#like careful wound tending and steve now feeling safe

[lazer-meme]

having omegaverse steddie thoughts,,, like omega steve unconsciously purring while eddie dresses his wounds

[luveline]

i hope you’re feeling better jade!!🫶🫶

i’d love to request zombie!au steve of when he starts to realize he has feelings for reader if you haven’t already done smth like that

zombie au —Steve has some deep thoughts about you. 1.3k

“How are you feeling?” 

Steve bats a branch out of his face. “I’m okay.” 

“Yeah?” You hold the next branch out of his way. “Sorry, guess I’ve asked you that too many times today.” 

Four times, by his count. Steve takes a deep breath, the warm summer air filling his nose, the smell of earth and tree bark an assault for the senses. He has the heavy backpack strapped tight against his chest, the buckle rubbing his skin raw. His thin t-shirt offers no protection. Your coats have been packed away in the second backpack hanging from your left shoulder. You carry the canteens on your right, all six of them heavy with fresh water. You don’t complain. 

“I’m fine, I swear,” he says, squinting at the white sky. 

“You won’t say anything if you don’t feel fine. I just… I don’t want you to throw up again, and I think we can avoid it if you take it easy. If you’re not feeling up to it, that is. Not that you’re not feeling up to it.” 

Steve softens at your overexplaining. You’re used to caring about him a lot and having him snap back at you. He can’t explain it, not without deep introspection —is he emasculated? Defensive? Or just worried he can’t take care of you?— so he doesn’t think about it if he can’t help it. 

It’s harder to ignore when you worry about him. 

“I don’t feel sick,” he says, a promise as he bats another low branch aside and guides you into a clearing, where he pauses. 

“Okay, good.” 

Steve spent the last two days throwing up and recuperating in a shack of a house a few miles back. He gave himself food poisoning eating spaghetti hoops he should’ve known were bad. He doesn’t remember the first day in detail, too busy yacking and feverish, but he does remember your hand on his back. Your gentle hand, your careful fingertips. Remembers you stroking hair away from his mouth. 

It was the first time he’d realised you were his friend. It’s a shameful thing, to have been with you for this long, and to have been ignorant to you this whole time. It’s not that Steve thought you were evil, he just never let himself think about you too much. Never enough to think Hey, this girl I’ve brought with me, she’s good to me. She’s kind. 

He knew you were, obviously. It’s complicated. It’s giving him a headache. 

“Maybe we should stop here.” 

A few days ago he would’ve said No way, are you dumb? You can’t stop here, a clearing doesn’t protect you from the elements, nor a hoard, but he knows you know those things and peacocking his survival skills won’t actually keep you safe. 

He has to stop being in survival mode. Or, in huge jerk mode. 

The feeling of your face pressed to his chest as you slept, each exhale a warmth that settled him. Later, your hand feeling against his forehead, sure he was asleep. You love him. He’s not sure what kind of love, but you do. And he loves you, too, but he’s not sure what kind of love it is either. He estimates that it’s the feeling that comes with surviving a traumatic event (or, in your case, many events) together, caring for each other, tending to each others wounds, mixed with the beginning of a crush. 

Like, he loves you in that he cares very, very deeply for you, and would be wrecked now if something happened to you, but he’s not in love. Not yet. 

He looks out over the clearing. Finally, some clarity.

Steve turns to you and knows he might fall in love with you.  

“I think we should keep going. The tree cover is better, in case it rains again tonight. Maybe the heat’ll break, I don’t know. And I don’t like this, I feel like we could get ambushed from any angle.” He tries not to waver in his explanation. 

“A little rain would be nice,” you say, wiping your eyebrows, “I don’t know about that ambush theory.” 

“Oh, you don’t?” he asks. 

“What are the trees gonna stop?” you ask. 

He recognises an urge to pinch your side and stomps it down. “I don’t know, okay? Leave me alone, my head hurts.” 

“Want some tylenol?” 

He accepts. You walk for another hour or so through the woods until you can see the dark asphalt of a highway. They’re more intimidating, and so you backtrack for fifteen minutes and set up camp beside an incline. It’ll protect you from one angle, at least. 

“You okay?” you ask again. 

Steve lets the canteen he’d been holding fall into his lap. “What can I tell you to make you stop asking me?” he asks genuinely. He doesn’t want you to worry this much about him. 

“We could go back in time and stop you from eating those spaghetti shapes,” you say. 

He likes the way you say it. You look behind you suspiciously, spreading your jacket out and laying the backpack on it before you lie down. You face toward him, your eyes half-lidded. 

You hate the idea of bugs crawling into your hair or ears. Steve bites his lip. 

“What?” you ask. 

“You can lie on me, if you want.” 

“I’m not going to sleep yet, don’t worry.” You curl into yourself. “Let’s make a fire tonight. I know spoiled food is spoiled no matter what, but I think heating that soup’ll give it less chance of upsetting your stomach. It’ll taste nicer, too.” 

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Just a small one, though, when it’s really dark. We’ll stay up.”

“Okay.” You smile, wide and subtly beautiful. 

Is this because you held his hair back while he was sick? Could it be something that minimal? 

You reach across leaf litter to play with his shoelace. After a few minutes, you curl your fingers around the loop. 

You’re starved for touch. He knows how much of a difference it makes at night when he ushers your face into his lap, hand behind your shoulders to hold you. He’s never not given you affection when he thought you needed it, even when he began to suspect you liked him as more than a companion. You’ve never taken advantage of this fact. If you like him, you don’t burden him with it. If anything, your growing crush has made you shier. You're more self conscious. 

He takes your hand. “You already have dirt on your hands,” he says, rubbing your fingers. If you’re hands are dirty, he can’t see it. 

“Your shoe,” you explain. 

He rubs at nothing. Then he holds it just to hold it, feeling the weight of it in his. 

It’s a relief to realise he likes you. He’s confused, but it feels good at the same time. You’re a very easy person to like, even if he’s insisted otherwise before. You can ask questions he finds irrelevant and self explanatory, but for every agitating misunderstanding, you’ve a moment of sweetness. 

You can disagree with him a thousand times, and it doesn’t change how moments like this make him feel. Like he’s found a rare slice of peace. Your arm goes limp, your hand his to do with as he pleases, and he can finally take a breather for the day. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “You’ve been asking me all day, but I didn’t ask you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” 

“How’s your mouth?” he asks. You get toothache from grinding your teeth in your sleep. Some nights, it makes you cry. 

“Fine, really. Doesn’t hurt.”

“How’s your head?” he asks, giving your hand a weak squeeze. 

Your lips twitch, eyes fluttering with something he doesn’t know. “I’m fine, Steve. Great, all things considered. I’m glad you’re not sick anymore.” 

He threads his fingers through yours. “Yeah, me too.” 

[musingginger]

rainbow in the dark // eddie munson

Synopsis – After getting out of the Upside Down and wounding Vecna, you tend to Eddie’s wounds and try to put the pieces back together.

Pairing- Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Eddie Munson x You

Warnings – season 4 spoilers!, season 4 rewrite (no one dies or gets left behind in the Upside Down), some cursing, NON VERBAL/NO DIALOGUE, incredibly angsty, fluff, smut, 18+ only, minors DNI, nipple play, p+v sex, soft!eddie, a tad bit of possessive!eddie, softdom!eddie, crying, emotional breakdown at the end (don’t worry, it ends, sort of happily).

Word Count – 3.3k

A/N- This one got me pretty emotional y’all, which is probably why it took me forever to write. I am fascinated by the way people process grief and big emotions and this work definitely dives into that. I also wanted to challenge myself and write a completely non verbal fic, which was quite the challenge! When I was editing, rereading the ending made me tear up a little bit, so I hope y’all feel the same way about this fic as I do.  Any constructive criticism would be appreciated. Also, this is only edited by me, so apologies if there are typos. And of course, if you enjoy it, please reblog! Hope you enjoy! Thanks! <3

I do not grant permission for anyone to use my work. Under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

You could barely come to grips of what happened in the last few days.

You watched your boyfriend play the most metal concert of all time on top of his trailer in the Upside Down. After which, you had to endure his battle with the demobats. Watching him fall from the bites, it was almost too much to handle.

You’ll never forget hearing the screams coming from Dustin, how your heart pounded in your chest as you ran, your throat sore with screams of your own. Grabbing your shield, you were able to protect the three of you long enough to get out of there. You don’t know how you did it, it was all a blur, but luckily, you and Dustin got there in time, pulled Eddie through the trailer gate and to safety.

Steve, Robin and Nancy weren’t too far behind after wounding Vecna. You all knew that he wouldn’t be down for long, but for now, you were safe.

The drive home was silent. No music played. Just the hum of the engine.

Eddie was numb.

The near-death experience shook him to his core. You felt his legs tremble pressed to yours the whole ride home. His hand griped your thigh like it was the only thing keeping him on this plane of existence. It took everything you had to hold back tears. You placed your hand on the back of his neck, scratching his head lightly.

Steve dropped you and Eddie at your house. No one said anything as you both got out of the caravan and Eddie brushed passed the bushes that covered your front door, holding your hand the entire time.

Once inside, he double locked the door, something he’s never done before. You looked at Eddie as he stood motionless, hand pressed against the door, forehead flush with the wood.

Shell shocked almost.

You could see that he was still trembling, the chain on his jeans glistening in the soft light coming from the hallway. You help Eddie take off his sneakers and socks before kicking off your own. Tenderly, you pull him towards the bathroom.

You turn on the yellow light, causing both of you to squint. You try to pull your hand away carefully, but Eddie has a strong grip on you, unable to let go. With your free hand, you turn on the hot water tap and gently run your wrist through the stream to make sure water comfortable for him.

Your only concern is for him.

As steam starts to fill the small, yet cozy, bathroom, you gently take off Eddie’s outer layers. Jacket first, then Hellfire shirt. Finally, his pants and boxers.

Once the water was hot enough, you coax Eddie towards the clear water, careful of his injuries. He looks down, slowly putting his foot into the wet tile. Sliding down into the shower, making it a murky red brown. He quickly turns his head towards you, locking his eyes with yours.

Those chocolate brown eyes. Full of hurt, of worry, of vulnerability. His grip on your hand tightens, an unspoken need fills the air.

You nod, knowing. You only let go of his hand to strip yourself, sliding into the shower behind him. Eddie presses his body into yours, immediately knowing home.

His home is with you.

His head presses into your shoulder, warm water trickling down his back, making his fluffy curls limp from the weight of the water. Eddie lets out a gentle sigh of relief into your shoulder. Relief of what, you’re not sure.

Luckily the bats didn’t bite too deeply into his skin, and most of his wounds would be fixed with Neosporin and gauze. Fuck, you were thankful for that.

You grab the bar of soap, lathering it in your hand. Then you start the gently rub it across his shoulders, down his chest and up again. The bubbles turn brown against the bar. Eddie let out a small cry as you clean his wounds, which you soothed away with gentle touches.

Once you feel like his body has been scrubbed enough, you do the same on your own shoulders. Though not as dirty as his, you too needed to wash away the bad.

Grabbing Eddie’s shampoo, you release his hand to squeeze some into your hands. When your hands release, Eddie lets out a soft, pleading groan as you turn him around, getting him to face away from you.

You work up a froth from the shampoo and slowly start to work it into Eddie’s long, curly locks. Tenderly, you move your fingers through his coils. Your brow furrows as you hold back your own tears, fingers twirling through his hair. Deep brown and rust colors fill the bath water dripping down his back.

You do the same with his (really your) conditioner. Delicately, you detangle each spiral, watching them fall into a pretty pattern on his head.

Once you feel like he is washed, you can attend to your own hair. He turns to face you, burying himself again in your shoulder. Quickly washing and conditioning your hair, the entire time Eddie holds onto your waist gently. Silently turning him back around to face away from you, you carefully comb through his hair with your fingers and, surprisingly, you find yourself wanting to braid it.

Slender fingers trail through the long waves and start to braid it. Cautiously at first, Eddie didn’t typically let you braid his hair. But when no protestations come from the metalhead, you continue. Warm fingers weave through the tangles, making a plait starting at the crown of his head and working downwards.

You wished you were doing this under different circumstances.

Mostly clean now, you turn off the taps, watching as the dirty water swirls into the drain and use your hands to press Eddie into your chest. You both stand there until the tub is devoid of water, and all that’s left is your bodies.

After a fair amount of time has passed, you gingerly coax Eddie out of the steam and into a fresh, fluffy towel. You tuck it in around his waist before attending to your own, wrapping it around your torso.

He can’t look at you.

Wrapping a towel around yourself, you feel the grip of his rough fingers against your forearm. You find his fingers and lace them with yours, reassuringly.

He’s here. He’s safe. You love him. And he loves you.

You press your forehead against his, breathing him in. Even with the shampoo, the lingering smell of tobacco fills the air. You both close your eyes, enjoying the comforting steam that still filled the bathroom. After a few minutes, you force yourself to pull away from him.

Now you start the tedious task of bandaging him up. Finding the Neosporin, gauze, and bandages in the medicine cabinet, you dump your supplies into the sink. Your eyes scan over his body, finding each cut, scrape and bite. Squeezing ointment onto your fingers, before spreading it every angry red mark. Eddie lets out a wince each time, but you reward his patience with the process with a small arm squeeze or a shoulder kiss.

When you’re all done, you pull him into the bedroom, looking for some clean clothes for you two to wear. The only light guiding you was streaming in through the hallway. Golden hues filter through the abyssal blackness.

It was so dark outside. Too dark. Not even the pale blue moonlight lit your way.

While your hands were filled with band tees and sweatpants, you feel the rough grip of his hand on your shoulder, which makes you turn towards him. His eyes lock with yours. You get lost in the deep chocolate depths of his eyes, wide and bottomless.

He wanted to say something. He wanted to tell you every thought running through his head. But he couldn’t say anything.

Rough fingertips gently slide down your arm, finding your hipbone. Eddie’s wide hand palms your skin delicately. His other hand hovers over your cheek, like he’s not sure what he wants to do exactly. Furrowing his brow, he closes his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

You lean in, cheek brushing against his, as your fingers scratch the curve of his lower back. Eddie breathes softly in your ear; a sound of relaxation and concern leaves his throat. The tips of his fingers finally connect with your neck, so soft you barely could feel it if not for his pulse.

He lowers his head to your shoulder, lips pressed into the crook connected to your neck. Your warm scent fills his nose. Floral, amber and musk.

Eddie takes a small, shuffled step towards you, his bare chest pressing against the fluffy fibers still covering your body. Suddenly overcome by emotion, you press your face into his hair, holding back tears.

Eddie feels you shudder, pulling you into a hug, broad hands leaving warm handprints onto your shoulders. As hard as Eddie tried to hold it back, a hot tear hits your shoulder. Sniffling into your hair, breathing in your scent, reminding him that it’s over.

He’s here. He’s safe. You love him. And he loves you.

He pulls back, once again pressing his forehead into yours, letting out a sigh, noses brushing against one another. It was so silent. Other than your breathing, there was a void. Not even the nighttime noises fill the room. Energy buzzed, making the room shake with your energy.

In a flash, his lips are pressed onto yours. Hot, hungry passion breaks over you. His lips are pressing so hard into you that it hurts, a good hurt. It was a hurt that made you know that he was never going to leave you.

He needed you. Now.

He needed to feel something.

Calloused fingers weave through your damp hair, gripping it tightly as Eddie grips your waist with his other hand. You feel the desperation pulsing through his skin. You needed to feel him just as much as he needed to feel you.

Eddie’s strong tongue pries open your mouth, teeth biting your bottom lip, leaving dark red bruises. Both of your hands grip the sides of his jaw, pulling him in harder.

Wanting him closer. Needing him closer.

The pads of your thumbs leave deep depressions on his skin and hot pink marks on the apples of his cheeks. You feel his nails lightly digging into the nape of your neck as he kisses you with white hot passion.  Eddie’s pulse throbs against the skin on your waist and you feel it quicken with every deep kiss.

He pushes you up against the bedroom wall, careful not to hit your head on the drywall. Eddie lets out a low groan as his lips break from yours, moving down your neck. You feel the hot flash of his teeth grazing against your skin, warm wet kisses pressing against the sensitive skin.

Moaning softly as you close your eyes, wanting to just feel in the moment. He leaves a path of burning fervor up and down the side of your neck. Each kiss harder and rougher than the one before. You nails dig into the muscles of his lower back, holding him in place.

Eddie grasps your earlobe in between his teeth, giving it an intense tug, making you cry out. Nipples hardening under the terrycloth fabric still covering your body. Eddie grabs your hands from behind him, throwing them up above your head.

His fingers lace in yours as he holds them there. You try to catch his lips once again, but he pulls away. His pupils dilated, his eyes almost black, dark, and deep with desire.

He looked like a feral hungry animal, and you were his prey.

You open your mouth to speak, wanting him to know that you were here for him for whatever he needed. A small sound left your lips, the beginnings of a word, but Eddie cut you off, pressing a hard kiss onto your mouth and crushing your body under his.

Softly, Eddie tucks a finger under the top of your towel, pulling back from your lips and looking at you, asking for silent permission. Panting, you nod, your body begging to feel his skin on yours, giving non-verbal consent. Eddie swiftly unhooks the towel from around itself, letting it fall to the ground.

Eddie’s hand relaxes around yours, setting you free, for now. You lean in to kiss his neck delicately. Sliding his hand over your back, slowly trailing his fingers along your spine up to the back of your neck as Eddie feels your warm breath against his ear. He turns you closer towards the bed.

Eddie slides his hand closer to the back of your neck and grabs a handful of your hair, tugging at it firmly as his hand wraps around it. Long tendrils getting caught around his rings. He leans in closer to you, pressing his lips against yours, biting at your bottom lip a little roughly, tugging at it with his teeth before letting it smack against your teeth as he lets go.

You whimper against his lips, hands finding their way to his waistline and his towel. Eddie slides his hand from your hair and slides it slowly over your shoulder. His large fingers wrap around your neck lightly, feeling a bit of a squeeze as your slender hands toy with his towel.

Eddie bites at your earlobe, his fingers tightening around your neck a little tighter. His hand reaches around to your backside and gives your ass a hard smack, making your feet jump slightly from the light pain. He then roughly grabs your ass, biting into your neck again.

You whole body was on edge, a coil ready to snap. You heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest.

Your hands tremble as you loosen the towel around his slender torso. It falls to the floor, his cock released from the confines of the terrycloth. It springs up, pressed between your two bodies as Eddie roughly guides you onto your back on the bed.

Eddie falls on top of you, rough hand around your neck. He presses up just enough to bite at the deep red bruises he’s already left on your puffy lips. The tip of his pink cock gently brushes against your bundle of nerves, making you both groan with desire.

His kisses get desperate now. Panting cuts through the silent night as you both frantically grip at each other. He puts his fingers in his mouth, spitting on two of his digits before swiping it along the head of his cock. Eddie lines himself up with your already dripping pussy. Every second felt like a year. And neither of you could wait any longer.

Eddie places his free hand around your head, semi caging you in, as he slowly enters you. You let out a low cry as he stretches you sweetly and grip his forearm. He takes your hands and clutches them above your head, gently dominating you. The hand he had around your neck moves to your tits, the pad of his thumb flicking your diamond hard nipples.

Each thrust getting deeper, Eddie losing more of himself, lost in you. The tip of his cock taps at your G-spot with every deep stroke. It took everything you had in you to not cum right then and there.

Your fingernails dig into Eddie’s lats, leaving long red marks of passion. Or was it possession? You couldn’t tell in that moment. All you knew is that you needed him closer, you needed more of him.

Your right hand runs up along Eddie’s shoulders, over a bandage and into his hair. You grip the base of his neck tightly as he pulls your leg up, dying to get deeper. Unruly curls get tangled in your fingers, causing you to pull a little harder than you wanted to. Eddie didn’t care though.

A rough bandage rubs against your thigh, making Eddie wince, but the pain wasn’t enough to make him want to stop. You both find a steady pace, Eddie buried deep inside you. There was a mutual ownership in your love making.

Pretty sounds start to escape from your throat and into Eddie’s ear. The metalhead buries his head into your hair and neck, echoing your sounds. Your eyes close, goosebumps erupting all over your skin as you press your head back into the comforter.

The hand on your throat, moves to your neck and is replaced by hot, wet kisses from Eddie. His nose presses into the underside of your jaw as he closes his eyes, furrowing his brow. Torrid pants cover your neck as he slightly picks up his pace leaving droplets of moisture on your skin.

Warm, wet animalistic sounds add to the mixture of pants, groans, and sighs filling the room. You grip onto his hair tighter, as Eddie buries his face into your neck and jaw, pressing hard against your skin. You bite his shoulder, hard, making him let out a feral moan into your ear.

Legs start to shake for both parties as you climb the mountain to your climaxes. You were already teetering on the edge, begging to dive into the euphoric ocean together.

His bush was rubbing against your clit just right as you were desperately trying to hold on for him. Your eyes roll back into your head as you feel his movements become sloppy and erratic. Perfectly imperfect. You knew he was close.

Simultaneously, you both let out guttural screams as you cum together. The skin on both of you was speckled with shades of red and purple. You saw on Eddie’s shoulder the teeth mark your bite had left.

A small smile breaks out across your face for a second, forgetting everything that had happened and just enjoyed the moment. Eddie lets out a sharp chuckle, before suddenly overcome by emotion.

You feel a scorching tear fall onto your delicate skin. Eddie’s body becomes wracked with sobs, as tears stream down his face and into your hair. Low, mournful sounds leave his throat. He slides out of you and tries to roll away from you, covering his eyes, shaking uncontrollably.

You gently grab his shoulder, pulling him into you, softly shushing him. You adjust yourself against the headboard, pressing him closer to you, gently rocking him as he bawls. Running your fingers through his hair, brushing the mats away from his face.

You plant small kisses along his cheeks and forehead while his body let it out. Every scream, every cry, every moan was different from the one before. It made you choke up. Looking up to the ceiling, trying to fiercely hold back your own sobs, brushing back any tears that betrayed you. You had to be strong. You had to be strong for Eddie.

He’s here. He’s safe. You love him. And he loves you.

You stayed like that for a long while. So long that you watched as the color from outside turned from inky black to pale indigo. The sun was coming up.

The rocking eventually soothed Eddie and when you felt his grip soften against you, you knew the worst was over. For now.

Snuggling down into the bed, Eddie still held onto you, abet looser with every minute that was passing. You finally felt the vibrations of his soft snores against your throat. Pale light filtered into the room through a prism you had given Eddie for Christmas last year. The rainbow cascade against his skin, making him look angelic.

A rainbow after all that dark. You couldn’t help but snort at the irony which turned into a sniffle. One lone tear rolled down your cheek and you quickly brushed it away. You had to be strong. As you start to drift off, you say the mantra in your head once more.

He’s here. He’s safe. You love him. And he loves you.

tags: @theoreticslut @immatheoreticslut @misskittysmagicportal

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[a-writer-on-elm-street]

You Have To Let Me Try

PART 3

Pairing: Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie has been laying low after getting out of the hospital and you're forced to finally confront your feelings.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

A/N: Okay so this is the final part. I'm not sure if it sounds kind of rushed but I hope it's okay anyway. Thanks for reading!

It had been about four weeks since Eddie almost died. Three and a half weeks since you snuck him out of the hospital. You didn't really have much money so you were forced to hide Eddie in your trailer. And you were thankful nobody really knew you and him were friends, otherwise someone would've probably found out by now.

When you got him out of the hospital, Steve and Nancy left you some supplies, bandages and different types of dressings. Eddie obviously wasn't ready to be out of the hospital but you had no choice. It was this or let him be sent to prison for crimes he didn't even commit. You didn't mind tending to his injuries if it meant he could keep from getting arrested. You couldn't lose him. Not again.

"Jesus, that hurts." Eddie hissed when you pressed the damp cloth to his side.

"Sorry." You said quietly. "I have to clean it."

"Yeah I know."

You'd probably been doing this around three times a week and you'd gotten quite good at it now. Compared to how long you took when you first started, you were doing significantly better now.

Although, everytime he lifted up his shirt for you to change the dressings, your mind snapped back to the Upside Down. You were reminded of how scared you were. How desperate you were as he slipped away right in front fo you. And you never wanted to feel like that again.

You'd barely even slept these past few weeks because everytime you shut your eyes, you were back there again, desperately clinging to Eddie's body, thinking he was dead.

"(y/n)?" You heard Eddie say, breaking you away from your thoughts. "You good?"

"Yeah, sorry, must've got distracted." You mumbled, shaking your head as you continued cleaning his wounds.

When you were finally finished, you retreated to the bathroom because you were struggling to hold yourself together. You'd done well hiding your torment since bringing Eddie here, but you felt like you were slowly losing it. It was like you couldn't convince yourself that he was safe. That he was here.

"(y/n)?" You heard Eddie through the door. "Is everything okay? It's just...you're being kinda weird."

You didn't even realise you'd begun to cry until you tried to speak, the words coming out as a broken sob. "I'm good."

You opened the door and were met with Eddie's concerned eyes.

"Sorry." You muttered as you walked over to the couch, sitting down. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You can talk to me ya know." He said, sitting down beside you. "I mean, what else is there to do?"

"I just...I dunno, it's like everytime I see what happened to you...I'm just right back there again. And I just feel sick everytime it happens because the thought of losing you is just-"

"But you didn't lose me. I'm right here."

"You shouldn't have tried to be a damn hero." You couldn't help the hatred in your voice as you spoke. "You shouldn't have kept me away."

"I wanted you to be safe."

"Yeah well I wanted you to not go getting yourself killed."

"And I didn't." He said, a confused expression on his face. "(y/n), I don't get why you're being like this. I survived, didn't I? Everything's okay."

"No it's not! I thought you were gone! Dead! And everytime I close my eyes...all I can see is you just...lying there. And I wish I wasn't so damn scared of losing you but I am because I love you!"

The puzzled look on his face quickly transitioned into a grin when you said that. "You...love me?"

"Shut up." You said, embarrassed that you'd even said that out loud.

"I love you too." He suddenly said, carefully pulling you against him. You let your head rest against his shoulder, careful not to touch any of his injuries.

After a minute or so, Eddie finally spoke up. "You won't lose me, okay? I promise."

"Okay."

[Main Masterlist] [Eddie Masterlist]

[cicimunson]

Who Takes Care Of You?

Series Summary: Hawkins is in a sort of apocalypse state after the earthquakes. Steve is neglecting himself to take care of the others, but all you want is to take care of him.

Characters/Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader/Robin Buckley/Jim Hopper

Word Count: Less than 1k, next part will be longer!

Warnings: Steve is hurt, sits nude in the tub, kissing, talking of sexual situations

Steve was exhausted. It was etched in every line on his face. His eyes were dull, his hair hanging limp on his face. He was bruised and sore. Everything hurt.

You watched as he forced a smile on his face, listening to Robin ramble as he clutched his side and tried to act like he was okay.

Scavenging had proved to be a disaster, as a pack of demodogs had come after your group. Luckily everyone made it through with minor injuries, but Steve had taken the brunt of it, as usual, trying to defend everyone else.

You all start to settle in for the night. Steve takes a seat by the front door, holding his axe. If demo-attacks weren’t bad enough, you were also having to deal with looters now that the town was basically an apocalypse zone.

“I got first watch.” He murmurs.

You glance over at Hopper and meet his eyes, then jerk your head towards Steve. He understands right away.

“Actually I’m wide awake. I’ll take the first watch, Steve. You need some rest.”

Steve nods wearily and stumbles to his room. You hurry to the kitchen and make him some sandwiches, grabbing a soda on your way down the hall.

You knock and he opens the door. “You okay? You need something?”

Of course he thinks I need something. Someone always needs something from him.

“No, just thought you might be hungry.”

He’d been so busy making sure everyone else had eaten and had their wounds tended to that he hadn’t taken the time to eat himself.

He smiles gratefully. “Oh, thanks. Those sandwiches look good.”

He takes the plate and gestures for you to come in. You sit on the bed and he scarfs his food down, barely coming up for air, then chugs the soda.

I bet he didn’t eat all day. He’s so busy taking care of everyone else, he forgets to take care of himself.

“Do you want me to run you a bath? You should probably clean those scratches before they get infected." 

He smiles softly. "Uh, yeah. That’d be nice.”

You chase Robin out of the bathroom and start the water. Steve comes in a few minutes later.

“I hope it’s hot enough for you.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you.”

“If you wanna pass me your clothes out the door, I’ll try to get those stains out.”

He hesitates.

“You okay?”

“Actually, would you want to sit in here with me while I soak? I’ll stay covered up, of course. Just don’t feel like being alone right now.”

I’d do anything for him.

You nod and turn so that he can get into the tub. You hear his clothes rustle and then the water slosh around. 

“I don’t know if this washcloth is gonna be big enough to protect my modesty.” He quips.

You snort. “We may have some beach towels in a closet.”

“Probably need one of those big tarps from the garage.”

You both share a laugh.

Steve shifts in the tub. “I’m decent.”

You sit on the toilet beside him.

“This water feels amazing. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“You’re sweet.”

“It was nothing, Steve. Least I could do.”

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod.

“Why are you always doing stuff for me? Not that I’m complaining. I’ve just noticed that you go out of your way for me sometimes.”

“I’m not going out of my way. It’s basic human decency.”

“Is that all it is though?”

“What else would it be?”

“I don’t know…I thought maybe you had a thing for me, or something.”

You frown at him. “Even if I didn’t have a thing for you, I’d still be sweet to you, Steve. You deserve it.”

“Why, though?”

“Because you take care of everyone, Steve. You’re practically raising the kids. You’re fighting monsters every day. You make sure everyone is fed and safe. But who does that for you? Who takes care of you?”

“I guess I never thought of it like that before.”

“That’s because you never think of yourself. You’re the most selfless person I know.”

“I think you are, actually. You try to take care of everyone, too. Who takes care of you, baby?”

The sentiment catches your attention. “Baby?”

He shrugs. “If you like.”

You avert your eyes while he washes himself and gets out of the tub.

“Oh, I actually have something for you, I’ll be right back.”

You hurry to your room and come back sporting a shopping bag.

Steve grins. “You got me a present?”

“Well, it’s not much, but I saw it when we were scavenging today and thought you’d like it.”

He opens the bag. “Farah Fawcett hairspray?”

“Mhm. I know how much you love it and you haven’t had it in awhile so I thought-”

He kisses you.

You’re startled for all of 2 seconds before you kiss him back, your hand going up to the back of his neck.

He moans into the kiss, tugging you closer, then trails his lips down your neck.

"I have a very particular need you could take care of.” He murmurs.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Mhm.” He slides his hands under your shirt.

“What can I do to help?”

Steve grins wickedly. “Let me bend you over the sink.”

“Hmm, I think I can help with that.”

[highdramas]

the world’s a little blurry | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: none

word count: 2107

summary: bucky is home, and he is yours

note: this is a one shot for now, but i definitely have more ideas for these two <3 this’ll be heavily inspired by tfatws so this is a spoiler warning for anything mentioned! also this is my first time writing bucky so pleaseeeeee give me some mercy lol

enjoy! <3

it’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re lucky if you stay up past midnight, so bucky makes a point to be quiet as he tiptoes into the apartment. after a mission gone awry in the apartment building where you had been neighbors, you’ve been staying with the superhero. something about not losing you and you’re safest here. bucky’s not stupid— caring about someone is a gamble, and it had become clear to his enemies who exactly it was that he cared about.

living with you came lots of things that bucky was not expecting. first off, you’re very cluttered. you call it controlled chaos, he calls it a mess. he’s fascinated by the state of your night stand, mostly. a dying plant and one loose airpod, two half empty water bottles, an empty starbucks cup.

second off, you have a cat. her name is katherine, but you call her kitty, occasionally kiki. and while bucky had been determined not to get attached, after awhile, it was difficult not to. she rubbed up on his legs, cuddled in his lap on the couch, slept on his chest in the middle of the night. she’s fucking adorable, and not even the winter soldier can deny that.

third off… you. you as a whole. he’s sure that it would’ve been a shock living with anyone, but the care that you give him… he’s not used to having someone making sure he’s eating. he’s not used to someone checking up on him throughout the day. he’s not used to having someone to come home to.

it’s nice.

it feels safe.

and he’ll kill anyone who tries to take this peace away from him.

bucky groans as he shucks his jacket off, feeling exactly where his muscles ache. he tries to keep his volume minimal. finally, he opens the door to the bedroom. the bedroom that you share.

this was the biggest adjustment of all.

he’d barely slept in a bed at all before you came along. too soft, too comfortable. he told you as much that first night, and what you had said shocked him.

“well, i’ll just sleep on the floor with you.”

no, oh, just get in bed. no, c’mon, it’s nice. none of those things. just understanding.

but it was more than understanding. it was meeting him exactly where he was.

that was three months ago, and you had kept your word. if you weren’t sleeping on the floor with him, you were on the couch with your hand tangling down, brushing along his hair, his shoulder. every time he felt you bucky swore that he could cry.

it was two months ago that he suggested you both sleep in the bed. and while it wasn’t every night, and some nights he padded out to the living room with a blanket and pillow… it was progress.

and he would wake up to find that you had joined him on the floor.

the nightmares weren’t gone. he’s not sure if they ever would be. but they were growing few and farer between, and the ones he did have were growing more manageable.

things were getting better.

of course, they were not perfect. and he knew that you didn’t expect them to be. he has therapy once a week, sometimes twice during the particularly hard weeks. he’s grown close with sam and his family. and… you.

his girl.

as the door creaks open, he almost chuckles at the sight of you. you’re laying horizontally across the bed, taking up both your side and bucky’s. katherine is curled in at your chest, her nose nearly touching yours. your mouth is open and he can see that there’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth, and that does make him laugh. it stirs you and he freezes.

bucky watches as you slowly wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and then rubbing the drool from your mouth. “ew,” you mumble, still half asleep, and bucky leans in the doorway wearing a smirk.

“go back to sleep, doll.”

you hum and stretch, and so does katherine, giving a wide yawn. “you’re home.”

home.

had he ever had a home before? 

he did once, as a child. a time that feels so distant, so separate from the life that he leads now. sometimes, it’s hard to even picture the faces of his family members.

he had this apartment, but it never felt like home. not until you waltzed into it with your clutter and your laughter and your vibrancy. not until you cooked dinner hip to hip, not until you listened to music that he had never heard of, not until you watched some movie that was your favorite.

you’re home.

bucky smiles and he nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing your hair back. “i’m home,” he says quietly. “i’m sorry i’m so late.”

you shake your head, your hand taking his. he still wears the gloves. you raise your eyebrows at him. “can i?”

he nods. you make quick work of removing each of his gloves, tossing them across the room, which makes bucky smile. he knows he’ll be picking those up in the morning. you press a kiss to his palm, the one that is flesh and bone. and then you take the other and do the same. “missed you, buck.”

something in his heart constricts as he watches you-- washed in moonlight that comes in through the window, sleepy smile on your face, eyes fixed on him. he knows that look, and he knows what it means. he doesn’t know if he deserves it, but he tries. he’ll always try for you.

“i wasn’t even gone twenty four hours,” the smirk is evident in his tone even if you can’t see it, but you scoff and roll your eyes. “i think you’re needy.”

“needy!” you repeat and laugh, falling back onto the pillow. kitty stirs and looks up at bucky, letting out a loud meow. “she’s the needy one. look at her.”

“both of you.” he scratches kitty’s head and then kisses the top of yours before he stands again. “i’m gonna shower.”

sleep is escaping you and you push yourself up onto your palms. “can i join you?”

he chews on the inside of his cheek and shrugs his shoulders innocently. “better pick up the pace then, soldier.”

with a laugh, you kick the sheets off of you. “yes sir.”

he rolls his eyes and you both shuffle into the bathroom. now, in the light, you’re able to get a good look at him. and your jaw drops slightly at what you see. “bucky,” you say and he already knows what’s coming. you touch the side of his face where a bruise is blossoming. “how the hell does this even happen?”

“part of the gig.”

you groan and he smiles and he does so because he loves you. he loves your mess and he loves your doting, he loves your cat and he loves coming home to see that you’ve taken up the entire bed. “you’re an old man. one of these days you’re gonna have to retire.”

“got unfinished business first.”

you know of his past. of course you do. although, you’re a firm believer that it’s not his past, rather than a past that was decided for him against his will. you’ve made a point of making your stance in that clear. you have heard stories of what bucky has done, but you have tutted and shaken your head. “what hydra did.”

these are the things that bucky tells himself, but it is different to hear it from someone else. someone who is not steve, or sam, or another avenger who has also committed morally grey acts. because, yes, they are all good and trustworthy and worth listening to-- but you. you are his girl. you are his girl who laughs at his jokes and teases him and never once babies him for what happened to him, but you’re also the girl who has woken him from nightmares, who has tended to his wounds, who has been held back from a fight just to defend his honor. you have seen him in his entirety, and you have never balked.

“alright, well--” it’s not lost on you how his eyes trail down your body as you undress, turning on the water and checking the temperature. “as soon of this business of yours is finished…”

“i know.”

the two of you share a look and he gives a crooked grin. “you look nice.”

“there’s dried drool on my face.”

“yeah, i know.”

it’s been nearly a year since you met james buchanan barnes and yet he still gets you to blush. he practically lights up at the sight of the color on your cheeks. “are you--”

“shut up and get in the shower,” you retort, pulling back the curtain and stepping into the steaming water.

“yes, ma’am.” you hear the shuffling of his clothes falling to the floor and then he is behind you, hands going up and down your arms. you let out a sigh and tilt your head back, peering up at him. water trails down his nose, dripping off and onto your forehead.

you don’t tell bucky, but you do worry. you worry every second that he’s gone on a mission. you know that you don’t have to say it, that he knows. and you trust that he will come home to you. bucky turns you and he holds your face in his hands and he presses his lips to yours and you know that he feels the same way.

i’ll always come back is spelled out in the way that he kissed you, the way that he holds the back of your head. we have forever is heaved from your lungs as he sucks the air from you.

when you part, you smile at his lips-- slightly swollen, pinker than normal. you rub your thumb along the bottom one and he catches your hand. he presses it on his chest, right where his heart hides beneath skin and bone. “you don’t have to do all of this to make up for what they did to you,” you say over the sound of water. “you’re allowed to have a normal life, if you want it.”

“i know.” he pushes a piece of wet hair from your face. “i just don’t--” he shakes his head and you know this all too well-- he doesn’t quite know what to say, he starts closing up and off and away, the high walls that guard his heart and mind beginning to take shape. “i feel like if i don’t… what was it all for?”

delicate hands move across his torso. you lather up a loofah and begin washing away blood and grime. “bucky,” you say and he looks at you, steely blue eyes staring right into yours. “you make people happy. you have people who love you, who care for you. you don’t owe the world reparations.”

he winces as you go over a particular bruise and you slow your movements, make them featherlight. “all i know is,” you begin. “whatever it is you want, whatever it is that fulfills your life… make sure it’s for you.”

a smile curls on his face and he stills your hands. “thank you.” he takes the loofah from you. “let me get you.”

“but i’m not done--”

“please. let me.”

you surrender and he begins to wash you, and your forehead falls to his shoulder, calm washing over your body. you could’ve been standing there for minutes or hours, you’re unsure. he pushes your hair back and at some point you realize that he is washing your hair, and you press gently open mouthed kisses against his chest and you hear his breath catch and you fall in love with him all over again.

“let me get yours--” you mumble around a yawn and you watch as he smirks down at you. “really, let me.”

bucky shakes his head and he turns the water off. “tomorrow,” he says.

you towel off and when you clamber into bed, you feel the weight of him beside you, your cat nestled between the both of you. you feel him pull you into him, his breath against your neck and his lips against your pulse point, and your eyes flutter shut. before sleep captures you, you murmur, “i love you, james bucky barnes.”

the feeling of his smile against your skin is imprinted on your heart, and his words coax you into sleep-- “i love you too, doll.”

bucky barnes sleeps through the night and doesn’t wake once.

[cherrycocaineee]

18. Sodapop - A Love All Too Real

*Warning - Smut; spanking, biting, dirty talk, hair pulling, car sex*

“My baby did so well.”

“Cum one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

*Sodapop’s p.o.v*

   Mickey Mouse was playing loudly throughout the living room, trying to muffle the sounds of the rain beating against the roof. It worked a little, distracting all of us from the brewing storm outside. Two-Bit was sitting next between Steve and I, completely mesmerized by his favorite showing playing on the screen. It wasn’t getting late but most of us were ready to pass out in the spots we sat in; me including, my heavy eyelids sinking each time I blinked. However, we were shaken away when there was a rapid banging noise on the door. I pushed myself up off the cushion and peered towards the closed door like all the others, wondering who could possibly be standing outside in this weather. The knocking came again, except this time with a voice behind it.

  “Seriously guys! Who else would be knocking at your damn door right now?!”

  It was Anni.

   Ponyboy hopped off the floor, leaving Johnny sitting there alone, and opened the front door quickly. Anni was standing there, her hand over her left eye, soaking wet from the rain fall. She glared at him.

  “Took you long enough,” she grumbled.

 “Sorry Anni,” he said, “we expected you to be at home.”

  “I was at home. I got kicked out.”

  When she stepped into the house, the multiple bruises on her skin, fresh blood was collected on her skin and clothes, and when she removed her hand from her eye you could see how bad it really was. Her eye was black and purple, and I could see that some of the blood vessels in her eye were popped due to the red color collecting in her eye.

  “Holy shit,” Two-Bit muttered, his eyes staying off the television now.

 No one cared about Mickey Mouse playing anymore, or how tired they were. We only cared about Anni.

She placed her bag down by the door as she passed Ponyboy, who was still in shock that he couldn’t even move to close the door. Steve did it for him, not wanting rain to get inside the house or on him.

  “Anni,” Darry said, standing in front of her, “this is the third time this week.”

  She looked at all of us before turning back to Darry, the unfazed look on her face never wavering, as she shrugged.

  “So?” She muttered.

 “So,” he continued, “you can’t keep livin’ like this.”

  Anni waved her hand in front of her, rather annoyed that she had to hear this again. Anytime she came over covered in bruises, Darry or one of us would tell her she couldn’t live with her dad again. It was always met with the same unfazed look on her face along with a light shrug of the shoulders. Anni crossed her arm over her chest; I noticed that she didn’t even wince. She was so use to the constant abuse and beatings that they didn’t even hurt her physically anymore.

   “Why not?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

 “Anni, you do realize that your eyeball is red right? Like the blood vessels in your eye have busted?” Dally inquired, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

 “Well yeah, I’m going to clean myself up and wait for it to heal like always.”

   “But what we’re sayin’,” I said, standing from my spot, “you don’t deserve to be beaten every time you go home. You deserved to be cared for and go to sleep safely.”

  Once more, I noticed that the unfazed look in her eyes never wavered. She was so numbed to the abuse it didn’t seem wrong anymore. Instead, she turned away from all of us, facing the open bathroom ready to head inside so she could avoid the problem.

  “Doesn’t matter to me. Lots of things shouldn’t happen but they do. People take what they want from me whenever they please; the want sex, they don’t have to ask they just take, if every night someone wants to beat the hell out of me so that they feel better then so be it. I’m nothing more than a toy; a disposable piece of shit that people tend to keep around until they’re done using me.”

  With those final words, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. My heart broke into hundreds of pieces after hearing her say those words. Anni wasn’t a bad person, she just never knew what it felt like to be loved and cherished. All I wanted to do was love and cherish her. To lay beside her at night and hold her. To pepper her face with dozens of kisses while caressing her small form. To just show her what it felt to be cared about instead of used. But she was so brainwashed into thinking she didn’t matter, that she was nothing more than a throwaway doll, that she couldn’t see it.

  Ponyboy wrapped his arms around him.

 “We can’t keep lettin’ her live there, Darry,” he said.

 “I know that, Pony, but unless she wants to leave there isn’t anythin’ we can do,” Darry said, “I’m goin’ to go make her somethin’ to eat.”

  That was a normal routine when Anni came over all beaten up. She normally wouldn’t have eaten for two days before the beating. I had asked her why she didn’t eat two days in advance and she told me that it helped her not throw up when her dad kicked her in the stomach. Once more breaking my heart as I heard her tell me that she could anticipate when the beating was coming and how to make it hurt less.

 I followed Darry into the kitchen, Steve and Ponyboy trailing behind me. He was already getting all of the sandwich stuff out, dinner having been served a while ago and with all of us here, there were no leftovers. I grabbed the mustard off the table and watched Pony take out some bread before spreading the yellow condiment on her sandwich. We worked in silence, not sure what we could say to one another. Darry was right; unless Anni wanted to leave her parents, to have a better life, there wasn’t much we could do.

   As soon as we finished making her sandwich, and Steve added half a pickle to the plate, Anni came walking in while drying her hair with the towel. She was wrapped in nothing but a towel. In the kitchen light I could see her bruises more prominent.

  “Soda, can I borrow some clothes?” She inquired.

 “Sure thing, doll,” I said, rinsing my hands off and following her to my room.

   I opened the drawer and took out a pair of gray sweatpants and a black wife beater that revealed a lot on the side. It was something I wore around the house when it was hot.

  “You know, Pony has clothes that might fit you better,” I joked.

 “Yeah, probably,” she laughed, “but they aren’t as comfortable as yours.”

  I handed the clothes to her, looking at her beaten up face. I frowned.

 “Does it hurt?” I whispered.

 “No more than it normally does,” she shrugged, “can you close the door on your way out? Please, and thank you.”

  Nodding my head, I left the room and closed the door behind me. Anni came out five minutes after wearing the sweats and wife beater I’d given her. It was much bigger on her than I’d expected, revealing all of her sides and if she moved her arms a certain way you could see the side of her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra, not that she needed one because her breasts were small and perky.

  A lump formed in my throat as I watched her. I had to force myself to look away. She plopped down on the recliner, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair as Darry walked in with her sandwich. He handed it to her and smiled.

 “Eat up, kid,” he said.

 “Thank you,” she said, smiling back.

Soon the rain went away; Darry had gone to sleep an hour ago, having to get up for work in the morning. Pony had fallen asleep on the floor beside Johnny, Dally left with Two-Bit to a party that was close by, and Steve was sprawled out beside me completely knocked out. His mouth was partially opened which made me laugh a little.

  Anni was still awake. She walked over to me, her arms folded over her chest.

  “Want to come outside with me?” She asked, “I need to smoke.”

 “Sure, come on,” I said, standing up carefully not to wake Steve or the others.

  I closed the door behind us and she shivered. The rain had made the air incredibly cold, and she was hardly wearing anything. Her pale skin glowed in the darkness, and in the small, illuminating porch light, I noticed that her nipples were erected.

 “Come on,” I said, leading her to Darry’s truck.

  We climbed into the backseat. I reached to the front and grabbed the spare keys underneath the visors. I turned the truck on and let the heater kick in so we could warm up. Anni was digging through her bag, removing a lighter and a container out. I watched her open the container and take out a joint. Anni didn’t smoke cigarettes, couldn’t stand the taste, but she did smoke weed and I was pretty sure it was because it numbed her from everything. I watched her light her joint and hit it, a cloud of smoke releasing from her perfect, soft, pink lips. The smell of weed collecting in the car and I knew I was going to have to air it out before we went in. Darry had the nose of a hound.

  She looked over at me and held out the joint, “want some?”

  “No thanks, doll,” I smiled.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she continued to smoke the joint. Her unwounded eye turned hazy and became a bit red. With each puff, she was getting higher and higher; this obviously not being the first time she smoked tonight. She slouched down in her seat, the shirt riding up a little bit. I guess I’d been staring too long because she faced me and raised her eyebrow.

  “Why do you keep staring at me like that?” She questioned.

 “Just takin’ in all of your wounds,” I whispered, half lying.

  She let her eyes land on the bruises decorating her arm before dropping it and taking another hit of her joint.

  “You know, I’m use to it but they still hurt like hell.”

  “You shouldn’t be use to it,” I muttered, “I hate seein’ you like this, Anni.”

  Anni put out her smoke, putting it back in her purse and folding her arms, “why?”

  “Because I care about you. Every time I see you all bruised up like this, it pisses me off. I swear if I ever see your dad-”

  “You’ll do nothing.”

  Our eyes met; hers cold, and distant, mine shocked, and sad.

  “If you do something it’ll only make it worse. I’ll just get beaten ten times worse than the last. He’ll do everything in his power to prove he’s got total control over me, and he’s right.”

  I reached over and touched her shoulder. She flinched a bit but I didn’t pull away; her skin was cool to the touch, the heater barely keeping her warm. Anni sighed.

 “It’s just how it is, Soda. Leave it be.”

  “How can I do that?” I asked, “you don’t deserve it.”

 “Because I’m not important, Soda!” She snapped, “if I left today, all of you would stop thinking about me! If I died tomorrow, you’d forget me as soon as you saw the next girl walk by! I’m replaceable! A nobody! Unloved!”

 “You aren’t unloved!” I yelled back, “and maybe to your shitty dad you're replaceable, but to me you’re irreplaceable! You’re so fucked up in the head, you don’t even know what love is because they’ve got you all messed up.”

  “So?! What do you want me to do about it!”

 “Let me show you what it’s like to be loved, Anni.”

  She started nibbling on her lip as I got closer to her. She didn’t move away from me though, as I leaned in closer and closer. The air between us almost felt thin, I could hardly breathe. I could see her chest moving up and down fast. Was she nervous? Scared? I couldn’t tell. My forehead pressed against hers.

  “I’ll stop if you want,” I whispered, “I’d never do somethin’ to you that you aren’t comfortable with.”

  It took her a moment to answer and when she was capable of doing so, it came out as more of a hushed whisper.

 “I’m fine,” her voice croaked, “you can continue.”

She was definitely nervous. My words, along with my actions, had her flustered and confused.

Nodding my head, I pressed my lips against hers. Her lips were just as soft as I’d imagined them to be. When I pulled away, it was only for a second, going back into and kissing her deeply once again, this time more passionately. I softly pushed her back, keeping my lips on hers, and crawled between her legs. Her hands reached up and wrapped around my neck, her fingers tangling themselves into my hair. A soft groan left my lips as I felt her fingers tug gently.

   I pulled away from her, a small amount of saliva pulling from our lips. Her eyes were hazy with lust and confusion.

  “I’ve got you, doll,” I whispered, “I promise.”

  She nodded her head. Leaning back down, I attached my lips to her neck and started leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along the nape. Softly sucking and nibbling on her flesh, I felt my cock harden at the sound of her breathy moans. A sound that I wanted to be familiar with forever. I bit down on her neck and she gasped, jolting forward, her chest pressing against mine. Her nipples were still hard. I swirled my tongue around the spot I bit down on before biting down on a different spot, repeating the process.

  “Soda,” she whimpered.

  It was the first time I’ve heard her sound so vulnerable.

  “That’s a good girl,” I praised, returning my attention to her face.

  The black eye didn’t bother me, neither did the blood in her eye. She was as beautiful as she always was.

  I grabbed the rim of my shirt and pulled it off, revealing my tanned chest. Her eyes lingered a little lower, her teeth biting her bottom lip while she scanned over my body. I chuckled then reached for her shirt. She lifted her arms letting me pull the shirt over her head, revealing her exposed, bruised flesh. I groaned at the mere sight of her breasts. They were perfect; like beautiful clouds. I barely licked one of the hardened nipples and her back arched, eyes rolling to the back of her head. I captured her lips with mine once again, this time kissing her hungrily.

  I pulled her off the seat and into my lap, breathing heavily as I started kissing down her neck again, tracing the purple hickeys I had left. My hands fumbled with my zipper first, my cock aching to be released from their restraints. Not bothering to lift her off of me, I lifted myself off the seat a bit and pulled my jeans down. Anni wrapped her arms around me, tugging my hair a bit as she kissed me hard. I grabbed the sweats she was wearing and dragged them down, my hands grazing her bare skin causing her to shiver. I loved watching her shiver after I touched her. It didn’t happen often with Anni, she hardly ever reacted to anyone touching her, so to see, to feel, her shake from my touch sent a rush of pride through me.

  Anni lifted herself off of my lap as I pulled her sweats all the way off. She was completely naked in front of me now.

  “God damnit, Anni,” I groaned, “so fucking beautiful.”

 A soft laugh left her lips as she watched me pull my boxers down finally releasing my growing member. There was no need to wait any longer, no need for foreplay, no need for me to poke and prod to make sure she was okay. We were both ready as if we'd been waiting for years. I lined myself up with her and pushed her down onto me, groaning at the feeling of her tight walls gripping me. Anni buried her head into my shoulder and moaned softly at the feeling of me filling her up. Only a second passed before I started thrusting my hips back and forth, our skin slapping against each other’s. Small pants were leaving her mouth as she gripped my shoulders tightly, keeping herself upright despite being drilled into. Even though I wasn’t going too fast right now, the position allowed me to bury myself deep into her sweet little cunt.

   “Holy fuck,” I moaned, “that’s it baby.”

  My pace quickened as she started bouncing herself up and down; the truck started to rock a bit at the movement happening inside but we didn’t care. Anni’s moans became more erotic and lewd; she sounded almost angelic and I loved that I was the one making her feel this way. Her head fell back as she continued to ride my cock, meeting each thrust coming from me. I moved my left hand up to the back of her head and pulled her hair a little, just enough to get her to face me. I didn’t want to hurt her. She moaned at the feeling of me pulling her hair.

  “Fuck, Anni, you sound so beautiful,” I groaned, pulling her closer by her hair so that our foreheads could meet, “such a beautiful girl for me, huh?”

  She could only nod, her body shivering.

  “Soda, I’m close,” she whimpered out.

  “Let it go, baby,” I moaned, “I’ve got you.”

 Those words with the quickening pace of our thrust sent Anni into euphoria. She screamed out, her legs violently shaking as she came all over my cock. I held her in place; one hand gripping her side while the other stayed tangled in her hair. I removed my hand from her back and smacked her perfectly, plump, sweaty ass. She yelped, rocking her hips into mine causing me to groan. Giving her ass a few more smacks, enough to pleasure her, I turned us over so that I was on top of her. My eyes danced across her sweaty body. I started pouring kisses onto her face and mumbling soft “I love you’s” as I continued to thrust into her faster.

  “Soda,” she moaned, “I can’t.”

  “Shh,” I whispered, holding back a string of curse words, feeling her walls tighten around me, “you can do it baby. Come on.”

   I slammed into her repeatedly; removing my cock all the way at the tip and then slamming back into her. Her eyes rolled back as her hips arched. I could feel myself getting closer to my climax as I watched her, feeling her dripping cunt swallow me over and over again.

  “Cum one more time for me,” I cooed, “I know you’ve got it in you.”

 Anni couldn’t form any more words, all she could do was nod her head and let me coax her with my sweet words. Soon her body spasmed again and her legs shook harshly. Her screams rippled through the air, but I didn’t bother covering her mouth to hide them. I didn’t care if people heard and I didn’t care if that caused people to come over to see what was happening; all I wanted was to be focused on Anni.

  “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” I croaked.

  My thrust becoming sloppier, I watched her body go limp as pools of sweat collected on her chest. I thrusted into her three more times before spilling my cum into her fleshy, pink walls. Coating every inch.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, “oh my God, fuck!”

  I stopped moving, unable to ride out my high for too long. Anni was panting hard. I pulled myself out of her and brought her to my chest. Rubbing soft circles onto her bruised back as she gasped for air.

  “I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

   When Anni finally did catch her breath, she rested her head against my bare, sweaty chest. A tired smile appeared on my face as I watched her look up at me.

  “My baby did so well,” I praised again.

  We stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like a lifetime. Her glistening skin glowed in the moonlight, the cool air chapping her dry lips making her lick them repeatedly, her breast heaving up and down as she took in large amounts of air. Her black hair was not sweaty and clinging to her beautiful face. I reached my hand down and stroked the bruise on her cheek.

  “I love you, Anni,” I whispered, “so fuckin’ much. You’ll never be replaceable to me. I only want you.”

  Anni chuckled and closed her eyes, she was definitely sleepy.

  “I’ll hold you to that, Soda. If you love me, maybe I can let myself love you too. It may take a while but I’ll do it for you.”

  Grabbing the blanket that Darry normally kept inside his truck, I draped it over us and sighed. She buried her head into my chest and let her heavy eyes close. The sound of my heart lulling her to sleep.

  “No matter how long it takes,” I said, “I’ll wait for you. I’ll help you love again because you deserve it. That and the world.”

   The sudden realization of Darry coming out in the morning to see us asleep, naked in his car with the lingering smell of sex, hit me. A low chuckle escaped from my lips. I knew I was gonna hear it in the morning, but right now, I didn’t care. It felt like it was just Anni and I, all alone. That’s what I wanted.

[adoringdanvers]

Be My Daisy

summary: - natasha and [y/n] are best friends who have crushes on each other and flirt all the time. one drunken night [y/n] exposes their feelings for natasha. natasha gets scared and says she’s actually in a secret relationship with another avenger. now natasha and [y/n]’s relationship is strained. will they ever repair their friendship? will they get together?

tags: natasha x reader, steve rogers x natasha romanoff

warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, so much flirting, i’m sorry, cussing, feelings of betrayal, natasha is cute

notes: this is my first marvel fic!! also my first piece of writing in a long time!! please be kind!! or don’t!! if you see a typo or bad grammar no you didn’t!! i’m sorry it’s late, campus wifi sucks in dorms!

masterlist for the series

I looked up and giggled at Natasha as she mocked Steve giving his latest briefing in the meeting room. The meetings were boring and depressing, but Nat always seemed to make it better. She was my best friend on the team. In the tower. And in the world. We met when SHIELD brought her in, I was getting patched up in medbay next to her. I talked to her, she didn’t say a word back. When they took her back for further testing, I waved, she didn’t wave back. But being a top agent, and a new Avenger alongside her, I found a way to keep talking to her as if she and I had known each other since diapers. One day she finally talked back to me, and the rest was history. Now we’re attached at the hip, tell each other everything, and flirt like crazy. We get teased by the team, but of course it’s never gone anywhere. I liked her- hell I loved her. But I knew she didn’t feel the same way.

“Ladies!” Steve’s booming yet calm voice snapped me out of my thoughts and Natasha out of her actions, “Would you two please pay attention? This is important.”

I turned back to the blonde and listened as he informed us of the next mission. A week long, a HYDRA base, the freezing cold, and it should be easy.

Fucking liar.

The mission was 2 weeks. Freezing cold. And hard as hell. Me, Tasha, Steve, and Bucky. And it was hard.

At nights Tasha would hold me to keep warm. We stayed together through most of the mission. She kept me safe and I felt better when she was by my side. That way I knew she was safe.

Until we got to the actual HYDRA base and we all split up. In the middle of taking care of some bad guys I found Bucky, and seemingly Natasha found Steve around the same time. Bucky and I make a good team, so this as far as we all knew was going great.

Hindsight is great. We did our job but Nat and I both came out injured. Not too bad but the boys insisted we go to medbay as soon as we get back.

“So, you come here often?” I couldn’t contain the smile as I said it to the red head getting patched up next me.

“Yeah it’s really good for meeting pretty ladies. There’s always this one who just happens to be here at the same time as me.” She quipped back, brushing off a wince as the nurses tended to a wound.

“Oh that’s funny because that’s why I come here. I really like this fiery redhead I see here a lot.” I giggled, which was short lived because I had a stab wound being tended to.

“You’ll have to introduce me to her. She sounds amazing.”

This girl was gonna be the death of me. I didn’t think you could fall in love so hard. I didn’t even believe in love and soulmates and all that. Then I met Natasha.

After such missions parties are usually held. Not particularly big ones. Just Avengers and some agents, trying to help everyone feel better. Wanda took Nat and I dress shopping for the party. I ended up doing with the satin black dress Natasha liked on me.

I ended up getting to the party later than Wanda and Natasha. Before I got ready I still had reports to fill out on agents in training. I used the lonely elevator ride to contemplate something I’ve been putting off. Telling Natasha how I feel. Wanda says there’s chemistry between us. Tony, Steve, Sam, and even Bucky agreed with her. So all I need is a little bit of liquid courage.

As soon as I walked in I felt eyes on me, and not just any eyes. Green ones. My eyes found hers and soon a smile graced both our faces. And before I knew it I was right in front of her.

“Hey” I breathed, taking in her stunning appearance.

“Hi” She held up two shot glasses, handing me one.

“Already? Damn Romanoff, are you trying to get me in bed?”

“Please I could get you in bed with less than a shot.”

I made sure to drink enough to get me some courage and loosen me up. Staying and dancing with Natasha the entire time. Her hands on my waist and mine around her neck. She left to go talk to Steve and Wanda came over and give me a pep talk. Which was more of a shove and wink. I took one last shot and walked up Natasha as she was talking to Steve and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hey, uh, you wanna take a walk with me?” I smiled as she turned and looked at me. She took a quick glance to Steve and he gave her a kurt nod.

“Sure,” She grinned and immediately took my hand.

We walked in silence to the empty balcony, fingers intertwined. The comfortable silence continued outside as we took a seat. Hands held, my head on her shoulder, her head on mine, and the stars in the sky. It felt perfect and magical.

“Hey Tash,” My voice broke the silence, almost too quiet to be heard.

“Hmm,” She hummed as her thumb started rubbing circles in my hand.

“I need to…talk to you.” I was sure she could hear my heart beating, I was terrified.

“Go ahead. I’m right here. You can say anything, you’ve always got me, sweetheart,” She lifted her head up and looked me in the eye.

“I…I like you. Actually I love you. More than friends. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to always be touching and-“

“Y/N” Her hand was on my, her thumb rubbing my cheek.

“Huh,”

“Sweetie, I’m with Steve. It’s a secret. Im so sorry.”

“Oh,” My stomach dropped and my heart was in my throat. It felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water on me. I froze and felt numb. But at the same time my face was burning. I felt like bursting into tears but I just couldn’t.

“Im sorry,” She frowned, squeezing my hand.

“I think Im gonna go to bed now,” I mumbled out, I didn’t know if she heard me. I was too far gone. My feet somehow carried me to the elevator.

I slid to the floor of the elevator as soon as I got in, a choked sob leaving me as the doors closed. I didn’t look up until I felt a vibranium arm on my shoulder.

taglist: @bemine-bucky @initialsonachainroundmyneck @goldenboysteve

[earlgreydream]

memory.

| Steve Rogers x reader | angst |

anon requested. the reader loses their memory and like the love interest suffers because they never remember them

“Steve, she was in an accident,” Bucky stopped Steve before he could burst into your hospital room, where Shuri and Dr. Banner were tending to you. 

“Let me in, let me see Y/N!” Steve shouted. 

“You can, but there was a head injury. Y/N hasn’t woken up yet. You just need to be prepared, Steve,” Bucky spoke gently, holding his best friend back. 

Steve’s panic only heightened, and Bucky followed him into the hospital room. Shuri moved out of the way, standing to the side with Banner. 

Steve felt like he was going to fall apart at the sight of you. You laid in the bed, looking pathetic and weak. You were badly bruised and scraped, and there was a gash on the side of your head. Bucky hung back in the doorway, hurting for the both of you, the two people closest to him in his life. 

“Steve-” Shuri started, but Banner stopped her. 

“Y/N, baby,” Steve breathed, running up to you. You jerked back, pain throbbing through your entire body at the sudden movement. A monitor started beeping, indicating that your heart was racing. 

“Baby, it’s okay,” Steve tried to calm you down, shocked by your startled reaction to him. 

“Get away from me!” You cried, and Steve stepped back like he was wounded.

“Y/N...?”

“I don’t, I don’t know you!” You started to sob, frightened by the large man that you didn’t recognize. Banner sighed, and Shuri and Bucky went to Steve, pulling him away.

“Steve, she hit her head. She’s having memory loss,” Shuri explained quietly. 

“But, I’m her husband-”

“I know.”

“When will her memory come back?” Steve demanded, shaken and in disbelief.

“We don’t know. Steve, you need to understand that it may not come back.” Shuri tried to be gentle, but Steve sank into Bucky, the weight of her words nearly making him collapse. 

“Breathe, Steve.”

Steve sat beside your hospital bed. You had slipped into unconsciousness, sedated by Banner to help you heal. Steve had stayed out of your room after the frightened reaction, but he needed to be close. The sun had set, and he was spending the night in your room, holding your hand as you slept. Tears stained Steve’s face, devastated by the fact you didn’t recognize him, your injuries, and seeing you in the hospital. 

He sat up when your eyes opened, and he couldn’t make himself release your hand. You looked a little confused, and very sleepy. They had been careful to give you plenty of sedation to keep you from having another panic attack. Your heartbeat was weak, and you had a bad concussion. That was on top of a sprained wrist, several fractured ribs, and the numerous bruises, cuts, and scrapes. 

“Y/N,” Steve breathed softly, and you blinked slowly.

“Are you a doctor?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your free hand.

“No, baby, I’m your husband,” Steve whispered. 

You froze and stared at him, stunned. You looked down at your hands, surprised to see a ring on your left hand. The silver band had tiny diamonds, and Steve’s hand that held yours had another silver band. Hot tears started to slide down your cheeks, overwhelmed by the thoughts racing through your sedated mind. 

“I don’t remember you, I don’t even remember your name... The doctor showed me a picture of us, but I don’t remember anything, I barely even remember who I am,” you sobbed, and Steve felt nauseated. 

“I’m Steve, Steve Rogers. We got married two years ago, in Brooklyn. Bucky Barnes was my best man, and Wanda Maximoff was your maid of honor. Tony Stark walked you down the aisle... He’s like your dad...” Steve explained, his voice shaking as he tried to keep himself from crying. 

“Bucky...” you murmured, squeezing your eyes shut. His name sounded familiar, but every memory before waking up in the hospital was gone.

“Yes. Bucky is my best friend. Yours too. We’re really close, he lived with us for a year.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t...”

“It’s okay. All your memory isn’t going to come back now.”

“Steve, Y/N needs to rest,” Shuri spoke, leaning in the doorway.

He nodded tightly, rubbing his eyes. She emptied more sedative into your IV, helping you slip back into dreamless sleep. She dragged Steve out, and Bucky stood in the hallway, pulling him into his arms. He squeezed Steve, promising it was going to be okay. 

Steve sat with you, chatting quietly when you were awake. He showed you photos from your wedding, and pictures of your small tabby cat that you adored. Bucky snuck her into the hospital, and you pet her head shyly, hating yourself for your lack of memory. 

“Steve?” you asked, sitting up in the bed, but struggling under the weakness of your muscles. 

“Yes, baby?” he set down his laptop, giving you his full attention the moment he asked. 

“You said that Tony Stark walked me down the aisle at our wedding? And that he’s like my dad?” You asked, and Steve felt his heart sink. 

“Yeah, Tony is like your dad,” he said dryly, showing you a photo. 

“I think that I remember growing up in a penthouse with him... but only when I was a teenager. I think, I don’t know for sure. Why?” you struggled to recall.

Over the last few days, bits and pieces started to return to your mind, and you remembered cooking in a sleek penthouse with Tony when you couldn’t have been older than 17. 

“Yeah. Stark adopted you when you were ten. Your parents were in a car accident. He was really close with your father. You love Tony, he took really great care of you. He wants to come see you once we’re home from the hospital.”

You nodded slowly, taking it in. You didn’t know how to express the pain and confusion you felt, and you shyly reached your hand out to Steve. He took it, gently squeezing.

“Steve, I’m so sorry. I want to remember...”

“Don’t apologize, my love.”

Steve had assured you a million times that he could take you to Tony’s, or that he could even rent you an apartment if you didn’t feel comfortable coming home with him. Your memory had barely returned, despite little pieces and isolated moments. 

Truly, you were terrified to be alone, because then, you were left with nothing, not even memories. You felt safe with Steve, even if you didn’t remember your history together. He’d stayed up with you, showing you photos and telling you stories, and patiently answering every question you asked.

Steve drove you to your brownstone on the Upper East Side, carrying you indoors. Bucky was waiting, having moved back in to help and be supportive. The flat smelled like homemade bread, welcoming you inside. Steve mouthed a thank-you to Bucky, who nodded silently. 

You convinced Steve to let you down so you could walk and look around. 

“Can I have some of the bread?” you asked, shyly setting your hand on Bucky’s arm.

“Yes, of course, Y/N.” 

You sat down, trying not to act like you were exhausted just from walking around the flat. Steve knew, and it seemed that Bucky did too. You may not have known them, but they knew you. 

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said softly, and he kissed your head gently. 

You had hoped that coming home would jog your memory, but nothing came. It felt like the first time you’d ever been, and you started crying as you sat between the men. 

“The only thing I can remember is going to high school prom with both of you... I don’t remember anything before or anything after, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, and Steve pulled you into his arms, his own shoulders shaking. Bucky gently laid his hand on your back, trying to comfort you.

You felt lost, Steve nearly as much. There was nothing he could do, nothing either of you could do.

[demonsandmischief]

Our Moment Finale

Marvel - A Captain America Fairytale AU

King! Steve Rogers x Female Reader

1.8K Words

Here's Pt 1 and Pt 2

-Part 3-

the conclusion

----

You didn't waste anytime getting home, collapsing onto your bed with a sob that you muffled with your palm. It seemed nothing good could ever truly be yours.

You glanced around the small attic space with blurry tears. The house was supposed to be for you. Your father had left it in your name, yet your step-mother was able to work her way around that.

It was the only reason you stuck around, the only reason you put up with all of it. You were over it.

Peaches was the only thing that you felt a connection to. Your father adored her, and you were honored that you got to bond with her.

You made up your mind. It was time to move on. You dried that last of your tears and began packing a bag. You carefully folded your mother's dress and put it back in the box you got it from. One day when the memories weren't as painful, you would come back for it.

You wished things could be different with your life, but mostly with Steve. You should have known better than to get tied up with the king. It was too good to be true. You felt you had done everything you could to win over his trust, but obviously not enough.

You strapped your bag to your horse. The next town was about a days ride, and you could figure out where to go from there.

---

Steve didn't hesitate to saddle his own horse as quickly as possible. He had to go after you - had to explain. He couldn't lose you. You were the only good thing to ever happen to him.

He stalled in his tracks. Explain what exactly? That his biggest fear was being used and never being loved? He shook his head.

"My king, where are you off to?" a guard asked confused.

"I have to leave."

"But the ball-"

"Tell the court I will explain when I get back."

"Wait, you can't leave without someone going with you."

Steve was already racing down the path, his heart racing along with it.

"There's no time for that," he called. He could take care of himself.

He thought of you as he followed the familiar trail. He thought of the first day you met, and all of the moments thereafter. You always made time for him, always listened to what he had to say. You were attentive and doting.

He had screwed up.

The trail became less familiar. He didn't know where he was going, or how he would find you. He swallowed down the panic. He couldn't lose you. It was a constant circling thought.

Eventually the trail ended and he slowed to a trot. He saw a house up ahead, and a royal carriage in front of it.

He slowed, finding Sam speaking to a guard.

"What are you doing here and how did you get here so fast?" Steve asked.

Sam took his horse's reins. "I know something has been up with you lately, but you can explain later. The lady you talked to at the ball is in the house."

Your step-mother. He had some words for her, but first he needed you.

"Thank you, Sam. I owe you," Steve said, heading for the door.

"Your highness, it's a pleasure to have you in our home-"

"Don't act like I don't know what is going on," he said, cutting her off. "I will deal with you later. Is she here? Where is her room?"

The lady paled even beneath the layers of powder on her cheek.

"S-She's not-" she swallowed at Steve's fierce look, before gathering her wits. "My king, she's not here. She's hardly ever here. I'll show you where she prefers to spend her time."

Steve followed her down a hallway to a door with a winding staircase. She guided him up and into the small room at the top. The ceilings were so low that he had to scrunch his shoulders.

He took in the space, feeling upset at your living conditions.

"Leave me," he demanded, unable to look away from the small bed in the corner, one that contained a single blanket and a pillow, folded neatly on the end.

The step-mother was right. It looked like someone hardly lived here, except there was a freshly cut flower on the windowsill, soaking in the low, dusty light. And the books you had borrowed from his own library sat tucked by the bed. Most importantly, the beautiful dress that he never got to say anything to you about was hanging from the sides of a box under the bed. You must have been in a haste to leave.

He frowned, bending down to pick up a folded piece of paper. Were those the things you did by yourself? What had you gone through?

Steve cursed. He wished he could have started the night over. He wished that he had gone through his original plan instead of being sucked into his own insecurities.

"Where would she have gone?" he asked impatiently to the lady who was lounging on her couch.

"If she isn't in the barn with that horse, I have no clue."

There was no sign of a horse or you. He closed his eyes, feeling the anxiety creeping in and swallowing him whole. It was dark and late, and you were somewhere all alone. It was all his fault.

"She might know someone in the next town over," Sam suggested. "We could head over tomorrow."

"That's a days journey. I'll start the route tonight."

"You're exhausted, Steve," he protested.

"Just in case," his words dropped to a hoarse whisper, his mind plunged into the darkest corners.

Sam nodded. "We will catch up with you tomorrow then. Be safe."

He nodded, already going down the dark path, his heart thudding loud in his ears.

---

You were taking a break and letting Peaches rest. The fire you built was warm and soothing on your stiff limbs. Even after the incident in the woods a while back, it didn't scare you to be out alone. The stars and the moon made it seem as though you could feel your parents, and you enjoyed the sentiment, especially after the day you had.

You rested your head on your hand, your eyes fluttering closed. They were dry and sticky from the tears that had fallen.

You gave a shuddering hiccup, unable to give into the heartbreak anymore. You were cried out. Beyond upset - a numbness covered your whole body like a scab on a wound.

You jolted, hearing steps near you and you staggered quickly to your feet.

"Thank god you're alright," Steve said, rushing towards you. He pulled you tight into his embrace, and it took everything in you not to hug him back.

"What are you doing here, your highness?" you asked confused, trying to pull away. He didn't let go, only eased back so his hand remained on your shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I believed her over you. I'm sorry that it took me so long to come after you. I'm sorry for everything," he said the words so sincerely that tears filled your eyes for the millionth time tonight. He caressed you cheek, using the pad of his thumb to dry a fallen drop. "And it's just Steve to you."

"But you still did it," you whispered, voice thick with tears. "You don't trust me."

"I do trust you," he said earnestly. "and I care about you. It has been a long time since I shared those emotions with anyone."

"It doesn't matter," you successfully pull away. His hands drop dejectedly to his side. "You're a king, and I'm me. It would have never worked out."

It was quiet a moment. "Why didn't you tell me what you were going through at home?"

You sat down and Steve followed. "I didn't want you to think I was using you. I guess we both have our own insecurities."

He looked into the dimming flames of the fire. "Insecurities or not, I shouldn't have accused. I'm sorry I hurt you."

He waited, but you said nothing. "We're both exhausted and need sleep. Why don't we head back?" He stood, holding out his hand to you.

You shook your head, "I'm not going back."

He paused, fully expecting that response, but it still took him aback. He definitely wasn't going to leave you alone in the middle of nowhere though.

"Okay," he nodded, heading to his horse.

You frowned.

He turned with a blanket, draping it over you, before tending to the fire. Finally, he sat next to you with a sigh. His body was pressed against yours and you couldn't help but sag in relief at the support.

"You can't stay. You have to get back," you protested.

"Shh," he eased, kissing your forehead ever so softly. "Sleep a bit and then we will talk."

---

Gentle light breaking through the trees awoke you from your slumber. You shivered from the damp cold, curling closer to the source of warmth beneath you. Your eyes fluttered and you realized you were practically laying on top of Steve.

You called his name, shaking him gently.

"We fell asleep," you told him with a yawn, falling back onto his chest. It was the best sleep you ever had.

He hummed, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"I'm sorry. You must be freezing," he said coming to, easing the both of you up. Your cheeks heated and you moved to get off of his lap.

He adjusted the blanket so it was pulled tight over your shoulders.

"Come back with me, please," he whispered, turning your chin to look at him. "You can stay with me. I just want to be with you."

"You want me to stay with you?" you asked.

"We could get married in the summer," he grinned, the first genuine smile you had seen in a while.

"Married?" you asked, biting back a smile.

He nodded eagerly. "I'm falling in love with you."

---

Epilogue:

"Come on," Steve encouraged, pulling you eagerly down the hall to your favorite room in the palace.

Things were working out good, really good, between the two of you.

"What are we doing?"

"Close your eyes," he smiled, taking his large warm hands and covering them for you.

He pulled them off with an exaggerated ta-da, revealing a new shelf next to his in the library.

"Now you have your own spot for all of your favorites."

"Thank you," you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "I love it. I love you."

And they lived happily ever after.

---

Hope you enjoyed 💕

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[midgardianweasley]

Movie Night

Movie night

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: It’s friday night, or more commonly known as movie night for the Avengers. A horror movie was put on and Y/N isn’t feeling so brave, luckily she’s got a Romanoff nearby.

Warnings: coulrophobia (fear of clowns), mentions of the IT movie and pennywise.

Word Count: 2.5k

Идиоты. - ‘Idiots.’

Requests are open!

“I vote action movie”

“We watched an Action movie last week, Sam.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly looking up and meeting my eyes, earning a small smile in return, attempting to provide some sanity for the man.

“Plus, do you not think we’ve had enough action for one week?” Bucky grumbled, this week having taken a toll on everyone. We were all exhausted from our missions, some more than others, the soldier being one of them.

“Okay okay, no action, damn” Sam put his hands up in defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to win this one. A few more options had been suggested, Bruce suggested rom-com, Thor suggested comedy, Vision proposed a documentary, all of which were shut down with groans and sounds of protest.

I turned to my assassin girlfriend who had been sitting beside me watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk on her face, her green eyes darting around the room whenever someone else spoke and taking sips of the drink she had in her hand. I nudged her slightly to get her attention

“Hey.”

“Hi”

“If it was up to you, what would you choose for movie night?” I asked. She morphed her face into a thoughtful one, still with a slight smile on her face, taking time to make her decision.

“If it was completely up to me? I would-”

“Aha!” Tony interrupted with a loud snap of his fingers. “I know, we haven’t watched a horror movie in a while, and the new IT movie just came out, we can watch that” He smirked, proud of his contribution to the discussion at hand. I looked around the room, praying that they would pick anything else, literally anything, even Vision’s documentary.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be really into it as they all shared nod’s and “yeah” “sounds good” before splitting up to go and get their snacks and blankets to bring back to the large sofa.

Although I wouldn't admit it to the rest of the group, I was absolutely terrified of clowns and have been since I was a child. If there was a clown at a birthday party or an event, I’d pretend I was sick so that my mum wouldn’t make me go. She soon noticed a pattern in my behaviour, putting the pieces together and realising that I hadn't come down with the flu three times that month, I was avoiding the ‘entertainment’ of the parties.

She tried explaining that it was just a guy in makeup and a funny suit, showing off fun tricks and jokes. However, 9 year old me still refused to attend, faking a sneeze and hiding under the blanket.

“Woah, Y/L/N, you good over there?” Tony furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I wish it was a ghost.

I regained my composure, nodding and sending a firm smile his way, hoping that would be enough to prevent any further questioning. With a shrug, he made his way out of the room and caught up with Thor to explain what ‘IT’ was.

“You don’t look so good, sure you’re okay?” Nat placed her hand on my back, rubbing small, reassuring circles with her palm. I wanted to put on a brave face and tell her I was fine, that there wasn’t a problem and my heart wasn’t racing with fear, but the look on her face, while caring and concerned, was also warning me not to lie to her. Not that i’d manage anyway, she always had ways of finding out the truth eventually.

I shook my head, letting out a small sigh and turning in my seat to address her. My eyes met hers and I felt my heart settle slightly just by looking at her, she always made me feel safe.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She whispered, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone in small movements.

“It’s so silly, really.”

“Nothing is silly if it’s upsetting you Detka. Tell me.”

“It’s this movie.”

The confusion was obvious on her face, yet she stayed quiet, allowing me to elaborate.

“I just, I’ve never been the best with clowns. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had this fear of them. If I saw one, I’d run in the opposite direction, which was more often than one would think. I mean, seriously, who wants one of those things at a party? What happened to princess parties? Or tea parties!” I exclaimed, my tone becoming more intense as I spoke.

Natasha nodded, I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, figuring out how to approach the situation. After a minute or two, she focused her eyes back on me and her hands had trailed down to meet with mine, interlocking them in the process.

“Do you want to skip it tonight?” She suggested.

“No, no, I don’t want to cause a fuss. Plus, I kinda don’t want the others knowing.”

“Are you absolutely sure? I’m sure we can pull a sickie for one night.”

“I’m sure. Just, can you stay next to me? And let me hide if it gets really bad?”

“Of course you can. I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

___________________

We were at the haunted house scene in the movie. There had already been jumpscares that I'd managed to avoid for the most part, but I don’t think I've moved past Georgie’s death yet, let alone have time to process the psycho killer clown on the screen.

Eddie was in a room alone, he was staring at this dirty, old fridge and a white hand had appeared, curling itself around and tapping on the side so you could only see it’s fingers. I tugged the blanket that was laid across Natasha and i’s laps and pulled it up to my nose, eyes still on the screen, but prepared to take cover. It appears as though nothing has changed from all those years ago.

As the fridge door creaked open, my blanket had raised higher and higher, my grip tightening by the second while the hand reappeared, this time, you could see it’s entire body contorted into this small space.

“Nope. No, absolutely fucking not. No.” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my fluffy shield. Luckily, Nat had stolen the sofa at the back, meaning I could skip the scary parts without anyone taking much notice, them being too entranced by the movie. Weirdo’s.

In my safety bubble I'd created, I felt my girlfriend’s hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles to reassure me that I was okay, and that she was here. I shuffled a little so I was closer to her, if that was even possible, her then adjusting so that her hand was still on my thigh, but another arm was wrapped securely around me, pulling me into her side a little more.

I assumed we would stay like that for a bit, until she started to shift more noticeably and lifted the part of the blanket closest to her, and put it over her own head, taking me by surprise, a faint gasp leaving my lips when seeing that she’d joined me.

“You doing okay under here?” She spoke softly, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she looked at me folded up into a ball.

“I am. This blanket protects me from all.”

“Of course it does, the fluffier it is, the more protection, right?” She quoted words i’d spoken earlier on when bringing in the blanket for us.

“Are you sure you’re not going to boil under there?”

“Nope. And even if I do, the fluffier the blanket, the more protection from cannibal clowns.” I’d explained proudly. Yes, I'm an Avenger that fights extraterrestrials and demigods and still runs to a blanket for safety, leave me alone.

We stayed under there for a minute or two, holding hands and sharing small kisses while the movie continued and we hid in our little bubble.

“C’mon lovebirds, the movie isn’t over yet, you can continue that when we’ve gone to bed if you must.” Stark called out, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and retreat back to her previous position.

I don’t know what ran through my mind, I clearly didn’t think twice about the situation I was in, my default being to follow Natasha and pull the blanket down and off my head. Upon resurfacing from my cocoon, I looked towards the Television. Bad idea. With a shriek that I'm almost certain could be heard from Asgard, I flew under the blanket again after seeing Pennywise with all of his teeth on show, edging towards Eddie to eat him.

Natasha’s arms wound their way around me again, slightly shaking now from the fright. Even though the blanket tended to muffle sounds, I could hear the room fill with laughter and comments from the Avengers.

“I didn’t know your voice could go that high Y/L/N”

“Pennywise! You scared Y/N!”

“Y/N, it’s literally-”

“How about you guys shut up and watch the movie? Otherwise I swear to god Thor, I’ll bring snakes in here and Sam, I’ll cut the wings off of your suit.” I heard the redhead next to me threaten, alongside some more punishments to the others who laughed, immediately silencing them, all of them knowing that she wasn’t one for an empty threat.

Even though the laughter died down and no more words were spoken, tears still built up in my eyes and were daring to fall down my cheeks. I feel so embarrassed. A room full of superheroes and I was scared to death over a fictional clown in front of all of them.

I tried to keep my sniffles to a minimum and at a level where no one could hear me, however, they seemed to have caught Nat’s attention as she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear, but quietly so that it was only me that could hear.

“Mind if I come in?”

I chose not to verbally respond, instead, I pulled the edge of the blanket up, allowing her to bend down and make her way underneath. After making herself comfortable, she turned to me and did, what felt like study, my face before tutting under her breath.

“Идиоты. Are you okay?” I smiled at her speaking Russian. She often switched between the two, interchanging within sentences. I’d been around her enough to pick up on some of the terms, funnily enough she’d said that word so often, my understanding was immediate.

“Feeling a bit humiliated” My voice came out weak and slightly gravelly from the crying, her thumb immediately wiped the tears off of my cheeks, lingering afterwards.

“Don’t be. Everyone has their fears, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by having them. Okay? It just means you're human.” She patiently explained, sparking a question to leave my lips before realising.

“Do you have a fear?”

She smiled “mhm”

“Can I know what it is?”

She leaned in closer to me, lips hovering beside my ear so I could feel and hear her breathing quietly.

“Идиоты” She whispered, resulting in me clamping my hand over my mouth to limit the noise my laughter was making.

“There’s that smile I love.” She took my chin in her index finger and her thumb, her face once again, coming closer towards mine before our lips met in the middle, sharing a soft, quick kiss, distracting me from any embarrassment i’d previously felt.

________________

The movie had just finished, everyone was getting up and starting to clear up any mess they’d made, mainly popcorn that had fallen everywhere, Wanda and Vision being the main culprit, jumping at the scary parts had caused a popcorn avalanche near their seats.

Nat and I gathered our blankets and snacks we’d brought in, trying to ignore the slight tension hanging in the air, and just as we were about to walk to our bedroom, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Peter.

Rocking back and forth on his heels and fidgeting with his hands, he smiled.

“Hey, uh- miss Y/L/N. Miss Romanoff, sorry, I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay.” He rushed, clearly anxious to approach us considering the telling off Natasha gave everyone earlier.

“I’m okay, thank you Peter. You can call me Y/N by the way, ‘miss’ makes me feel old.” I chuckled, visibly seeing his shoulders relax at my response, he was really sweet, never wanting to get on anyone’s bad side. He’s a good kid.

“Sorry mi-,Y/N, sorry, I’ll remember for next time. That movie was pretty freaky, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Feeling more relaxed, I made a slow but steady beeline for the bedroom, wanting to have cuddles with Nat and go to sleep, hopefully forget the movie ever happened. Soon enough, we were both changed into a vest top, I wore a pair of shorts and Nat wore a pair of sweats and we were in bed, facing each other with our legs tangled together, our noses bumping every so often.

“I love you” I mumbled in between kisses, eyes opening briefly to be met by her green orbs looking back at me.

“I love you more, Detka.”

A silence then overtook the room, only being able to hear the breeze outside and a slight whistle from where it was flying through the trees. I’d usually adore this, finding peace in the wind and the darkness, tonight however, it felt unsettling. All I could hear in my head was the soundtrack to the movie, picturing the bloody teeth and that creepy smile from earlier in my head.

“Love?” I nudged my girlfriend’s nose gently, hoping she was still somewhat awake.

“Mhmm?”

“Can you, can you possibly sing to me?” Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face, wrapping her arms tightly around me before humming a quiet melody, sending me into a blissful sleep.

By noon the next day, I had received apologies from everyone in the compound, a couple of bone crushing hugs from Thor and some complementary pancakes that Wanda had made with some help from Bruce, aprons on and covered in flour. Everyone tucked into their individual stacks, enjoying some lighthearted conversation, Nat taking the opportunity to press a small kiss to the back of my hand, I quickly returned the gesture. It was lovely.

Movie night was a rollercoaster, but at the end of the day, I was surrounded by the best people, and nothing would change that, not even the fear of clowns.

Though they’re still really fucking scary.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

[bradleyfuckingbradshaw]

The Way You Don't Look At Me

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Steve starts preferring Sharon's company and Bucky offers you solace.

Word count: 1.5k

It's a Saturday when the first crack appears in your heart. You're not sure what starts it but you feel the crack making it a little harder to breathe. You knew you'd been fooling yourself when you fell in love with Steve. His girl would always be Peggy but you'd been foolish enough to hope he just might forget about her eventually.

Her death makes everything worse - it's what starts Steve's obsession with Sharon. He wants to learn more about Peggy.

"All that time I missed," he says looking over at you as if you'd understand. The worst part is that you do understand. You understand Steve missing Peggy and wanting to make sure she had a good life. You draw the line when he comes home one night and tells you that Sharon kissed him.

"Did you kiss her back?" His silence is all you need.

"But I want you. I need you." At no point does he say I love you which doesn't slip past you. In fact, you don't even remember the last time he said that to you.

"Okay." You forgive him. You let him come to bed with you and when he reaches down between your legs, you let him. You love Steve, you want Steve but you also know the relationship has become a time bomb and it's only a matter of time before everything implodes.

It's one of Tony's parties that triggers the explosion. You see him standing there with Sharon and all you can think is that he doesn't look at you that way anymore. Five drinks later, Bucky finds you in the bathroom crying your heart out and something bursts inside of him.

"Let's get you home," he whispers helping you out the back exit so no one sees you fall apart.

"He loves her," you mumble as Bucky tucks you in the car and getting into the driver's seat.

"He loves you too," Bucky tries to reason with you but it's no use. You don't doubt that he loves you but you're not her. You're not a 5ft8 goddess with legs for days and eyes that quite literally stares into your soul. You were never going to be enough and why you ever thought you would seem like a joke to you now.

"Not enough," you whisper but Bucky doesn't hear you. You don't say any more as he drives you back to your apartment.

"Do you want me to walk you up?" You're about to say you can do it yourself but you stumble as you try to get out the car scraping your knee on the concrete. In seconds, he's right there next to you helping you up.

"We should get that cleaned up," he whispers still holding on to you.

"Okay," you whisper feeling the alcohol hit properly. You've never noticed just how good Bucky looks especially with his short hair. A silly thought comes to mind but you couldn't do that to Steve or Bucky. So, you keep quiet and let him walk you up to your apartment. You're surprised by how gentle he is as he cleans up the grazed knee but you guess he's had his fair share of evenings bandaging up new wounds.

"Thank you." He gently rubs over the band-aid making sure it sticks to your skin. A superhero defeated by the sidewalk. Bucky's been quiet ever since you walked through the door and it makes you worry about him. Honestly, you always worry about him. He's been through so much and you know he still has nightmares about what he did to Steve when Steve first found him. You'd tended Steve after that but no one was there for Bucky.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly letting your hand run through his hair. He tenses up and you just know it's because he's not used to gentle hands touching him. Your mind is in shambles as you look at him. You told yourself you wouldn't do this but he just smells so good.

"Doll, this is a bad idea. We can't do this to Steve." The mention of his name brings you back from the edge and you give him a sad smile.

"Sometimes I get sad I didn't meet you first." There's no denying that you and Bucky have always had a sort of connection but you were already with Steve and you loved Steve more than anything. But now you weren't so sure. Images of him and Sharon flashes before your eyes as you think back to the office party. You can't help but wonder if he'd even be bothered by you sitting here with Bucky.

"Nothing good comes from that kind of thinking." He's too close for you to think straight but the last thing you want is for him to leave. You ask him to stay with you and he doesn't have the heart to say no. His body yearns for the same as yours but you can't have it. Neither of you could do that to Steve.

But it becomes obvious to you that Steve doesn't have the same apprehensions and it breaks your heart. You always thought Steve would be the one you'd end up with but now you're not so sure. You have a hard time imagining how you're going to recover from this. The more he pushes you away, the closer you get to Bucky. It starts as Bucky offering a safe place to talk but slowly, he opens up too and you can't ignore the feeling you get in your stomach when you think of Bucky. It's the reason you're sitting in the living room waiting for Steve to come home.

"We have to stop this," you tell him knowing that he agrees but he'd never be able to make the first move to end this. Not after all this time and everything you've been through.

"I know." He wants Sharon and you can't blame him because you want Bucky.

"I loved you. With all of my heart," you say. It's important to say it one last time because you'd never want him to think you didn't care for him.

"It's weird. I thought we were going to make it. I wanted to spend my life with you." He's right. It is weird knowing that's not your future anymore. But you also have to admit that you get butterflies in your stomach thinking about someone else now.

"I'm sad but I'm not. Does that make sense?" you ask him and laughs.

"Yeah. It makes sense."

===

You knock on the door to Bucky's apartment feeling the excitement take over. You and Steve breaking up had been a long time coming and the fact that you were now a free woman meant you could finally let yourself feel what you'd been ignoring ever since that night at the apartment.

"Hey. Can I come in?" Bucky steps aside letting you in. He's quick to put on a sweater to cover up his arm and you hate that he feels he has to hide from you. It's part of him and there's nothing to feel ashamed over.

"Come here," you plead holding out your arms. There's only a second of hesitation before he walks into your embrace.

"I broke up with Steve." He doesn't let go of you but you feel his body go rigid. He pulls away ever so slightly to be able to look at you. His lips almost touches yours but he needs you to close the gap.

"Please," he whispers and you lean in to kiss him. It starts off gentle and timid but everything changes as you let your nails run down his back. You wrap your legs around his waist and he instinctively lets his hands rest right under your ass for support. Bucky places kisses down your jaw and neck.

"Bedroom," you gasp as all of your feelings culminate into this one moment. You've denied yourself this for months and now you can finally have it.

"Read my mind." He carries you to the bedroom gently laying you on the bed. You move to pull his sweater off when instinct makes him stop you.

"Don't hide," you implore wanting to see all of him - love all of him. You lift up the hand of his prosthetic kissing the cool metal. You want him to understand that you want all of him.

"It's hid-"

"I love it," you interrupt him looking into those beautiful eyes and wishing you could remove the pain in them. Tonight isn't the night for him to let go of that insecurity though and you don't want to push him. In time, you'll make him understand just how perfect he is but right now you opt for cuddling up next to him enjoying the closeness.

"I'm sorry. I want to but I just..." His voice trails off but he has nothing to apologise for.

"There's no rush. Nothing to say sorry for. This right here is enough for me. You're enough for me." That night is the best sleep you've gotten in a long time. In the morning, Bucky is sound asleep right next to you snoring lightly which you think just might be the most adorable thing you've ever heard.

You just might end up loving this man.

[l4verq]

remnants (1)

ransom drysdale x reader

in which you have to protect ransom drysdale because he has the same face as steve rogers, your ex who’s gone back to peggy

warnings : fights, guns, hostage situation, tiny bit of violence

if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk in the comments💗

ʀᴇᴍɴᴀɴᴛꜱ

*not my gif*

-

ransom’s seen pretty much everything.

travelled around the world, eaten the finest delicacies, snapped away for five years into non-existence all because of a purple, ball-sack face alien.

or so he thought.

because sitting here cuffed to a chair infront of you barely conscious, he begs to differ.

how did the night get so fucked so fast?

“hey.” he extends his leg, trying to nudge yours desperately.

you were a sight to behold with your hair undone, dark locks tousled around your delicate neck.

but ransom can’t afford to marvel at you, in fact the first thing he needs to do is get the fuck away from you.

because the way you’d jammed that glass cup up that bartender’s throat without a second thought, you were no ordinary woman.

“psst, hey.” He tries again, eyes skimming over the room.

they probably were holding them both for ransom.

hell would freeze over before he gave any of his money to those fuckers who chained him up like a dog.

you stir around slightly as you slowly open your heavy eyes. a groan slips out when you try to adjust yourself, only tightening the hold on your hands.

“good, you’re up.”

you lift your head to see a bloodied ransom across you.

slumping back into your seat, your body cries out in pain at the slightest movements.

as soon as you’d tasted the martini, you knew it was an ambush, thankfully spitting most of it out.

but it was too late, the drug almost instantaneously taking action, making you groggy.

the last thing you vaguely remember is dragging ransom out only to be whacked out cold, seeing stars.

“what’s going on? hey, are you going back to sleep?”he asks, straining his leg out to nudge yours again.

“you just don’t shut up, do you?” you croak out, barely above a whisper.

“i’m being held hostage in this room,” his nose scrunches up, “so, I’m sorry if I’m just a little curious as to what the fuck is going on.”

he looks almost pitiful, dried blood on his forehead and desperation in his eyes.

reminds you of steve after missions when he would limp around, all bruised up.

your eyes flicker over to the one camera pointed right at you, but the way it was angled you knew your hands weren’t in view.

“do you know about the avengers?” you work on dislocating your wrist to free your hands chained behind you.

not exactly your favourite thing but it worked everytime.

he rolls his eyes and quirks an eyebrow.

“you think I don’t know the avengers? the whole ‘saviours of the world but we choose to remain anonymous’ crap?”

“well, you’re looking at one right now.” you give an umamused smile, slightly flinching at the wrench that causes a tear in your ligaments.

he probably wouldn’t have believed you if he hadn’t witness you take down six people with such ease just a few hours? ago.

“anyways long story short, you look just like captain america and for some reason hydra just can’t seem to get over that face of yours.”

he lets out a genuine laugh which only seems to intensify the throbbing pain in his head.

you were a whole other kind of crazy.

“steve rogers? no one’s even seen his face under that dumb cowl of his.” he snorts, noticing the slight shift in your face at the mention of steve.

“andy barber. jake jensen. colin shea. ever heard of them?”

another tear.

he shakes his head, his irritation only growing by the very second.

“a few months ago, each one of them started disappearing one after the other. the only thing they had in common was their faces. they looked exactly like you, like him.”

you clench your jaw as you position your wrist for the final twist.

the last one always hurt like a bitch.

“you’re crazy.” he huffs, in disbelief.

he knew he shouldn’t have gone to that stupid event, not let his mother get in his head like always.

he could be at home right now, in his lavish three bedroom villa overlooking the sylvan surroundings.

but here he was, tied up in a filthy room with an avenger.

you might have to agree with him on the crazy part because you’re regretting the whole dislocating thing when the last twist pulls through, pain nearly blinding you.

he can only watch in horror as he realises what you’re doing.

“no, like you’re actually insane.” he breathes out in disbelief as your hands slip out of the chain.

the door swings open, guns pointed right at you.

a particular face in the middle catches your eye as you recognise him.

“you know you’re not getting out of here that easy, right?” zemo chuckles, “broke those pretty bones for nothing.”

“you get blipped for five years and this is the first thing you do? somebody needs to get a life.” you slowly get up, hands raised (you think?)

you couldn’t really feel them anymore.

“sit back down.” he orders, gun pointed right at your head.

he yells at you to sit down again but the gun’s pointed at ransom now.

“holy fuck, dude, don’t point that shit at me. this is how 99% of the people in movies die.” ransom pleads, his eyes closed.

“he’s not steve, you know that. so, why are you doing this? I mean I know why I’m doing this.” you hesitantly sit back down, your ears pleased for once to hear the familiar whirring.

just a few more seconds. that’s all you needed.

he cocks his head, “doing what?”

“buying time.”

ransom’s seen enough action movies to know the probability of him accidentally being shot by any of the rain of bullets whizzing past you two right now is high.

too high for his liking.

he thinks he saw a red flying thing knock out zemo? before you pushed him down so hard the chair broke.

“jesus christ, are you trying to kill me?” He yells, his back throbbing in pain.

and all of a sudden, it’s quiet,a persistent ringing taking over his ears.

he opens his eyes to see you hovering over his face.

it’s weird, your lips seem to be moving but he can’t hear you.

and it’s all black.

“i just want you to know that what you did back there, that was stupid.” sam glares at you, in the rearview mirror.

“and dumb.” bucky chimes in.

you roll your eyes.

it was going to be a long ride to the safehouse.

the car bumps and ransom bounces around, his head hitting the top.

“jesus, hold him or something.” bucky turns around, looking at ransom’s unconscious body sprawled on the seat.

you scoot over closer to ransom, your hand guiding his head to your lap.

bucky turns back around, a grin creeping up to his face which you just want to punch off.

you look down at the bloody mess on Ransom’s forehead, fingers slightly grazing over it.

it was done with a blunt object, most likely the back of a gun.

you can’t stop staring at his face, the same lump forming in your throat again.

so you force yourself to look away, focus on the trees zooming past until sam stops the car infront of a small house, “we’re here.”

bucky hands you a bag of essentials, waving at you to go in, “we got him.”

the house is actually better than most safe houses you’re used to.

it has electricity and hot water and that’s already made it a top contender.

you head straight for the shower, stripping down to nothing while turning on the water.

you hiss in pain at the contact of water on your aching skin.

the water’s scorching hot but it’s the only way you feel clean.

you scrub off the grime and dirt like always, desperately washing away the dried blood under your fingernails.

a trail of reddish brown water as you wash your hair, nails scratching every surface of your scalp.

quickly changing into a set of clean clothes, you pull out a box of needles.

you’re sloppy with your stitches, maybe cause you’d gotten used to him doing it for you.

throwing your wet hair into a towel, you debate whether to clean his wound up or not.

but your hand is already reaching for the bag of first aid sprawled all over the sink.

“it’s just a nice thing to do.” you mumble, making your way to the living room.

sam’s passed out on the couch adjacent to ransom and you’re pretty sure bucky went out to get some food.

they’ve changed his clothes for him but the ugly bruise on his forehead only seems to be swelling up.

you sit down on the floor, rummaging through the box, pulling out cotton and antiseptic.

“am I dead?” he croaks out, slightly shifting.

you chuckle, looking back at him.

a few dabs of the brown liquid on the cotton.

“this is gonna sting.” You warn him before gently wiping the angry bruise.

he flinches, groaning in pain.

“where am I?”

“safe.”

“yea, that’s really comforting.” he looks up at you in annoyance.

you exchange to a new waft of cotton, still cleaning up the dried up blood.

it’s strange, how weird yet nice your gentle touches feel.

the way your lips slightly part and eyebrows knit together as you concentrate.

ransom never really had someone take care of him like this.

“wher’s Steve?” he asks the lingering question on his mind.

there’d been many conspiracy theories online, each one crazier than the other.

he again notices the slight clench of the jaw, the shift in your position at the mention of his name.

“gone.” you reply stoically, placing the gauze over the swelling wound.

a shit reply but he can’t bring himself to pry further.

you look down at his face, the familiarity of this catching you offguard.

after every mission, he’d force you to sit down and tend to your every wound, every scratch.

can’t have my girl walking around, all bruised up like that.

and you’d force him to sit down and do the same.

it was always so personal, standing between his legs, his hands around your waist while yours worked around.

“hey, you okay?” ransom lifts his head, regretting it instantly as pain shoots up his entire body.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill any second.

“yeah, I’m good. Get some rest.”

you fumble around, hurriedly picking up the first aid kit, your shaky hands doing little to help you.

you were clearly distraught and ransom had a sneaking suspicion why.

-

a/n : i dont even know if u can physically dislocate your wrist yourself lol, im just making shit up as i go lmao

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Jealousy Isn't Good

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Tom Holland (characters) x fem!Reader (Arvin Russell and Peter Parker)

Words: 1953

Summary (requested by @peeves6261427): “jealous tom/arvin/peter where the reader knows they’re jealous and tries to tease them but then tom/arvin/peter just go FULL dom” 

Warnings: jealousy, smut, fluff, dom!Tom Holland (+ characters mentioned)

A/N - I fucking love a good angsty + smutty imagine... hope you like just as much as I did writing it AHAHA :) x 

TOM HOLLAND: 

Now, when it came to Tom’s jealous side, he was terribly awful at hiding it.

To your complete surprise, it was actually a recurring thing... It wasn't that Tom had trust issues, he just would notice how others would try to “flirt with you”, according to him.  

However, you struggled to see this and saw no harm in these interactions, as most of the time you believed people were just being friendly. 

When he did become jealous he acted like a complete, stubborn child.

He would give you short, sharp answers, always be temperamental. 

Often in the moment you’d catch him making quick glances at you as you’d be talking to whomever. 

He’d take a deep breath in, his fists would clench to the point his knuckles turned white. 

“Tom, love, you’re doing it again...” 

Tom knew how to calm himself, however his mood would be foul for the day. 

He had a reputation to hold and did not want to jeopardise that, even if it took him all his strength to not even speak against it. 

He really hated the way some would stare at you, eyeing you up and down, especially at premieres where you were all dolled up. 

Tom would become super protective, especially amongst places where there were crowds upon crowds of people: you found that his arm would always be tightly wrapped around your waist. 

Occasionally, a verbal fight would even break out between the two of you because of this... Until Tom would realise your perspective. 

“And what about you Tom?! What about the millions of girls across the world that worship you? Do you see me complaining and whining?” 

You were happiest with Tom, and you’d mentioned it repeatedly to him... He knew you were with him for the long run, he just despised the fact that people didn’t realise this. 

He’d be the type that needed reassurance that you only had eyes for him, and to make up for his childish behaviour... Sex was the only answer.  

This also was the best way he could showcase his dominance over you: he was always in complete control when it came to sex, especially after an episode of jealousy. 

Tom would definitely be the type to leave love marks all over you, hickeys were his thing. He’d try not to leave them in obvious places where your skin would be exposed, again for his reputation especially with kids, however on the rare occasion that he’d lose himself... There wasn't nothing that a decent palette of makeup couldn’t cover up!

God sometimes he’d even surprise you with a quick, soft bite on your skin... He was playful like that. 

Definitely loves to spank you, again seeing his red hand-print form on your ass cheek just sparks joy in him like nothing else. 

And Tom, definitely loves being called Daddy. 

Nonetheless, it was a flaw in Tom’s character... He was the jealous type and it was something you were okay to live with. 

ARVIN RUSSELL: 

Now this man... Would literally go off. Not immediately, it would just constantly be building up inside until he could no longer keep the fury bottled up. 

Having to pick up Lenora from school, you also took to this privilege, which always meant Arvin would be waiting right outside for the two of you. He was protective like that. 

He was also, however, an impatient man: thus, on the occasional days that a few of your colleagues took up your time after school for a quick chat, often about an assignment or homework... He’d grown quite enraged. 

Especially due to the fact that he'd rarely see you during the weekdays from being busy with school. He didn’t want to attend and rather just work, although it took a toll very so often that he’d miss you. 

Being such a small town, didn't help the cause, whether it was walking down the street arm in arm, or catching up at the local diner, someone would stop and chat, minimising your time together even more. 

However, the jealousy would strike most with other male counterparts. 

Arvin, according to his own words “knew what these boys in this town were thinking...” 

For his age, and greatly due to his unfortunate circumstances growing up, Arvin mentally and emotionally matured rapidly for his age. 

Physically, he was also quite strong and didn’t hesitate when faced with a threat. 

Especially after the incident with Lenora and the boys at school... Arvin had a reputation that was built on sheer intimidation. No one dared to mess with anything that even remotely “belonged” to him. 

And he’d made it very clear that you were his. 

However on the downside, when a boy was “downright stupid” (again according to Arvin), and took a chance on you, or even tried to take advantage of you... Arvin would violently lash out. 

It was hard to intervene, especially when matters got physical. 

Arvin was obviously the dominant one: he’d precisely plan his attacks, when exactly to strike. 

Word would spread, and yet everyone would keep quiet... Some would even argue that Arvin did the right thing for standing by you.

“I-I just don't want people thinking the wrong things about you, baby.”   

However you did mention how upset you’d become, witnessing Arvin taking matters into his own hands: and worst of all, you’d hate seeing him hurt with minor wounds to show. 

During these times after the altercations, would be the most intimate. Arvin would apologise and promise to try never to lash out again, although you knew that was a lie. 

It was these moments he showed his most vulnerable side: he’d confess to how much you meant to him, how much he wanted to keep you safe and overall, how much he’d love you. 

“You are the absolute world to be Y/N, baby... You need to know I’d do anything for you.” 

Bless him, you thought. You knew violence was never an answer, although considering Arvin’s upbringing, it was mostly all he’d known, all that he was exposed to. 

“God, Arvin... I can take care of myself, you know that. A-And if I do ever get in trouble, you know you’ll be the first one I come to.” 

However what he dreaded the most was being apart from you. The fear that when you weren't together that’s when something terrible would befall you, killed him deep down and regardless of what you said, or no matter how confident you were of protecting yourself... He knew he’d always be there until he planned for the two of you to leave this “godforsaken town.” 

And of course, the sex helped him a lot. 

Arvin was the dominant one in the relationship throughout everything. He felt he needed to be in control, and obviously still took into consideration your thoughts and feelings.

However when it came to matters of life and death or even remotely close to your safety, he took serious. He prioritised your safety over his own, and that said a lot. 

When I tell you this man would have a breeding kink, I meant it: having children did frighten him a little, although the thought of having them with you, made him feel motivated to have a family of his own. 

He loves when you dry hump the fuck out him, seeing how you moan his name as your face to face with one another, the way your tits be jiggling/jumping the more intense you got. 

He preferred to have sex in remote, isolated locations. He preferred to silence and peace of mind. Only being in each other’s company. 

Often the sex happened in his car, and the moments after would be intimate just like after a fight. 

He loved you and you loved him... You both knew you were meant for one another. 

PETER PARKER: 

Having met Pete, there was no way you’d thought there could ever be a bad bone in him, however it seemed even the perfect Peter Parker struggled with a few minor flaws. 

Peter tended to get jealous, however over specific people that he saw as a threat. 

He was extremely calculative, and knew who posed a risk to his relationship with you.

He often wouldn’t speak up about it, letting it slide and seeking advice from Ned and Aunt May on what to do, however they’d often persuade him to believe it was nothing major to worry about, and that you only had eyes for him. 

And they couldn't be more right. 

Peter trusted you greatly, as you did with him. 

He didn't trust the cocky guys that would shoot their shot with you, and often it did infuriate him. 

At nights, when he was out overlooking the city for whoever would need the help of their friendly, neighbourhood Spider-man, he’d take the time to contemplate to himself. 

However, if he got really desperate for some help, he’d even ask his fellow Avengers... Tony wasn't much of a help, he’d just tell him to either spoil the hell out of you, “take her out to a nice restaurant, the chicks dig that intimacy shit.” 

Steve, on the other hand, was actually the most helpful. 

And they had all met you (and adored you), so they knew exactly who Peter was dealing with.

“Just talk to Y/N, I’m sure she’ll be most understanding... Usually when a guy feels this way about a girl, it means you want to take things seriously,” Captain reasoned. 

And from their Peter knew exactly what he had to do. 

Dates was a regular think, you made sure of that! Despite needing to balance school, work and Peter’s hectic life as an Avenger... You both proudly managed well. 

So taking both Tony’s and Capt’s relationship advice into consideration, Peter thought it would be perfect to just say what he needed to say.

“L-Look Y/N... I know I may not often say it or be the perfect boyfriend, but I-I just wanted to say...” 

God you loved how nervous he'd get. 

“What is it Pete?” You intervene with a bright smile on your face, trying to encourage him to just speak his mind. 

And it seemed to have worked, as his tense shoulders had finally relaxed and he returned with a smile. 

“I-I love you, Y/N. I mean, I-I really am so in love with you. It just bothers me that I see you talking to some guys a-and to think that maybe, one day... They might convince you to leave me.” 

Your heart broke silently to a thousand pieces: not only was this the first time Peter actually said the words “I love you”, however to hear that this was what had been worrying him this entire time. 

“Peter, please don’t ever think that! I could nor would I ever, leave someone as brilliant and caring as you... I love you, Pete, you need to know this.” 

And after what would have been the most sacred dates of your life, you knew exactly how to end the perfect night. 

As you both had politely left the restaurant, thanking the staff for their incredible food and service, you turned to Peter, your hands cupping his chiselled face. 

“Now how about you show me just how much you love me, huh?” 

Sex with Peter was often gentle and very personal. 

He wasn't over-the-top in control, always making sure you were comfortable and relaxed. 

However when you both had gotten into the rhythm of things... A whole, new side of him would peak. 

Definitely a boob guy... He’s rough hands would always be massaging your tits, especially when he ate you the fuck out. 

[disgruntledspacedad]

Javier Peña and commitment

a better love series  character analysis

Okay, not-so-briefly, let me finish what I started with this post, and say a few more words about Javier Peña and commitment. 

I think typical fanon describes Javi as a rogue, smoky, commitment-phobe man slut. The kind of guy who never settles down because he’s too busy having fun with his hookers. And yeah, at first glance, that’s a valid assumption. Javi definitely puts off that vibe. Hell, I think he even believes that of himself. 

I call bullshit, though. 

Javi is obviously an affection starved softie who is seeking intimacy and human contact. He just doesn’t know how to get it. Watch how deeply he connects with each of the women he sleeps with. He publicly greets the hookers in Medellín by name (like seriously what man does this??) and his relationship with Gabby seems intensely personal. He cares about what happens to her. He’s sweet, almost tender with her. 

This is a man with a huge heart and deep, unfulfilled needs.

Now, let me tease apart what I think happened that scarred Javi so profoundly.

I want to start with his family life. 

Now, a lot of this falls deep into headcanon territory, but this entire post is in context of Better Love, so that’s fine. However, I don’t think it’s too far off the mark for canon Javi, too. Just things to bear in mind.

Okay, so in The Kingpin Strategy, Chucho makes references to the fact that Javi has always been free spirited and idealistic. “You couldn’t wait to get out of here.”

Javi says, “It was right here, wasn’t it? The last time we had this conversation.” He sounds resentful, frustrated.

And Chucho replies, “You didn’t listen to me then, either.”

Man oh man, this says a lot. There’s a lot of reference to some very old bitterness, most (but not all of it) on Javi’s end. Let’s break it down.

In Better Love, Javi lost his mom to colon cancer when he was nineteen. We know from canon that he was chomping at the bits to get out of town, so I kind of think that Javi packed his bags the day that he turned eighteen and left. He’s from a small, close knit family, and him taking off into the blue without any warning would have shocked them. It would have hurt. 

The fact that he and Chuco have their conversation in the driveway is telling, too. 

I think Javi spent some significant time estranged from his family, and things were probably still rocky between them when his mom passed away. Colon cancer can be pretty subtle. Javi’s mom didn’t get a diagnosis until it was far too late for effective treatment. It would have hit her hard and fast, and she and Javi may not have had much time to reconcile. Hell, she was upset by Javi leaving - she may not have even told him what was going on.

Ouch.

Now, Javi is a guy that silently shoulders all of the responsibility that he’s not meant to carry, and he’s absolutely going to blame himself for taking off like that, and for being too stubborn to call home and check on Mom. Her death is the first in a series of wounds that lead to Javi’s (very misguided) belief that he’s a shit human, when truly, nothing could be further from the truth. 

Next, let’s talk about Lorraine. 

We know from Javi’s conversation with Steve that he thinks Lorraine was better off without him, giving us another glimpse of that deep seated self-loathing that we know he carries. Javi almost sounds wistful, like he regrets leaving her. Certainly, he regrets hurting her (more proof that Javi is actually a pretty sensitive guy - he knows he fucked up). But then we actually meet Lorraine in season three, and there’s something really weird there. 

Now, granted, Javi left her at the alter. Things are bound to be weird. But look at how he’s drawn to her, like he just can’t help crossing the room to see her again, even years later. That was the first big red flag for me. 

Then, watch how Lorraine treats him. She’s dismissive, pretty biting. And okay, yeah, she’s well within her right to be bitter. But then she says this:

“Can you imagine if we actually were married?”

Like, scoffs it. Guys, that’s a pretty serious dig. Lorraine is implying that Javi is beneath her, that he could never, ever be decent husband material. And watch his reaction. He takes this cut like he’s used to taking this cut from her. I don't know, but to me, it just reeks of a history of toxicity.

Men are absolutely capable of being the victims of toxic relationships and emotional abuse. I mean, duh. But try telling that to Javier Peña, with his tendency to internalize and self destruct. 

It would make a lot of sense to me that their relationship was built on this type of fucked up interaction, with Lorraine constantly pushing Javi to be this perfect dude with a white picket fence, and constantly calling him on his “failure” to do so. Maybe some of it was rooted in racism and classism - Lorraine seems like she could be that petty, materialistic type. Maybe Javi just wasn’t ready to settle down. 

Remember, too, that Javi’s love language is acts of service. He’s not a super romantic guy in the traditional sense, but he wants to do things for the person he loves, practical, tangible things to keep them safe and happy. If Javi thought that he could do better by Lorraine by putting a ring on her finger, it might be pretty easy to persuade him that he “ought” to do that, especially if there’s a continued history of verbal abuse. Remember that we tend to believe the things our abusers say about us, and that most of the time, this stuff starts subtle. If Lorraine is constantly suggesting that Javi’s not good enough for her, eventually, he’s going to fucking believe it. 

And consider the fallout of skipping town on your wedding day. No matter if the relationship is healthy or not, men tend to get the short end of the stick when it comes to breakup sympathy, and to leave a pretty woman like Lorraine waiting at the alter? My god, people would have been vicious to Javi. 

He probably believed all of the shitty things they said about him.

Javi threw himself into his career, and between a dangerous, high stress job with the DEA and never addressing these old hurts (Javi just doesn’t do that, you know), what you wind up with is a deeply wounded, “self sufficient” (read: emotionally constipated) man with raging self esteem issues and an intense fear of emotional intimacy. Now, all of this shit might have scarred Javi, but it doesn’t change his nature. Javi has a huge heart, he’s fiercely idealistic, and he desperately wants to do the right thing. And we all need love and human connection. 

Javi just denies this emphatically. 

But the ugly truth is, Javi avoids long term relationships because he thinks he doesn’t deserve them. It’s not even about being hurt again, not anymore. He almost sees it as an ethical thing, dammit. Give this boy a hug. 

This is why it took a fucking bomb to get him off his ass and admit his feelings for Ears. Javi would never, ever have done that without something very radical catching his attention. He would have let Ears walk straight out of his life, and yeah, it would have torn him to pieces, and he’d have always regretted it and wondered ‘what if,’ but that fear is an old, deeply rooted thing. That’s why I have Ears sort of pick up on the gravity of Javi saying, “I’m all in,” to her at the end of The Rules of Engagement. She’s not eloquent, but she’s pretty intuitive, and she knows that a commitment is something that Javier Peña does not take lightly.

And let me just say this about commitment: Javier Peña is a man who honors his fucking commitments. Watch what he’s willing to do for his informants - he always, always puts their wellbeing first, even before his own, even before the integrity of the hunt for the cartels. 

And Javier Peña is beyond devoted to bringing down the cartels. Like, that’s his entire arc in the show, right?

He’s committed to justice, too. Like fiercely, will do fucking anything to make things right, to make them fair. He wants to do the right thing so much it burns.

So, I don’t think it’s fair at all to say that Javier Peña is a man who fears commitment. He fears intimacy, while at the same time, he craves it. He fears human connection, when really, that’s the thing he needs most. 

But he doesn’t fuck around once he decides something. 

Which is the really, really fun thing about Better Love. For the first time, we get to see Javier Peña, the idealist who wears his poorly disguised heart blatantly on his sleeve, the man who goes for broke trying to get things done, the man who’s passions literally destroy him, in an intensely emotional relationship with another human. One who is just as devoted to him in return. 

So, anyway, if you’re still reading this, wow. I just wanted to babble about how Javier Peña is far more than brooding testosterone. Actually, he’s a very soft boy who needs patience and a lot of healing, and somebody who is willing to meet him exactly where he is and love him because of it.

And I want to give him that. 

[thrndlngs]

@the-fandoms-georgie

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷     A CURSE, natasha romanoff.

pairing: natasha romanoff x gn!asgardian!reader. genre: drabble with HELLA ANGST. warnings: character death + endgame spoilers. a/n: set in endgame. this made me cry lol. hopefully you guys enjoy it. i took a different approach to this so, hopefully it’s still enjoyable! also, reader is the asgardian god/dess of war :p  inspo: poem + another love (slowed down) by tom odell.

                         12 HOURS PRIOR.

     "SO YOU’RE GOING BACK TO ASGARD, HUH?” natasha asked as she approached you, offering a peanut butter sandwich as she straddles your lap while taking a bite of her own peanut butter sandwich. you decline it, which only makes her shrug her shoulders and continue to take a bite out of both before snaking her arms around your neck.

   “you’re doing the thing again.” 

   “i’m not doing the thing again.”

   “yes you are! you’re doing the ‘i’m a big bad asgardian whose forming a strategic plan on how to conquer a planet’ face.” she teases, mimicking said facial expression as you roll your eyes (almost) half tempted to throw her onto the couch you were sitting on. you know, for dramatics. 

   “just worried that someone will spot us. you know, with thor and i’s status and the talking, uh,” you trail off, canting your head a bit as natasha corrects you with an infectious laugh. “a raccoon.”

   “yeah, a raccoon. i could only hope that everything goes according to plan and that we manage to retrieve the Aether.”

   “you’re a horrible liar.” 

   “gods do not lie.” 

   “there’s a first time for everything honey.” 

   it’s your turn to laugh now, hands resting at the small of her back as you take in a breath. leave it to natasha to see right through you. “it will be hard going back.” you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence and natasha doesn’t force you. she only brings her hands to your face to trace soothing circles against your cheeks, offering that reassuring smile that had pulled you from some of your darkest times.

   “ — i know. i could only imagine what it would feel like going back home.” 

   you scoff, lips pursed as you look over her features, mirroring her smile. “you are.” 

   and she doesn’t understand it - not at first. you loved asgard. it was your home. in another lifetime though. you’ve grown to learn that asgard isn’t a place - asgard is it’s people, traditions - the will and strength to continue on in dire stances (kind of like now). but natasha, natasha was your home now. even if she wasn’t a place. she loved you inside and out. she didn’t see the god(dess) of war or the commander. she saw you, for you. the raw product of fighting battles that weren’t yours to begin with. 

   natasha saw you as someone who was forced a blade and told to fight. so maybe, the two of you are one in the same - just weapons to a cause. maybe that’s why she loved you. maybe that’s what attracted her to begin with, the ‘shared life experience’. she doesn’t know what it’s like being someone of your status - but she does know what it’s like to have your childhood stolen.

   and it hits her. you were referring to her. “i’m nothing compared to asgard.” her tone is a bit more serious now. 

   “you’re the liar now.” you tease, quickly stealing a kiss as natasha rolls her eyes. 

   “i’m serious. the way you talk about it—”

   “someone once told me that home is not a place. it’s where you feel safe and loved - it’s something you feel in here,” you poke at the place where her heart is, a childlike grin on your face as natasha rolls her eyes. again. if only the others could see how corny you truly were.

   and now it’s her turn to remain quiet, fingers trailing your tired features as the two of you sat there in silence. it isn’t until you pull at the ends of her hair that she finally says something to you (but it’s not directed at you, she’s just rambling at this point).

   “i’m not - i’m flattered but i can’t.. i just —”

   “baby,” you cut her off, taking your free hand and using it to turn her attention to you, offering her a soft smile as you laughed at her sudden ‘flustered’ expression. it’s amusing the effect you have on her - even after all these years. “you are my home. i feel safe when i’m with you. i am at my happiest when we are together. home is wherever i am with you. i love thor. i loved the king and queen. i loved asgard and my people, but it was never my home. asgard took everything from me and you, natasha, are the one who helped me see that i am more than what odin forced me to be.” 

                        4 HOURS PRIOR.

    “DON’T BE A HERO TWINKLETOES,” you warned, pointing an accusing finger in her direction as she holds up her hands in her defense as the two of you walked up to the platform. you let out a very audible sigh as natasha takes ahold of your hands and starts to make a very hushed sly comment on how the suit doesn’t do your hands justice. it makes you blush which prompts another comment on how natasha has more bragging points because she’s made the actual god(dess) of war blush.

   “love.”

   “lips are sealed honey,” natasha even ‘zips’ her lips and hands you the imaginary key, giving you a small wink.

   “try not to miss me too much, yeah?” you teased, brows raised as you tried to lighten the mood.

   “tell me about asgard when you get back?” natasha asked, taking a quick step to close the distance in between the two of you as you take a quick glance at thor and the ‘talking racoon’. you wonder if thor could handle it - in his current state, you think he might cry more than you would going back. 

   “natasha,” you begin, taking in a breath as you try to calm your emotions. do you tell her? do you not tell her? do you wait until all of this is over? do you do it now? your mind is working at the speed of light - it’s almost amusing how someone like you seems to get tongue twisted in a situation like this. you’re older now. much more wiser than you were in your last relationship. you’re a commander. a god(ddes) even. yet you couldn’t do something so simple as getting down on your knee? why hadn’t you done it before when it was the two of you? make it more.. intimate?

   “the suspense is killing me.” 

   “i love you,” it’s rushed and you’re laughing to mask the fear in your voice. “in this lifetime and the next.” 

   “don’t get all soft on me now,” she jokes, leaning in to press a kiss against your cheek. 

   “don’t take to long, remember, we have to check out the house in the mountains.” you remind her as she leans in for a kiss. 

   “until the sun grows cold, [yourname].” 

   “—and the stars grow old,” you finished, taking your place between her and steve, eyeing the both of them before turning your attention to the center of the room.

   “i’ll see you in a minute baby.”

                       2 HOURS PRIOR.

     “I WANTED TO GIVE HER the ring my mother put in basket, before she passed.” you tell your queen, a sigh leaving your parted lips as you hear both frigga and thor laugh at your sudden confession. you’re almost tempted to kick the back of her son’s knee, but, you settle for a small grunt instead, pursing your lips into a thin line.

   you loved natasha. and she loved you. not because you were some commander who’s led asgard into battle or worked as a council to odin. not because you’ve led asgard into victories or because men and women alike still pray to you before they go off into battle - 

   she loved you. the version of you that would walk the shorelines and keep a small jar of shells on your nightstand. the you that would tell her stories of all the universes you have traveled or of the stars you’ve slept under. the you that would take your time to braid her the way frigga would braid yours.

   “so why haven’t you?”

   “—you know why.” you answered. there’s a flicker of emotion in your eyes that frigga knows all too well, a gentle hand is placed against your cheek as you have to fight to not lean into. frigga wasn’t your mother - not biologically at least. but she’s watched you grow up. she’s watched you fight and tended to your wounds. she’s watched you fall apart and put yourself back together the day you lost a piece of yourself and went off again into battle. 

   you’ve spent your entire life fighting wars that weren’t yours. devoting lifetimes to a cause that you cared little for. you couldn’t remember the last time you had done something for yourself (the only reason you had came to earth to begin with, was to back up thor and retrieve loki). would it be wrong to do something for yourself for once? to live a life that wasn’t paved for you? to move on and let go of your previous lives?

   “you deserve more than what you’ve been given [your name]. please do not let your past keep you from spending the rest of your life they way you have chosen.”

   before you can respond - thor gives you a thumbs up, a way to tell you that he agrees with you. the two of you, were all that was left of your old home (besides valkyrie but, she hadn’t experienced what you and thor had) and you felt like you owed it to both frigga and odin to protect the only son they had left - 

   “the two of you will do great things. and i’m sure you have stories to tell me, but you are here to fix your future. not mine.” she tells you and thor, bringing the two of you in for one last embrace as you bury your face into her shoulder one last time. it’s bittersweet - she might not have been your mother by birthright but she was the closest thing you had to one. and it was painful to bid her goodbye again.

   “take care of each other. i love you. the both of you.”

                      2 HOURS AFTER.

     YOU’RE ENTIRE BODY IS NUMB. you’ve listened to thor’s plan on getting her back. you’ve listened to their cries and complaints - not once, not once had you spoken. you didn’t need to ask clint anything. you knew. you felt it. it felt like your heart had stopped beating - even if it was for just a few seconds. you knew. and there was no way you could bring her back. the guilt ridden archer had tried to approach you (as everyone else did) and you said nothing. your hands remained in your pockets as you looked out over the waters.

   asgard had fallen. half of the universe. loki. heimdall. frigga and odin. hela. and now natasha. you don’t think you’d ever love again - not the way you loved natasha. 

   “[your name],” he approaches with caution, hands held up in his defense as he tries to get a feel of what your current mood was. which is why he keeps his distance at first (and honestly he thinks you might conjure up a weapon and throw it at him) but you say nothing. you can’t find the right words to express the pain in your chest - 

   “whatever we need to do to get her back. we will do it. together. you have my word.” he tells you, taking a few more steps until he’s only a few centimeters in front of you now. and still, you say nothing. 

   “it’s different,” you managed to say, biting at the inside of your cheek as you avoid the blonde’s gaze. “it feels like - it feels like, a part of me is missing. almost as if i am no longer whole.” 

   and he knows better than to interrupt you, if this is your moment to release your grief - he’d be here. whether it be your punching bag, your shoulder to cry on or ear to listen. he would be there - just like you had been there for him all the times before.

   “i told her not to be the hero. i told her not to be the hero and she did it anyways - that’s my job. i’m the one who’s capable of healing. not her. she sacrificed herself knowing - knowing she wouldn’t come back.” you felt she was being selfish but deep down inside, you knew the reason why she had done it. and you would eventually come to terms with it but today was not that day. 

                    16 HOURS AFTER.

     “NATASHA WANTED ME TO GIVE—she wanted me to give this to you,” he chokes in the middle of his sentence, a closed fist is placed in your direction as wanda gives you a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder. you can’t manage to find the words not yet. you had spent the past day in a half trying to pick up whatever pieces of yourself remained. you knew you would outlive natasha - it’s a conversation that was very prominent in the relationship but never did you think it would be this soon.

   when the cool metal reaches your calloused palms, you could feel your heart being ripped from your chest. you laugh. not because the funeral or the situation is funny but because it’s ironic. ironic how the two of you had the same idea yet neither of you would get to  biting at the inside of you cheek as you reached in your pocket to take out the ring you were meant to give her. it’s ironic how the two of you both had the same idea - 

   “she said something. ‘with a love that shall not die—’”

   “’till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old,” you’re shaking your head now, raising the ring into the light to reveal the words: until the next, engraved in it. it’s a real tear-jerker - you aren’t sure what’s keeping you from doubling over and screaming to whatever listened that you needed to have her back. it wasn’t fair. why is it that the universe had to be so cruel to you once more? was the loss of your home? your people? your first love? had that not been enough? had you not suffered enough?

   but you couldn’t. you couldn’t bring yourself to cry. not anymore. “i guess this is my curse. maybe gods do not get happy endings.”

                    3 DAYS LATER.

     “WILL YOU BE JOINING ME?” asked thor as the two of you overlooked new asgard. thor, who had his arms behind his back, turns to you to take in your new look. his eyes trail to the necklace (wanda had gifted you a small chain to wear both of the rings you and natasha were meant to gift to each other). you keep your arms folded across your chest, taking in the view one last time before turning to the god, a sad smile evident on your tired face.

   “not this time i’m afraid your grace.” you replied, clearing your throat as you tried to find the right words to explain to him what lied ahead of you. “there’s a woman i must find. i sent my crows to aid the search but until then.. natasha and i were looking at a home, in the mountains, you know? we were going to get a dog and all that.” 

   “oh.” 

   “but i’m never too far. you know that.” 

   “i know. but it’s time we start forging our own fates isn’t it?” 

   you chuckle, leaning in to press a kiss against his forehead, a gesture that was very common in between the two of you. one that’s quickly followed by a bone crushing hug - 

   “be kind to yourself [your name]. i will be fine.”

   “and you to yourself as well. the crows will always watch over you thor.” 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ⋆☾

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