want to go?” Bucky asked, “Right or left?” “Why are your legs open?” Sam asked impatiently, “You know what? Fine, here, you happy now?” He used Bucky’s chair to pull him forward so they legs were locked together.

“That’s a little close,” Bucky said loudly, adjusting in his seat. Sam nodded in agreement, “It’s very close, that’s what you wanted, right?” 

I couldn’t hold in my laughter anymore, causing both of them to shoot daggers at me. “Is this fun for you?” Sam snapped, gesturing towards their touching thighs. “Very,” I grinned unapologetically.

“Guys,” Dr. Raynor held up a hand to silence us all, “Now, look at each other. You need to look at each other in the eyes,” they obeyed and lifted their eyes to meet, “There, you see? That wasn’t so hard.” The stares they wore intensified, “Wait, what are you doing?” Dr. Raynor asked, “Are you having a staring contest?” Sam adjusting his eyebrows was her answer, she leaned over the table and snapped her fingers. “Just blink! All right, James, why does Sam aggravate you?” Bucky turned to his therapist with as close to a real smile as I’d seen on him when she cut him off, “And don’t say something childish.” His head lolled to the side in defeat, his pink tongue came out to wet his lips as he thought over his answer. “Why did you give up that shield?” “Why are you making such a big deal over something that has nothing to do with you?” Sam shot back.

“Steve believed in you, he trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason,” Bucky’s emotions were starting to seep out, “That shield, that is- that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield and you threw it away like it was nothing.” “Shut up…” Sam muttered.

“So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.”

The way that Bucky’s voice had quivered at the end was telling of just how deep the wound ran. But Sam’s forgoing of the shield was backed by reasons that Bucky could never wrap his mind around.

“You finished?” Sam spoke up, when Bucky said yes, he continued, “All right, good. Maybe this is something you or Steve will never understand. But can you accept that I did what I thought was right?”

This was the issue that made the heavy silence we were sitting in all the more complicated. Both men were valid in their feelings, but there would be no resolve for either of them. Steve was gone, Walker carried the shield and Bucky and Sam were trying their best to navigate a new world.

Sam scoffed, burying the emotions that I knew he was trying to hide from. “You know what, Doc? I don’t have time for this. We have some real serious shit going on. So how about this? I will squash it right now. We go deal with that, and when we’re done, we both can go on separate long vacations and never see each other again.” My eyes widened at how quickly the conversation had escalated. “I like that,” Bucky agreed.

“Great. Well, let’s get to work,” Sam turned to Dr. Raynor, “Thanks, Doc, for making it weird. I feel much better,” he turned to Bucky, “I’ll see you outside.” With a slap to his shoulder, he rose from his seat and was out the door in seconds. There was so much left unresolved that didn’t sit well with me. As Bucky went to stand up, I did too. “Actually, Doctor,” I walked around to table to take Sam’s empty seat, “I’d like to say a few things.” Bucky annoyedly fell back down into his chair and shook his head in irritation. I didn’t particularly care that he didn’t want to speak with me, all he had to do was listen. “I know you and Steve were best friends and I know how much he means to you. But I can’t sit here and watch you berate my brother relentlessly over the fact that he didn’t take up that mantle. It’s easy for someone like Steve to be Captain America without any pushback, but Sam?” I pointed to the closed door, “It’s a whole ‘other ballgame. And while Steve would never have fully understood it, he would have made an effort to. And he wouldn’t be pressuring Sam like you are. You need to drop this and you need to drop it now.” “Let’s get one thing straight,” his razor sharp jaw ticked in anger, “You don’t get to talk about Steve like you knew him or like you understand anything about our friendship. You never met him, you don’t get to speak for him.” He could have never known what button he had just pressed, but my reaction wouldn’t have changed even if he had. I sat up straighter in my chair, my steely eyes boring into him. “I didn’t know Steve? Well, then I guess it was a different Steve Rogers that Sam introduced me to when I came to visit him in D.C. And it must have been a different Steve Rogers that I visited at the Avengers compound when I helped Sam move in,” I leaned forward, the dam in my eyes threatening to break, “It must have been a different Steve Rogers that I ran to when people all around me started turning to dust.”

————

It was pouring rain outside the Avengers compound, the piles of dust that had rested on the ground having long since been washed away. Y/n stormed across the front lawn of the compound to the entrance, she had driven straight through for 20 hours from Delacroix to upstate New York. Getting past security hadn’t been hard once she had said who she needed to speak to and who it regarded.

Her boots squeaked across the floor as she marched through the compound, she’d only been once but she still remembered her way around. She navigated through hallways until she’d found the main room, she only recognized one of the figures that stood hunched over a table in deep discussion. At the sound of her entrance, each one of them turned around. “Y/n…” Steve said in shock, a relieved sigh spilling from his lips, “You’re okay.” “He’s here, right?” she trembled, “He’s in his room or the kitchen? Steve, tell me he’s here.” When Steve didn’t answer and ducked his head, Y/n pushed harder. “Tell me he’s here, Steve.” He looked back up, finally meeting her eyes. “I can’t do that.”

Y/n let the last bit of strength she had slip through her fingers as her soaked form dropped to the floor. Steve was quick to hold her, offering what little comfort he could, knowing that he wasn’t the person she wanted to see most in the world. She sobbed in his arms, the first step in the long process of mourning her brother.

Steve made a true effort to keep in contact with Y/n over the next five years. He flew down to New Orleans to visit every couple months or he offered to fly Y/n up to New York. About two years post Blip were when financial struggles really started to hit Sarah and Y/n’s business and Y/n had to decline each kind offer to meet him on his turf. When she explained why, Steve showed up on her doorstep two days later, ready to stay for the week and help out however he could. It wasn’t hard to see why Sam had bonded so deeply with Steve, he had just as big a heart as her brother.

The day that Sarah and Y/n received the joyous call from Sam that he was back from the dead was the best day of their lives. Y/n called Steve immediately after to tell him the news and thank him for whatever part she had guessed he’d played in reuniting their family. Her calls kept going to voicemail. After Sam’s reunion with his sisters and nephews, he took Y/n aside and handed her an envelope. Inside it was a letter from Steve explaining that he wouldn’t be returning after the restoration of the population. He wished her a good life with her family and that he had valued her friendship and kindness towards him. As brokenhearted as Y/n had been over the loss of her friend, when Sam told her the true reason behind Steve’s sudden disappearance, she was overjoyed that Steve had gotten somebody he loved back too.

Steve Rogers was there for Y/n in some of her darkest hours. They had bonded deeply, their friendship a single ray of light in their then darkened world. To see his shield paraded around by someone who didn’t embody the same qualities and values that he did hurt more than she let on. The world may have accepted John Walker, but he’d never be Captain America in Y/n’s eyes.

————

I had somehow made it through my retelling of my time with Steve without completely breaking down. A river of silent tears streamed down my cheeks but my voice held firm. 

Bucky’s harsh stare had diminished significantly the longer I spoke. His plush lips were parted in surprise, words I didn’t care to hear hanging off of them.

“I don’t ever want to hear that I didn’t know Steve Rogers,” my voice threatened to break finally, “You’re not the only one who wants to protect his legacy.” Dr. Raynor had remained so silent while I talked, I’d forgotten she was there until she offered me a tissue. I hastily wiped my cheeks, ducking away from Bucky’s gaze. “Thank you, Doctor,” I said softly as I stood up, “This has been really helpful.” I wrapped my arms tight around my torso and exited the room as quick as I could, making a beeline for the lobby to find Sam. When he spotted me, he stood to attention. “What’s wrong? What happened?” “Nothing,” I shook my head, “I just want to get out of here.” He placed a protective hand on my shoulder as he watched me sniffle the last of my tears away. Bucky joined us seconds later, I couldn’t look directly at him after bearing so much of myself to him. The three of us left the police station in a now familiar silence, each deep in thought about what we’d revealed. 

“Well, I feel better,” Sam said as we stepped out into the cool evening air. “I feel awful,” Bucky grumbled.

A siren whooping caught our attention, I wished it hadn’t. There stood Lemar Hoskins and John Walker, waving at us and calling us over. The three of us reluctantly made our way towards them. “Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

Sam rolled his eyes and humored him, “So what do you got?”

“Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau,” Walker explained, “We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.” “They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal,” Hoskins interjected, “But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.” 

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps,” Walker finished.

“Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since The Blip,” Bucky spoke up across from me, “So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.” Walker smiled, “Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?” “Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?” Bucky asked. “No, we don’t know, Bucky,” his voiced raised, highlighting his frustrations, “It’s only a matter of time before we find out.” If I knew anything about Bucky by now, it was that he had no issue with provoking people. “Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?” I clapped my hands together once, “Okay, if this keeps going, someone’s probably gonna end up back in there behind bars so let’s just settle down.” “Look, Walker’s right,” Sam stepped forward, “It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorizations you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”

We didn’t make it further than a three steps when Walker spoke up again. “Miss Y/l/n,” I stopped walking at his call, “You’re an enhanced individual, right?” “I’m what they call a mutant,” I spun on my heels to face him, “But to simplify it, sure, I’m enhanced.” Walker raised a condescending eyebrow, “Are you familiar with the Sokovian Accords?”

My spine stiffened, he was trying to blackmail me without actually saying the words. I was far too familiar with the accords and the ramifications they’d had on the Avengers. They’d sent Steve and Sam on the run for two years. “I think I’ve heard of them, yeah,” I smiled humorlessly. “It clearly states that any enhanced individuals who haven’t signed are not authorized to participate in any national or international conflicts or any missions run by private organizations such as the Avengers,” he gestured towards Sam, “You’re running with an Avenger, aren’t you?” A mirthless chuckle fell from my mouth as I watched him try and intimidate me. “Look, Craptain America,” I took slow and calculated steps towards him, “You can order your partner around or the soldiers that look up to you, but don’t think for one second that you can threaten me and try to pull the same shit the government did with Wanda Maximoff. I’m not going to be told who I can and cannot help.” Walker looked down at me menacingly, resembling a little boy who hadn’t gotten his way. “A word of advice then,” he said, eyes flicking between Sam, Bucky and I, “Stay the hell out of my way.” The juxtaposition between him and Steve had never been more apparent. Here he was daring to threaten me with incarceration followed by an ominous warning when it hadn’t worked. Bucky, Sam and I waited until him and Hoskins had left before heading our own way. “‘Craptain America?’” Sam echoed, slinging an arm around my neck, “I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of you.” “It was a low blow,” I admitted with a contradictory smirk.

“Someone needed to say it,” Bucky chimed in, hesitantly looking over to me before quickly averting his gaze back to the sidewalk.

“Do I need to be worried that he threatened me with the accords? Are Sarah and I going to have S.H.I.E.L.D showing up on our door or something?” I asked.

“I think he’s just trying to intimidate you, but…” Sam inhaled wearily, “But I’d rather keep you here with us, just to be safe. If anybody were to come, we could protect you.” My smile grew as I looked up at Sam, the parameters of how to keep me safe had changed in my favor. I was almost grateful Walker had threatened me. “I can stay?” “Stop looking so happy about it,” Sam dropped his arm from around me, “This isn’t going to be easy,” he looked to our left to Bucky, “So what are you thinking?”

“Well, I know what we have to do,” he answered, if he had reservations about me sticking around, he was kind enough not to mention them. “When Isaiah said “my people…””

“Oh, don’t take that to heart. That’s not what he meant.”

“No, he meant HYDRA, HYDRA used to be my people.”

Sam thought the answer over for a second, decoding it. “Not a chance,” he scoffed.

“Walker doesn’t have any leads,” Bucky shrugged.

“I know where you’re going with this, no.” “He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?” “Wait, you’re not talking about…” I sought out Bucky’s eyes that were still dodging mine. I didn’t need a history lesson on who he was referring to. “No. Not him. He’s crazy.” “We don’t exactly have a lot of other options,” Bucky said as if that was justification for what he wanted to do. “So you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?” Sam asked. Bucky hesitated, searching for a more sophisticated answer. “Y-yes.” I may have been allowed to stay, but I knew that I wasn’t experienced enough yet to argue on their level. They knew when and how to make the difficult calls, they could operate in a grey area with little to no issues. All I could do was sit back, be taken along for the ride and tolerate any passengers who got in along the way.

“Okay, then,” Sam finally concurred, “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

————

I couldn’t sleep.

We were back on the jet speeding back to Germany, this time with an even more sinister problem at hand. I had wanted to come along, I just hadn’t guessed that the reason I’d be allowed to stay would be because of a threat to my safety. All because of my powers. This was the reason why my father had been hellbent on keeping them a secret. I felt in a way that I’d failed him, that somewhere in the afterlife he was disappointed in me for telling the truth, even if I’d done it for the right reasons. Sam was conked out next to me, I envied his military training to get quick sleep wherever he could. I personally felt like I’d injected caffeine into my veins back in Maryland and hadn’t been able to come down since.

“Can’t sleep?” Bucky asked from where he laid on the floor, I thought he’d been unconscious the whole time.

“Can’t imagine why,” I dryly chuckled, “We’re only flying cross country to sit down and meet with one of the world’s most dangerous criminals. Why the floor?” “Oh,” he’d sat up and was looking back down at his lousy makeshift bed, his jacket balled up as a pillow and an itchy blanket, “It’s, uh, hard to explain.”

After a few seconds of near uncomfortable silence, he pushed himself up and made his way to where I sat. I tucked my legs under me to make room for his burly body. He was big enough that with all the space I’d tried to give him, my knees still brushed against his thick thigh. He sighed loudly, giving voice to the divide that if we’d have gone our separate ways, as planned, wouldn’t have mattered. Now that we were going to be working together, we couldn’t ignore what had been said in that interrogation room.

“Listen, about what…happened,” his face contorted in a mild cringe as he played the scene back in his head, “I’m sorry, for what I said.” “You didn’t know,” I offered, picking at a loose thread on my jacket, “I don’t talk about Steve a whole lot except with Sam.” “Still, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that,” Bucky continued, folding his hands in his lap. “I’ve been rude since we met and that’s not okay. Especially when all you’ve done is try and help.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” I leaned my head against the back of my seat, “No permanent damage done.” His thumbs danced together, his brows were knitted in concentration as he prepared to speak. “Can I, uh, ask you about your powers?”

I twisted so that I could properly face him, “Ask away.” “How did they happen?” “I was born with them, actually. I’ve got this thing called the X-gene, it’s supposed to manifest at puberty but for me it activated when I was really young,” I ran a hand through my hair, “Imagine being five years old and having blue come out of your fingers when you were reaching for a juice box.” A miracle occurred and Bucky’s lips actually quirked up in a half smile. It encouraged me to keep talking. “My mom wanted to take me to this school for kids like me but my dad forbade it. He kept saying that it was too dangerous and that somebody could find me. It was like he didn’t realize that it was a refuge for people with powers, not a hunting ground,” I paused, flashing back to arguments between my parents of which one of them actually knew what was best for me. “So instead, I just taught myself how to control them. There were a couple incidents but other than that, I’ve kept them under lock and key for a long time.”

Bucky had remained still and fascinated as I spoke, switching between watching my eyes and my lips. Suddenly it felt like nothing had ever gone on between us. We were just fellow soldiers or co-workers having a conversation outside of work.

“What do they think now? Your parents?” he asked, the ease of the moment slipping away with a simple question. He couldn’t have known the minefield he was stepping into.

“My mom doesn’t know yet that I told Sam,” I sighed deeply, inhaling strength and exhaling bad memories, “And my dad killed himself when I was a kid.” “Oh,” Bucky’s eyebrows lifted, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried into-“

“No, no, it’s fine…” I waved him off, “Whether I want it to be or not, it’s a part of me. He was in the service and when he returned, he was diagnosed with severe PTSD. I was so young when he came home that I don’t really have any memories of him before it happened. He had all the classic symptoms; flashbacks, nightmares, paranoia, fits of anger, at some point he even stopped believing that he was a good father and husband,” I tear slipped down my cheek, “That was around the time it happened. We tried for so long to help him but the trauma consumed him. Every day he was just doing his best to survive himself.” I glanced up at Bucky to find that his eyes were just as watery as mine. It hadn’t dawned on me that I was telling him everything that he already knew about what happened when someone returned from war. He was living it out right now. 

“I’m not trying to strike any nerves but…in that session tonight, I saw how much you were holding in. With Sam, with me…” I started, praying I wasn’t going to end up pushing him further away, “I’ve seen what bottling things up and isolating yourself can do to a person and it’s a hell I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I know you don’t trust me yet but…if you ever do need somebody to talk to…I can’t understand your experiences, but I can recognize some of it.” Bucky truly looked lost, like he’d never been in the position of receiving such an offer. His face, usually so hardened, had softened so much he was almost unrecognizable. And yet there was still some barrier, some pain weaved between the hope and vulnerability that kept him from receiving my kindness with open arms. In the session, the pain I had seen in his eyes reminded me so desperately of that in my father’s eyes. If I didn’t try to help him, that look would haunt me for a long time.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice raspy enough to make me shiver. We sat there in the dark, both our walls we’d built around ourselves starting to crumble as we chipped away at one another. There was some feeling I couldn’t put a name to that had settled over us. The eyes that I’d avoided all day were now all I could focus on, digging into the deep blue pools and feeling like I could lay down my sword there. If we were going to get through this mission, we needed to be friends at least and I felt confidant we were on the path.

Bucky eventually cleared his throat, shaking me from my thoughts that he was at the center of. “We’re gonna be to Berlin soon, you should get some sleep.”

Internally, I smiled at the familiarity, it was almost word for word what he’d told me the other night. Only now the hostility had been dropped.

“You need it too,” I replied as he rose and made his way across the plane, “Goodnight, Barnes.” I curled up in a ball near Sam’s feet, praying he didn’t kick me in his sleep. I had just shut my eyes to try when a voice spoke up, “Bucky.”

“Hmm?” I opened one eye to see him lay back down on the floor, attempting to get comfortable.

“Call me Bucky.”

I pursed my lips slightly to decrease the size of my smile, I wasn’t the only one laying down their weapons. “Alright. Goodnight, Bucky.”

----

A/N: There’s something so powerful about name dropping Wanda Maximoff and Y/n having been besties with Steve Rogers lol. Hope you all enjoy, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged! 

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlypotterwhodiaries​ @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​

[bistevethor]

Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

[innocent-chris-evans-slut]

I’ve Just Fucked You, Sweetheart

Request: Hello, I saw your requests were open and I can't pass this chance up! Could you please write anything with Ransom? Ideally smut 👀 I'm always into the idea of a smug Ransom getting off on an easily flustered reader. Anything from downright humiliation to fluff like embarrassing her by saying he likes her is fine with me! Hope this makes sense? But tbh anything with Ransom I will eat up, I think Chris and Steve get enough love lol

My Masterlist ✨

Requests are open.

Ransom x maidReader 

Word Count: 3,4k 

Type: smut 

Warning(s): swearing, dub-con sex, blowjob, rough sex

The 4th of July holiday was your favorite. You came from an extremely patriotic family -with both your grandfathers being former soldiers.

When you were a child, you remembered your house being full of people on this particular day. There was your entire family: your parents, your aunties and uncles, your cousins -to which you were particularly close since you hadn’t any sibling- and your grandparents. Then, when your cousins became getting older and having their own families, this kind of events started becoming more and more sporadic.

At the age of 25 you graduated and started working as a sous-chef at a restaurant. Cooking was your passion and when your grandfather introduced you to Harlan Thrombey, who was looking for a chef for his events, you just couldn’t say no.

It had been two years since the first time you worked at the manor. You had become more familiar with the place, your co-workers, and also with Harlan. He was very caring and kind with all his employees, giving them completely access to his house. Though, when his family was a home with him during the holidays, you couldn’t go wherever you wanted.

There was one person in particular you just couldn’t put up with: Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

A complete asshole who didn’t mind others’ businesses except his. Unlike his grandfather, to who he really seemed having something in common, Ransom was very ungrateful with his family and rude with the help. He didn’t ask, he only commanded others to do and he really liked that part: watching payed people struggling what he was supposed to be doing.

You felt the atmosphere changing before anyone could even tell you Ransom was parking his car. You heard the engine of an old car being turned off and its door being violently closed. The noise scared you and you dropped some cream.

Ransom turned around and saw you, focused on wiping the floor. He had his eyes on you also when you got up from your knees and bended over the counter to clean the mess you did. He bit his bottom lip and put on his usual mischievous smirk.

Ransom had always loved a beautiful woman, especially a younger one with a really good body -according to him-, and you were just his next prey.

But you didn’t know anything about his plans for you for that weekend.

It was almost seven o’clock in the afternoon when you finished making dinner for the Thrombeys. Fortunately, Martha decided to help you arranging the table and the dining room. So you remained in the kitchen -which you liked calling ‘your reign’-, preparing all the dishes and fixing the wrong quantities.

“So, when I can taste your special cream?”

You weren’t prepared for anyone to enter the kitchen while you were with your hands in the pastry. You turned around and saw Ransom standing with his back against the door. His smirk naughty smirk wasn’t missing.

“What?” you asked shocked by his words. But you had to imagine that he would have said something to make you uncomfortable; he always did it. Once you had regained your composure, you said: “Is there anything I can do for you, Hugh?”

He walked in, leaving the door opened, and sat down on a stool right in front of you, and you couldn’t go anywhere else since you were making the cake, “Nothing in particular”. He took a bit of cream from its bowl on the counter, “Mmh, so good. You know…your cream is so delicious”.

You couldn’t form any sentence. You were so embarrassed by his words that you couldn’t help but keep silence and stare into his eyes.

“Hugh, you’re making me very uncomfortable. Can I ask you to leave the kitchen?” you had been told by Harlan more than once to push away Ransom any time he would have tried to force you to do anything. That was what you did every single time, but he would never listen to you.

In fact, also this time, Ransom dragged himself closer to you a stared at you as you moved smoothly around the room. On the other hand, you tried not to stumble on you own feet as you passed in front of him.

Ransom was supposed to be with his family in the living room, socializing with the guests, instead he preferred sitting in the kitchen. Being completely unhelpful.

“Y/N the steak tartare is almost finished”, Martha entered the room, fortunately, interrupting the looks between you and the man with you in the room.

“There are three more trays in the fridge”, you told her as you decorated the cake with blue and red decorations and lying an American flag on the top of it. Once you were done, you turned around to see Martha struggling with the trays, “Here, let me help you”, you left the cake in the big fridge and went helping your co-worker taking all the food out of the fridge, then she brought everything in the dining room.

“I can’t wait to taste your incredible cake”, Ransom left you with that statement, cleaning his mouth as he spoke and walked towards the door, “See you later”.

You didn’t see him anymore that day. When you went back home -almost at midnight in the morning- the Thrombeys were still partying and, although Harlan had insisted for you and Martha to stay a little bit longer -just enough to see the fireworks-, both of you preferred to leave the manor.

The morning after, you were required to arrive at Harlan’s home at 7 o’clock and, as soon as you had entered the kitchen, you started preparing breakfast for the Thrombeys and you packed their lunch. Every year, on the 5th, the entire family was usually invited at some friend’s house and they liked spending the entire day there. This years wasn’t different from the others.

After a quick breakfast, Harlan, his children, and two of his grandchildren, left the manor and with their cars reached the city. Meanwhile, inside the house, you and Martha kept doing your jobs.

Not everybody had left the house that morning; Ransom didn’t feel like going with his family and spending another day hearing bullshit coming from his mother’s mouth. He would rather loaf in his bedroom at his grandfather’s house than spend another minute with them and their huge egos -he didn’t even bother to get downstairs for breakfast.

“Is he still here?” there wasn’t need to pronounce his name when both, you and Martha, knew of who you were talking about, “How can Harlan be so amenable with him? I can’t-“

“You can’t what? Please, go on”, Ransom entered kitchen and sat down on the same stool he was sit the evening before, “I’m very interested”, he placed his chin on his fists and was now looking at Martha, waiting for her to say anything.

You watched the scene from the other end of the counter, while making him his favorite breakfast. In a certain way, Ransom was much more demanding than his grandfather -the one who actually paid you for your work. But at the same time he was the first member of the family you had ever met, and you weren’t exaggerating when you said he did a certain impression on you, almost as he was your employer and not his grandfather.

“Weren’t you supposed to be with Harlan?”

Ransom was capable of instilling dread in people and you and Martha weren’t exempt. You exchanged a sympathetic look with your co-worker and she shook her head.

“I am going, Hugh”, then she turned towards your direction and said: “See you later”, and she left.

There was a moment of silence right after Martha had left the room, but then Ransom spoke: “Finally just the two of us”.

You shivered at his words, although you tried not to let him notice that. You kept planning all the meals for the week, but you felt Ransom’s eyes on you as you wrote on the paper. Though he was peacefully eating his breakfast, he was also looking at you -or better, at your behind. You didn’t say anything just because he did it very often when you were alone with him.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Hugh?” you asked him as you walked pass behind him and you took the empty dish from in front of him, “Otherwise I go back planning the week”.

“Very rude from you, especially since we’ll spend the day together”, he took the last sip from his glass and walked towards you, forcing you to the wall, “See you later, kitten”.

It had been a couple of hours since you last see Ransom around the house; you had the chance to clean the kitchen and also try cooking something new. You successfully added three new receipts to Harlan’s particular diet, and you were very proud of yourself.

It was almost lunch time and still you didn’t know if you had to cook something for Ransom or not, so you decided to go upstairs and ask it to him. The creaking stairs announced you to him -since you were the only two people in the house-, so you thought you didn’t have to knock on the door.

Very bad choice.

Right when you entered the bedroom, Ransom exited the shower completely naked. Though you closed your eyes, and covered them with both your hands, you had already seen everything. And it meant literally everything.

“Hugh!”

“What?” he didn’t seem to care, Ransom stood up in silence and both his arms were crossed above his chest; he was staring at you, “I’m in my room and, if I want to be naked, I do it. You didn’t knock on the door”, knowing how uncomfortable you were, he didn’t move and kept being undressed in front of you.

“Can you put something on, please?”, you turned around and slowly breathed in and out. You felt your heart beating so fast that it was about to break the chest cavity.

“I would rather put something under me”; Ransom had always been so direct with people and it wasn’t the first time he pronounced an appreciation towards you, and your body as well.

On the other hand, you knew the kind of girls he liked to spend time with, and you definitely weren’t one of them. You weren’t a model or a rich heiress with a breathtaking body, and -most importantly- you weren’t living in a fairy tale so you knew exactly what to expect from men like him.

“I’m not kidding, Hugh. I’m very uncomfortable at the moment. Could you, please, put something on?” you could hear him laughing at you, but you couldn’t do anything but exit the room.

Unfortunately, he saw you before you had the chance to make even only one step towards the door and he positioned right in front of it. You didn’t noticed the movement, so you were taken by surprised when your hand, instead of came in contact you a cold surface, touched something squishy, yet solid. You opened your eyes involuntary only to meet Ransom’s eyes fixed on you and your hand resting on his torso.

“H-hugh”, it came out as a whisper, more than a scolding. Ransom kept your wrists firmly pinned against the wall, leaving you completely exposed to his mercy. You opened your mouth to speak up, but no words came out of it; instead something entered your mouth.

As soon as he saw you trying to say something, Ransom put two fingers inside your mouth so that you weren’t able to talk -or, talk without wet his fingers; “What?” he acted as if nothing wrong was happening. Quite the opposite, there wasn’t anything good in that situation, “Speak”.

“I can’t-“ you stopped at mid-sentence at him pulling down your tongue and, so, making you lower your gaze. Your eyes stopped right on his up-standing dick. You weren’t surprised to notice it was long and thick. You had had a couple of boyfriends, but you had never seen anything like that before.

Ransom was gently stroking it with his left hand -the one he had in your mouth- while his other hand became going down on your face, then his fingertips touched your collar bone very slowly and found your sweet spot between your chest. Once he had understood how powerful the effect of caressing it was on you, Ransom didn’t stop moving his fingers above it and your breath became heavier and heavier, “I’ll tell you what I wanna do with you”. He put his mouth closer to your hear and said: “I wanna fuck you here-“ and he passed a finger on your lips, “-and here-“ his hand slipped down on your body, stopping right on your pelvis, and it got its way into your pants, “-and maybe also here”, with his other hand he grabbed your butt and squeezed it harshly, “Where do you want to start from?”

“I-I don’t think this is a-appropriate, Hugh”, you said as you tried to get away from his embrace, but it was impossible seen his massive body size compared to yours.

“This is highly unappropriated, but you want it as much as I want it”, his lips gently brushed against the skin of your neck. You gasped as he moved his tongue on your half-hidden soft spot under your ear and you shivered, weaving your hands together behind his neck, “C’mon, be a good girl”, you intertwined your fingers.

You didn’t know why, but your defense fell, and you gave up. Ransom took the opportunity to lay his lips on yours, so that you couldn’t help but return the kiss. His lips were exactly as you had always imagined them: soft and tasting like tobacco and mint.

As he loosened the grasp on both your wrists, you were forced to walk back until you hit the wooden structure of the bed with your calves; Ransom broke the kiss and made you fall on the soft mattress. Both of you kept your eyes on each other. You took a long, deep breath as you saw him removing his sweater and toss it away somewhere in the room. Then he placed his hands at the side of your head and stared at you: “We’re gonna take all the time we need, sweetheart”.

You remained still as Ransom removed your t-shirt and jeans and threw them behind his shoulder; once you had been left in only your underwear, he looked at you with a very hungry look on his face and smirked. Less than a second after his lips were on yours again and you laced your arms behind his neck, dragging him closer to you.

“You won’t want another man this close to you after I’ll be done with you”, the built man standing above you said. His hands travelled on your body, his fingertips were burning as they moved on your exposed skin and you couldn’t hold a moan anymore.

“Ransom, please”, you contorted yourself as his hands went down to your core. Another moan was released as his index finger made circles on your clit, making you tremble. You closed your eyes in awe and tilted your head backwards; then, all of a sudden, you felt his mouth work on you and at that point you left behind any hesitation.

His tongue drew circles on your clit harder and harder and you kept moaning louder every time; his teeth gently scratched on your labia as his hands kept you as still as possible. You grabbed the sheets in your hands and held on tight to them when you felt your climax coming.

“Too early.”

You realized he wouldn’t have left you come when he got up and looked at you, “Are you kidding me?” you were more than angry, feeling like he was just messing with you and that, maybe, he would have mocked you in front of his family later that night, “You’re only a fuck-“

Ransom stopped you mid-sentence by ‘putting your mouth to a better use’ -as he would have said. He had lowered his pants and underwear and his cock sprung free right in front of you, then he sat you down on the mattress and he stood up in front of you, his dick touching your lips, “Are you gonna suck it or you just wanna watch it?” he caressed your cheeks and forced you to open your mouth, taking in his long and thick cock. Surprisingly for him, you took it all in, such that the tip of your nose was pressed against the body hair on his pelvis and his balls pounded against your chin each time he slammed in and out, each time faster than before, “Fuck”, he said every time his tip hit that back of your throat and you looked up to him. Needless to say, his eyes were fixed on your face and careful to notice every face you made while sucking him. You didn’t have the control of the situation, rather it was him who was standing upon you and guiding your movement, “C’mon, good girl. You’ll be rewarded”, he put his hands on both sides of you head and pushed his cock down your throat one last time before you felt hot salty spurt swarming your mouth. As you swallowed it, Ransom pulled out and spread a good amount of his white liquid on your face, and your tits, too, “From now on, this is what I’ll think about every time I’ll see you work in the kitchen”, he rubbed his thumb on your cheeks and said: “Maybe, next time, I’ll be so kind to let you fuck yourself on the counter”, he picked you up and bended you over the desk, “But for today, it will be me who will fuck you”.

You felt his cold hand brushing against your butt-cheeks, and you jumped when he smacked both of them at the same moment. You hissed and didn’t say anything; before you could turn your head towards him, Ransom grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you towards him, making you touch his bare chest with your shoulder.

“I won’t go easy on you, sweetheart”, having said that, he made his way inside you and went on until his tip hit your cervix.

That was way beyond any other experience you had had. Not only was he very good with his tongue -as you had the chance to state not later than ten minutes ago-, but Ransom was also a very -very- good fucked: the vigor with which he pounded into you, the same strength with which he held you in place made you scream in pleasure. “Please, oh God!” you cried out as the pace increased.

“There’s no God here, sweetheart, only me”, Ransom whispered to your ear while pounding into you with an ungodly speed, and you could swear you were seeing the stars when he hit your G-spot, “You’re almost there, I can feel it”, one of his hands was placed on your head and the other one went drawing circles on your clit, taking you closer to the edge, “Tell me wat you want, sweetheart”.

“F-fuck”, you hissed as you felt his index finger pressing harder against your clit, “P-please…let m-me cum. I’m…I’m so close”, you raised your head and turned over to throw a look at him, “Please”, you asked him with pleading eyes. Ransom began thrusting irregularly -sign that he was close too- and you started breathing erratically. You cried out very loud when your orgasm finally hit, and a wave of pleasure washed you over. “Fuck…this was-“

“Y/N?! What the fuck are you doing?”

You turned pale. Ransom, instead, looked very amused with himself and was smirking at you, “Notify me when you’ll explain it to her” said him sitting down on his bed, “Please, go”.

“Go fuck yourself, Ransom.”

“Actually, I’ve just fucked you, sweetheart.”

ALL MY STORIES:

@thummbelina

@thegetawaywriter

@coffeebooksandfandom

@kiza4

@jemzeraion

@chris-evans-is-world

@rebloggingeverything

ALL CHRIS EVANS:

@stargazingfangirl18

@rororo06

@patzammit

@harrysthiccthighss

@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Epilogue)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3498 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: This is it 🥺🥺 I’m so sad we’re at the end but I couldn’t be happier by all of your reactions, even when things weren’t at their best I loved hearing your screams. Now we can all cry together as we say goodbye. Thank you so much for reading their story. Btw I started a Patreon for those who would like to support me. 

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 25 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Breath fogs the window as you stare out of it, a grey haze has rolled over the city, the sky a sunless landscape of thick clouds and cold winds. It snowed the other day and what remains on the streets has become soot covered or murky slush. It’s nicer to stare at the white dusting on the branches of the trees below, taking in the soft peace of the afternoon.

The world has grown quieter over the past few weeks, your world at least. You can’t say the same for the hoards of people in Times Square, packed like sardines as they count down the hours for the ball to drop.

Graduation was behind you. Nearly two weeks ago you finally crossed that stage to receive your diploma. Technically the real one was still coming in the mail but it’s the symbolism that counted. All of your friends cheered as your name was called, tears of joy and relief welling up in your eyes as you did it– you finally did it!

Wanda hugged you tight afterwards, both of you letting your tears fall. She adjusted your graduation cap, decorated with a lightning bolt for Pietro. It was the first thing you did when you received your garments, to make sure a part of him was with you on such an important day. You left her arms for Peggy and Steve’s, then Sam, Natasha and Clint and then there was Bucky.

He grabbed his crutches, lifting himself up from the chair though you didn’t make him walk. A few steps closed the gap between you and you held him, your arms securing around him as a precaution as he balanced on one leg.

His smile was so beautiful as he murmured, “I’m so proud of you,” holding his gaze before you kissed tenderly, humming against his lips.

You’ve been dating ever since that day in the hospital and life couldn’t be better, especially since you and Bucky laid out some terms. From now on you would always be honest with each other, never holding back your feelings. You were a team who loved and respected each other to talk and more importantly listen.

Bucky managed well on crutches but there were still things he couldn’t do, taking for granted days he could have gone outside for a walk. Sure he had muscles, but his arms were killing him, especially on the days he had to go to the doctor for a checkup. He started physical therapy too, to keep up with strength and flexibility for the rest of his body.

It was exhausting but you were there to help him almost every step of the way. Showering was a pain though Bucky insisted on some independence, wrapping up his cast as he sat on a cold plastic chair that extended over the tub. It made him feel like he had aged 80 years but he got over it.

You did what you could to help him heal but the greatest comfort Bucky found was when you were cuddling together. He cherished those moments the most, when you held him, resting your head against his chest, or when his head was in your lap as he stretched across his couch, your fingers lazily combing through his hair.

It was the quiet moments together, crossing the threshold of intimacy in new ways. This was the slowest Bucky has ever gone since he was in middle school, swallowing a nervous gulp before asking if it was okay to hold a girl’s hand.

Life after had been a blur; his guard up, women in and out, no chance to settle, in and out, no connection, faces blend together, names are nothing more than letters on his phone for a good time, in and out. It was all noise, a constant buzzing in his head until you came into his life.

You’ve opened Bucky’s ears and the noise became sweet music. You’ve opened his heart, the melody it sings is a love song and he’s soaring. He doesn’t waste time on regrets, instead he spends each and every day getting to know you and love you in new ways.  

You celebrated Thanksgiving together, with his parents coming to your apartment so Bucky didn’t have to travel. George brought most of the food over, it wasn’t barbecue but it was just as delicious. And this year you had the time to bake a pumpkin pie.

Your days were spent working at The September Foundation up until graduation. Elena hired you for Metro-General and you start there on the first Monday of the new year. Ideally, you’d like to still volunteer when you can and knowing Tony it’s something he fully supported. Things couldn’t be better.

“Doll, are you ready?”

Bucky’s voice pulled you away from the window and you climb off his bed and into his waiting arms. The basketball shorts he wears reveals his skinny left leg, paler than the other thanks to the dry flakiness he’s still working on remedying. He was in a cast for almost three months and just got it off a few days ago. You went with him, holding his hand as he beared weight on his weak muscle after so long.

He just finished the strengthening exercises he was supposed to do every day and now he needed to shower. You both did actually since tonight was Natasha and Clint’s annual New Year’s Eve party. You pull your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind you and Bucky follows you to the bathroom. He can shower without his seat now but it doesn’t mean he didn’t want help and you happily obliged. The water ran cold by the time you actually finished and you really didn’t mind at all. Now that Bucky’s cast was off you were looking forward to getting even more physical again.

Though you showered at his place you finished getting ready at yours since you could. Living next door to your boyfriend was obviously convenient. You were able to be together and still have the space you needed. For now it worked though you can see yourself moving in together. A smile stretches across your face when you think of it, Bucky playing his music, no walls in between, a far cry from how things began.

You open your closet to find a dress that would work for the theme of this year’s party which they claimed was winter except they asked all their guests to wear either red or green. You bit your tongue, thinking that sounded more Christmas than winter but you didn’t argue, it wasn’t your party. You pulled out a crimson colored dress that had a beautiful lace overlay. The back was sheer and though it was a little short you felt it was seasonally appropriate with its long sleeves. You finished your hair and makeup, finishing off with gold chandelier earrings and peep-toe heels.

A rhythmic knock rapped at your door and you knew it was Bucky. Opening the door your jaw dropped. Maybe it was the fact that you had mostly seen him in shorts and sweatpants over the last three months, and not that he didn’t make those look good, but the outfit he was wearing now looked incredible. He looked sharp in a juniper green suit with a soft tartan design, a brighter green patterned tie stood out against his light shirt. His shoes were dark brown with a hint of mahogany that reflected in the light and even though he looked amazing you were surprised he didn’t opt for sneakers to be more comfortable with his leg.

“Fuck, you look beautiful,” he spoke first, biting his lip as he looked at you up and down.

He shaved since you left him and your hands went to cup the smooth skin of his cheek. “Not more beautiful than you.”

You pressed your lips to Bucky’s, deepening the kiss with your tongue which was probably a bad idea since it only increased your urge to rip Bucky’s suit off and take him right there. You forced yourself back from him, walking towards your couch to grab your bag.

Bucky followed you as quickly as he could considering walking still felt a little strange. His arms went around your waist pulling you closer to him as his lips began to kiss your cheek, trailing down your neck. You hummed in delight, exhaling stuttered breaths, almost losing yourself to his touch before you pulled yourself out of it.

“We can’t,” you stressed, reluctantly. “We’re gonna be late, come on.”

He sighed acceptingly, waiting for you to unplug your phone and grab your keys. Just before you were ready to leave his arms wrapped around your waist one more time and Bucky spoke before you could say anything.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The swell of your heart reached your lips as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes repeating the same words you’ve known and felt for so long. After another sweet kiss you locked up your place to take the long trip up one flight.

Clint greeted you at the door, his arms pulling you and Bucky into warm welcoming hugs. Unlike his guests, Clint was dressed in a white suit jacket, with black pants and a matching bow tie. He welcomed you into the apartment that was not filled with as many people as you expected.

There were familiar faces in your friends, including Sam who was able to take off this year. Right away Bucky teased him about his red suit calling him Elmo.

“Yeah whatever Kermit. And what about this one?” Sam teased, pointing at Steve. “That’s all you had?”

Steve blushed pink, feeling insecure about his outfit choice, a cozy forest green cable-knit sweater. “Like I’m supposed to have a fruit punch suit in my closet?”

“It’s cranberry and I look good,” Sam declared, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket.

You let the boys continue to have fun as you said hello to Wanda and Peggy, both looking beautiful in their dresses. “Where’s Natasha?”

They shook their heads. “Haven’t seen her,” Wanda said, heading towards their marble island to grab a drink.

It was decorated with a row of mason jars, each filled a quarter of the way with coarse sugar mimicking crystal snow, with a candle in every other one and a chunk of bright red cranberries and sprays of cedar leaves sticking out of the others.

“But we just got here, so I dunno,” she finished.

You were looking around for familiar guests, surely the partners of her law firm would be coming again. An older woman sat on the couch talking to another unfamiliar face, the back of their heads glowing thanks to the curtain of twinkle lights that decorated the large walls of the living room. In the corner was their Christmas tree, a tall spruce decorated with frosted pine cone garland, matte red ornaments and thick burlap ribbon.

Clint brushed passed you, kneeling in front of the older woman who looked curiously familiar. Nervous energy was pouring off of him, from the way he kept chewing his nails to the constant tremble of his leg. He smiled as he passed you again standing near the door. With Natasha still not in sight you decided to do a little digging, by way of introducing yourself.

You walked over to the woman Clint had been speaking to, standing in front of her and the two people she was mid-conversation with. The man was big, his Santa-like belly was testing the buttons of his red shirt as it stretched across the material. His eyebrows were bushy and his brown hair was long in the front, looking a little messy as if it had been brushed through with only his fingers. He had a long beard that matched the color of his hair though it had a lot more grey in it.

The woman was beautiful. The emerald top she wore brought out the green flecks of her hazel eyes and her red lips drew you right into her beautiful smile. Her dark hair was braided with a crown, the rest of the locks falling onto her shoulders.

You caught their attention, extending your hand with a smile as you introduced yourself. The older woman spoke first, her voice as soft as a songbird as she told you her name, Edith, followed by the fact that she was Clint’s mother. Well, that explains it. You see the similarities now, the glasses she wore didn’t hide the fact that they shared the same eyes. Even her mouth was the same, thin lips that grew into the same beaming smile.

“I’m Melina,” the beautiful woman said with a Russian accent. “This is Alexei.” She pointed to the man who smiled at you. His grip was strong as he took your hand in his meaty paw. “We’re like family to Natalia,” he grinned proudly.

“It’s so nice to meet you all!” you said, sitting beside them to talk all while in the back of your mind your brain was working to put together why they were here. Sure it’s a holiday but family members have never come to Clint and Natasha’s for New Years before. In fact, Natasha doesn’t even have family. The only “family” you knew of would have to come from Russia to–

Holy shit.

You find an acceptable way out of the conversation, rushing over to Bucky and pulling him away from his conversation. Your hands are jittering with excited energy, eyes as wide as your mouth is open.

“Bucky, don’t you see what this is?!”

He looks confused for a moment before his attention is diverted. Bucky looks past you to another unfamiliar person that walked in. It’s a man with brown skin dressed in all black. A dark goatee framed his face and the straps of an eye patch secure comfortably around his hairless head. Though Bucky tried not to stare he couldn’t help but notice the veining of scars stretching out across his temple and cheek. He stands tall and silent with his arms clasped behind his back waiting.

Clint cleared his throat, a nervous smile settling on his face. “Now that everyone’s here I’d like to welcome you to… our wedding.”

Gasps of surprise fill the room with everyone rushing up towards Clint as he tries to field questions, hoping no one was truly mad at the abrupt announcement. “I knew it,” you whispered under your breath, gently slapping at Bucky’s arm.

The man in black walked towards the front of the living room, clearly the officiate who asked everyone to get settled as they were about to begin. Clint knocked once on his bedroom door, before taking his place beside the man who introduced himself as Nick.

A young woman with blonde hair slipped out of the door. She nodded to him, cracking a hint of a smile before she settled next to Melina. A moment later everyone’s eyes were drawn to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open again.

Natasha stepped out looking like a dream, in a floor length shimmering ivory gown that showed off her well sculpted shoulders with its high halter neckline, embellished with beautiful beading. She clutched a delicate bouquet of white roses and winter greens with cranberry sprigs woven throughout. Natasha walked up to Clint without fanfare, just the audible sighs of those around her admiring the back of her dress, dazzling and tasteful cut outs that showed off more of her toned body. The fabric cinched above the small of her back, a small train sweeping around her feet.

She handed her bouquet off to the blonde girl, her “sister” you presumed, remembering an old conversation with Clint. Brushing back a loose tendril from her face, Natasha smiled widely as she stared at Clint, bringing her hands forward to connect with his.

Nick began speaking and you took out your phone to capture a quick picture as the impromptu ceremony began. Bucky’s hand found yours, lacing your fingers together as you watched your friends exchange their vows.

Clint’s hands communicated his words in sync as he spoke them. “Natasha, what more can I say to the person that knows me better than I know myself. Because of you the sun shines a little brighter each day, flowers have a sweeter fragrance and my heart is filled with treasured memories. Even the not so great ones like that time in Budapest that I know we remember very differently.”

A chuckle simmers amongst the small crowd and Natasha dips her head down to laugh.

“Because of you my heart found a home, and like my stomach, it will never be empty...” Clint smiled, taking Natasha’s hands in his. “...because it will always be filled with your love, a love that I promise you I will never let go.”

Natasha sniffs, brushing aside a tear as she gathers her thoughts. “Clint, you’ve given me a second chance in life, you’ve shown me what friendship and love truly mean. I promise to trust and respect you and give you the best of myself. I promise to always fight for you, never against you, to be by your side through whatever life brings. I promise to make sure we always have snacks in the house and to clean up all the stains from your shirts when you drop food on them.”

Clint’s shoulders shrugged with acceptance as he chuckled under his breath, “It happens a lot.”

“Yes it does,” Natasha repeated, smiling wider. She exhaled a deep breath before continuing. “I promise to love you through the good times and bad and to choose our love every single day. You are my best friend, my soulmate and I'm the luckiest person on Earth to be able to call you mine.”

You felt Bucky press a kiss to your temple, leaning his head against you as the ceremony continued. When it was time Alexei dug into his pocket, pulling out the rings. With Nick’s concluding words Natasha wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck, and his held her waist; their love sealed with a kiss as everyone cheered in celebration.

They pulled back from each other, Clint resting his forehead against Natasha’s. He brought his hand up, bending his middle and ring finger into his palm. Natasha did the same, their fingertips touching as they signed “I love you” before turning to face their friends and family.

Edith was the first to hug the newly married couple who made their way through everyone until they got to you. Bucky and Clint hugged as he congratulated them. “I can’t believe this.”

“I can.” Natasha laughed, pressing her cheek to Bucky’s as they hugged. She moved to you and you wrapped your arms around her tightly. “We’ve been planning this wedding for so long it was never going to happen unless we did it this way.”

“It was perfect,” you said, pulling back from your hug with a huge smile. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both.”

As the night went on you formally met Yelena, the blonde who Natasha grew up with, and learned about her exciting work. You were in similar fields as she worked to free people of human trafficking, mostly young girls that were to be indoctrinated into radical terrorist groups for forced marriage or even espionage.

Her work was more hands-on as she physically raided underground bunkers or warehouses. It made you feel like you weren’t doing enough even though you knew that wasn’t true. All the years spent working towards your goal reaffirmed that, and in just a few days you’ll officially move into your office in Metro-General, across from Elena’s as you begin doing what you’ve always wanted to do, help people.

You’re lost in a comfortable stare as you look at the Christmas tree, realizing the countdown to midnight had begun.

Ten! Nine! Eight! ...

You turn around, looking for Bucky in the small room that was crowded with everyone standing so close together, huddled around the TV that showed the view from Times Square.

Seven! Six ...

The shimmering ball was descending and you were alone until….

Five! Four! ...

“Hey neighbor…” A voice called and you spun around relieved. Bucky smiled, bringing you close into his arms.

Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!

He leaned in, his lips hovering above yours, pausing as you spoke above the roar of cheers. “Have I ever told you how happy I am that you moved in here?” you purred.

“Every day. It’s like music to my ears.”

Bucky smiled tenderly, sealing the small gap between you, kissing you softly as he poured all the love from his heart out and into yours. Your hearts beat to the rhythm of your own symphony, a song that had a rocky beginning of notes that stretched high and low, but now it was a steady ballad you would continue to create together with your love.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

College AU Week 1 Day 2 - Javier Pena

A/N: Day 2 of the January AU challenge and 300 follower celebration! I had so much fun writing this one and if you want a second smutty part I could be persuaded to do it. Thank you for every reblog, comment, and like. :) 

Pairing: Javier Pena x female reader 

Warning: 18 + (language, mentions of drug/alcohol use, reader has an ex boyfriend) 

My Masterlist 

My friend dragged me to this party, and I just saw my ex quick make out with me. 

Javier readjusted the tie in the mirror again for the twelfth time before ripping it off and opening up the top three buttons of the shirt. Tugging on his trusty leather jacket over the shirt and holstering his gun. Javier spent his life working as an on-campus security guard at the local University. Breaking up parties with underage drinking, busting students for narcotics use, and making sure they felt safe on campus. He took great pride in his job, and the pay wasn't awful. Although as he's gotten older over the last few years, he felt something was missing from his life. 

He joined some of the dating sites and apps that his buddy Steve, a history professor, suggested. Steve had met his wife, Connie, on one of the sites, and they seemed happy with their new baby girl Olivia so why not. It was a disaster. The dates were dull and expensive, each of them expecting him to dish out for them. He still slept with all of them, but nothing lasted for more than an evening of fun. It was cheaper and easier to pick someone up in a bar than find a relationship with someone. 

The newest guard at the station Daniel Van Ness had begged him to get out of the faculty party he had been assigned. Javier hated them just as much as the recruit, but by now, he had a few friends on the faculty, and it wouldn't be a total bore. He just needed to make sure no students crashed the party and that anyone who drank too much got home safe and not behind the wheel. It wasn't the most ideal event, but every dollar he made went back into the house fund. Javier had the goal of buying a house this year, and he was so close to making his goal. 

******* 

Across town, you readjusted the straps on your purple dress for the twelfth time. Faculty events were the bane of your existence. As a literature professor and the classics, you'd much rather spend the evening with a glass of whiskey, comfy couch, and a book. Instead, your friend Tata decided it would be fun if you tagged along this year. 

You hated events like these, but the President of the University insisted on these events to raise funds for the school. Although with the outrageous amount of money they collect from students and the way they badger former students for donations, the school should be rolling in the dough. 

Tata's husband was in commerce and owned a large shipping company across town. Tata ran the daycare the University used to teach students about business and childcare. She was one of the sweetest women you'd ever met, even if her husband did kind of give you the creeps. 

Your phone chimes and you smile at the party emojis from Tata and reply back that your on the way. Grabbing your black lace shawl and tossing it over your shoulders and your purse, plopping in your phone and heading for the party. Who knows, maybe it would all turn out for the better? 

Who the hell ever told you to be so optimistic? It's basically asking for trouble. The party was in full swing when you arrived. Well, as full swing as a party full of academics can be. The DJ was trying to play music people could dance to, but only a few were actually dancing, and it was mostly couples. Tata sees you instantly, and you almost groan at how effortless she looks. She's smaller than most people in the room, with cute shoulder-length brown hair that curls at the ends and a strapless purple dress with a thin see-through shawl around her shoulders. 

"You made it," she squeals and pulls you into a hug. 

You can't help but smile at her enthusiasm and return the hug, "Did you ever doubt me?" 

"Of absolutely! If I hadn't threatened to come and drag you out of that apartment, you wouldn't be here. But I am very glad you here, now Pablo owes me money, he bet against you." She grins and pinches her fingers together. 

"You and your husband had a bet to see if I would come to the faculty party?" You laugh, and she takes a sip, nodding. 

"Yes, the business has been a little slow lately, and you know my husband is always planning what's next. I needed something to keep his mind on me." 

You loved Tata, but her husband was really an asshole; you could smell the fake from a mile away. You see the bar and tell Tata you're going to get a drink, but she's already off like a butterfly floating around the room. You make your way over to the bar, order a whiskey on the rocks and take a small sip turning around the room and scoping out the scene. 

Your eyes lock in on the movement in the corner. From the shadows emerges, someone new from the usual faculty crowd. He's tall and broad as hell in a black leather jacket thrown over a light blue button-up the top three buttons undone exposing his chest, tucked into dark wash jeans. You observe the holster around his waist tucked under the coat and the badge. He must be campus security, and it's almost like he can feel your eyes on him. He looks up from the shadows, and your eyes meet. 

Holy fuck. 

His eyes captivate you and suck you in like the swirling vortex of a tornado. Sucking you in deeper and deeper into his soul. It's electric. You see his lips curve up in a small smile, and his mustache rises, and all you can imagine is how it would feel against your lips if you kissed him. He takes a step in your direction, and you move a step closer before someone is shouting your name. You freeze and turn, looking at the door, mouth agape. 

Your ex-boyfriend Roberto Ramos is striding over to you wearing tan dress pants and a blue and white striped polo. You grimace, looking back over towards the handsome stranger and then back at Poison. Tata's little nickname she came up with after you broke up and realized how honestly much of a scumbag he was. You make the split decision, and place down your drink and walk quickly over to the guard. He raises one eyebrow as you race over to him. 

You throw your arms around his neck, and he places his on your waist. "Save me, please," you whisper, looking at him with wide eyes, "that's my ex over there, and I really want him to leave me alone. If it looks like we're here together, he won't approach." 

"That one?" he nods, and you try to look over the corner of your eye and see Poison freeze watching you. You shake a yes and smile at the guard. "Seems like a fascinating guy," he deadpans, and you laugh, making him smile down at you. "What do you need me to do? Get rid of him? He's just staring at us." He whispers conspiratorially, grinning at you. 

"Kiss me," the words are out of your mouth before you can think, "make out with me, and he will leave me alone." His smile drops, and he looks between your eyes and lips before nodding. His head drops, and he tentatively connects his lips with your own. He presses once then twice, taking a step closer to you and running his fingers up your neck and dipping your head back, deepening the kiss. 

You gasp and grasp the lapels of his leather jacket, his arms winding around your shoulders and pulling you even closer, no space between you. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, and you open, feeling him lick inside your mouth. His tongue tangling up with your own. You moan lowly, and he takes a step further into the shadows and into the hallway away from the party. Your back connects with the wall, and you let out a small grunt before you run your fingers through his hair and tug gently. He groans and pushes a knee between your legs spreading them—your panties rubbing against the fabric of his jeans. The feeling between your legs is enough to snap you back to reality. 

"Wait," you pull away panting, he drops his head to your shoulder, letting out hurried breaths before he slowly raises his eyes, resting his forehead against yours. 

"Too much?" he asks, nervously chuckling. 

"Not enough, to be honest," you look into his eyes and smile. "That was...fucking amazing, but we shouldn't really have sex across the hall from a faculty party." 

His cute little eyebrow raises again, "Oh, is that where this was headed? I thought you just needed me to escape your ex?" 

You laugh, "Well, if he doesn't get the hint now, I think I may need to file a restraining order." 

"I can help you with that if you need it," you smile and kiss him again, loving the feel of his mustache brushing against your lip. 

"I don't think he will be a problem anymore, but...maybe I am a little nervous about going home right now, ya know, in case he shows up…" 

"Well, we can't have that. Would you like to maybe spend the night over at my place?" You match his smile and nod, "for safety, right?" 

"Oh yeah, for safety," you take his hand, and he intertwines your fingers. 

"I need to stay till the end of the party for work," he looks down at his watch, "we got about two hours. Do you think you can make it that long?" 

"Can I stay near you?" he nods, and raises your intertwined hands to his lips, and kisses your knuckles. 

"On one condition," he teases, "you have to tell me your name." You laugh, letting him know your name, and he smiles, telling you his. Javier Pena. The name rolls off your tongue, and he groans before kissing you again. "This is going to be the longest two hours of my life." 

"Well, if you make it through this party, I can tell you the after-party will be much for enjoyable." He moans, and his eyes darken. 

"I can't wait." 

Taglist: @josepedropascal​ @mrschiltoncat​ @mrsparknuts​ @ghostwiththemostbitch​ @zannemes​ @oldstuffnewstuff​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @heythere-mel​ @justanotherblonde23​ @artsymaddie​ @anetteaneta​ @lunarthoughts​ @aellynera​ @lucifer-​ @houseofthirst​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @chicken-ona-stick​ 

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - v (King!Steven x Reader)

Chapter Summary: Two months after the reader’s marriage to King Steven, she learns what appears to be the truth hidden in the dungeon. 

Warnings: description of wounds, anxiety, no Steve in this chapter, talks of infertility

Word Count: 2.5k

<-Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

Weeks after your marriage and the coronation that took place soon after, the crown still sat heavy at the top of your head. The weight would nearly be unbearable if it weren’t for your husband who ruled by your side. The smiles on your faces were never forced and life began to settle into an easy, steady pace. However, as the people grew accustomed to calling you their queen, they increasingly became impatient and displeased when two months has passed, and you still weren’t with child. The Rogers’ line would stop and end with Steven if he were to die without an heir.

You worried about your competency. Among the many duties of the queen, providing heirs was at the top of that list and you were still unsuccessful. However, King Steven sought to be your rock in this troubling time with your wavering confidence, assuring you that you both had a lifetime of providing heirs and to not rush it.  

Even with the king’s constant assurance and kind words, you still felt like a failure.

The children of the orphanage cheered as soon as you walked through the building’s threshold. The little ones ran up to you and clung at your legs, nearly knocking you over if it weren’t for Natasha’s quick hands that shot out and steadied you. You laughed as you decided to crouch down to be eye-level with the children and opened your arms out to let them hug you. It was Sister Mary, the woman in charge of the orphanage, who disbanded the children and told the little ones to leave you be. The little ones dispersed – some going in the back gardens to play in the fountain your husband donated years ago, others playing in the courtyard, while some played inside.

One of the little girls, Abagail, took your hand and eagerly led you to her toys. You didn’t miss the way that Sister Mary eyed your midsection to peak if you would be showing any signs of a pregnancy. You saw her face fall with disappointment she realized you still had the same body as you did during the coronation.

“Everyone really wants you to have a baby,” Abagail whispered to you. You smiled at her and nodded. “Sister Mary keeps talking about how you disappoint the king because you aren’t pregnant.”

Your smile fell slightly as you listened to the little girl. She was young – you remembered Sister Mary telling you she was six on your first visit. She didn’t really know boundaries yet. “Really?” You asked.

“Yes… she says how the king’s wives are cursed with infertility and how the king grows angry and eventually kills – “

“Abagail!” Sister Mary called the little girl’s attention. The woman comes over and ushers the little girl away but the girl stood her ground. “I’m sorry, your grace. The little ones have such vivid imaginations.”

“I, too, have vivid imaginations.” You stood and shook your head. “Abby meant no harm, did you?” She shook her head with a pout as Sister Mary tells her to play with the children outside. As soon as Abagail was out of earshot, you took a step towards Sister Mary and gave her a smile. “Children are innocent. They only repeat what they hear. I only hope that you teach the children the truth. Because what she was about to say is defamatory towards the king. And I wonder how the king would tolerate such slander.”

“Of course, your grace.” She bowed her head, but her words weren’t true. She was only saying them out of duty – not respect. You were about to retaliate when Wanda called your attention.

“Your majesty,” Wanda spoke up. Your two ladies noticing the tension between you and the nun. “We should journey back to the castle. The king must be eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

“Yes.” You nodded. You glanced at Sister Mary once more and gave her another smile before making your way to the carriage.

“I only hope for your sake, your grace, that it is only rumors.” You stopped in your tracks and swallowed. You frowned as you told Natasha and Wanda that you’d meet them outside. The two ladies hesitantly walked out. You turned and glared at the nun.

“Pardon?”

“The king is cruel,” her voice was hushed but her face feigned respect and politeness. Her smile was teasing as if she knew something you didn’t. “Or at least that’s what the rumors say.” She stared at you with cold eyes and no fear. She wasn’t afraid that she was speaking out against the king in front of her queen. She believed she told the truth.

“Watch your tongue.” You snapped. A few of the children’s heads popped up at your tone. You took a deep breath to compose yourself. You didn’t want to make a scene, but the crone overstepped. “You are speaking of my husband, your king… Watch. Your. Tongue, Sister Mary.”

Sister Mary reached out suddenly and seized your wrists as she examined the now faded cuts. “I see these every time you come… I can’t help but wonder where they came from.”

“They’re not from the king. Not that it’s your business.” You muttered, snatching your hands away. “Steven is a good man and has proven to be a great king. How dare you speak of him – “

“Are you saying that to convince me or yourself? I’ve lived long under King Steven’s rule, girl. I’ve been here since Margaret and since Sharon. I’ve seen the haunted looks on their faces. I wonder how long it will be until the king breaks you down, too. And here they call the Thanos the Mad King when Brooken has harbored one for years.”

You were speechless and shaking with rage. You bit on your tongue, hard – so hard that you tasted the metallic taste of your own blood – before you turned away and rushed out. Natasha and Wanda were already in the carriage when Ser Pietro helped you in.

“What happened?” Natasha asked.

You were silent as you wiped your hands on your skirts. The carriage jostled a bit as the horses began to move. Natasha and Wanda glanced over at each other after several minutes of silence. Your irritation and anger evident in the lines of your frown as you drifted off into your mind.

The king had been nothing but kind to you in your time together. Each and every day as you both grew closer to one another, he had proven the rumors wrong. You believed he was misrepresented in York – that the servants created an image of a monster to justify the war between the North. Steven had shown you no cruelty – aside from the prisoners in the dungeon. But they were traitors who conspired against their king. Even your father would’ve shown them no mercy. It was what a king had to do… right?

“(Y/N)…” Your head snapped up and met Wanda’s concerned stare. She reached out and grabbed your hand, which you hadn’t realized had been rubbing the skin of your wrist raw. “You’ll reinjure your wrist. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” you muttered.

“The old crone is well, old. Don’t take her words to heart.” Natasha encouraged. “The king has been nothing but a delight has he not?”

“He has, indeed.” You nodded.

“And again, your father wouldn’t have married you off to a cruel monster.” Wanda piped up. She gave your hand a tight squeeze and offered you a smile. “Sister Mary’s like everyone else… They just can’t wait until your belly swells with a child. Brooken has waited long enough.”

“I’m not quite sure if I’m … able.” You confessed. Wanda and Natasha scoffed in response. The two girls babbled on about it being too soon to tell. “It’s been two months since the marriage. Steven and I have shared our bed for two months now and I’m still not pregnant. I’m afraid I’m a disappointment to all.”

“Don’t say that.” Natasha waved her hand. “Two months is too soon to tell, (Y/N). Besides, you heard what the doctors, the midwives, the maesters say. There’s certain periods throughout the month that make chances of conception optimal. Just because you two go at it nightly,” you flushed at her words as you stuttered a rebuttal. She held her hand up to silence you. “We’ve heard it all. Big castle, thick walls. But we’ve heard.”

“Nat – “you groaned. Your hands covered your face, bashfully.

You three laughed at your embarrassment. Natasha giggled and leaned over to grab your hand. “You needn’t worry… It’ll happen in time.”

“I hope you’re right.”

»————-　⚜　————-««

As soon as your ladies and you arrived to the castle, you were immediately greeted by Lord Rumlow and Pierce.

“I trust the visit to the orphanage went well?” Lord Pierce asked you as he bowed.

“It was lovely as it always is.” You grinned at the two lords. You wondered why they were awaiting for your arrival – or why they were speaking to you at all. Lord Pierce didn’t like you, or at least you believed he didn’t because of how he wasn’t as welcoming as Lord Barnes or Lord Wilson. Lord Rumlow simply always gave you a bad feeling just by standing beneath his stare. You knew of Steven’s distaste for the two men – especially Brock, who was next in line due to being Steven’s next blood relative. “What have I done to have you two bless me with your presence?”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed slightly at your words. They were teasing and sarcastic. He definitely saw your father in you. “We have urgent matters to discuss with the queen.” He glanced over at Natasha and Wanda who were watching the two men warily with curious frowns. “Alone, of course. It’s a matter of the council.”

“Shouldn’t my husband be in charge of this then?” You asked.

Lord Rumlow shook his head. “The new Brooken Queen must know of this matter as well. The king is very much versed.”

“Very well.” You nodded. “You may go.” You told your ladies. You exchanged confused glances before turning to the men. “Lead the way, gentlemen.”

“Of course.” Alexander nodded. He glanced over at Brock who offered you his arm and you hesitantly took it.

The walk was awkward to say the least. The two men weren’t the most ideal conversationalist and the curious stares of the servants as you passed by them did not help. Were you being led into a trap?

“Does my cousin treat you right?” Lord Rumlow asked suddenly as they turned into a familiar corridor. Your brows shot up when you realized they were leading you towards the dungeon.

“Yes, of course. King Steven has been nothing but a blessing in these past two months.” You said, honestly. You had no reason to doubt it, either.

“And the marriage… consummated?” Lord Pierce asked.

“Yes.” You answered. The two men glanced at one another as they slowly descended the steps that led to the dungeon. “Where are we going?”

“We’re acquainting you with what Steven really is…” Lord Pierce answered ominously. Your frown deepened as you tried to pull your arm away from Brock’s, but the Lord tightened his grip on you.

“Unhand me.” You ordered.

“I can’t, (Y/N).” He muttered as he pulled you along.

The men pulled you into the hall. The barred prisons with badly shaped men welcomed you. The stench assaulted your nostrils and nearly made you vomit. You passed by a man, huddled in the corner. He was asleep – or at least you hoped he was – and his mouth was wide open allowing his drool to escape. He had no teeth and his gums were bloody.

You gasped, taking a step back. You felt someone grab at your skirts. You let out a shriek as another man, so skinny you saw his ribs, grabbed at the bottom of your dress through the bars. His fingernails had been ripped off, bits of his skin seemed to have been flayed.

“What is this?” You snapped.

“Sharon?” One of the prisoners asked, his voice quaking. The vocal chords dry. You frowned, feeling your heart drop.

“These are the men that the king has imprisoned.” Pierce explained. “Good men, for the most part.”

“Steven wouldn’t have imprisoned these men for being good. There must’ve been a reason.” You argued. “Steven’s a good king.”

“Look at these men and tell me what good man would torture men to this degree?” Lord Pierce inquired. You shook your head.

“Steven said these men are traitors. He wants a bright future for Brooken and he imprisoned traitors who conspire against him. He only tortures because he… he’s looking for those who are plotting against the king.” Your voice broke as you began to shake. Tears threaten to spill but you held them in. You didn’t want to cry in front of these men  –  you didn’t want to look weak. You pried your hand from Brock’s grip and stumbled backwards.

“These men’s only crime was that the queen favored them.” Brock explained, grimly. “Sharon was a jewel … Young, tall, beautiful. Men grew fascinated with her and wanted the queen’s favor over the king’s. In a jealous rage, the king imprisoned those who preferred his wife.”

“No – “

“Sharon?” Another voice called. Drier than the other man.

“These men are haunted from what they’ve witnessed. Do you know what happened to Queen Sharon?” Brock asked. “Or Queen Margaret?”

“They died tragic deaths but not at the king’s hands!” You snapped. The two men stood silently as they shook their heads. They stared at you with pity as you peered through the prison. You’ve been to York’s prisons once – maybe twice – and they weren’t in this condition. The men weren’t starved, tortured. They were fed properly until their trials. “Why are you doing this?”

“You must know the monster that sits on the throne next to you.” Pierce said. “Do you know what happened to the two queens before you?”

“No.” You gave in to what they wanted. If they wanted to explain, so be it. “No, I do not.” Why was everyone tearing down the happiness you were building now after two months? Why wouldn’t anyone tell you before?

“Queen Margaret and the king fought relentlessly for months. He needs heirs. She didn’t want to bear a child. They fought and fought. Until one day, the king finally had enough of her. He stabbed her through the heart in the throne room. No one saw except for the council. No one knew how to react. No one wanted to act out against the king. So, we watched her bleed out on the floor as she stared at the man she loved, who took away her life.

Queen Sharon was defiant. She refused to sleep in the same bed chamber as the king. He needed an heir. She steadily turned him away. These men,” Pierce gestured to the prisoners, “all wanted favor with the queen. Steven thought she was attempting to start a coup against him. When it was proven she was not, it made him believe that these men were her lovers. So, in an act of cruelty, the king beheaded her in front of them.” He pointed to where you were standing – in the center of the room where all could see you. “Right where you’re standing.”

“That’s the man you married, Queen (Y/N).” Brock said. “That’s the true King Steven.”

Your eyes watered, but still, you refused to cry. “I’d like to leave now.”

“We will accompany you, then.” Lord Rumlow nodded. He offered his arm again but you refused. You turned around, ignoring the pleas and the begs from the prisoners and walked up the stairs in silence.

You winced as the bright sunlight welcomed you, contrasting with the darkness of the dungeon. You turned to the two men and bowed your head as they bowed to you. “Thank you for this ... er... eyeopening excursion, my lords.” You felt your voice crack at the end but you remained calm. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“Likewise, your grace.” Pierce nodded before you walked off.

Unbeknownst to you, King Steven was peering around the corner and his fists were shaking with rage.

[avengerscompound]

Running to a Standstill - 13

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2646

Rating:  E

Warnings: Smut (MMF bisexual threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, come play if you squint)

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers.  While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 13

Bucky held back as Steve rushed over to you.  It was rare that either he or Steve felt helpless, but that feeling was particularly strong right now.  They'd promised to keep you and Geo safe and the first time you go out of the tower someone tailed you.  Someone they didn't catch.  Tony has lost them in the library before a chase had even started. No one knew who they were working for or what they wanted with you or Geo.  They were helpless.

Steve had said this incident might make you run again and Bucky wouldn't blame you.  If it was him he would too.  It would also make sense.  Bucky had started to feel happy and at home for the first time since he broke HYDRA’s brainwashing because of the relationship with you and Steve.  Actually happy.  Not just neutral or not afraid.  Of course, it wasn’t going to last.  He didn't get to have that.

Steve cradled your jaw and looked you over.  “You're safe?  Did they hurt you?”

“I'm fine.  He was just following us and Happy acted quickly,” you said.  “Did Tony catch them, do you know?”

Steve shook his head.  “He said there was no sign of him when he followed the guy inside.  He's still there looking but it's such a big building and he never got a good look at whoever it was in the first place.”

“They know I'm here,” you said, as Geo started to whine in the backseat of the car.  Bucky went over to help Happy get him out of the seatbelt.  “They're never going to leave me alone.  I know you don’t…”

“No,” Steve said.  “I obviously don't want you to go.  And you're safe here.  We’re going to get to the bottom of this. I promise you.  So don't run… Please…”

The last word was delivered so differently from the others it made Bucky look around in shock.  He had been in full Cap mode for most of it, telling you confidently what was going to happen.  The ‘please’ however, was a heartfelt pleading for you to stay.  It was laced with both fear and sadness and Bucky hadn’t heard that tone from Steve for a long time.

“Bug-key,” Geo whined, kicking his legs.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Bucky said, unbuckling Geo from the back of the car.  “Let me help you out.”

He unbuckled Geo and got him out of the back of the car.  “I god books.  You wanna see?”  Geo asked.

“Sure do,” Bucky said.  “Where are they?”

Happy got the books out of the back of the car as Geo started babbling about Tony and FRIDAY and the robot suit.  Bucky’s attention was still on you and Steve as he tried to convince you to stay.

You slowly nodded and moved into Steve’s arms and he closed them around you, holding you close to his chest.  “Alright,” he said.  “It’s alright.  I’ve got you.”

“I’ll head up and give my report,” Happy said, handing the books to Bucky.

“Thanks, man,” Bucky said.  “Thanks for keeping her safe.”

“Just doing my job,” Happy said and headed to the elevator.

“Alright,” Steve said.  “Let’s get you upstairs.”

The four of you went up to Steve’s apartment and Bucky took a seat on the couch with Geo in his lap as the little boy went through the pictures of every book he had.  You and Steve sat on the two recliners and you curled your legs up under you like you were trying to make yourself seem smaller.

“I think you might need to stay with her from now on, Buck,” Steve said, getting out a tablet.  “Happy was great but if this is people with some performance-enhancing drugs are tailing her, she’s going to need one of us.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if that was the answer but he didn’t want to say.  He wanted you to be safe above everything but if he was assigned as your bodyguard, it would mean spending time with you became his job and he didn’t ever want to think of you like that.

Thankfully you voiced his thoughts for him.  “Steve, I don’t think Bucky’s job should be spending time with me,” you said.  “Besides, I don’t want to live like that either.  I should be able to just be able to go out.”

“I know,” Steve said, running his hands through his hair.  “I know this isn’t ideal.  None of this is ideal, but I don’t want to lose you and it won’t be permanent.  We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

You sighed, and sank back into the couch, rubbing your temples.

“How about we order some dinner and have a nice quiet night in?”  Steve suggested, getting to his feet.  “I’ll go run a bath for you and you can relax for a while and then we’ll eat, watch a movie, and put this all behind us.”

Bucky watched Steve go into the bathroom and looked back at you.  “I wish I had the kind of faith he does,” you said.

Bucky let out a puff of breath.  Not quite a laugh but almost.  “He’s just good at faking it,” he said and shook his head.  “We don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go either,” you said.  “I don’t … but they never stop and I’m a target here.  What would you do?”

“Honestly?”  He said and bounced Geo on his knee.  “I would have gone already.  I know what it’s like, you know?  I got out of HYDRA and I ran.  I was on the run for two years and Steve tracked me down.  He can be pretty determined.”

“Tell me about it,” you scoffed.

Bucky chuckled.  “Which means when he says he’s going to get to the bottom of it and keep you safe.  He will.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and slowly exhaled.  “Right.  You’re right.  I’ll sit tight.  It hasn’t been long and at least Geo has some kind of stability.”

“Yeah, that’s right, bud,” Bucky said.  “You like it here don’t you?”

“Yep,” Geo said.  “FWIDAY is weading to me.”

“Is she?” Bucky chuckled.  “What a nice AI.”

“Yep,” Geo agreed.

You got up and stretched. “Alright,” you said.  “I’m making a drink and trying this bath thing.”

Bucky held out his hand to you and you took it and squeezed before heading into the kitchen.  He sat reading with Geo for a little while before Steve returned.  He came up behind Bucky and kissed him on the crown of his head.  It was the first really simple intimate boyfriend gesture Steve had made and it made Bucky smile and a warmth spread through him from the inside out.  He looked up into Steve’s blue eyes.

“What shall we order for dinner?”  Steve asked.

“How about I just cook,” Bucky said.  “I like doing it anyway.”

“You sure?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” he put, Geo onto the couch and got up.  “You want mac and cheese, Gee?”

“Yes, pwease,” Geo said.

Bucky went into the kitchen and started on dinner.  He had time so he thought he’d try his hand at Coq au vin.  He’d made similar things in the past and even though it was a relatively simple recipe, he was hoping it struck a balance between romantic and comforting.

While it was in the oven, he made mac and cheese for Geo, hiding little pieces of broccoli and cauliflower in it.

“It smells so good out here,” you said, coming out of the bathroom in your robe.  “I thought we were ordering in?”

“Felt like cooking,” Bucky said as you came in behind him in the kitchen.  You looked over at Geo.  He was sitting on the floor with his tablet, totally focused on his game, and you took the opportunity to kiss Bucky’s neck and run your hand over his ass.  He smiled and turned, quickly pecking your lips.  He was really enjoying being a boyfriend again, and he couldn’t wait for you to feel ready to let Geo know, though he understood completely about not wanting him to get too attached to the idea that the three of you were together.

“I could definitely get used to that,” you said.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to get used to…” he trailed off not sure how to end the sentence.

“What just happened?” You chuckled.

“I was gonna say something dirty, but I think I’m out of practice,” he said.

You started laughing and rubbed his shoulder.  “You can do something dirty to me later to make up for it.”

After dinner, you put Geo to bed and the three of you sat cuddled up together on the couch watching a movie called Stardust.  Bucky was enjoying it, but not as much as he liked the intimacy of holding and being held by you and Steve.  He liked how the three of you shared kisses and gentle touches as you watched.  He had been a boyfriend before, but it was so long ago that it felt like it had happened to someone else.  This felt new and exciting.

As the credits rolled Steve stretched and switched off the TV.  “Shall we go to bed?”

“I think that would be a very good idea,” you agreed.

Bucky followed the two of you into the bedroom and as soon as he closed the door Steve pulled you into a deep and hungry kiss.  Bucky stepped up behind you and Steve pulled back from you and drew Bucky into a kiss.  You started to unfasten Steve’s shirt and you pushed it off his shoulders.  As Bucky and Steve kissed you kissed your way down Steve’s chest and down his stomach.  Steve pulled back and looked down at you.  The pale blue in his eyes was blown out black with lust.

Bucky took a deep breath and crouched down behind you as you started unfastening Steve’s belt.  You turned your head and kissed him.  Your tongue coaxed Bucky’s lips apart and he brought his tongue out and circled it with yours.  You swirled them together graphically like it wasn’t just a kiss between you and Bucky but it was also for Steve.  Steve watched you both as he unfastened his pants and pushed them down.  His cock sprang up against him, long and thick and as perfect as the rest of his body.  Steve’s hands went to both yours and Bucky’s heads.  Bucky moaned softly into your lips at the soft tug on his scalp and he pulled back a little.  You took Steve’s cock in your hand and pumped it, your eyes locked onto Bucky’s.  He leaned in and you followed, so that you were both kissing over the length of Steve’s cock.  Steve groaned and his hand tightened in Bucky’s hair.  You and Bucky kissed graphically up and down Steve’s shaft.  Your tongues swirled together, massaging it and licking up the salty pre-come that leaked from the head.

Bucky had never done anything like this before and it was making him rock hard.  He knew he liked it when he got his dick sucked, he hadn’t expected that he’d liked doing it as much as he was.

You started sucking on the head of Steve’s cock and Bucky ran his tongue down the shaft and over his balls.  He ran his metal hand up Steve’s stomach, tracing the flawless skin and running over the hills and valleys of his muscles.  His other hand he used to explore your body.  He teased your breasts and ran his hand down into your pants and began to finger your clit.

You moaned and bobbed your head up and down on Steve’s cock faster.  Bucky hummed and sucked on one of Steve’s balls as he thrust two fingers inside of you and began to fuck you with them.  Both you and Steve began to pant.  Steve pulled back and cupped your jaw, guiding you back up into a kiss as he took Bucky’s hand and guiding him to his feet too.

Bucky ran his hands down to your hips and pushed your pants down.  At the same time, Steve broke the kiss and lifted your shirt up over your head.

Steve picked you up and carried you to the bed, laying you down on the mattress.  He pulled your panties down and off, and moved between your legs and began to lap at your folds.  Bucky began to undress as he watched you.  He was achingly hard and it was almost a relief to finally push his jeans off.  When he was naked, he moved up next to Steve, pushing your legs a little wider.  He brought his head in and began flicking his tongue with Steve’s over your dripping cunt.  The salty tart fluids coated Bucky’s tongue as he danced it with Steve’s.  Your moans got louder and louder and your cunt dripped more and more.  Your hands bunched into the sheets and you arched your back.  Bucky gazed up at you, watching the way your muscles clenched and contorted as your orgasm got closer and closer.  Bucky sucked on your clit and Steve pushed two of his fingers inside you and twisted his wrist and you came, crying out and arching hard off the bed.

Bucky couldn’t take it anymore.  He scrambled up between your legs, barely even giving Steve a chance to get out of the way.  He brought his lips to yours and lined himself up and sunk deep into the wet warmth of your cunt.  You both moaned into the kiss and Steve moved up behind him.  Steve began to rut against Bucky’s ass as Bucky thrust into you.  The feel of Steve’s cock moving against him, leaving a sticky trail from the small of his back to the crack of his ass, added to the pleasure Bucky was feeling.  His cock throbbed inside you and he pulled back and leaned against Steve, turning his head slightly as he panted and thrust hard into you again and again.

Steve captured his lips and reached around his waist and began to rub your clit.  “Fuck!”  You mewled, bucking your hips in time with Bucky’s thrusts.  Bucky’s hips began to stutter and his cock twitched.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, breaking the kiss with Steve.  “‘M Close.”

“Me too,” you moaned, arching your back.

Steve pinched your clit and you cried out as your orgasm crashed down on you.  Your cunt squeezed tight around his shaft, milking it.  Bucky groaned and snapped his hips forward and came with a low groan.

“Steve,” you moaned, gesturing to him.

Steve moved around to you and you pulled his cock into your mouth.  You bobbed your head up and down and tugged on his balls.  Bucky watched on, slipping from inside you and lying down so he was spooned around you and you sucked Steve’s cock.  Bucky reached over and teased his fingers over Steve’s ass and with a loud groan Steve’s balls tightened and he came into your mouth.

You moaned, holding his cock in your mouth until it still and you rolled over and brought your lips to Bucky’s, pushing some of the thick salty liquid into his mouth.  It was one of the dirtiest things Bucky had ever experienced but somehow it had this strange level of intimacy too.  It was dirty yet sexy and Bucky loved it.  He swallowed it down and fell back onto the mattress with a contented sigh.

“Holy shit,” you hummed.

“Yeah,” Steve said.  “We’re getting pretty good at that.”

Bucky watched your face as you tried not to laugh.  You couldn’t hold it though.  You snorted and broke down into giggles.  That was all it took for Bucky to start laughing too, and he knew, he was going to do everything he could to hold on to this.

// NEXT

[inthelonelycoolbeforedawn]

tw: mentions of past animal abuse (nothing graphic and not portrayed in the fic itself)

Harringrove April Day 10: Peaches

Steve couldn't contain a smile as he stepped out onto the deck. Billy was sprawled in their double lounge chair, sunglasses on, Lemmy and Cookie flopped next to him.

"Hey," Steve said. "You gonna sleep all day?"

"Got bored waiting for you." Flashing a grin, Billy hooked his arm around Steve's waist and tugged. "C'mere. Celebrate with me."

"Nuh-uh," Steve said, planting one hand on the chair to regain his balance. "Dogs in the house, then I'll celebrate with you."

Billy heaved a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Hurry up."

Laughing, Steve called Lemmy and Cookie inside and slid the door shut. He felt a bit guilty about disturbing their nap, but he and Billy hadn't had much time to themselves in the last couple of weeks.

Besides, they had a lot to celebrate.

After eight years in L.A. they were both ready for a change. They weren't sure exactly what they wanted, but when they found a house away from the city on three acres of land, with a big yard for the dogs and an easy drive to the beach, they decided to buy it. They cashed in their savings and the last bit of settlement money from Starcourt, signed the papers making the house theirs, and officially moved in two days ago.

"Sorry, guys," he said, scratching the silky black-and-white fur between Cookie's ears. "We'll make it up to you. You want some treats?"

Both Lemmy's and Cookie's ears perked up at the word treat. But where Lemmy's bright eyes and barely wagging tail were his only indications of excitement, Cookie was practically bouncing up and down on her three legs, her entire body wriggling. Steve laughed and gave them both another pat before reaching for the box of dog biscuits.

A flash of movement by the window caught his eye, and his grip on the box instinctively tightened as he looked out to see what it was.

There was a small brown-and-white pony in their driveway, its thick mane flopping into its eyes as it snuffled at the ground.

Steve watched it for a minute, then went back to get Billy. "Um, Billy? Come see this."

Billy pulled his sunglasses off. "What?"

He hurried after Steve, and Steve pointed out the window.

"The hell?" Billy said.

"We should try to catch him," Steve said. "He could get hit by a car or something if he's running around loose like that."

"Yeah," Billy said. "I guess we can get him tied up somewhere and call animal control."

They went out the side door so they were ahead of the pony. It ignored them, taking a few steps and dropping its head again to mouth at some weeds.

"Here, uh - " Steve frowned. "Boy? Girl? Horse? Here, horsey, nice horsey."

"It's not a dog," Billy said. "Let's just try grabbing him. He doesn't look very fast."

They took a few cautious steps towards it. The pony lifted its head, nostrils flaring, but didn't move.

Steve and Billy inched closer.

The pony snorted and broke into a trot. Steve and Billy lunged for it, but that made it run faster. They stopped so they wouldn't chase it onto the road and watched it.

"Maybe he's hungry," Billy said. "Do we have anything he would eat?"

"Oh, yeah!" Steve spoke louder than he'd meant to. The pony looked up and moved farther away. "Oops." Lowering his voice again, he continued. "Carrots. I think horses like carrots. Go get them, babe." 

Once Billy returned with their longest dog leash and a bag of carrots, they each took one.

"Here, pony," Steve said.

"You hungry, little guy?" Billy said.

The pony looked at them, tail swishing.

They crept towards it, getting closer than they had before. The pony was watching them intently.

"Nice pony," Steve said, almost whispering. "Who's a good pony?"

"Steve," Billy said, his own voice quiet. "Go right."

They split off, approaching the pony from both sides. The pony stomped its foot but didn't move. They were almost close enough to grab it.

Holding his breath, Steve stretched his arm out a little farther. The pony snorted again, then reached out to take the carrot from his hand. Billy grabbed its halter while it was chewing.

"Got you," he said.

The pony flinched and quickly backed up a couple of steps, but when Steve grasped the other side of its halter, it stopped and stood, trembling.

"Hey, it's okay," Billy said. "You're okay."

"Good pony," Steve said.

Slowly and carefully, they looped the leash through one of the halter rings and secured it with the clip.

Now that it was caught, the pony seemed willing to follow them. They led it to the deck and tied the leash around a post.

Steve gave the pony a tentative pat on the neck. "One of us should probably stay here. Keep an eye on him."

"I will," Billy said. "Just, maybe grab some water for him? And the carrots?"

"Oh, yeah," Steve said. "All that fur, he's probably thirsty."

Billy grinned. "You know, he reminds me of Henderson, with all that hair in his eyes."

"He does not look like Dustin," Steve said, although he secretly agreed.

He retrieved the bag of carrots, then filled a big cooking pot at the kitchen sink and managed to carry it outside without spilling any. The pony stood quietly as Billy worked at a tangle in its shaggy mane.

"Wow," Steve said. "He's really calmed down."

"Yeah," Billy said.

"Well." Steve paused, not sure why he suddenly felt like he was doing something wrong. "I'm gonna go call. I'll be back soon."

Lemmy and Cookie crowded around him, and he petted them absently as he flipped through the phone book.

"It must have an owner," he said. "I bet it belongs to some little kid who'll be really happy to see their pony again, right, guys?"

Cookie licked his hand and Lemmy's tail beat against the floor.

Steve sighed. "Right."

He lifted the receiver and dialed the number for animal control.

A few phone calls later he headed back outside. He found Billy sitting in front of the pony, stroking its nose, a soft smile on his lips. The pony's head was lowered almost to his lap, its eyes half-closed.

It reminded him of the times he'd come home to find Billy and Lemmy, napping or reading or watching TV, Billy's hand resting on Lemmy's scarred side and Lemmy's massive, brindled head resting on Billy's scarred chest.

He stood there a minute, watching, before sitting down next to them.

Billy glanced over. "I gave him more carrots. Guess he's happy."

"Yeah, looks like," Steve said. "Oh, and uh, it's actually a girl horse. Her name's Peaches."

"Peaches?" Billy repeated. "Figures it'd be something stupid."

"I don't know, it's kind of cute," Steve said.

Billy stopped petting Peaches and turned to face him. "So. I guess that means you found her owner?"

"Yeah." Steve picked at the hem of his shorts as he spoke. "Animal control said there was a missing horse reported, and put me in touch with her, and - anyway, she's coming to pick her up."

"Oh." Billy looked away. "That was fast."

They sat in silence until the dogs barking and tires crunching on the driveway alerted them to Peaches' owner's arrival.

Steve squeezed Billy's hand, then got up to greet her. He came around the corner of the house just as a young woman climbed out of a pickup truck with a trailer attached, holding a halter and a thick, neatly coiled rope.

"Hi," the woman called. "I'm Nina. I'm here for Peaches."

"I'm Steve." He shook hands with her, then gestured towards the yard. "She's out back."

"So, you're new here?" Nina said as they walked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "We just moved, actually. How'd you know?"

"It's been empty for a while." She smiled. "I drive this way a lot. Our place is only a couple miles from here."

Billy was still sitting with Peaches when they rounded the corner, but he stood up when he saw them. Steve hurried to his side as Nina introduced herself to Billy, then turned to the pony.

"Peaches!" she said. "Hi, sweet girl. Oh, you scared us."

She gave the pony a quick once-over. Satisfied, she clipped the rope to Peaches' halter and handed the dog leash to Steve.

"Thank you for taking such good care of her," she said with a warm smile. "We were worried sick when she got loose. She's had such a tough time, poor girl."

"What happened?" Steve asked.

Nina's smile faded, her lips tightening into a thin line. "Her last owners weren't very nice to their animals. She developed back problems and couldn't be ridden anymore so they just threw her out in a pasture and left her to fend for herself. Luckily someone called us before it was too late."

"She's a rescue?" Billy said softly.

"Yes," Nina said. "Honestly, I'm surprised she let you catch her. She's still skittish around strangers." She patted the pony's shoulder. "She must like you two."

"Well." Steve ran a hand through his hair. "At least she's safe now, right?"

"Oh, she'll for sure have a home with us if she needs it," Nina said. "But we're a horse rescue. New horses are always coming in and space can be a problem. So ideally our goal is to get all our animals adopted out." She gave Peaches' shoulder another pat. "It might be difficult to find a good home for Peaches, though. She's a sweetheart, but most people want a horse they can ride."

Steve glanced at Billy, who was fidgeting with his ring and staring somewhere past Nina, jaw clenched.

"Hmm." Steve tried to sound casual, fighting to hold back an eager smile. "You know, I think I might know a place."

*

Steve and Billy stood at the fence, arms crossed over the top board, watching Peaches graze while Lemmy and Cookie frolicked in the far corner of the pasture.

Nina had agreed to let them adopt Peaches on the condition they volunteer at the rescue to learn how to take care of her properly. Nina, her family, and the other volunteers were glad to help with everything from answering questions to building the fence and a small barn on their property. They'd made several new friends by the time they were ready to bring Peaches home.

She'd settled in quickly, making friends with the dogs and spending her days grazing and playing. She loved being groomed, and Steve had teased Billy a few times about him spending more time on Peaches' hair than his own now.

Steve and Billy had settled in too. They'd used some of the extra land to plant a garden. Steve converted the garage into a woodworking shop and with a bigger space to work in, he started experimenting with larger pieces. Billy still surfed whenever he could. They took the dogs to the beach and discovered a few new favorite restaurants. It was everything they'd hoped for when they bought the house.

"I was talking to Mrs. Cooper today," Billy said, breaking the silence. "Her goats are having their babies, and I guess there's a lot of them this year. She said we could have a couple if we want."

"Goats?" Steve was so surprised he wasn't sure what else to say.

"Yeah," Billy said. "We've got room. They'd be buddies for Peaches, and we could sell goat milk and stuff eventually."

"Huh," Steve said. "Goats." He shrugged. "Why not?"

Billy grinned. "Great. I'll tell her we'll take 'em."

Steve grinned back, and surrounded by their dogs and their pony and their own happily-ever-after, he and Billy kissed in the soft spring twilight.

[thosekidswhohuntmonsters]

Fuck it, Let the Whole World Know 

Summary: this is pure tom hiddleston filth and I’m not ashamed of it 

Word Count: 4938

Rating: v spicy, deff 18+

Author’s note: oh god I can’t believe I wrote this!! reading it back now I was nearly blushing! anyways, get ready for Chris Evans to be the best wingman there is

♡if you enjoy this fic you’re welcome to leave a reblog/like/comment! feedback is not only welcomed but encouraged!♡

You had been used to doing press junkets with Chris Evans, but not him and Tom Hiddleston. You’d been in various rom-coms with Chris over the years, but now you were also starring in Infinity War with him.

You were at the food table getting a drink of water as you felt someone pinch your hip, causing you to jump up and turn around. There of course stood Chris, left boob grab and all, “YES! Dude, I don’t know how you still fall for this!”.

Maybe you would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the fact that you were about to do a day of press junkets with the man that you’d developed a serious crush on; Tom Hiddleston. Chris could read you like a book, “Come on (y/n) today will be fineeee!”

You sighed, “What if the interviewers ask-”. Chris raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that you’ve all had to handle some tough questions. He laughed, “Do you not remember the hundreds of weird questions you and I have been asked together?”.

Chris got you to smile, “Oh god Chris don’t remind me….remember when someone asked me if I’d rather sleep with Steve Rogers or Johnny Storm?”. He laughed loudly again as he remembered that memory, a smirk forming upon his lips.

Rolling your eyes you teased, “I’d take Steve Rogers all day...I bet he’s extremely kinky behind closed-”. Chris was laughing much harder than he would’ve at your joke, causing you to turn around.

There of course stood Tom, “Do I even want to know love?”. Your heart started to pound as you tried not to blush. Chris threw you a lifeline as he said, “In all honesty man, no”. The three of you laughed together.

Chris moved to shake hands with Tom, bringing him into a hug. Once it was over Tom looked to you, “Shall we do a take two on our reunion?”. You nodded your head and he pulled you into a light embrace, his hand lingering on the small of your back.

You all heard the call for you to get onto set and take your positions. The set had you three sitting next to each other, and the interviewer across from you. A stage hand positioned you right between the men.

The interviewer shook all your hands, “Now here we have a rather interesting sandwich, (y/n) in between America’s golden boy, and Asgard’s bad boy”. The three of you laughed, all settling into the interview.

You teased, “It’s kinda like an angel and devil on my shoulder huh?”. Chris didn’t hesitate to move and pretend to whisper something into your ear, playing the part. The interviewer ate it up, “Now do you have anything to say Tom?”.

You felt goosebumps as Tom’s lips grazed your ear, softly he said, “I’ve missed you (y/n)”. You nodded your head, pretending that Tom had said something else.

The interviewer caught your smirk and dove right in, “Now let’s get into it, (y/n) which do you prefer; bad boy or golden boy?”. You licked your lips while thinking of a response. You patted Chris’s knee, “Sorry Chris, but I’m gonna have to go with bad boy...Who doesn’t love Loki?”.

Chris looked into the camera, “I know...have you seen the hair?”. Tom nodded his head while smirking. He shrugged, “You know it’s actually an extremely long process to get those raven locks”.

Playfully you said, “It has to be the voice for me...”. You hadn’t really expected yourself to say that, maybe you were caught up in the moment. Tom didn’t skip a beat and he turned towards you.

Holding your gaze he said, “Claim loyalty to me, and I will give you what you need”. You’d be lying if you said his words hadn’t made your mind drift to dirtier places. Before you could respond Chris chimed in, “Dude out of all the lines..that’s what came to mind”.

Smirking you said, “He could’ve asked me to neal Chris…”. Tom started to laugh, and while doing so rested his hand on your knee.

The interviewer pulled out some cards, “Are you guys down for a game of would you rather; marvel style?”. You all nodded your heads, showing different levels of excitement.

“This one is for you Chris; would you rather be trapped in an elevator with black widow or our very wonderful (y/n) here” you narrowed your eyes at Chris, pretending to be angry depending on his answer.

Boldly you said, “Now remember Chris...keep things pg”. Once again the interviewer ate it up, and Chris started to laugh loudly. Tom joined in, “Who was under the impression that things wouldn’t be pg”.

Chris teased, “Uh me! Okay I guess I’d have to choose black widow”. The interviewer grinned, “Now is that payback for (y/n) choosing Loki earlier?”. Chris smirked while saying “maybe”.

The next question was, “Okay Tom would you rather have Loki’s irresistible charm, or his beautiful raven hair?”. You looked to Tom, trying to calm down your brain.

It had been awhile since you’d seen him last, and this wasn’t too ideal of a reunion. For some weird reason your feelings were even more intense today, but you couldn’t exactly show that during interviews.

Chris chimed in with a devilish smirk, “Tom already has Loki’s irresistible charm..right (y/n)”. Your eyes widened as you looked to Chris, but you were only met with a wink. Faking a laugh you said, “He tries to hide it, but he’s a total lady killer”.

Once again Tom laughed softly while gripping your knee, “Come on love, don’t flatter me”. You found yourself getting lost in the moment again, from the way his touch gave you goosebumps to how beautiful his face looked while smiling.

The interviewer joked, “Looks like there might be a little Loki in you after all huh Tom?”. Tom looked into the camera while smirking, playing into the interviewer's comments.

The rest of the interview continued like that; playful questions, light flirting between you and Tom, and your mind melting every time he found a way to touch you in the most innocent way.

When it was over you three walked back to the food table, beginning your two hour or so break until the next interview. You smiled, “It feels good to be getting back into this guys”.

Tom stood next to you, his shoulder inches from yours, “I have missed you both...I hate how terribly busy I am nowadays”. You nodded your head in agreement while looking to Chris.

You caught his wink, “I know dude...so crazy...I can’t even enjoy this break because my manager needs to brief me on the questions for later today!”. You raised an eyebrow wondering what Chris was playing at.

Before you could figure it out he moved to hug Tom goodbye, and then you. He whispered into your ear, “You got this (y/n)”. With one last salute Chris was gone, leaving you and Tom alone.

Tom smiled, “Are you hungry darling because I’m starving...and not for this set food”. You’d realized that Chris had basically left you and Tom alone for the next two hours.

Nodding your head you suggested, “I think I saw a breakfast joint around the corner?”. You watched as his entire face lit up, realizing that you’d go along with his idea. Tom smirked, “Shall we?”.

Smiling back you mocked his tone, “We shall”. Tom looked at the ground while shaking his head, smiling at your teasing. You began to walk off set until Tom’s manager called to you both, making you stop in your tracks.

You thought you were screwed, until Tom whispered something into his manager’s ear after pointing to you. His manager nodded their head, “Just be back in time okay?”.

Tom walked back over to you, and you had to admit how proud he looked was extremely adorable. Playfully you asked, “More of that Loki charm?”. Tom shook his head while you both started to walk down the street.

Tom sheepishly said, “Love, you truly do flatter me”. You rolled your eyes as you turned the corner. You started walking backwards for a moment, “Tom Hiddleston, the most humble man there is”.

You turned back around so you couldn’t see the look on Tom’s face. He couldn’t explain it, but within the first five seconds he saw you he felt himself getting lost in you again. Tom had always had feelings for you, but with your conflicting schedules he pushed them aside.

There was just something about you, something that was so intoxicating to him. Tom was just scared that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, and he already felt it starting. Smiling he said, “Why that tone darling?”.

By now you were about to enter the shop, Tom leaning in to open the door for you. Walking inside you said, “Come on Tom, you can’t be as innocent as you seem”. Tom laughed loudly while his jaw nearly dropped.

You read the, “Seat yourself” sign so you clapped your hands together. Looking over your shoulder you said, “I’m a booth by the window kinda girl, how about yourself?”. Tom slid into the booth, sitting across from you.

Smiling his said, “I think I’ve always been a windows kinda man myself love”. You nodded your head in approval, and soon enough a waitress came over to give you both menus. Tom grinned, “I’ll have a green tea, thanks love”.

She looked to you, “And I’ll have an apple juice”. You heard Tom laugh, and you immediately turned to face him. The waitress smiled, “I’ll be back with your drinks in a second”. Tom sat across from you, the biggest grin on his face.

You tilted your head to the side, “Am I not allowed to order apple juice?”. He was still grinning, propping his head up with his hand. He held your gaze, “It’s a compliment darling..I love how innocent you can be at times”.

“Innocent at times?” you repeated while raising an eyebrow. Tom laughed once again, now focusing on the menu. You smirked, “Let’s play truth or dare”. He quickly put down the menu, focusing instead on you.

“Truth or dare?” he asked once again. You nodded your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “Truth or dare Tom...unless you’re not game…” Tom laughed, a look of determination now on his face.

He leaned forward, “Oh love, you have no idea”. You leaned forward as well, the moment quickly escalating. Your heads snapped to the left, “So what can I get you both?”.

Tom’s smirk was now replaced with a smile, “I’ll have the oatmeal with apples and cinnamon and a side of toast please”. The waitress nodded her head while writing down his order. Smiling you said, “And I’ll have a waffle, side of homefries”. She smiled, placing down your drinks and then turning to prepare your orders.

“So truth or dare?”. Tom pretended to think it over for a minute before saying, “Dare”. Raising your eyebrows you pretended to be surprised. Grinning you said, “I dare you to read your last text message out loud”.

Quickly you added, “And show me the screen so I know you’re not lying”. Tom let out a sigh, and reluctantly took out his phone. When he found his latest message he laughed, “I can’t-”.

Teasingly you said, “What could our sweet little Tom possibly be talking about thats so bad he can’t repeat it?”. Tom rolled his eyes, but found himself smiling. He shook his head but continued, “I wouldn’t have minded asking (y/n)-”.

He paused and you beamed with excitement, “Come on! Don’t be a tease”. Tom licked his lips before continuing. He spoke quickly, “To kneel before me”. You felt your stomach drop, but you tried to keep yourself under control.

Turning his phone you saw the text, and the rest of his conversation with Chris. You smiled to yourself realizing that Chris had been playing both sides.

You clicked your tongue, “Well would you look at that...Tom Hiddleston is much dirtier than he looks”. Looking at him you could see he was blushing lightly, and you were trying your hardest to remain calm and collected.

Shrugging he said, “Shall I remind you of what you were talking about with Chris earlier”. You nodded, and the waitress came with your food. After taking a sip of your drink you said, “But I was talking about his character..not him”.

Tom casually began to eat, “You were the one who brought up the idea of kneeling, so I’m quite curious as to what you’ve been thinking about...”. You choked on the homefry you’d been eating, and Tom sat there with a smirk.

He loved this little game you were playing with him, and it was bringing up feelings he’d been trying to suppress. The truth was that Tom was a complex man with many different sides, and right now you were challenging his most dangerous side.

Tom knew he now had the upper hand, “So truth or dare?”. You tried to calm your breathing by taking a couple bites of your food. In between bites you said, “Truth”. You couldn’t see but Tom was smirking.

“A little coy are we now love? Hmm, is it true that you really like men with a dark side”. His voice alone made butterflies dance in your stomach, and goosebumps appear on your skin. You could tell the mood had shifted, and something new inside of Tom was stirring.

“Good becomes too boring too fast...I like men who push the limits and make things interesting” you looked down as you spoke, afraid to see his reaction. Tom nodded his head planning his next move.

Finally looking up you asked, “Truth or dare?”. Tom held your gaze, and you saw something different in his eyes. He bit his bottom lip, “Dare”. For a moment you just sat there, a thousand thoughts flooding your mind but no words leaving your lips.

Somehow you managed to get out, “I dare you to tell me what you want Tom, no more games”. As he processed your words a smirk form upon his lips. It was only three words, but enough to make your head spin, “I want you”.

For a moment it had felt like everything you’d thought you’d known about Tom was wrong, but then you realized that there was always a little voice in your head telling you there was something different about him.

There had to be a reason he was drawn to such dark and complex characters right? Maybe there was a side to Tom that was darker and more forbidden than he’d let on, and as you looked into his lust filled eyes, you knew you were right.

He licked his lips, “Although I quite love this game we’re playing darling, I think it’s time we finally do what we’ve been dreaming about for so long”. You just looked at him, your lips parted, your eyes wide, shocked by his words.

His grin only seemed to grow as he realized how much power he had. Tom leaned forward, “There’s no need to be shy now love, I’ve wanted you for a long time….and maybe I’m wrong but I think you want the same”.

You nodded your head, “Tom...I-”. Before you could struggle to find the words any longer the waitress came back over. Tom winked at you before turning to look at her. With a sudden innocent expression he asked, “Do you have a bathroom here darling?”.

She nodded her head and pointed to where it was, and instantly Tom got up. You were extremely confused, especially because while walking away Tom looked so mischievous. Sitting down you thought about everything for a while.

Finally it hit you, and when you realized what he’d done you just laughed to yourself. The damn bastard wanted you to go follow him, finally take what you want. Taking a breath in and then out, you finally got up from the table.

You walked over to the portion of the restaurant where the bathrooms were. There stood Tom leaning against the door to the family bathroom, “Look who it is”. His arms were crossed over his chest, and a smug look on his face. You smiled, and Tom leaned back finally opening the door to the bathroom.

As he walked into the room you caught his smirk in the reflection of the mirror. Walking into the bathroom you closed the door behind you, locking it. To your surprise the bathroom was actually nice.

It had a huge countertop with the sink, and even a large armchair off to the side. As you looked to Tom you could see the different look in his eyes, and it made your core ache. Tom was eyeing you like a predator eyes its prey.

He loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his sleeves. Tom spoke casually as he did so, “I love how shy you are darling, as if this whole day you haven’t been teasing me”. Your back was pressed against the door as you listened to him.

Tom laughed lowly, “Even during the interview -it’s the voice that does it for me- love I could barely control myself...I wanted to ravish you right then and there”. You swallowed hard, biting your bottom lip.

Finally he looked back up to you, “And here you are standing right before me, but still not letting yourself take what you’ve been craving..I can see it in your eyes (y/n)...how badly you want this”.

Tom licked his lips, “Let yourself go love”. Before you could process what you were doing you were walking over to him. Tom crashed his lips against yours in a hunger filled kiss. It was like with each touch of your lips years of tension melted away.

All too soon he pulled back, “Now the fun can truly begin darling”. You stood there trying to catch your breath, unsure of his next move. Tom turned your body so your back was now facing him.

As he placed light kisses down your neck, he grabbed your wrists. Tom tugged at the bottom of your earlobe as he moved your wrists so they were now behind your back. Breathlessly you asked, “Tom what-”.

Making use of his tie, he used it to bind your hands together. You couldn’t help yourself, a moan of anticipation escaping your lips. He purred into your ear, “I knew you loved to be as filthy as I do”.

All you could do was nod your head, melting into his touch. Tom ran a hand up your back, making you lean forward as he pressed you into the countertop. His hands slid back down your sides his body also moving down.

Tom was on his knees, his hands only moving up to push up the dress you’d been wearing. He pulled your legs apart, exposing your black lace panties. His laugh was so low it was almost a growl, “My my pet, what do we have here?”.

Your face was resting against the countertop, the cool tile the only thing calming you down right now. His hands ran up your thighs, massaging your ass, “You look so good (y/n)”.

His name left your lips like a prayer, “Tom please-”. With a grin he spanked your ass, making you jump. Immediately he kissed the exact spot where his handprint would be.

He moved his lips to your slit, teasing you through your panties with soft kisses. You arched your back needing more, “Tom”. His mouth was hovering over your most sensitive area.

Finally he slid your panties to the side, your clit now fully exposed to him. Tom gripped your thighs pulling you closer to him, “What do you want darling?”.

“Want me to take that delicious clit of yours between my lips?” his words were making you wetter by the second. You nodded your head sounding all too desperate, “Yes Tom please”. Once again he laughed, becoming more intoxicated with you.

His voice was so low, “All you had to do was ask”. The smug bastard finally took your clit between his lips, sucking deeply. The most obscene sounds were leaving his mouth as you felt electricity with each touch of his tongue.

Tom’s face was buried between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. You were trying not to moan, but it was so hard because his mouth was working wonders. He’d move his tongue in all different directions and speeds as his face was buried between your folds.

“You taste so fucking good (y/n)” he said while groaning. You started to breath quicker, feeling yourself become closer. Tom could sense it too, so he pulled back. As he stood behind you, you could feel his hardness pressing against you.

He slid a finger between your folds where his mouth had previously been. As he teased you he spoke, “You’re even more incredible than I’d imagined..you have no idea what you do to me”.

Tom thrust his hips forward, “Can you feel how hard you’ve made me?”. You nodded your head while breathlessly saying yes. He was grinning once again, “With each second I spend with you I find myself becoming more intoxicated with you”.

Tom gripped your hips tightly while rolling his hips forward. Throwing his head back he groaned, “Oh fuck darling...I can only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around my cock”. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him.

“Then fuck me Tom...make me your little slut”. His head snapped forward, and his eyes widened. As he processed your words he’d lost any control over himself that he’d had. Tom’s breathing was heavy, “Fuck you’re perfect (y/n)”.

Tom nearly ripped off all his clothing, not wanting to spend another second where he wasn’t buried deep inside you. The entire time you were just biting your lip in anticipation, your core aching for his touch.

Finally you felt the head of his dick move slowly up and down your slit teasing you. He groaned, “Say it again (y/n)”. With one hand he tightly gripped your hip, while he held his cock in the other.

Your voice was low, “make me your little slut”. Tom was grinning like a madman, your words driving him wild. His head teased your entrance, “Want me to claim your pretty pink pussy”.

You nodded your head, “Yes Tom”. He rolled his hips forward, watching you arch your back in anticipation. As he finally entered you Tom threw his head back, groaning loudly. His thrusts were slow at first, letting you adjust to his size.

“Tell me how it feels love”. Your smile was wide as you felt the pleasure starting to build up. You loved having him be so in control, “So fucking good”. Tom nodded his head, picking up the pace.

He slid one hand up your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair. With each thrust he repeated, “So-fucking-good”. You started to press back onto him, wanting him to be even deeper inside of you.

Tom gripped your hips tighter, as he rolled his own hips forward. His hand tangled in your hand felt so good, “Oh Tom”. As he looked down at you and saw how lost in the moment you were becoming, he found himself becoming lost too.

He just threw his head back, fucking you harder. He was hitting your g-spot, making you nearly scream out his name. You closed your eyes, letting the feelings of pleasure take over. As he held onto your hips he went even deeper inside of you.

“You look so fucking beautiful love” he said moving even faster. This was all so new to you, but it felt so right. Your hands were bound, and Tom had total control over you, but you loved it.

You trusted him, and that made everything feel even better. As you moaned his name loudly you realized he had gotten you to explore a side of yourself you had always kept closed off.

It felt so good to just be filthy with him, knowing full well that he loved every second of it. You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt him spank you again, making you jump. You just bit your lip, a smile soon forming on your face.

Tom massaged you now red ass cheek, “Fucking incredible”. Your smile only grew, his words making you even wetter. You could see his reflection in the mirror, and he looked so happy.

You watched as his muscular arms held you in place, his hips rolling forward. He was half smirking while breathing rapidly, he chest moving up and down. You could tell that just like you, he was letting himself become overcome with pleasure.

You moved your head to rest against the cold tile counter, closing your eyes as you smirked to yourself. Your voice was soft, “I’m so close”. He nodded his head while moving his hips even faster.

“I want you to cum with me (y/n)” he said inbetween pants. You nodded your head, knowing your orgasm was extremely close. His voice was demanding, “Cum right now (y/n)...fucking cum”.

His words pushed you over the edge, and you let yourself go. Your moans filled the room as you felt your orgasm shake throughout your entire body. Tom was right there with you, moaning just as loudly.

He held onto your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming slopier as he felt himself cumming. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over your entire body, and it was the most intense it had ever felt for you.

Together you rode out your orgasms, both completely lost in eachother. Tom’s groans were so low they were almost growls. He let himself go wild, the same intense feeling of pleasure shaking throughout his entire body.

For a moment the only noise in the room was the both of you trying to catch your breath. Slowly he pulled out of you, “Fucking hell...that was amazing….”. You stood up straight, seeing his smirk through the reflection in the mirror.

Finally he untied your hands, and you turned to face him. He brought your wrists to his mouth, kissing them lightly. He was smiling, “I hope that wasn’t too much for you (y/n)...do your wrists hurt?’.

Just like that he could switch from relentlessly fucking you, to looking at you like a concerned puppy hoping you weren’t hurt. You giggled, “I liked it….a lot”. Tom nodded his head while a smile formed upon his lips.

He looked so proud, “You liked it huh darling?”. You rolled your eyes but found yourself laughing. Looking to him you joked, “You were enjoying yourself to Tom”. He bit his lip, sheepishly running a hand through his hair.

“I guess the cats out of the bag with this one…”. You brought your hands up to wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. Before kissing him you teased, “A little coy are we now Tom?”.

He laughed before kissing you, this time the kiss was soft. His hands slowly exploring your body, taking his time to remember each curve. When the kiss was over he rested his head against yours, “You know I wouldn’t mind doing-”.

Smirking you said, “I’d meant what I’d said Tom...I’m all yours now”. You watched as his entire face lit up, and he held your body closer to his. Tom was smiling, “I really like you (y/n)...this isn’t going to just be some fling”.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek, “You’ve always meant so much to me (y/n)..and now that I finally have you I don’t want to let you go”. You could see the amount of emotion he’d put into every word, and you couldn’t help but kiss him again.

After the kiss was over you moved to the door, “We better get back to set or else people might think-”. Tom quickly put back on his clothes, following you to the bathroom door. He held your hand, “Fuck it (y/n) let the whole world know”.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. You walked out of the bathroom, paid the waitress, and walked back to set together. Chris was the first to notice, and he clapped his hands together.

With a smirk he teased, “Dude FINALLY it’s been like two straight years of eyesex between you both”. You and Tom looked to each other before erupting with laughter. Chris noticed the blush on your cheeks making him raise an eyebrow.

He looked you both up and down, taking in how disheveled you looked. He pointed at you with wide eyes, “Oh my god, you both totally just fucked! Did-”. You rushed over to Chris, covering his mouth.

Chris wiggled his eyebrows while smirking, “Don’t worry your secret’s safe with me….until I tell Mackie and he totally loses it and tells everyone!”. You rolled your eyes, but once again Tom held your hand. After seeing the smile on his face you looked to Chris, “Fuck it...Let the whole world know”.

Toms eyes lit up once again, and he rested his head on your shoulder briefly. After staying like that for a second you heard the call for you to get back on set. You smirked before getting ready to do the next interview with Chris, and you now boyfriend Tom.

♡ thank you for taking the time to read this, you’re a babe♡

Forever tags: aka some amazing people: @moonlessnight14 @sexyvixen7 @angieptt​ @painkiller80 @becca-dolan @team-heichou @thatpeachybandgirl​ @allthesesonsobitches @buckybarneshairpullingkink @couldabeenamermaid​ @taeeemin​ @littleredstarfish @nali67​ @only4wakingup​ @mcenziehughes​

*if there is a line through your name that means that for some reason it won’t allow me to tag you*

*forever tags are always open*

[cake-writes]

Fever (Part One)

Pairings: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader (mentioned)

Story Warnings: Cheating, Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen, Smut, Breeding Kink (if you squint), Angst, 18+

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Steve couldn’t. No, he wouldn’t. Not to his best friend’s girl.

Master List / Spotify Playlist

Two years today – your anniversary.

Not that it mattered, because the mission ran long. Even Steve didn’t get away from it unscathed, if the blood staining the shoulder of his uniform was any indication. You’d seen him hurt too many times over the years, but this time you felt guilty.

He’d gotten hurt keeping you safe. 

His best friend’s girl.

Bucky must have returned to the compound by now, you were sure of it. He’d been radio silent for the last three weeks on an assignment god knows where, but what you did know was that he’d be getting back today; said he wouldn’t miss your anniversary for the world, the hopeless romantic that he was. Your hopeless romantic.

You might have gone a little stir crazy as the days dragged on, missed him a little too much – so you passed the time by going on quick in-and-out missions in hopes that you’d get home and find him there waiting for you.

He wasn’t.

Each mission wound up being no more than a couple of hours, tops, except this one. You and Steve had been trapped here for the last day and a half. Too many Hydra agents to count. Too many fights for survival. Pinned down by the enemy, the two of you barricaded yourselves inside a too-large server room where the walls were thick enough to offer a modest layer of protection: two feet of metal and concrete, meant to safeguard Hydra’s most sensitive data.

The worst part wasn’t even that you were missing your anniversary. No, it was that you’d yanked an empty syringe from Steve’s back about twenty minutes ago and there was no way of knowing what mystery substance it contained. He hadn’t even noticed it, either, which made you wonder what the hell kind of pain tolerance he had. The stupid thing was just sticking out of him, needle about three inches long and yet he’d been completely fucking oblivious.

How?

Thankfully, Steve seemed to be doing okay, all things considered. His wounds would heal, of course. They always did. They always would. You tried not to worry, but you still felt guilty, so much you asked for the umpteenth time, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, doll,” he said in exasperation, holding his cell phone and yours up toward the ceiling in hopes that one of them would pick up a signal. “I’ll let you know if anything changes, you know, like I said the last ten times you asked.”

You huffed a little as you attempted to access one of the computers, having already tried five of them with no success. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt. Especially when it’s my fault.”

He laughed at that, somehow, despite the fact that you were both trapped in here with no hope of rescue. No signal, no reception, no dice. Things looked pretty dismal, but he was ever the optimist. “I can already feel myself healing. Stop worrying, okay?”

Computer number six was also a failure.

Another twenty minutes passed, but nothing changed.

Well, at least, not that you noticed. Steve was burning up, but he didn’t say a thing – didn’t want to make you worry. He cared too much about you for that, cared more than he should have for his best friend’s girl. 

Always had. Always would.

Sweat dotted his brow as he watched you try computer after computer to no avail. He just couldn’t tear his eyes away; even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, you were illicitly gorgeous, far more attractive than you should have been to him. Hair tousled, eyeliner smudged, tight black catsuit on your body ripped in too many places to count, cuts and scrapes and bruises peeking through – all superficial. 

He didn’t like seeing you hurt, either, so when the heat creeped up his neck, he wasn’t sure if it was from concern, claustrophobia, or carnal attraction.

“Anything?”

Steve’s question was simple, but he barely even recognized the sound of his own voice. Strained. Rough. Maybe because his throat was so dry.

When you glanced up from the screen and over at him, he forgot how to breathe. Bright eyes and a beautiful smile, despite the less-than-ideal circumstances. 

All for him.

Only for him, here, and sweet as sin.

“Nope,” you said cheerfully, popping the ‘p.’ 

That drew his attention to your mouth at the worst possible moment. As you focused back on the screen in front of you, you pulled your lower lip in between your teeth in thought, almost like you were trying to tease him, like you were trying to drive him out of his fucking mind. The sight shot straight to his groin; brought attention to the fact that his pants were starting to get just a little too tight. 

Then you looked up again at the silence and caught him staring. Tilting your head to the side, you asked slowly, “Still feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, and then he cleared his throat – tried to clear his mind, too, but it didn’t work. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Steve didn’t like to lie, but he didn’t have a choice. Not here. Not when he felt like this.

Your fingertips stilled over the keyboard as you studied his face a little more closely, and then you took a few steps toward him. “Are you sure? You look a little flushed.”

Your keen scrutiny only made him even hotter – made him want to escape before he did something he’d regret. He was already toeing the line.

But he couldn’t. No, he wouldn’t.

Not to his best friend’s girl.

With your approach came the heady scent of your perfume, and his resolve weakened even more – particularly when you pressed the underside of your wrist to his sweaty forehead. Your skin was far cooler to the touch than it should have been, and the physical contact sent a pleasurable chill through him.

“Something’s wrong,” you said with a frown, swapping your wrist for your palm, and then you brought both hands to either side of his flushed face. “You’re way too hot, Stevie.”

You spoke his name so softly, so gently – like a lover, like a balm. 

Stevie.

On your lips, it sounded sweet as honey.

Steve’s temperature already ran hotter than yours because of the serum, but you were long used to it because Bucky was the same. Ironic, really, that the only person on the face of the earth who’d be able to tell the difference without a thermometer was who stoked the fire to begin with.

Well, you, and whatever the hell it was he’d been injected with.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, but the words felt foreign on his tongue. Wrong. He wasn’t fine. The way he leaned into your touch was evidence of that.

“Here,” your hand trailed down his back to help guide him to a nearby chair, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, “Sit down, okay? Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Ravenous. Touch-starved. Not fine at all.

Steve sank into the worn leather desk chair, but that proved even worse. Now he had to look up at you – look up at your pretty little face and try not to imagine how you’d look straddling him, taking every inch of his cock.

Yeah, like that was possible.

He’d break you. How Bucky managed not to was beyond him. You weren’t enhanced like either of them.

“I’m hot,” Steve finally admitted. “It’s hot in here.”

A flimsy excuse. Even he knew it wasn’t. Something was wrong.

“Really? I’m actually kind of cold.” With a smile, you made a show of briskly rubbing your arms, probably to make him feel better – and then you teased, “Maybe you can warm me up, huh?”

Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.

Your brows rose in surprise, but you laughed soon after.

Oh. Had he said that out loud?

He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

And it didn’t seem to bother you, either, because the concerned look in your eyes was still there and your jokes and laughter were a front. “Are you nauseous? Sick? Come on, talk to me. Please?”

Oh, he liked the sound of that. 

Steve quickly found himself wondering if that was how you sounded when you begged for more, begged for release, begged for something only Bucky was lucky enough to give you.

Imaginary pleas of please, Stevie, please echoed in his ears.

His eyes closed as your fingers threaded through his hair – an attempt to soothe the ache settling into his bones, perhaps. You quickly stopped, however, and he only realized why when he looked back up at you.

When had he taken hold of your wrist?

“What is it, Stevie?”

Shit, honey, if only I knew.

But the words didn’t come. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth.

Steve noticed, then, how easily his fingers and thumb overlapped – how small and delicate you really were, not to mention how absolutely defenseless. Your eyes were impossibly soft as you gazed down at him with such concern, such care, that he somehow wrenched his hand away.

“I… I don’t feel right,” was what he finally settled on.

“Can you describe it?”

You were worried about him, he knew, but you should have been worried about yourself for entirely different reasons. With you so close, he had no choice but to breathe in the irresistible scent of you. It drove him crazy.

You drove him crazy.

Through gritted teeth, Steve managed a rough, “Just find a way to get us out of here.”

“But you’re—”

“Now,” he barked, and you immediately jumped into action at his harsh tone.

Thirteen computers and counting.

Another ten minutes, and you were on computer number seventeen. Still no dice.

In between hurried keystrokes, you snuck glances over at Steve only to find him watching you like a predator might watch its prey. It unnerved you a little. Eyes dark and breathing laboured, he seemed much worse than before – overheating, but you didn’t dare check his temperature again. Your stomach had been in knots since he raised his voice with you, or maybe it started when he grabbed your wrist – a firm grip, one that might have left bruises beneath your shredded sleeve.

Why were you so anxious?

This was Steve. Captain America. Your boyfriend’s best friend. He’d never hurt you, at least not intentionally and you had a feeling that all of this had something to do with the mystery substance running through his veins. He’d be fine. 

That was when the computer dinged with a signal. At last. You might be able to get a message out, even if the reception was so poor. It was a short one, a quick and dirty ‘SOS’ along with your location. Command would send an extraction team for the two of you.

After you hit ‘send,’ you let out an audible sigh of relief. “Finally got a message through. Don’t worry, they’ll get us out.”

Something about that phrase snapped Steve’s resolve. He didn’t want to get out.

No, he wanted to get in.

That was when your back slammed against the wall, so hard that the impact left you gasping for air. “What—”

But you couldn’t finish that sentiment because Steve’s lips were on yours, hot and wanting and unfamiliar – not at all like how Bucky kissed you, how Bucky loved you more than anything.

For a moment, you froze up, absolutely stunned by what he’d done. You came to your senses quickly, though, and shoved him hard in the chest to get him to stop – but only after a few frenzied tries did he finally break away.

Breaths coming out in short bursts, you croaked, “What the hell?”

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself against the wall with one arm above your head. His free hand came up to massage his temple, a distraction from the tightness of his pants. He’d caged you in – trapped you against him so deliciously and when he finally spoke, he sounded just as wrecked as he looked. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I’m with Bucky,” you hissed, voice wavering. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Angry words laced with fear. He didn’t blame you.

But he couldn’t stop himself when his eyes dropped back to your mouth, and in an instant, he found himself wanting another taste, another touch. The fever burning hot fire through his body made it impossible to ignore, let alone resist any longer. What little self-control he had was gone.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he choked out, and then his hand was in your hair, too-tight grip allowing him to pull you in for another kiss. This time he was much less forgiving, almost bruising your lips in his need for you – lips so soft and pliable and his. 

Steve overpowered you with such ease, especially when he swept his tongue into your mouth to sample your sweetness straight from the source. Scalp stinging painfully, you put up a fight, at least until he gathered both your wrists in one large hand and pinned them none-too-gently to the wall. Pain – not a lot of it, but enough to sting, to smart, to leave more bruises. 

No matter how hard you struggled, you couldn’t break free.

Of course you couldn’t. You weren’t strong enough. Not against him.

You attempted to knee him in the groin anyway, a last resort, but he easily deflected it by shoving one of his thighs in between yours. Thick, corded muscle pressed hard against your clothed core, wrenching a strangled gasp from your throat.

“Steve,” you whimpered against his lips, still trying to break free from his hold: an exercise in futility. “Damn it, stop, let me go—”

But he didn’t. No, instead he kissed you again, muffling any other protests, any other objections – and moans, too, he soon discovered when you mistakenly ground against his thigh in another failed attempt of escaping.

Peppering your jaw with open-mouthed kisses, he murmured, “How am I supposed to stop when you sound so pretty?”

Pretty for him. 

All for him.

A shudder wracked your body at the feeling of his breath against your ear, at the low timbre of his voice – rough and full of desire.

You stopped fighting after that.

And then you started to feel the heat, too. You felt the burn on your tongue, first, felt it prickle against your lips – uncomfortable, stifling heat, a fever that quickly made its way through your extremities, made your knees go weak, made you melt against him like butter. 

If Steve hadn’t been holding you up, you would have hit the floor.

“It’s too hot,” you whined, leaning back against the wall, revealing more of your throat for him to mark, to claim. The sharp, sudden ache between your legs was unbearable. “God, it hurts—”

“I know, baby,” he breathed against the saliva-slickened skin of your neck. “I know it does. I’ll make it better.”

Your arms were thrown carelessly around his neck, now; when had he even let you go? You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You just needed him, needed what he was going to give you like you needed air. 

An insistent tug around his collar – an unspoken plea, but the words soon followed, spilling from your mouth like a broken record. “Make it better, Steve, please make it better, Stevie, please—”

“Jesus, doll,” came his groaned reply as he all but yanked the zipper to your catsuit down, down, down between your breasts, and then the sleeves followed, fabric ripping along the seams. The moment you pulled your sports bra over your head, he palmed your breasts – left hot kisses and even hotter touches against your hypersensitive skin, and when he took a nipple into his mouth, you shivered.

“Not enough,” you gasped, fingers curling in his hair.

The taste of your skin was intoxicating – salty sweet with sweat and something he couldn’t quite place.

Longing, perhaps. Or dread.

Teeth raked against the pert bud and again your knees gave out, but Steve held you steady – a welcome reminder of his thigh between yours. This time, you ground down against him purposely, far too impatient and needy to wait for more.

You just couldn’t stop. Not that you even wanted to anymore.

With your free hand, you blindly fumbled with his belt and, somehow, it loosened. His fly was next, frantically unzipped until you had enough leeway to slide your hand into his boxers. As soon your fingers wrapped around him, Steve let out a shaky breath and met your eyes with a shared, albeit fleeting thought—

This was wrong.

But neither of you could stop.

You shoved his pants down below his ass, freeing him from the constraining fabric. His cock was hot and heavy in your palm, and you smoothed your thumb over the leaking slit.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he swore, sending a surge of heat straight to your core.

You wanted this – wanted him.

Steve stripped the rest of your catsuit off in about two seconds flat – half tore it from your body in order to reveal your soft skin and perfect curves. Not that he had a chance to really appreciate them, however, because with a flick of his wrist your panties were in shreds on the floor and you’d slung one leg around his waist.

So fucking eager. He loved it.

He hiked your thigh up higher – allowed you better access to line him up, and when the head of his cock glided through your slick folds, you breathed, “Make it better, Stevie.”

So he did.

Steve slid all the way inside of you in one fluid motion, to which your eyelids fluttered shut, head lulling back against the wall with a dull thunk. The pleasant burn of him stretching you out so beautifully had your fingernails digging into his shoulders, leaving angry red marks behind.

“That’s it,” Steve coaxed, his large hand cradling the side of your face. “There you go.”

The tight, velvety drag of your walls as he slowly withdrew drove you both absolutely insane – and then he slammed all the way back inside, punching the breath from your lungs.

“You— god, you feel so good, Steve, give it to me, I need you, fuck me, Stevie—”

You didn’t even know what you were saying anymore, so blissed out of your mind already and he’d barely even started. With the his cock so deep inside you, the tip snug against your cervix, Steve couldn’t think straight either – and hearing you beg for him like this was better than he ever could have imagined.

He kissed you, then, all teeth and tongues, swallowing every single one of your pleas. Your arms slowly came to rest around his neck, and with unsteady yet practiced flair, you jumped up the tiniest bit – jumped up into his arms, and sure enough, he caught you.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why you knew he would.

Bucky.

A train of thought quickly forgotten as both your legs wrapped around his waist. Hands palming your ass, now, Steve fucked up into you – fucked you to pieces, and then he kissed you back together.

“Fill me up,” you gasped against his lips.

Jesus.

You didn’t have to ask him twice, especially when he felt the tell-tale flutter of your walls around his cock. You were close, and your soft, breathy whimpers only confirmed it.

“Gonna come for me, baby?”

“Yeah,” you moaned. “God, I’m so fucking close—”

Steve’s thrusts started to falter, then, and his fingertips dug into your hips. He left more bruises, but the mix of sensations was too much for you to handle and with a strangled cry, you fell apart, walls clenching down around him – desperately trying to milk him dry.

Even your body wanted him to come inside.

It pushed him over the edge, the knowledge that even on the most primal level you wanted him to fill you up – a conscious decision, but an instinctive one, too. With a soft groan, he pushed in as deep as he could go and spilled hot inside of you, marking your insides like a brand.

As he came down, exhaustion hit him like a wave. He set you down gently, but then he held one of his hands to the wall to keep himself from falling.

He felt weak, and so did you.

Chest heaving, you slid to the floor in post-coital bliss, cum dripping down the insides of your thighs. Steve wasn’t nearly as winded, and of course he wasn’t. He had the serum coursing through his veins, just like Bucky.

Bucky.

Bucky.

“Oh god, Steve,” you choked out, staring up at him in horror. “What— What did we do?”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, feverish haze finally starting to clear.

Two years today – your anniversary.

Not that it mattered.

Part Two / Cold Sweats (fan-written sequel)

(If you like my work, please consider donating to my Patreon or my Ko-Fi!)

[libsterslobsters]

What Is and What Should Never Be...

A Bucky Barnes/reader fanfic

Summary: Things between the reader and Bucky have never made sense. From the unlikeliness of them meeting to their strange powers, to their relationship surviving misunderstandings, separations, and most of all, Thanos, the odds are always against them, and yet things always sort them out. This time though, they face the biggest obstacle of their lives. Will this be what breaks them, or will they, yet again, pull through?

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of sex, no editor

Author's note: Guys, I am a fluffy bitch who happens to love characters with a tragic back story. My family has saved my life, so I had to give our favorite black lab puppy of a super soldier a happy ending.

************************************

It’s half past two when she finally convinces herself to do it. The other alternative is to lie in bed, staring at the ceiling for the next three hours until her alarm goes off. And… a quiet mutter in another language… Russian, she immediately realizes as her mind translates the nonsensical phrase… reminds her that she’s unlikely to have an opportunity in the weekend ahead to go out on her own without that wonderful, loving, over-protective husband of hers worrying or offering to go with her.

Slowly, she pushes back the sheets and climbs from the bed (a monumental task, since somehow, in his sleep, he always ends up touching her in some way; this time it’s an arm slung over her waist), padding softly towards the bathroom. It’s not ideal, pulling clothes out of the hamper to wear again, but she doesn’t want to risk opening the closet to dig around and the noise waking him, light sleeper that he is, so it’ll have to do.

The townhouse is familiar, so she doesn’t worry too much about stumbling in the dark, but still she clutches the stair railing harder than usual, more to calm herself than any real fear she will fall. She’s trying her best not to access that part of her mind, the one that grants her an unwanted view into the immediate future as, finally on the bottom floor, she shoves her keys into her purse and her feet into her shoes, then pulls open the door.

The city never sleeps, which is a mercy, because the porch light has already been turned off. There’s no reason for either of them to venture out again until morning. At least, that’s what he thinks. Her hands shake as she turns the key, bringing the car’s engine to life. If this goes the way she’s nearly certain it will, she’s going to have to trade it in for something bigger than it’s fuel-efficient two seat capacity.

It’s a familiar drive, and a short one. If the sun were out, she’d walk! But as it is, she parks three blocks down from where she lives and, taking a deep breath to hold back the panicked tears threatening to flow, steps out into the night.

The cashier is rubbing at his eyes wearily, and doesn’t so much as blink as she places her items on the counter to be scanned. Three boxes, because if she’s going to potentially risk upending her life, his life too, she’ll be damned if she’s not absolutely certain of her reason. She briefly wonders if she’ll even be capable of using all that she’s bought in one go, but dismisses the thought almost as soon as it appears. Well, it’s unlikely she’ll be getting any sleep tonight. That’s plenty of time to make damn sure of the result.

She’s not aware of anything as she drives back. Thank God everyone else seems to be watching themselves, or else she’d be in trouble. Well, she chuckles bitterly to herself, more trouble than she’s already potentially in. Again, the quiet dance of easing key into lock, of softly closing the door behind her and slipping out of her shoes. This time, she pads towards the downstairs bathroom. May as well get it over with.

As it turns out, if you pace yourself, you can indeed manage to use three of the tiny plastic sticks all at once. They’re all different brands, but the wait time is the same. She sets her watch to three minutes and, closing her eyes, tries to concentrate on anything but her visions of the future.

Instead, she focuses on the past. They met out of nowhere, while he was on the run and she was in hiding. That was the one time she was happy to be blessed with precognition; it allowed her to pull him around that street corner just before the man she didn’t know anything about other than a forboding sense that he was no good would have recognized the lost stranger with the metal arm.

That should have been the end of it. She saved him, and ran as fast as she could when he asked, “Who are you?” But he’s always been stubborn, this Winter Soldier, so of course he chased her down until she had nowhere to go (or rather, until her visions kicked in yet again and informed her that there was no way out; no matter where she ran, he was more than capable of finding her).

There were awkward introductions, a distasteful cup of tea he still claims is their first date, and the admission:

“I see the future. Little shards of it. And I never can control when I see it.”

Again, that should’ve been the end of it, but his response was,

“I’m nearly 100 years old, have super serum running through my veins, killed hundreds of people, and I have basically no memory of the past fifty years of my life.”

She should have run, but she didn’t. And how glad she is, no matter how this turns out, that she stayed.

There were so many times they should’ve fallen apart. When she told him, “This has to stop. I’m so sorry. You’ve been nothing but a good friend to me and you don’t deserve this, but somewhere along the line, I got my wires crossed, and I accidentally fell in love with you.” , there’s no logical explanation to him telling her, “Wait, I’m a little confused here. I thought we’d been dating for the past six months. And you thought… oh.” It shouldn’t have worked out, shouldn’t have led to both of them doing what they’d wanted to for so long: sharing a kiss, just an innocent peck to the lips, which for her, felt like taking her first breath.

He should have left her behind when Steve came for him, shouldn’t have insisted, “I’ll go, but I’ve got someone we’ve got to bring with us. Someone important.” Or she should have stayed, but the danger of what lay ahead didn’t seem like that big of a price to pay if she got to stay with the man she was beginning to suspect was the love of her life.

When he went to a small African country, she shouldn’t have insisted, “Of course I’m going with you! You didn’t leave me. What makes you think I’m going to leave you?” He shouldn’t have given in. They shouldn’t have weathered the long breaks between seeing each other while he was having his mind rewired and she was learning, learning about Wakanda and teaching so little by comparison about the language she speaks, or come out on the other side stronger. When the call came once again for the white wolf to return to battle, it made no sense for her to go too even with the years of training she had, or that as soon as they were settled on the helicarrier, he sighed and informed her, “I was planning on doing this at a nice dinner, but since we have no idea what we’re getting into, I thought I’d go ahead and ask.” pulling out a small box with a delicate ring inside, asking, “Marry me as soon as this is over.” Going into the unknown, she shouldn’t have said yes.

She shouldn’t have survived Thanos’ armies, the multiple injuries she sustained, the snap that followed, or as a last-ditch effort to save her life, the mad scientist’s cocktail, the one that turned an innocent boy who only wanted to serve his country into the Winter Soldier, being administered by Natasha’s shaking hands. He shouldn’t have been the one who turned to dust. When she woke up, one thought on her mind, “Where is Bucky?” her heart should have given out when Steve told her, anxiously holding her hand, “I’m so sorry. He’s gone.”

Five years later, she should’ve been past it, should have moved on. Not been there to answer the call when her phone lit up and an excited spy told her, “There’s a chance we can bring them back.” None of it should have worked- the time travel, Bruce snapping his fingers, them once again fighting Thanos. When it was all over, she should’ve been so broken, so changed, that when she saw him, her first words were not, “You came back to me.”

There should have been too much water under the bridge. They shouldn’t have been able to make it work, him relearning the woman he used to know because, “You kept it on.” “Of course I did.” It made no sense, and they were warned against going through with trading vows only six months after the world righted itself again. They shouldn’t have been able to work together, continue to “fight the bad guys” without growing to resent each other. The marriage should’ve ended within a year, not grown stronger, been full of loves and laughs, lazy morning sex and breakfast for dinner, until now.

Her watch starts beeping, and although she’s quick to silence the alarm, she wonders if he’s heard it. When no footsteps sound over her head a full ninety seconds later, she stand and examines the tests on the counter. Three different brands, three different options for telling her one simple answer. A plus sign. Two pink lines. One simple word: pregnant.

The tears finally do fall, and even though she reaches out to the gift, the curse, the future, it’s unclear. Well, she tells herself after burying the results in the box of tampons under the sink (unused for far too long) which she knows he’ll never look through, none of this should have worked so far, but it has. Maybe this will be yet another exception.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Sam’s jokes have stopped being funny, or maybe he’s just stopped paying attention. All Bucky knows is that he’s paying more attention to the clock across the room from him, or rather it’s hands than his partner. Finally, the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on the five. He thinks he says something about getting home, the plan sounds great, they’ll talk more about it tomorrow, but he can’t be sure. He’s too busy trying to remember which streets are the least busy this time of day so that he can get home sooner.

She’s been off for the last week or so. There was the food poisoning (odd, because they’re both “super soldiers”, they don’t get sick, but she also doesn’t lie so that had to be what’s going on) Sunday morning, which didn’t seem to be much better on Monday, even if she still went in to work. “I’m fine. These people work so hard to learn English. The least I can do is show up and grade their papers.” He should’ve insisted she stay home, but that wouldn’t have done any good.

Tuesday, she was asleep on the couch when he arrived from work. Wednesday is when she started jumping when he entered a room, freezing when he touched her, and later that night when he tried to pull her closer to him in bed, her muscles tensed under his palm, even if she did settle against his chest. Thursday she was awake before he was and came to bed hours after he’d already turned in. This morning, she was out the door before he could so much as say goodbye, and after six days, enough is enough. He’s determined to figure out what’s going on with his wife.

She’s usually at the community college late, tutoring students after class, but to his surprise, as he steps inside their house, the lights are on, and what’s more, the smell of meat cooking and several spices mingling is in the air.

“Long day?”

She barely looks up as he steps into the kitchen, but does smile when he places a kiss on her forehead, so that’s something.

“It was alright. You?”

She shrugs. “I’m glad to be home, let’s put it that way.”

He wants to sit her down, take both of her hands in his, ask her what’s going on, but he doesn’t get the chance before she suggests,

“Why don’t you go up and get a shower? Dinner should be ready by the time you’re done.”

He is sweaty, he supposes, so he nods.

“Alright.”

Half a flight of stairs is behind him before he thinks to add, “Love you, Doll.” “Love you.” Small assurances, but he needs them. His mind is swirling with all of the worst possibilities he can think of. She’s dying. She’s leaving him. He’s done something to make her feel afraid or unwanted. No. She still loves him. He’s just paranoid.

He decides to use his time in the shower to come up with a plan. After they eat, he’ll take care of the dishes so she can relax. More than likely she’ll want to get a head start on grading papers, but since it’s the weekend, that’ll only last for half an hour or so before she decides that the rest can wait and Netflix is much more appealing. He’ll get the snacks ready (more than likely popcorn, but last week it was some sort of trail mix that included, of all things, parsley) and once they’re cuddled up, well into whatever mindless tv show they’re watching this time, he’ll press the issue.

A flash of orange catches his eye as he’s rinsing off. He calls out her name, thinking maybe she’s come upstairs for something, but there’s no reply. Paranoid again. He really needs to get to the bottom of this.

It doesn’t take him long to change into his weekend wear: sweatpants and an old tshirt, but as soon as he’s down the steps and into the kitchen once again, he wishes he’d put a little more effort in. Now he knows what the flash of orange was: the dress that always reminds him of summer. She’s changed clothes, taken her hair out of its “teacher” knot at the back of her head, and refreshed the makeup she could easily do without. Not only that, but-

“We’re eating in the dining room.” He thought those dishes looked a little nicer than paper plates.

The food is good. He’s certain of it, but he’s not tasting anything. Neither is she, he’s fairly certain, because she just picks at what’s on her plate. Neither of them say anything, on his part because he’s trying not to blurt out, “What’s wrong?” On hers… he’s not sure.

Finally, enough time has passed to warrant getting up. He starts to stand, but she grasps his hand.

“Wait. I-” She bites her lip. It’s brief, but it’s an obvious sign that she’s nervous, a tell that she’s never completely lost over the years. “Sit. I have something I need to do, and if you get up, I’ll talk myself out of it.” It’s all connected. He can feel it.

She’s only gone for thirty seconds (he’s counting to give himself something to do other than worry), and then she’s back, visibly trembling, with a small, white box in hand.

“I don’t know how to say this, so I thought-” She stops short and, a little hesitantly, offers the item to him before sitting. “-open it and hopefully you’ll get the gist.”

It’s the wrong shape for divorce papers, too small to hold anything else he can think of, and the yellow ribbon tied around it seems to suggest it’s not a bad thing.

“Okay.” He nods and, tugging gently at the ribbon, removes the lid.

It doesn’t make sense. A pair of white, soft leather shoes, so small they look like they should belong to a doll. Underneath, an equally doll-like white hat. And… oh. A silver rattle. He’s not stupid; he can figure out what this adds up to, but still, gazing into her eyes, he has to ask.

“Are you…?”

She nods, and although she immediately lifts her hand to wipe it away, a tear slides down her cheeks. “Yes.”

Suddenly it all makes sense. The odd behavior, the secrecy, the fear. They’ve never talked about having children, even taken precautions to make sure it doesn’t happen. In their line of work, with her extra abilities and their combined genetics with the serum, it doesn’t make sense to have a child. He’ll be a terrible father. He’s a murderer- no, he chides himself, a soldier forced to do things he regrets- and still, for all intents and purposes, in the service. He’s got so much baggage. Steve is the one who would be good (hell, was good, from what he’s gathered) with the wife, the family. But now that he knows, now that he’s aware that, between the two of them, they’ve created a new life, he’s never wanted anything more.

“We’re having a baby.” It’s not a question, but she nods, sniffling slightly.

“We are.”

He can’t wait anymore. She may still be afraid, unsure of what the outcome will be of this accidental miracle, but he has to at least assure her that through it all, he’ll be with her.

Carefully, he slides down from his chair to kneel beside her, and just as he was planning to do later tonight, takes both of her hands in his (well, one of them; the other is resting over where their baby, his baby, is growing).

“That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard.”

The tears fall fresh from her eyes, but her smile is bright, a real one he hasn’t seen in the past six days, and as she leans down, he presses his lips against hers, ignoring the mistiness in his own eyes. None of this makes sense. It shouldn’t work, or even be possible. But it is.

[jawritter]

You and Me...

Chapter 5

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chapter Warnings*** Drepressed Jensen, implied self-loathing, angst, swearing, kidnapping, I don’t think there are any triggers in this chapter. Sorry If I missed something.

Word Count: 1534

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jared x Reader, OFC Justin X Reader

A/N: Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. After this chapter things tend to start to pick up a little.

Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

Walking into work the next morning you felt a lot better about the situation with Jensen. Talking to Alex always seemed to make you feel better. 

He was right, maybe you were being a little too touchy, but you weren't exactly as ready to apologize as you thought you were. So you decided today when Jensen came in to record that you would just kind of avoid any contact with him that wasn’t strictly business. Not put yourself in a situation to get into any sort of conflict with him, and if he said something hurtful to you, you wouldn't let it get to you.

"What's up Justin," you say, flopping down in your chair in the recording room. 

Justin looked a little afraid. Like he had something to tell you and was afraid of what you would do when he told you. 

"Y/n...I got some bad news this morning, please don't shoot the messenger," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. 

You narrowed your eyes at him and gave him your best deadpan bitchface you could come up with. 

"Okay... That depends on what you're about to tell me."

What the hell can go wrong now? 

"Jennifer called and quit this morning. She wouldn't tell us why. We tried everything to make her stay, but she refused. Steve wrote and emailed her a letter of recommendation so that she can find her another job quickly, but that's gonna put you bringing Jensen whatever he needs until we can find a replacement." 

He put his hands up in a defensive pose waiting for you to throw something at him, saying everything he had to say in a rush. 

"She quit," was all you could say, shocked at what you were hearing. 

Why in the world did she quit? She was all excited to work with Jensen yesterday. She was such a big fan of his work. Head over heels for the man. You hadn't noticed him being rude or mean to her at all. What the hell happened overnight?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Jensen and Jared walking into the recording room. Jensen said nothing, just kept his head down, and stood quietly behind Jared. 

Jared on the other hand seemed to be in a good mood as always, joking and laughing at everyone in the room.

"Ready to get started?" Justin asked Jensen. He just shook his head, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. 

He made his way with his head still down, staring at the floor, towards the recording room. He looked horrible. He was pale, and he looked absolutely exhausted. 

All the anger you had seemed to fade at that moment, and concern took its place. Why the hell did you even care? 

 "Okay, take it from the top Mr. Ackles," you tell him as he situates himself on the stool with his guitar. 

You had never seen him so quiet. You give Jared a questioning look, and he just shrugs. 

After about five takes of the same song, you call for him to take a break. He seemed distracted, and if he couldn’t get it together you were going to just tell him that it might be best to come back and take it from the top tomorrow. 

Finally, he spoke to you for the first time that day. 

"Y/N? Can you bring me some coffee, please?" 

The soft, polite tone that he took with you threw you for a lope. You just sat there blinking at Jared and Justin who sat there staring back at you, just as taken aback as you were. 

"Sh...Sure," you tell him, standing to go and get him his coffee. 

"Is he sick or something?" you asked Jared as you headed for the door.

"No idea. He's been quiet all morning," he said, watching his friend through the glass. A worried look on his face. 

You grabbed the coffee quickly and opened the door to the room Jensen was sitting in, looking down at his feet, and strumming ideally on his guitar. He looked like he was a thousand miles away from yourself and this little room.

He looks up at you and takes the coffee from your hand. His fingers brushing yours briefly. Your stomach did a flip that surprised you. 

“This guy's an ass Y/N. Don't let his good looks get you,” you think to yourself, trying to ignore the number of butterflies that seemed to take flight in your stomach. 

"Thanks," he mumbled and looked back down at his feet. You were just about to walk out the door when he spoke up again. 

"Where is Jennifer?" he asked, you tried to ignore the jealousy and the annoyance at the way he seemed to favor the young girl over you. Still, you couldn’t deny it gnawed at you. 

"She's no longer employed here. Called in, and left this morning," you tell him shortly, unable to completely hide your annoyance like you wished you could have. 

He just nodded his head, looking back down at his feet again almost like a dog that had been kicked too hard too many times.

“Did she turn him down or something?” you think to yourself as you take your seat in the recording room again. The thought of that makes you smirk just a little. 

"Okay, Mr. Ackles one more time, and we should have it. Then we can wrap for today okay?" you say into the speaker. 

He just nods his head and starts strumming again. Jared never took his eyes off his friend, staring at him and trying to read behind whatever Jensen was hiding, because something was very, very wrong.

Time Jump One week.

Jensen sat in the almost empty bar owned by his best friend looking out over all the empty tables as the music played softly around him. 

It was late, very late. Jared was already gone home, asking him if he would keep an eye on the new bartender he'd hired today. 

Shep had contracted a stomach bug, and Gen needed help with the kids. 

Sitting at the end of the bar watching the young boy count down the register Jensen heard the bell ding as the door opened. He turned to see two very large men enter the bar and sit down on either side of him. As soon as they did an uneasy feeling hit Jensen right in the pit of his stomach.

"Sorry, guys I forgot to lock the door. We're closed,” Jensen said, looking back and forth between the two men. 

"Oh come on Jensen, just one little shot for me and my boys," The rather large man said that was sitting to his left. 

He was heavily tattooed. Several teardrop tattoos under his eye told Jensen he'd done some jail time. Maybe it was a good idea to just give the guy the shots then they could go.

Jensen signaled to the young bartender to give the men the shots when two other men came in and sat down at the table directly behind Jensen and the two other men. Jensen knew that they were all together, it was obvious, and they weren’t really trying to hide it. 

Jensen swallowed hard, looking over at the young bartender. 

"Son, why don't you go ahead and take that to the back and put it in the safe. We'll let them have this one on the house and then they can be on their way." 

With that, the boy who was just as anxious to get away from the men as Jensen was to get him away from them did as he was told. As soon as the office door shut the man to his left placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, gripping it painfully. 

"You're gonna come with us, pretty boy. You and I are going to have a little chat about what you did to my little sister last week,” 

Standing up the man on his right gripped his other shoulder, and Jensen’s stomach fell to his feel. 

“You're a hard one to find you know," he snarled, looking at Jensen like he was a piece of meat. 

Jensen swallowed hard. He was screwed and he knew it. He stood quickly and swung at the man to his right that was holding his shoulder, hoping his years of playing a hunter on TV had paid off. 

Before his fist even met the man's face the other three men grabbed Jensen and threw him over one of the tables in the bar, tying his hands together with a twist ty tightly. The large tattooed man clicked his tongue disapprovingly at Jensen, then leaned down, pressing all his body weight onto Jensen’s back, licking the side of his neck. His hot breath and tongue made Jensen’s stomach lurch, and he fought against the uncontrollable urge to throw up. 

"You shouldn't have done that boy," he said, as he stood up, and the other men hauled Jensen to his feet, slapping silver duct tape over his mouth they started dragging him out the front door. Jensen struggled the best he could. Before he reached the street something hard came down on his head. 

A sharp pain shot through his body, and everything went black. If only it had stayed black.

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

Tag List:

@deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​

Series Tag List:

@imaginationisgrowth​

@idksupernatural​ 

@fuzzycloudsz 

@supernatural-bellawinchester​ 

@vicmc624​

[eueden]

 ⟨ MAUDE APATOW. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, EDEN KOPPELMAN is actually a descendent of H E S T I A. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-THREE year old VETERINARY from CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite THOUGHTFUL & QUIXOTIC.

hi, hello, allô, hola, ciao, ella here again with another character. okay so there’s not much to say about me that most of you don’t already know, i have no life and i’m always lurking even if i never do replies (don’t tell the admins) hgsghssghs anyway, this is eden and in a shocking turn of events i actually have a good idea of who she is and look i even made a graphic, if that’s ain’t dedication then i don’t what it is.

basic information.

NAME: eden atara koppelman

PRONUNCIATION: EE - d uh n

NICKNAME: E?? idk

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: brisbane, queensland, australia

HOMETOWN: cape town, south africa

DATE OF BIRTH: june 26, 1997

AGE: twenty-three

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual so far but secretly curious

MAJOR: veterinary

EXTRACURRICULARS: president of the jewish student association, vice president of the herpetology club, president of the volunteer service, women in leadership member, student government member

SPORTS: captain of the climbing team and co-captain of the track & field team

character inspo.

Jessica Day (New Girl) ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

Elliott Reid (Scrubs) ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

Amy Santiago (Brooklyn 99) ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

background.

tw: death, infant death, car accident, fire

Eden was born in Brisbane, Australia. She comes from an animal lover family. Her grandparents are very popular down under because they had an animal TV show à la Steve Irwin. Her dad followed their footsteps and it’s a well-known zoologist who also had some TV shows (think of Bear Grylls).

TW: death, infant death, car accident. Matthias Koppelman (her dad) had been previously married but lost his wife and child in a car accident and after that he isolated himself from the public eye and moved to Namibia. 

At twenty-eight, he felt the need to climb Mount Everest as one does, ya know? But ofc this man hadn’t climbed in years (he had experience but he’d been too sad to climb mountains. I mean he could barely leave bed, let alone climb Everest). That didn’t stop him and he did.

He almost d worded there bc as I said he was not ready but that’s when Hestia queen of fire showed up and warmed him (in a non sexual way bc she’s pure okay) and he was like oh that was a near dead experience and didn’t think much.

After he conquered the Everest with the help of Hestia, he moved back to Australia and oh surprise a few months later he opened his door and voilá a bebé was there with a note that said “you deserve to have a family, love hestia” 

He was shocked like “did i just impregnate a fantasy?”  but then Hestia was kind enough to send another and explain everything.

Anyway, Eden lived in Brisbane for four years before her dad took a job in South Africa. They moved to Cape Town (and her grandparents came with them) and pretty much had a happy life surrounded by animals. 

TW: fire. When she was nine, her dad took her to a game reserve in Limpopo and by some reason a fire started endangering animals and flora. Everyone was panicking bc I mean wouldn’t u? But Eden was attracted to the flames like a pyro (the good kind tho) and since everyone had better things to do than taking care of a child, they left her unsupervised and she delved into the fire.

Ofc nothing happened to her because ✨immunity✨ but guess who showed up again? Hestia!!!! Being a great goddess and mom, she taught Eden how to use her powers so she could absorb the fire and save all the animals and people. 

Everyone was like holy shit a miracle and the firefighters were like “the fuck? we did shit but we gonna take the credit lol”

Eden was like “did that just happen?” and yes, it did but she was like “meh that was imagination” and her dad was like *nervous chuckle* “yeah…” because he didn’t want to tell her the truth since that could put her in danger.

At 13, she had her bat mitzvah and it was all fun and games until fire lady showed up aka Hestia. Her dad and Hestia explained everything and Eden was like: 

Hestia claimed her and off to camp she went. For the next few years she went to camps all over the world as a treat.

She never went on a quest bc she was afraid and also because she couldn’t put herself in danger and risk losing her life bc her dad already had lost a child… so yeah

Her dad remarried when she was seventeen and a year later she welcomed a new baby brother and that’s why she decided to take a gap year to be with her bro and also work with her dad in the reserves.

She moved to Athens when she was nineteen and decided to go into veterinary school. So yes Ella will get her dog one way or another idc what the admins say :chaos:

Ahhhh that’s all folks!!! We did it!

FULL BIO (yes, i completed it this time)

personality.

Eden never loses her sense of curiosity. You could say that she sees life through rose colored glasses as if she lived on the edge of a mirror country where worldly objects come to life, where flora and fauna assume almost human qualities.  

She has the ability to see the good in almost anyone or anything and tends to sympathize with even the most unfriendly person. She often hides the extreme depth of feelings from her, even from herself, until circumstances elicit a passionate response. 

She has a deep sense of idealism that comes from a strong personal sense of right and wrong. She sees the world as a place full of possibilities and potentials and is governed by her intuition. She is quite reserved and is not easily manipulated. 

She is a good listener and considerate, they try to care for and understand others in a deep way. She can be very calm and intuitive with the people around her, being able to search for hidden meanings in the actions and words of others.

Of course, all of life is not rosy and Eden is not exempt from suffering the same disappointments and frustrations that are common to others. She tends to be a perfectionist and often strives for personal ideals that can be exhausting or very difficult to obtain.

She also struggles with time management, always leaving everything to the last minute claiming she “works better under pressure” but the truth is she’s just a procrastinator. 

Very sensible, she cries almost every day either because of a commercial or a sweet story she read on Facebook. It doesn’t matter, if it’s slightly emotional she will shed some tears.

powers.

pyrokinesis: This power first manifested when she was nine years old and she helped to save an animal reserve from the flames with the help of Hestia. Since she was claimed when she was thirteen, she’s learned how to use this power. Now she can summon fire without any problem and put it out just as fast. This is very helpful because she loves baking but she’s a bit clumsy so she often burns herself, but thankfully, she’s immune, so no pain. However, Eden has never been able to create a hot wall of flames nor she has ever asked how to do that, she just hopes she never has to use it.

serenity inducement: Eden avoids conflict at all cost, not only it makes her cry but also makes her very uncomfortable and anxious which is why this was the first power she manifested. She was just a child but from what she remembers it was during a class in preschool that a kid started hitting another one. Eden panicked at such an act of violence she went there and touched the bully’s shoulder which immediately calmed him. Back then she didn’t know it was a power but after finding out about her true identity, many other events like this started to make sense. This is the power she uses the most, also with animals which is why she makes such a good veterinarian because she can calm an animal's nerves.

bond manipulation: She wouldn’t say this is one of her weakest powers but it’s one she didn’t use often growing up because she came from such a stable family that it didn’t seem necessary, however, she sometimes catches herself using it in group projects or at her workplace, you know, to keep things healthy and positive.

ability to summon food: By far the one she uses the least (personally speaking), she likes cooking and baking, so she doesn’t see the point but she does use it to feed stray animals.

headcanons.

Eden speaks fluent English, she has a mixed South African and Australian accent but she can switch. At school, half of her classes were in Afrikaans, so she also speaks it fluently. Greek comes from her demigod side, but she also took some classes back in school upon her father’s request. Growing up in a very Jewish family, her grandparents believed it was pretty important that Eden learned Yiddish and Hebrew, she can read it perfectly but struggles speaking it, especially Yiddish because she also attended Hebrew school. As for French, she learned in high school and she still takes lessons at Eonia but she hates it.

Her father started taking her to a climbing gym when she was five and by the time she was ten she was already climbing 6a routes which is pretty much an intermediate level and very impressive for her age. 

She had her own TV show on Discover Kids titled “Eden’s Wildlife Adventure” in which she explained the importance of different types of animals. The first seasons were shot between Australia and South Africa, but in later seasons she traveled across Africa and South America. The show ran from 2005-2011 (which was when she was claimed).

Dreams of climbing Mount Everest before her 30th birthday.

Her father is a classic rock band and so is she. Her animals have been named after influential musicians. Right now she has a cat named Hendrix, a horse named Cobain, a dog named Mick. Growing up her father took care of a baby lion which they named Little Richard because he was smaller than most lion cubs. Over the years, his father and grandparents have fostered several wild animals while they recover or before they are sent to a reserve. Among the animals they have fostered are elephants, giraffes, zebras, cheetahs, leopards, hippos and more.

While she loves rock, she’s also a sucker for 2000s pop. Please don’t ask her about modern artists because she’s clueless. 

She’s fed up with the Mean Girl jokes, we get it she grew up in Africa and she’s white.

She is a proud Jewish girl and follows many traditions. She does attend the local synagogue during Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah. And of course, Hanukkah is her favorite holiday. Her family practices Reform Judaism, so she doesn’t follow a kosher diet.

Eden was raised as a vegan and her whole family is vegan. In the past years, she has been in the process of becoming vegetarian.

Favorites: Anything written by Agatha Christie(book); Say Anything (1989) (movie); Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fear (song); 

Again, no one asked me but I will reply: “Ella, does Eden hate Iker?” “Well, thanks for asking. In a shocking turn of events, no she doesn’t. How come you might ask? Well, she doesn’t hate anyone but if she ever did then yes, she would hate him.”

pinterest | wanted connections

[steveusesfaberge]

Better Parent (pt. i)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: Steve’s approached by the Henderson duo while at work, and can’t help but lose himself in Y/N’s essence. He’s also extremely offended by her notion of claiming she’s the better party parent than himself...do they realize they’re simply an old married couple in the works? Nope.

Type/Style: Imagine, female pronouns

Warning(s): Fluff~, Clumsy Steve heeds all warnings... Oh, and a bit of cursing! >.<

Word Count: 3k

a/n: This is my first published Imagine of Stranger Things! I hope you all enjoy! Please send requests! I’m excited to write for you all! <3

Part 1 (you are here) - Part 2 - Part 3

                                ━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!-- The obnoxious noise of Scoops Ahoy’s service bell sounded off; resulting in the employees’ groaning in irritation. At the moment, Steve was sitting in the small backroom, playing a game of cards with Robin. The said girl peeked out the somewhat cracked sliding shutters and gave a wicked grin in her brunette friend’s direction. Steve raised an eyebrow as he placed his cards face-down on the table (knowing fully that if given the chance, the sneaky co-worker would cheat).

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” He asked with a creeping suspicion. He stretched in his chair, not having the motivation to attend to the customer with the speedy service they were demanding. Robin rolled her eyes. “If you weren’t in here, squatting on your ass - and actually doing your job - you’d realize who our fine customer in waiting is.” At that, Harrington leaned over to see for himself who this ‘fine customer’ indeed was, and when his eyes found his target - Steve practically fell out of his seat. “Y-You--It’s--I’m--wha--,” He was cut off as Robin pulled him to his feet by his shoulders. “Listen, dingus. If you stay here blubbering about it, she’s gonna think you’re irresponsible and can’t hold a job. Can’t have that now, can we?” Steve glared at her for the obvious usage of sarcasm and tease. “Now go,” Robin prodded,” It’s your turn anyway. You owe me from yesterday - leaving me to deal with Ms. Free Samples for an hour.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she shook her head giving him one final shove towards the doorway,” Yeah, yeah, you look great...no one pulls that uniform off like you do,” he didn’t appreciate her banter.

With that, Steve managed to pull himself out of the backroom - his hands nervously tampering with his (ridiculous) outfit; making sure he looked somewhat presentable. Normally, Steve was an ace at socializing - flirting was his forte and there was no denying it. But ever since he graduated...it seemed his high school charm had faded...turning into this...awkward...babysitter of six, ice cream scooping, monster fighting (total badass if you asked Steve), clumsy persona. Not exactly his ideal image of grabbing himself a date.

It was like, his whole game had been thrown off - and he’d complained to the kids more than enough when they ridiculed him for still not having a girlfriend. “Hey! I used to be a chick magnet! -- I-I still am!” “Yeah, yeah - make fun of me! It’s ‘cause of this dumb hat! My hair! -- The hat’s a cockblocker!” Despite his weak attempts at excusing himself; the party always seemed skeptical. Ugh...

“Ahoy, losers! Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? -- I’ll be your Captain...what’s up Hendersons?” He greeted in traditional Scoops Ahoy fashion. Dustin always thought it was stupid, but Steve did it nonetheless - as he learned it always earned a giggle from the older Henderson.

“Hey, Steve, we’re just here for our usuals. Dusty’s gonna go hang out with the rest of the crew after this.” His attention was pulled to the girl before him. Simple (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) eyes, and a (y/s/t) complexion. Yet, he’d never wanted to run his fingers through someone’s hair so much...and had never wanted to simply stare into someone’s eyes for so long...or touch someone’s perfect, smooth skin--

“Helllllooo? Steve? Earth to Harrington? Did you hear me?” The brunette was snapped from his daze and he winced at the call to attention. “Um, yeah, um, yeah...um..........w-what?” His face heated up as he moved to scratch his neck, his hands then clumsily trying to hold himself up against the counter in the coolest pose he could muster in his flustered state. Dustin groaned, rubbing his eyes as he’d have to re-explain himself, but Steve was only concerned with the beautiful melody of a laugh falling from Y/N’s lips.

“You’re such a dork, Harrington,” she snorted while shaking her head, a hand placed to Dustin’s shoulder. Steve could only offer her a sheepish grin.

“He said, the gang was going to Wheelers’ house after this - and Dusty was asking if you could help me take all the kids there,” she rolled her eyes,” They’re too lazy to ride their bikes back, so we’d have to split them up in our cars.” Dustin pursed his lips, hands crossed over his chest as if saying ‘duh. You’d know that if you’d listened the first time, dumbass’.

“Uh, y-yeah, yeah. S-sure. I’m-m, uh, not doing anything after my shift. So, I’ll take them, yeah.” Dustin couldn’t help but cringe at Steve’s attempt at casualty. Either way, it seemed his sister didn’t even notice.

“Sweet! Glad to have you on board, Captain Steve.” She mused.

“The pleasure’s mine, Missy.” He’d managed the sentence without a hiccup and he was silently thanking his lucky stars. The small smile on her lips had sent him into an overdrive of ecstasy.

“Well anyway - I’d hate to be...that person...but can you get the ice cream now, Steve? I told Lucas I’d be with them...like...seven minutes ago.” Dustin interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

Steve glanced back to the curly-haired kid and nodded while rolling his eyes. “I’m so sorry, good sir. Let me get your dessert ready, heaven forbid those dipshits to wait another second!” Dramatically, he pulled a hand to his head and fluttered his eyelids closed for emphasis. Y/N shook her head, laughing to herself as she pulled the money from her pocket in preparation.

Dustin only groaned in annoyance and made a face at the young man.

Within the next few minutes, Steve had both of their orders made - he didn’t need to be reminded of the order themselves, as both were known by heart. “A banana split, with extra hot fudge, whipped cream, one scoop chocolate, two scoops vanilla, no caramel or peanuts - and yes, the chocolate scoop is bigger than the vanilla,” he placed it down in front of the pair and he saw the surprise on Y/N’s face and he caught the narrow-eyed glance Dustin threw him, as he recited the order perfectly...almost. “Oh, what about the--,” “Side order of chocolate chips? To, y’know, sprinkle on yourself?” His hand came up to do the motion of ‘sprinkling’; then adding a crooked smile the order was complete.

“And a regular sundae for my man,” he slid the other half of the purchase over while Y/N was still trying to overcome her shock.

“How...did you remember all that?” She asked while quirking an eyebrow.

Since the conversation began, Steve had slowly gained some of his cool and confidence. At least he was able to keep his words from tumbling over one another like a race to the finish line...

He shrugged. “I figured I’d remember it since it’s so complicated. Besides, you come in here like...every day, every other day...if I didn’t remember it, I’d be stupid.” She only grinned.

“If you didn’t know it by now, I’d think you were stupid too. How long have we been friends, Harrington? Two...three years?” Y/N questioned while holding out the exact amount of money to pay for the said ice cream.

“Have fun, lovebirds - I’m gonna find the others,” Dustin grumbled, excusing himself from what he thought, was an awkward conversing between sibling and best friend/idol.

Steve and Y/N only blushed at the notion of lovebirds, looking away from one another in the process. “That’ll be five-forty-seven, right?” Y/N said, clearing her throat. “Normally, yeah. But this one’s on the house.” Steve replied with a soft smile.

“You sure?” Y/N questioned, money still hanging in the air, her words slow.

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p’ and gave a nod to reassure her.

“Since when was Steve Harrington so nice?” She asked while giving him a fake dubious glance. Moving to stand to the side of the counter, in case someone else came in to be served.

Steve lifted a hand to his chin, as if in thought, and then leaned his arms on the counter’s surface. “I dunno...since, maybe...he realized he needed to be?”

He knew he hadn’t always been the best...erm...person. Steve was well aware of how much of an ass he’d been in the day, and so for him to give her such an answer - it was probably more sincere than she was expecting. Which was why he felt the need to have been nicer sooner; as the small lift of her lips had his knees go weak.

He watched as Y/N placed the spoonful of custard in her mouth, the short silence between them not uncomfortable in the slightest. They spent plenty of time together - from chaperoning the children to hanging out one-on-one, and even fighting off Upside Down nightmares together... If anything, Steve shouldn’t have an issue with talking to her at all. Yet, he did...because...well...who wouldn’t be a hot mess in front of someone so heart-stoppingly gorgeous in every aspect?

“Hm. I think the children are making you soft, Stevie,” she concluded while chuckling. Now seating herself on the countertop, turning her body to face his. He had to swallow the heat rising up because she looked breathtaking... Like a queen sat on a throne. Steve being just a commoner; the privilege of seeing such royalty before him...of course he’d be speechless.

“W-What? Soft! I’m not soft! Those dipshits just need a good role model, you know?” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him; his defensive state only proving her point. ”Besides,” he added,” I have to be responsible and nice...with you as the other role model, one of us has to be a good influence.”

“Pfft, as if! You’re the one who has the issues, Mr. I take an hour to do my hair,” Y/N scoffed while shaking her head.

“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t bash me,” Steve replied while moving to wipe down the countertop. “You gotta make sure you look the part too, Y/N.”

He glanced at her for a few seconds and then noted,” And it’s an hour and a half. For your information, dork.” It only caused her to sputter a laugh, trying to hold still so her sundae wouldn’t fall.

The conversation carried on, finally losing the playful heat and turning to their usual ‘talk about everything and anything, we have nothing else to do while we wait for the children’. Steve always loved these moments...their conversations always made his day - because just talking to her about why her neighbors were the reason she didn’t sleep at night....was enough for Steve.

 During that time, Robin made her appearance and for a good few minutes, she’d stolen Y/N’s attention completely. To which, Steve only pouted and had a silent conversation with Robin about, through eye-contact.

What’re you doing? What is there a problem? Yes! This is supposed to be me, trying to woe her! You’re doing a wonderful job! Oh, shove one up it - will you? I’m trying!

“Wait - Steve, you tried to get Jenny Calif? Like...plastic Jenny Calif?” Y/N snickered as Robin re-enacted last week’s shenanigans of Harrington trying to score a date. He only flushed red.

“I...mean...it didn’t look like that.” He defended meekly. Gesturing to Robin standing a few feet away while trying to hold her imitation of him.

“So what? - Jenny Plastic Calif? I knew you were...like...desperate...but...I didn’t think you were...King Steve level desperate.” Y/N scoffed, a tease to her haunting words. Steve was taken back, they both promised to never bring up his...asshole phase...

He didn’t recognize her slightly insulting words for jealousy though, more so as disbelief and shock. Robin saw this though and tried to act on it.

“I know, right? This dingus was all like ‘Oh Jenny, haven’t seen you in a while...lookin’ good,’ and I was sitting in the back trying to drown out my agony.” Robin watched Y/N curiously and could make out the slender twitch of her lips. It seemed she was just as annoyed as anyone should be...when their (practical) boyfriend was making moves on another woman.

“Tsk,” Y/N sounded while pushing her empty dish to the side. The spoon still hanging out of her mouth, she moved over, booping Harrington’s nose. “You know better than that, Steves...you shouldn’t try and...cross species.”

Steve couldn't help the quirk of a smile. “Why’re you being so...ruthless...Y/N?” He whined while frowning. She shrugged. “Desperation is only cured by reality and truth.” Harrington groaned and gave her a gentle shove.

The duo continued their shift, accompanied by Y/N to entertain them through the process of work and waiting around. Steve was glad she was there to keep them company...if he were alone with Robin...Good Lord, all she’d do was drill it into him how oblivious he is, and how bad he is at getting your attention... By the time calling it quits rolled around, Robin was already on her way out.

“See ya tomorrow, dingus! Bye Y/N/N!” She called while waving. Leaving out the back door.

Y/N turned to Steve and he was just finishing closing the lids of ice cream, leaving every set up for whoever was to work the next shift. “What?” He urged, catching her stare. She only walked to the cash register and patted the free space beside it.

“No tip jar?” Steve only shrugged and pulled his hat off, running his fingers through his hair.

“I guess we didn’t think about it. Could get one starting week, I suppose.” He figured he could draw in some customers with luck...I mean, his good looks...right? Though some luck he had...it was like Steve The Hair Harrington fell off the face of the earth...

Y/N nodded and then said,” I’d leave a tip every time - just for your sorry ass.” Steve rolled his eyes as she continued,” I mean...Scoops’ gonna need more than a few bucks to hire a better sailor boy than you, right?”

“O-uch,” Steve retorted while holding his chest in ‘pain’. “You’re so mean...God, no wonder Dustin wishes I was his brother...Maybe he’s saving up for a new sibling.”

“Pfft, shut up, Harrington. Try all you want - the kids love me more, despite what you tell yourself before your bedtime.” Y/N explained while jutting a hip out. To which, Steve bumped purposefully as he walked from behind the counter. Only drawing that, oh-so-sweet grin from her...God, he was addicted to it.

“Yeah, right. That’s why they come to me when they need something,” he pointed out while the pair began walking towards the food court - where the kids said they’d meet them after Steve’s shift ended.

Standing so close to Y/N, Steve found his heart racing faster than what was good for him. Yet, her presence washed a calming sense...ironic really. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be six miles away from her...or six inches away. Either way, he wouldn’t be happy...

“They come to you because you give them everything they ask for,” Y/N laughed while expressing herself with a twirling hand-gesture.

“You’re just jealous.” He decided.

“And you’re just a gullible, delusional dork who gives our children whatever they want.” Y/N countered.

The only thing that Steve processed though was our children. Was this a sign? Did she mean that she wanted kids with him? With having a child that meant having a relationship with him...right? Like he’d be their father, and Y/N would have to be their mother...to make them...their children...well, he supposed they could always adopt--

“Steve? Helloooo? Goddamnit, he’s doing that thing again!” Dustin groaned. Steve hadn’t even realized they’d made it to where the party was and everyone was staring at him; as he stared at Y/N.

“Y/N/N what did you do to him?” Dusty accused while pointing a finger at her.

“Me? This idiot just stopped responding!” Y/N told while throwing her hands in Harrington’s direction.

“He’s probably just upset I’m the better parent.”

“Here they go again,” Steve caught the teasing mutter from Lucas to Mike and the exchange of a head nod between the gang.

He felt flustered and finally found his voice again. “You!? Wait - what? Since when! I drive them everywhere, I get them free ice cream, free-range in walking around backstage of the mall--,” He ranted off all the things he did and had ever done, for them and it only had Y/N smirking the kids laughing.

“See? What’d I say, guys? Gull-i-ble.” she articulated, speaking slowly as if to a child as she poked Steve’s chest.

“Yeah...Y/N’s right, Steve. You’re just easier to convince.” Max noted with a snort, she could see it a mile away...the way they argued like a married couple...

“I mean...you’re kinda soft for a guy who was once King of High School,” Lucas chipped in while shrugging.

“I think you’re just stup--,” Dustin was cut off as Steve grabbed his shoulders, pushing the curly-haired Henderson to the nearest exit.

“Alright, dickheads. If you don’t wanna ride your damn bikes home - shut your mouths and get going.” He grumbled.

“Moody, sarcastic shit,” Y/N whispered to El and Max who only nodded hiding their amusement with their hands. The three girls walked behind the comical duo - Dustin struggling to get Steve’s hands off him, and Steve struggling to keep Dustin moving forward.

“I can’t tell which is worse,” Mike started while walking with Lucas and Will.

“What? The way Dustin doesn’t seem to realize Steve trying to get with his sister?” Will asked while shaking his head.

“Or how Harrington and Henderson can’t seem to realize they like each other?” Lucas added in a slow tone.

“Like I said,” Mike snickered,” I can’t tell which is worse.”

---------

How does part two sound? I think so! >.<

[aion-rsa]

Why Wonder Woman’s Real Origin Story Lies in First Wave Feminism

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This holiday season, one of the few bright spots for families unable to go to theaters—and even those who did—was Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman 1984. An ambitious and vibrantly colored celebration of heroism in all its forms, including those that don’t end in fistfights, it’s a superhero movie that’s won as many fans as detractors. But while basking in the new spectacle is well and good, it’s also worth considering how it came to be. For even in this HBO Max tentpole, one can still see how the feminist movement of the early 20th century is grafted into the very DNA of the Wonder Woman character, her origin, and even her most contentious iconography… something that rarely gets acknowledged in the broader comic fan community.

The character of Wonder Woman was created by Dr. William Moulton Marston in 1941. A psychologist with an eclectic career, Marston went from inventing the lie detector test while still an undergraduate at Harvard in 1914 to being essentially blacklisted from academia by the age of 33. But of course his most enduring legacy came afterward; it came when he engineered a superheroine intentionally designed to be a great role model for girls and boys.

As Marston famously said, “Frankly, Wonder Woman is psychological propaganda for the new type of woman who, I believe, should rule the world.” However, the actual political and sociological influences on Marston and the women who helped him create Diana are often overlooked, even as the character has come to dominate pop culture.

Marston, rather infamously nowadays, lived a polyamorous lifestyle with his wife Elizabeth Holloway Marston, and a second partner named Olive Byrne. Byrne is often credited in the 21st century as the inspiration for Wonder Woman (instead of a wedding ring, Marston gave her two bracelets that are identical to those worn by Diana Prince). Yet it is very likely that Holloway Marston had just as much influence. After all, she was a lover of Greek antiquity and until her death kept a book of Sappho’s poetry from the island of Lesbos within reach.

Still, it is Byrne’s influence that historian and esteemed Harvard professor, Jill Lepore, most untangles in her riveting portrait of the Marston family, The Secret History of Wonder Woman. Lepore, who holds the title of David Woods Kemper ’41 Professor of History at Cambridge, zeroed in on Byrne’s relation to the early feminist movement at the turn of the century and its impact on Marston, recasting Wonder Woman as a bridge between the suffragist movement and the generation who grew up reading Wonder Woman comics before fighting for the “women’s liberation movement.”

Olive Byrne was born in 1904, the daughter of Ethel Byrne and the niece of Margaret Sanger, the latter of whom founded what became known as Planned Parenthood (Margaret also coined the term “birth control”). In 1916, Ethel and Margaret opened in Brooklyn the first United States birth control clinic, and received jail time at a workhouse for their trouble. There Ethel nearly starved to death while going on a hunger strike. During this time, a 12-year-old Olive Byrne was being raised in a Catholic orphanage because her father and grandparents had died, and Ethel Byrne was not interested in raising her daughter.

Despite their absence, Olive held her mother and aunt’s politics in high regard. And those ideals would reverberate in Wonder Woman comics too. They were thoughts informed by the circle of New York intellectuals and early 20th century socialists Margaret and Ethel interacted with in Greenwich Village. Among their contemporaries were Upton Sinclair, Emma Goldman, and a very notable Lou Rogers.

Lou was actually named Annie Lucasta Rogers, but because she was told she couldn’t get work as a woman cartoonist, she initially submitted her work as “Lou” via the mail. Her historic drawings of women being able to finally break off the shackles of patriarchy by using the right to vote are echoed throughout Marston’s Wonder Woman comics, just as much as the author’s own fascination with male and female domination and submission.

In the 1910s, feminists and suffragist literature was rife with Amazonian imagery that would live again in the pages of DC. For example, Max Eastman published in 1913 a book of verse called Child of the Amazons and Other Poems. In it, an Amazonian girl must confess to her queen that she has fallen in love with a man. Yet Amazonian law forbids any warrior to marry or bear children until she has produced significant change in the world. Thus the young Amazon abandons her romance, stating she won’t seek love again until “the far age when men shall cease / their tyranny.” This is echoed in Wonder Woman comics as Diana repeatedly, and flatly, refuses to marry Steve Trevor.

In one classic Marston story, a dopey Steve whines, “Angel, when are we going to be married?” Diana coolly fires back, “When evil and injustice vanish from the Earth!”

More appropriate still is Inez Haynes Gillmore’s Angel Island. Published in 1914, after Gillmore co-founded the National College Equal Suffrage League, Angel Island envisions five American sailors who are shipwrecked on an island that’s crawling with “super-humanly beautiful” women with wings. Driven mad by lust, the men capture the women and cut off their wings, leaving them helpless as none has ever walked with their feet. But eventually one of the angels leads a violent revolution “with the splendid, swinging gait of the Amazon.”

This too echoes early Wonder Woman stories of the heroine being chained or rendered powerless by men who would wish to dominate her in every sense of the word. It is, after all, the fate her mother Hippolyta had to free the Amazons from in bloody battle.

Men trying to chain Diana or rob her of her powers by either bounding her bracelets together or removing them was also a common occurrence in ‘40s Wonder Woman comics, particularly those authored by  Marston. In one memorable Marston story, a man unaware that Diana Prince is Wonder Woman even chains her to a stove so she cannot leave the kitchen. Diana retorts with a smirk, “How thrilling! I see you’re chaining me to the cookstove. What a perfect caveman idea!”

The year of 1915, meanwhile, saw the publication of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland, another feminist tale of an uncharted utopia of only women. For thousands of years, this lost paradise’s women have reproduced asexually, not unlike how Diana is born to Hippolyta in the comics after the Amazonian Queen sculpts her out of clay. These women of “herland” know nothing of fear, war, or even basic concepts of property. Unfortunately, three male American students find them and fall in love, each marrying one woman. But then each is thunderstruck that they cannot consummate their relationship whenever they want. In this thinly veiled allegory about the need for birth control, two of the men are banished when one tries to rape his wife, and another expresses confusion as to how rape can be a crime in marriage.

“The women [of Herland] are Amazons because, in the nineteen-teens, reporters routinely used the name to describe suffragists,” Lepore said in a recent article in The New Yorker. “So did suffragists themselves in both the U.K. and the U.S., including Elizabeth Holloway.”

The writers of these stories were also contemporaries and even sometimes neighbors of Olive’s mother, Ethel. And just as Olive helped introduce a worshipful admiration for her aunt Margaret Sanger and Planned Parenthood to the Marstons, with whom she built an unorthodox home, so too did she seemingly inform (along with Holloway Marston’s love for antiquity) what became the Wonder Woman origin story, which was recently given new life by Jenkins and Gal Gadot in 2017’s Wonder Woman.

There is of course the question of whether the new movies fully embrace these legacies. Lepore, for one, is skeptical, writing in 2020 that “Patty Jenkins seems to be interested in history… But she’s apparently not at all interested in the history of women: it’s got no place in either of her two ‘Wonder Woman’ films, even though they both take place during major inflection points in that history.”

However, the hard-won victories of that history, and how Marston seeded the ideals of its first wave into his comics, is still inextricably linked to Gadot’s Wonder Woman. We see it when she stands with a near divinity over Chris Pine on a beach in the 2017 movie, unaware and undisturbed by the preconceived limits a patriarchal society would place on her; and we see it when Wonder Woman can defeat villainy and greed in Wonder Woman 1984 without having to throw a single punch.

So for whatever bondage iconography that also clearly seeped its way into Marston’s creation, there is a definite through-line of a century’s worth of feminist ideals that connect the fantasies of the suffrage movement to the icon of female empowerment that the women’s liberation movement claimed Wonder Woman to be when she was placed on the cover of Gloria Steinem’s Ms. magazine in 1972. And a hundred years later, it lives on like Amazons and angels on the big screen.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The post Why Wonder Woman’s Real Origin Story Lies in First Wave Feminism appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3npUrcO