#old!steve wasn’t even Steve wtf

[imavikingo]

I said this in tags on another post, but it’s relevant and deserves its own post (I should be reading my usual pre- sleeping fic selection, BUT! I had this revelation -being sleepy is useful once again! -)

They NEEDED Steve to disappear, to be gone. To never care about Bucky anymore. That way they could treat Bucky as they see fit, and that means treating him like shit.

Steve would NEVER accept or allow Bucky to make amends, he would NEVER let the government take care of Bucky or be part of his “rehabilitation” in any way shape or form. That’s why he became Nomad, that’s why Bucky stayed in Wakanda. He would had fight with teeth and nails for Bucky.

“He died already more than once! He was a victim! A prisoner of war. He saved the fucking universe. What the fuck do you mean with amends!”

He became a wanted criminal for that same reason, to not let them have Bucky (nor other people in a fucking watchlist)

They needed Steves relationship with Bucky to become bitter, to be nothing more than a memory.

Steve being in retirement wouldn’t have cut it and…

Bucky was always going to follow Steve, no matter what.

So they needed him to stay alone (or with a companion that didn’t really care as much as Steve, enter Sam)

This way they killed two birds with one stone in Endgame: Reinforcing Steves “love” for Peggy, because “he’s NOT gay, you guys!”, and the partial isolation of Bucky.

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 11 (steddie, steve whump fic, stobin)

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 12 Part 13

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

Steve POV

1978—Lover’s Lake

Steve sinks, pulls upward with all he’s got left. He bursts through the surface, screaming: “Dad! Mom! Dad? I’m… lost… Heeeelp!”

The dark waters close seamlessly above his head.

His panic dies quickly, along with the burning pressure in his chest. He sees a swimmer approaching across the depths, like a light rippling through gloom. Their face is kind and strange—he can’t tell if they’re young or really old, or a guy or girl.

“Not yet,” they say. Their arms fold around him, and he’s calm and he isn’t cold. 

Until he is. 

A thousand icy needles jab at his skin, and he whimpers at the sensation of being dragged, carried. Voices shout in harsh, frightening tones, and then…

Apart from in his dreams, he doesn’t see THEM again for another seven years.

“Who do you work for?” demands that Soviet son-of-a-bitch, for the billionth time. 

Steve is tied up, bloodied, not sure if he’s laughing or crying. He’s sure as heck losing his mind, and… wtf? 

The other Soviet bastard raises his hand.

“Oh, come on! No, no, no, seriously?”

Steve doesn’t see the blow coming. Pain flashes up and darkness slams down—the darkness of blood, a rising, relentless tide. It washes him back into that calm place, and all his panic and pain float away.

He sees THEM again, in the fearless dark. 

“Still not yet,” they whisper.

The echoes hook him back. It’s Robin: “Help, heeeeelp!”

Oh yeah, they’ve been captured by the Soviets.

“My ears are ringing,” he tells her, “I can’t properly breathe, and I feel like my eyes’s about to pop out of my skull. Apart from that, I’m doing pretty good.”

He shouldn’t be, though. If there wasn’t so much else to be shitting himself about, he’d be yelling it loud enough to deafen them both. After that mauling from Hargrove, the doctor’s warning had been brutal. Any more head trauma, and he might have a stroke, a brain bleed, go blind, deaf, lose his memory, go mad. He could even die. He should be dead now, right?

Then it all gets even whackier. 

A blue tide rushes through the Soviet base. He yells for Robin, but everything’s already obliterated. The waters carry him along, limbs flailing free, no longer hurting, not even so scared. He knows it’s THEM, although this tsunami isn’t gentle. It’s Niagara levels of powerful and near as water can get to fire and fury. 

“You’ll know,” they tell him. “You’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

Then he’s back in the present, slowly waking up.  

He figures he’s been dreaming. Yeah, about those evil Soviets, and about… stuff that didn’t happen. Where the hell did that flood and fire crap come from?

“You’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

It’s deeply freaky, and he hates it. And Jesus Christ, why is his shoulder a screaming mess of pain? He opens his eyes.

“Robin?” She’s in her usual spot, sitting on the edge of his bunk. 

“Steve? Oh, thank God!”

“What happened this time? I’m so sick of…” He raises his head, flops it back again. There’s a bone-deep ache through his neck and both his arms. His wrists feel mangled. “Shit! Somebody was coming! Did they… Where’s Eddie?”

She puffs through her nostrils. “It’s okay. It was Hopper and El.”

Yeah, that makes some sorta sense. Hopper and Eleven were on the run too, after all. “Where’s Eddie? Is he all right?”

“Don’t ask me. Not spoken to him since he left you unconscious, hanging by one wrist. What was he even thinking?”

Blood rushes to Steve’s face. “That wasn’t entirely his fault. Honestly, I… uh…”

“I don’t care if you begged him on one knee! It was utterly moronic.”

“Listen, I was a moron too—it was matching moronic-ness. We were fooling around, and… Look, I passed out after he left to warn you. Before that, I basically forced him to go.”

“Forced him while roped up? You get yet another pass, Dingus. It’s gonna take a short-to-medium-length Ice Age for him to earn the same.”

Steve sighs hard. He’ll talk her around when he’s gotten the energy.

“Steve, can I ask you something?” She picks at the last flakes of that nail polish..

“If I said ‘no,’ would it make any difference?”

“Do you know anything about the fantastically random rainstorm last night?”

“About the whut?” 

His mind starts racing, in sync with his pulse. Trouble is, he’s beginning to get it. He knows that they—that thing in Lover’s Lake—saved his life. More than once. He still hasn’t got a clue about the rain. Or has he?

You freaked out last night, and thunder clouds hijacked your brain.

“Steve? You okay?”

“Jesus, I’m…” Nope, still not great. He slowly sits up. Under the blanket, he’s shirtless. He catches his left arm with his right, cradling it.

“Does your shoulder hurt bad?”

“No, Robin. It’s just randomly gone purple. Gonna be pitching for the Hoosiers this weekend for sure.” He notices one of his wrists is bandaged. “Got any of those left? Guess I’ll need a sling or something.”

“Yeah, I tried the lake water trick. Not much happened this time. On the other hand, Hopper said it was a miracle you didn’t dislocate it, so…  I’ll, uh, go get him. He’s got a ton of fresh supplies."

She goes, and Steve painfully eases his way into a clean shirt. It turns out to be another Hellfire Club one, which Eddie brought back from his meet at Skull Rock. Oh genius, Henderson, just brilliant! Get Eddie and me walking around with targets painted on our chests, why don’t you? Worse, I’m gonna look like a nerd. With TERRIBLE HAIR. The effort of getting his sweater on over it all, literally brings tears to his eyes. 

Then he sits up straight, on the edge of the bunk. He supports his bad arm, while forcing his features into his best ‘don’t-give-a-damn’ mask. 

When Hopper stoops under the door of the bunkroom, Steve’s jaw drops anyhow. He barely recognises the guy. Uh… wow? He’s not wearing a police uniform, but he still looks in goddamn charge, with an Indiana-Jones style hat that screams authority. He’s even gotten his hands on what looks like a police-issue firearm, in a halter at his side.

“Hey,” says Hopper. “You got yourself pretty beat up again, huh?”

“My shoulder hurts,” he whispers. It comes out so humiliatingly shakily, that when Hopper takes off his hat and sits down beside him, Steve looks away sharply. Oh, for Christ’s sake! He sniffs, dabs his eyes, pulls himself together. “It’s not so bad,” he mumbles.

“Yeah? You got tough joints, kid.”

Steve bites his lip to the point of pain.

Hopper’s brought a first-aid kit, and he fashions a sling for him. As he does, he fills Steve in on a few more details of how the hell he came back from the dead. Also, about what’s been going on in Hawkins, which is basically under military occupation. He ties the sling behind Steve’s neck, squeezes his good shoulder. “You take it easy. Sun’s up and we’ll be off in a few minutes.”

Hopper heads out. Steve scowls at his back. 

He ought to be relieved Hopper’s here. Admittedly, he’s been a total flop at taking care of himself and the others. Which only makes him more pissed with Hopper. How could somebody go through that in a Soviet gulag, win a wrestling match with demo-gorgons, and still come out alive, swinging, and the toughest dude in the state?

He gets his sneakers on and staggers as far as the door. Robin is loading the remnants of their supplies into an armoured Humvee, painted in military khaki and spattered with mud. Hopper’s fiddling under the hood, and Eleven hovers nearby. She gives Steve a sort-of smile, which he returns, while seething, 

That sick son-of-a-bitch Brenner took her hair again?

 “Where’s Eddie?” he asks, stepping further out, while fighting a wave of dizziness.

“Skulking,” calls Eddie, sloping out from some hiding spot. Robin folds her arms and stomps away. Steve squelches across the sticky ground toward Eddie. He looks so forlorn—hair flattened like a soggy puppy’s—that Steve can’t help grinning. 

“Sorry,” mouths Steve. “Sucky timing, huh?”

Eddie pulls a silly face, which doesn’t reach his pink eyes. Steve edges closer. Eddie shuffles back, looking genuinely spooked, which sends Steve’s mood into free-fall. 

He sits down heavily on Eddie’s empty beer-crate and nods at the Humvee. “You guys stole that baby?”

“Had to get around the roadblocks somehow,” says Hopper. “That rain churned up a ton of mud. It’s gonna slow them down, but it’s gonna slow us down too. We gotta move.”

“We? Why are we all going?” Steve hates this idea. Even more than he hates how he’s defaulting to surly teenager mode. He wonders—not for the first time though not for the billionth—if his actual parents have given him up for dead. “Don’t wanna seem ungrateful, Chief, but I really don’t feel like a road trip.” 

“O’Sullivan has torn Hawkins apart, searching for El. Next, he’s gonna have the army sweep this whole area. You won’t stand a chance.”

“Can’t we go back to those caves?” Steve mumbles toward his mud-flecked sneakers. 

“When they find you,” says Hopper, “best-case scenario—they hand Munson here over the police, or the cronies who count for it these days. Worst case-scenario? O’Sullivan keeps hold of him, as well as you.”

“Why the heck would some army guy be interested in me?”

He senses Hopper close in. “You signed the NDAs, Steve. They know YOU know about Eleven. They’ve interrogated Joyce and Jonathan, but there’s only so much they can do with people they can’t easily ‘disappear.’ If they think you’ve got intel as to her whereabouts… You get where I’m going with this?”

“So what?” Steve can’t look up. Like before, he can’t let Hopper see. “W-won’t be the first time I’ve been tortured.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry, kid. But tough talk ain’t gonna save you.”

“They kill people,” says Eleven. “I didn’t want to run, to leave Mike. To leave Max.” She sounds so very sad. “We had no choice.”

“I honestly don’t think we have much choice either, Steve,” says Robin, emerging from the cabin behind with the blankets. “Hop’s got more bottled water from Lover’s Lake in the truck. If you get sick or hurt, it could help.”

On being reminded of all that shit, Steve rubs his face, groans.

“We gonna talk about that now?” asks Eddie. “You know, the ginormous, soggy elephant spouting water out of its trunk? The one giving Steve buffed-to-the-max powers?”

“Powers?” Steve’s forced laugh comes out way too loud. “El can throw cars around with her mind, rip holes in dimensions. I can heal stuff. A bit. Then I pass out for half a day. It’s pointless.”

“Neeeewsflash,” sings Eddie. “You brought me back from the dead. Not pointless, I hope.”

Steve laughs again, totally hollow. What Eddie says feels fake, somehow. Was that even really him, or… Ugh, his head is too muddled.

“Using my powers tires me out too,” adds Eleven.

“Uh, hello? Can we please discuss the super-magical weather?” Having flung the bedding in the Humvee, Robin flings her arms toward the skies. “Twice, we were in danger. Twice, Steve rearranged the heavens to cover our sorry asses.”

Steve huffs: “Robin, I have no control over—"

“You have to learn control,” says Eleven.

“We can talk about this on the journey.” Hopper takes Steve by the elbow. He urges him to his feet, finally forcing Steve to slam him with a full-on glare. “C’mon, get in.”

Part 12

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 12 Part 13

[freedvmrouge]

SPOILERS | guardians of the galaxy vol. 3 

i just watched it yesterday and finally have my laptop open to talk about it!

first and foremost, WHY CAN’T SOMEONE JUST FUCKING KILL THE RED SKULL THIS MF IS A GODDAMN PARASITE ACROSS THE FUCKING UNIVERSE WTF

it wasn’t even surprising, man. this is fucking par for the goddamn course for that nazi asshole. of fucking course he’d find a way to travel the universe and continue his horrendous experiments and crimes against every being in existence. absolutely no one aligned with batman’s no-kill rule can ever convince me that this monster is deserving of a second chance. steve fucking rogers—the guy who said with his whole chest that he didn’t want to kill anyone, he just didn’t like bullies no matter where they come from—was fully prepared to murder johann ‘red skull’ shmidt but the tesseract transported him across the universe instead. this asshole already had a second chance. so please. please tell me the red skull finally fucking died in that explosion. i need it for closure and peace of mind.

if someone tells me the high evolutionary ain’t actually the red skull, imma look hella stupid, but alas, that is the hand i’ve been dealt.

that being said, i think this ‘plot twist’ was actually super well-done. i read somewhere years ago that good plot twists are where the information is already given to the viewer and the end result actually makes sense. it didn’t just come out of absolutely nowhere. it’s smart and clever and fun. it rewards the viewer rather than insult them coughloveandthundercough

right, so. i will admit that with the mcu’s most recent films, i was not coming into this film with high expectations. when my brother asked me to go, i really hesitated. i’m not so completely wow-ed by this film, but i am appreciative of what it is. i am also very appreciative of the fact that this stands on its own and isn’t a trailer for the next thing coughquantumaniacough and sure, you need to remember that this gamora is not the old gamora bc that one’s dead and gone, but the film addresses that really well, i think.

peter was the most outwardly grieving character in this film. gamora isn’t dead, per se, but their relationship and memories of the last few years are dead. now peter has to accept and live with and move on with the fact that there’s going to be a gamora still out there who has nothing to do with him. this was wonderfully done. and i was so happy when they parted the way they did and gamora returned to her home. the home she made for herself and the home that welcomed her back with open arms. 

addition to the above about this alt-gamora— just loving how nebula’s still in contact gamora. i think in a different, very roundabout way, nebula finally got the sister she wanted. plus she has her own family with the guardians and now all the kids/society with drax. plus her extremely abusive father is dead and gone. sounds like wins to me. okitsmorecomplicatedthanthatiknowbutlisten the important part is that nebula has moved on. she’s happy with how her life is going. she’s got things to look forward to. she’s doing great.

i think they did a great job with rocket. the story revolved around him and his history, so you might say he was the main main character and sure. he wasn’t a dynamic character bc there wasn’t exactly much of his present tense time being part of the journey of the film to grow as a character. but he did get closure for himself. he wasn’t able to save his friends, lylla, floor, and teeths, but he managed to save a whole bunch of others like him. he even confronted his abuser (which, you are never obligated to do so, just fyi) and lived. and he will keep on living to his fullest with his new and old friends/family. i’m so happy for rocket.

last notes: i’m really happy with how everyone parted. i was fully expecting core members to die off and that’s it for their actors’ tenures in the mcu, at least with this character. it seems like marvel writers finally listened lol even if we never see drax/nebula again, we know they’re off helping build a society. or peter decided to stay with his grandfather and just live on earth. or gamora’s off with the ravagers. it makes sense for their characters and their individual journies. it’s great. it’s fantastic. (though i actually wish peter died bc wtf he was without oxygen and was ready to fucking explode or smth but suddenly adam bringing him back to knowwhere is enough to revive him. ok.)

[lennjamin-o7]

🌯🗡️ anon here! I just woke up to find Sweeter than Honey got posted!! Positively vibrating at this development, my excitement cannot be contained! I’ve already read it like twice and I’m probably just gonna read it again and again throughout the day before rereading TBTF for what must be the 1000th time by now before you bless us with a new chap for that!

I genuinely just love how things are starting off in Sweeter, Tech being genuinely just a kind little skrunkle and excusing how his siblings and parents are kinda dicks to him sometimes purely because he’s been told like all his life (intentionally or not) that he’s the “meh” one is peak writing.

Also Phil!!!! I LOVE how devious he’s been, bro went from “who’s fucking kid is this >:(“ to “who cares, mine now” over the course of like a single evening and I love it. Of course there’s the whole revenge factor and everything else but I just love the thought that Techs vibes were simply so good that he decided he needed to snatch this kid up!

Phil seeing the magic kid he made and has been screening to have for years has a single (yet to be revealed) flaw: Fuck this child, all is lost, I hate this deal and now I don’t get a nice surprise baby for my wife >:(

Phil after spending a single evening with Tech, the ‘meh’ son of the royal family: Sweet child, new baby boy, have my TOTALLY not magical cookies which will DEFINITELY not ultimately lead to you becoming my new little so boy. What did I do to your hair? Oh don’t worry about that nothing important I prommy

Skrunkleblade is so underrated and I wish I saw it in more fics also Carl!!! I would kill for Carl, that horse is spoiled as shit and he absolutely deserves it! Oh also! That part where Tech says mentally that he gave his actual bake to Nicki ans Steve?? Wonderful, I ate that shit UP. Techno feeling generally disconnected from his family so he finds family in the staff they assign to him? Delectable, a delicious meal indeed.

Oh and the drama that’s gonna be revealed when Philza finally like rolls up behind the royal family with a very attached and a probably slightly more magical than before Techno is gonna be perfect. Techs gonna be so attached by the end of this journey because Phil showed him like scraps of human kindness (fae kindness?) it’s gonna be absolutely wild.

Kristins gonna have a whole lot of a show when they finally end up there, I doubt Phil’s ever caused the sheer amount of drama he’s about to cause now before. She’ll end up with a new sonboy by the end of it so alls well that and well I guess lmao.

As always, I hope you have a nice day and have enjoyed my brainrot, oh also! Stop being so hard on yourself! Your writing? Delectable, your characterisation? Perfect, your plot lines? Absolutely delicious!!

Things come up and that is life. I know you’ve said you don’t like kinda promising a new chap on a certain day and then not giving it to us on that day but if anyone ever decides to have beef about that they can meet me in the parking lot and can fight me in hand to hand combat.

On that end note, I hope this ask (message? Idk) wasn’t too hard to read with me jumping around between points as you can probably tell I was very excited about this lmao, I’m sorry if I’ve been a bother or if I’ve overstepped and I hope you stop stressing about self made deadlines!

Lol, I'm so glad you liked Sweeter Than Honey. I felt bad about not finishing the new TBTF chapter in time, so I decided to post at least the first chapter. 💚💚💚🥹

Techno is a very normal Thirteen year old. He's a little bit skrunkly, as thirteen year old boys are. He just has the bonus benefit of growing up with two siblings that are very not skrunkly and that is not all that great for self esteem. Like, he's a good kid! A really good kid. Excellent sonboy material. He just gets a little overlooked. Or a lot overlooked.

Philza is a plotting. He saw the good sonboy material and wanted it. But yeah, first he was like "wtf? Where are this child's parents? I'm having a moment over here. Aww, he's sweet...and I have beef with his parents...and I mean, I DID want a child...😀" Philza just has the BEST LUCK.

But he is always plotting, the little chaos stirrer that he is. He has no children to play the straight and narrow for, so he is going to be a problem. He is not lying when he says that he does not do politics because he can't resist making things worse because it is funny.

Yeah, Phil is really upset with what has happened with the Princess. He put a ton of effort into that spell!

Techno is a very 13 year old boy. He sees the rules and sometimes his brain says that he doesn't have to follow them. And it's not like his parents paid attention enough to RIGHTFULLY FREAK OUT that he did that. They don't know he has made that very dumb decision in the past. He would be in SO MUCH TROUBLE if they knew.

Oh, when Phil eventually comes eye to eye with the royal family? :) :) :) That is going to be... so so fun.

Phil has ABSOLUTELY caused this amount of drama before. Not this KIND specifically. But there is a reason the Faerie Realm is surrounded by a fucking massive magic lake. And there is a reason there is now only one faerie court instead of two. And there is a reason that no faerie complains that Phil has zero interest in playing in politics. He is having FUN. And sometimes that fun gets a little out of hand.

"What do you MEAN Atlantis sank? What kind of idiot would cause Atlantis to sink?"

"Well, my Queen, the Faerie in question thought it would be very funny if he could try to sink, and then unsink it. Except he failed at the unsink part."

"What the fuck????Which bozo did that???"

"...your husband..."

"...oh! Awww. That's just like him! I'll have to go see how he did that! I'm sure he had a very good reason."

"My Queen, will you PLEASE not encourage your husband???"

"No! I've decided this is now funny! Atlantis stays sunk."

The King saying that he was going to get the Queen to break the deal is hilarious. Kristin has never told her trophy husband no.

But hey. There's a first time for everything, isn't there? :) :) :)

Oh, I loved reading this! I am glad people enjoyed it so far! And I love hearing the thoughts on it! It makes me feel great 💚💚💚💚 No matter the story, please feel free to send me brain rot. And I understood it perfectly! It wasn't hard at all 💚💚💚💚

[skyure]

Steve leaving Bucky. This is what mentally fricked me over when watching Endgame. (lets leave Tony’s death out of it, I literally cried the color out of my eyes at that...) Steve, up until Endgame, was Bucky-Obsessed. There is no other way to describe it. The whole of CACW I dubbed “Bucky War” Because it was never about the Accords, only about Bucky. CATWS, Cap ONLY cared about Bucky (Nat bleeding out beside him and he was just “we need to save Bucky”, istg). And then THAT bit of bullshittery?! Yeah, no. But to be honest, ... seeing how MCU made Cap out to be ... I kinda wasn’t surprised? All the love to Chris Evans, he’s such a fantastic human being, but MCU Cap? Holy. Mother. Of. God. How about no?! That’s one selfish bastard, right from the start. If someone watches the movies once, they might not see the subtle signs at first of it, but rewatching the stuff? Yikes. So the “Staying in the past” thing isn’t as surprising as it should be, I’m just so eternally pissed off at ripping Peggy’s backstory apart and Cap literally doing NOTHING to help Bucky (Since that’s obviously the same timeline, seeing as Cap shows up as old-man-Cap), NOTHING to help Tony, NOTHING to stop Hydra, NOTHING to prevent Thanos from happening, NOTHING to change ANYTHING for the better, he just got his girl, on the expense of everybody else, even the ‘BFF’ he left behind after rushing after him for MOVIES on end... I can’t... just... Wtf.

Stucky used to be my comfort ship.

I used to think Steve and Bucky cared for each other so deeply and tragically that their love – even if only viewed as platonic – could not be denied by anyone. Not after Steve spent THREE whole movies, the entire Cap trilogy, proving how much Bucky meant to him over and over and over. Steve was willing to fight for him and die for him in every single movie. I used to think that even if Marvel gave Steve another love interest, even if he died in Endgame, it wouldn’t change or negate how devoted they were to each other. That they would still be friends “til the end of the line.”

Little did I know what awaited me in Endgame was a fate worse than death.

Steve left and in doing so rewrote everything we thought we knew about him and his relationship with Bucky. About who Steve is as a character entirely. It wasn’t just that he abandoned his supposed best friend, who he had been chasing and obsessing over for years. Who was there for him and looked after him ever since they were children. If Steve had left the Bucky he used to know in the 1940s for some love interest and a life without him, it would still be pretty out of character, but I would eventually get over it. 1940s!Bucky was confident, happy, and had family and friends who cared about him. Endgame!Bucky is not that Bucky.

Endgame!Bucky is broken and lost and just now learning how to be a person again. Endgame!Bucky has no friends and no family. Endgame!Bucky just spent the last 70 years of his life going from one fight to another, being brainwashed and tortured and manipulated and abused. Endgame!Bucky is clinging by a thread to the one and only thing he knows and values in this world: Steve.

This is the Bucky that Steve chose to leave.

If Steve was any kind of friend at all – if Steve was truly a hero and the morally upstanding person he’s portrayed as, a person worthy of wielding Mjolnir – he would know these things about Bucky, his best friend since childhood, and at the very least, would refuse to leave his side until Bucky had some sort of support network and seemed well-adjusted enough to handle it. But he doesn’t. Even in their farewell scene when Bucky (looking like a kicked puppy) says to him “I’m gonna miss you” Steve won’t even echo the sentiment. He just says “it’s gonna be okay,” as if he’s aware of the pain Bucky must be in and essentially tells him, “don’t worry, you’ll get over it.” And I’m not even going to get into the terrible way Steve treated his other best friend, Sam, by keeping him completely in the dark about his plans for absolutely no reason and abandoning him as well.

Marvel didn’t just make Steve act out of character in Endgame in an effort to no-homo him and create a ~surprise twist~. They didn’t just make him a bit selfish and a bad friend. They straight up made him a villain, and I will never ever forgive them for it.

[georgiapeach30513]

Previous character anon: but the thing is, Steve did everything for others for a very long time. I can understand why some people hated that he went back to the past but TBH, if they weren’t going to kill him, they were going to send him back in time. I fault that as a writing plot device because Chris wasn’t coming back and if they weren’t going to kill Steve they wouldn’t be able to keep him in the present and not have him show up to help. Think about it. Steve’s character never backs down from a fight even when the odds are against him. If they kept him in the present they’d have to continuously explain away “why he’s not around. Why he’s not here helping Bucky and Sam do xyz.” The end result is the same - he won’t be here. Even if you say, “Steves at home on the couch eating pizza while Sam and Bucky are out fighting xyz” it still feels cheapened and shortchanged.

IMHO, the writers should have killed him and done a quick where he’s meeting Peggy in the afterlife. He dies on the field and Sam gets his shield and Sam goes on to lead his legacy for him. That would have made everyone satisfied.

I also disagree with him being selfish because why is it that when he wants to do something for him - have his own life? He is selfish but when other people bounce off to do xyz it’s whatever? And another thing…Steve did too much for Bucky. Bucky needed to find out who he was on his own and he sorta did do that when he broke out of his brainwashing in cap TWS. He just disappeared for years and Steve cannot always be there hanging onto him. Steve did keep trying to look for him but nobody ever wants to mention that. Additionally, Steve had to learn to be on his own without parents or anything - yes he says he had Bucky even when he had nothing but IMHO it’s the Bucky fans who take it way too far and assume Steve has to do 1000% everything for him. When Bucky “died” Steve also thought he died then woke up 70 years later and had to learn how to survive again. He just did it. I hate that people undermine how sad and lonely and lost he must have felt, and just assume he had to adjust quickly and how much he should have accepted the future. You can tell throughout his films he doesn’t fit in. He’s only complacent because he thinks he doesn’t have any other choice. He wanted to die when he went down in the ice and when he was brought back I doubt he wanted that.

To me, it’s unfair. Steve deserved to have his own life and the MCU never gave it to him onscreen. They never went into his family life, deleted all the scenes where he’s struggling to learn in the present, and his old love interest died while he gets assigned a new love interest who is his old interest great niece (wtf marvel??).

Lastly, Peggy. Another plot device. It’s obvious to me in TWS the “husband” Peggy had is supposed to be Steve. They never mention his name and they never show a picture of him. This is a loophole in which they were planning to possibly use to shoehorn Steve in as the husband the whole time. They may not have used it if Steve were to die in endgame. I personally think if he had died it would have been a more succinct closure to his storyline but also sad because he never would have been able to live without a war.

I hope you can understand - this is how I feel because I love the character and I truly feel I understand him and why the MCU writers wrote his story the way they did.

I don’t have anything against Bucky but I don’t like that many Bucky fans feel Steve needs to be there to fill all the voids and exist to only be his support. Steve did that for three movies. Why does he continue to need to sacrifice for him? That’s what I don’t get. When does Bucky return the favor to Steve? All you hear is Steve saying Bucky was there for him when they were young. But it’s all he said, he did. They meet again in the future and their relationship is the same but Bucky spends time recovering in wakanda because Steve gets help from T’challa to help him. Like….when does he get to return this to Steve? I don’t think we ever hear him say thank you for all you’ve done for me Steve.

Sam…this one is where I do agree with you. I always felt the cap trilogy wrote Sam as a best friend character to help steve similar to how Rhodey is a best friend character to Tony. He exists to help and befriend Steve and the storyline doesn’t showcase too much elsewise. In the comics they go way deeper into the mutual friendship but in the movies it’s like ok well Steve is not around to help Sam transition into cap so what was the point? How could you write it so he just disappears and now Sam gotta do it on his own?

But ….if Steve had stayed around in the MCU, ask yourself, would Sam still be cap now? Would they have written that storyline in where Steve steps down from the shield and is nomad or something else while Sam fully takes on the cap mantle?

I just think the movies don’t flesh out certain relationships well and I really don’t think they did Steve justice in the end. They gave him three movies - one where it’s mostly avengers and Tony’s parent issues. We never see Steve go back to BK in modern times. We never see him talk about his family. His upbringing. It annoys me a lot because IMO, he deserved a lot more.

I do agree. Steve would have had to die in order to fully be finished. I blame a lot of this on the writing itself. It seemed a bit lazy honestly. And I think it would have made just as much sense for Steve to have passed more than Tony. I guess Tony made a greater sacrifice because he had a family. Steve was willing and ready to die, but I digress. It could be a cheap ploy to eventually bring them back.

In my opinion, I feel Steve had more connection and care towards Bucky than Peggy. There's a reason why everyone loves Stucky. Bucky and Steve were soulmates, whether you choose to think it is platonic or not. Steve did a lot for Bucky because growing up, Bucky did a lot for him. Steve was returning the favor. That's what friends do.

And let's not forget that Bucky wasn't just frozen on ice. Bucky was tortured. He was brainwashed, and made to kill people. There is a complete difference in Steve and Bucky's mental health. There literally is NO comparison. I'm not even saying that Steve has to do everything with or for Bucky. I'm saying that he went from his side goal being to help Bucky, to leaving him in a literal snap. That's putting the brakes on quick. I don't take Steve not fitting in lightly. In fact I think Steve AND Bucky has some of the more tragic stories in the MCU. They never asked for this life. It was thrust upon them. But please, if we can look at what Steve was going through, consider what Bucky went through as a tortured person as well. Steve wasn't forced to become his worst nightmare.

My issues with Peggy is because of her AND Howard Stark Hydra was able to rebuild right under SHIELD! They were the ones that decided to keep Zola alive. Because they wanted his brain. Because of Zola Hydra was rebuilt. The created the Winter Soldier program, and who was THE Winter Soldier? Bucky. And who knew about this? Steve and Natasha. So yeah, it's a bit of a cheap and low blow to Bucky fans. But if you think about it, also to Steve. You mean to tell me that someone Steve loved so dearly, like Bucky, he would go back in time to one of the people who is the reason he was tortured?? I just don't buy that at all. Steve going back or dying isn't the issue for me. It's going back to Peggy.

So Steve is going to idly sit at home, knowing that Peggy and Howard are keeping Zola alive, all while Zola is rebuilding the very people that torture Bucky. And how many people was Bucky forced to kill?? Including Howard Stark, himself. No. It's lazy writing. It negates all that build up to present day. It was a "sweet" moment, until you think about everything that happened.

I believe Steve should have a life outside of Bucky. But I don't agree with him going back to Peggy. During a time of war as well. No matter where Steve is, there will always be a fight. Honestly, the better way to end his story would have been in death.

Now with Sam, yes, that is a complete disservice. But I think Sam could (depending on the writers) become a better Cap because of that. I loved Sam and Steve's relationship. Sam really helped Steve out. And their stories were similar. Although, Riley did actually pass. So both Sam and Steve blamed themselves for the death of their friends.

Civil War was essentially an Avengers movie. That movie really wasn't even about Steve. Again, I blame a lot of this on the writers.

[reefer-reelz-n-reviews]

Spice World (1997)

Smoking: Jaaayyyssss

 

Spice Girls is something that I grew up with. I may have only been 5 when the movie came out, but If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends. What more can I say? And what girl doesn’t like a girl power movie sing-a-long.

Growing up Baby Spice, Emma Bunton, was my favorite, now I’m much more partial to Scary Spice, Mel B. Probably my favorite part about this movie is that it is a movie, about a documentary, and also another movie. And probably the most unrealistic thing about this movie is how much space they have on their personal double decker bus.

They really are all different not just like their names but their personalities. But they are all so close even with their friends outside of their group.

Seeing Baby Spice with those huge platform shoes on takes me back lol! And makes me wonder how short she really is.

Ummm. There was literally a thunderstorm in the evil newspaper guys office. Like wtf? Lolol. Not something I’ve noticed before, and watching it stoned I was like, “Wait what?” hahaha.

Posh Spice, Victoria Beckham, has a mini runway on her side of the bus…and its not like it runs into the other side of the bus.. Mel B while looking at the fish tank on the bus, “There’s the ugly one that reminds me of my ex-boyfriend Stephen,” I’m crying hahaha!

I love getting to watch the part where they perform, I’m the Leader of the Gang and the guys first come out in those white short shorts, and the compromise ends up being this purple jump suit with their butts hanging out. I mean, it was either that or basically looking at their peeps hanging full on in your face basically.

Next, we have aliens. They literally get to meet fans from outterspace. What? Interstellar perverts. Who want tickets to their show. And get an autograph. And Ginger Spice, Geri Horner, gives one of them a kiss. I mean cute but kind of gross lol.

Wonder if you ever recognized that Meat Loaf was in the movie too. He was the bus driver. Even says his family “I won’t do that,” phrase in the movie.

I like getting to watch the movie guys pitching ideas to their manager. The Spice Force 5 I think is the closest one. Freaking Mel B was the explosives expert and she does the lever for the bomb and you see these buildings collapse and she stands up and goes, “Oh no!” This is why she is my favorite now haha! She cracks me up!

You know this whole time, up until doing this review. I thought that the manager in this movie was played by Steve Valentine, but really its Richard E. Grant… in my defense it’s the side burns okay.. my bad 😝

I never really understood why they took their pregnant friend who is literally over due to have her baby to a club. Like I feel that wasn’t smart at all. But gotta make the movie more dramatic, right? And then the movie runs into the movie pitchers ideas. Like is it what’s supposed to happen, or is it just the pitch? Hmmm. Then it gets ridiculous... Why would they be on top of the bus?

The chief has the cutest little pig in the movie. It’s like he’s a villain with a cat, but it’s a pig. He ends up feeding it milk at one point. It was really cute.

I love the ending where it’s like we are behind the scenes to them filling the movie, and then they break the 4th wall talking to the people in the theater and at home. Last line, “what happened to the bomb on the bus?!”

I will always love watching this movie. I still listen to their songs on my spotify actually. And probably always will. 80 years old sitting in the house jamming Spice Up Your Life.

That’s all for now! Till next time.

-RRR

[musclesandhammering]

Honestly if Bucky Barnes wasn’t actively being hunted down by the government for crimes he wasn’t responsible for, he would’ve been on Team Iron Man too.

[ker0senebunny]

meet me behind the mall✫*ﾟ･ﾟ

steve harrington x fem!reader

part ii — 9/25/22

summary: steve was never yours to lose. you went in knowing that, but god, you'd give anything to go back to that summer. a tale of childhood enemies, kisses in cars, and the best summer of your life. inspired by my favorite track from folklore. enemies to almost lovers. focuses primarily on seasons 2, 3, and 4. (angst, fluff, smut)

warnings: afab!fem!reader, language, angst, fluff, smut (18+), dom!steve strikes again except he's a lil meaner, sub!reader, drinking/use of alcohol, but no use of sir or daddy etc, praise + degredation combo yktv, oral (m!recieving, mentions of f!receiving), mentions of penetration (pls remember to practice safe sex!!), mentions of fingering, use of pet names, size kink (for like one second), dirty talk, no use of y/n, kinda asshole!steve but pt ii is gonna be more soft s3 steve. promise. all characters are 18+, beta'd (freakin finally) by @flwersgarden, @royalmaybank, @appocalipse, and @kissmxcheek

word count: 9,596 (jeez. now u all see why it took so long)

notes: first of all: thank you to my absolutely lovely proofreaders/editers/besties. you all are always kind, always encouraging, always loving. you motivate me on my most unmotivated days. i admire you all so much as writers and as wonderful people. with that being said, it's been a while, hasn't it! so sorry for the delay. college is very overwhelming! anyways, as you see above, the sequel will (hopefully) be out in two weeks. this is part i of iii so strap in everybody. enjoy! xox olive

p.s. 500 followers wtf??? thankyou im gonna stinkin cry. and as always, reblogs are greatly appreciated. thank u for the lurv (srsly)

when steve harrington loves someone, he makes it known. which perfectly explains why he didn’t want to make you known.

you wanted him to be the boy who walked you up your driveway, moths fluttering against the porch light overhead. you wanted him to take your chin between his fingers and tilt your lips toward his. you wanted to taste the watermelon lip balm he’d borrowed from you. you wanted him to wait until you unlocked the door, almost slipping inside, before turning around to feel the plush of his lips against yours just once more.

and you foolishly believed that he could be that boy.

instead, you got rushed calls asking you to meet him behind the mall in his BMW and a stupid nickname.

steve was probably your greatest enemy (no, you’re not exaggerating. a years-long feud has earned him that title). but it was fine. after all, you had your best friend robin. the two of you were planning on moving to california after high school, dreaming of a shabby apartment with peeling paint that you’d cover up with photos of friends and posters. maybe you’d coparent a cat. you didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life, yet. you just couldn’t handle hawkins anymore. it was a drab little town, rusted and decaying. not quite past its prime — there wasn’t really ever a prime. you just wanted more.

steve was your next door neighbor. to say things had been rocky between the two of you would be an understatement. your parents were on good terms, and you and steve used to be sort-of-maybe-kind-of friends.

it all started when an ice cream truck pulled onto your ritzy street. you ran out of your house at full force: nine years old, with one tooth missing in the front. you had begged your mom for her spare change right before you sprinted out the door. you just had to get the last cherry ice pop. but someone was there before you; you watched as the truck driver placed a red “x” over your precious ice pop flavor. you were dejected, preparing to go back inside when you caught a glimpse of a striped shirt out of the corner of your eye. it was steve harrington, your older next door neighbor who lived just over the fence to the right of you. you threw a determined look in the direction of the brown-haired boy before marching up to him. you tapped him on the shoulder and he looked at you, confusedly. you held out your little palm, coins clinking and set in the center.

“i’ll pay you extra for that ice pop,” you said, your mouth set into a serious line. steve seemed interested, quirking his brows up, hazel eyes shimmering in the indiana humidity. “how much do you have?” he asked, nodding at your hand. you counted the coins in your hand. “i have one dollar. and i know you paid fifteen cents for that ice pop. i’ll give you the whole dollar for it.” he pondered your deal for a couple of seconds before saying, “nah, i’m good!” and walking around you, back toward his house. you turned around to chase him as as he walked toward his house. “please, steve! cherry is my favorite,” you begged, putting on your best pitiful face that always worked on your parents and stopping right in front of him. you watched as his face changed, and you thought you’d won. “oh cherry’s your favorite?” he asked. you nodded so vigorously that your summer dress waved in the muggy air. “tough luck,” he said before unwrapping the ice pop and taking a big bite in front of you. you stood there, mouth agape as he exaggeratedly enjoyed what should’ve been your ice pop, right in front of you no less! he licked his crimson-dyed mouth as he threw the barren popsicle stick into the garbage can in his driveway. “see you around, cherry,” he said as he walked up to his porch and slammed the door to his house.

that’s how you became cherry to steve and steve only. he annoyed you every day of your life with that stupid fucking nickname.

on your first day of freshman year, you popped into the entrance of hawkins high with robin, your best friend since middle school. steve saw you, whistled, and yelled down the hall, causing everyone to stare at you: “hey, sweet cherry! look at you, all grown up.” your excited face morphed into a fiery glare as you angrily walked past him, skirt swishing. his goons howled and cackled as you seethed, robin turning around to flip them off.

it wasn’t like the two of you fought every time you were around one another. okay, it totally was. but it was because he was such an insufferable dickhead and you were definitely not going to take his bullshit lying down.

he started dating nancy during your sophomore year, something you learned as you walked to his car in the morning, opening the door to the passenger side before his hand shot out to stop you. you rolled your eyebrows. “steve, i have a big history test today and i’m not in the mood for whatever the fuck you’re doing.” he rolled his eyes back at you. “we’re picking up my girlfriend,” he said, kicking at the loose gravel in his driveway. your eyebrows flew to the top of your forehead. “girlfriend?” your voice rising so high in pitch that it came out as a squeak. “and you haven’t managed to be an utter douche yet?” he rolled his eyes so hard you were afraid they'd get stuck there. “just get in the backseat, cherry,” he said as he slid into the car.

you looked at the smooth leather incredulously as steve adjusted his rearview mirror. you gingerly pushed your bag into the car, making sure your body touched the seat as little as possible. “i don’t even want to know what’s happened back here,” you said as you shuddered. steve caught your gaze in the mirror, a piece of gum popped in his mouth. “y’know, cherry, you’ve had many chances to find that out for yourself,” he said with a teasing lilt to his lips. you scrunched your nose in disgust and made a retching noise. “i’d rather drink a t-shirt through a straw,” you said in a huff. to your surprise, he actually laughed.

you hadn’t been paying attention, choosing to review your history notes one more time and so you didn’t realize you pulled up to the wheeler house. now, you were extra intrigued. steve honked twice and rolled down the window as nancy wheeler approached, giving her a kiss at which you gagged. he glared at you through the rearview mirror.

“nancy, you know cherry. my enemy,” he said as he pulled out of her driveway, a hand on the back of the passenger seat. you saw the veins and tendons in his arm flex under suntanned skin from a summer of lake days and pineapple sunscreen. nancy gave you a shy smile, which you returned. you also told her your real name and explained to her that for some reason, her dipshit boyfriend couldn’t let go of something that happened when you were kids. she laughed prettily at your words and a weird feeling settled on your chest, an unwelcome and quite frankly, bothersome weight. she returned to a gooey conversation with steve, letting you simmer uncomfortably in the backseat.

you blocked out their lovey-dovey-whatever-the-fuck with your flash cards.

you hated yourself for it, but when steve and nancy started falling apart, you were kind of glad. you’d actually gotten pretty close to nancy because of all the carpooling, often seeking one another out during your classes to giggle about something one of the basketball jocks said. so you hated yourself for your glee at seeing them leave separately at a halloween party. you didn’t even really understand why it felt like that intrusive weight had been lifted from your chest. you convinced yourself that you were just relieved that youur dear friend dumped that idiot.

at the moment, you were dressed up in your sluttiest costume, batting away gross high school boys who tried to woo you. you were dressed as a pixie: a form fitting, dark green dress, so short that the distressed skirt barely brushed the top of your thighs. you finished off your look with a cute pair of wings. you were just trying to enjoy the night with robin; the two of you made it a habit to people-watch at these things. well, because drunk people were funny and easy to make fun of. it’s not mean, it’s just the truth.

you saw steve walk in and immediately nudged robin to snort at his stupid risky business costume, but then he took his sunglasses off. and he saw you. and he looked you up and down over the edge of those stupid sunglasses. and he ran his stupid tongue over his stupid pretty mouth. and maybe it was the vodka running through you (cherry flavored of course), but god, in that moment, you just wanted him.

you shook yourself from your lustful stare and broke eye contact with him. he slipped his glasses back on and followed a very distressed looking nancy deeper into the party. again, probably the cherry vodka, but you didn’t seem to notice her coming your way. she called your name to get your attention and an easy smile made its way onto your face. “nance!” you giggled as you moved to squeeze her. she laughed at your tipsy self and made sure that you were okay before giving steve an unsure look and getting herself a drink. you were left with steve as he took off his sunglasses again, just to look you in the eye. you looked to your left, but robin was nowhere to be seen.

“you look good, cherry,” he said lowly, taking you in once again.

your breathing was a little uneven. “tha-thank you,” you said, looking at your green fingernails against the red of the solo cup in your suddenly clammy hands. he leaned one arm against the wall behind you, blocking your view of the kitchen.

“really good,” he said at a volume only you could hear. you shuddered as you felt blood rush to the surface of your cheeks, warming them to the touch. it was definitely the alcohol in your body because here you were, getting horny over steve fucking harrington. a) your enemy and b) the boyfriend of one of your friends. thank god said friend returned that instant, pulling steve away to dance, seemingly refreshed by a shot of tequila. you gave nancy's hand a squeeze before she left, mouthing the words “call me later” at her. you thought that something was off with her. obviously, she was still grieving barb’s death - something that she confided in you. but you had a feeling that there was more there.

sometimes, it’s scary how on the nose you are with things.

at least an hour ago, robin told you that she was going to walk home with vickie, a girl who was in marching band with her. you were a comfortable amount of tipsy: the kind of drunk where every blink feels like a new, warmly-tinted world. but not so drunk that you’d make catastrophic decisions.

you didn’t need alcohol to do that.

you decided that it was time to leave. you’d finally gotten bored of watching all the people you knew make a fool of themselves. you walked outside, past cups littered on the lawn and through the october chill, to see steve sitting in his car - alone. you furrowed your brow before crossing your arms to create a little warmth and walking over. you gently knocked on the driver’s side window, startling the boy. he had a vacant look in his red-rimmed eyes. steve rolled down the window before sighing out, “cherry, i’m really not in the mood to fight right now.”

now you had to know what happened.

“i’m not here to fight with you,” you said as you leaned in closer, “i saw you when i came out and just wanted to check in.” you said it so plainly, like it was an obvious truth and not a huge contradiction to the entirety of your relationship. steve felt like his lungs had started again. he rolled up the window before pushing open the passenger seat door. you’d just barely settled into the seat and closed the door before he said, “nance told me she doesn’t love me.” you turned to face him. “steve, she was super drunk-“ he looked at you with more raw emotion than you’d ever seen from him. “cherry.” he stopped you in the middle of your sentence. “i know that she meant it.” you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t know how to handle comforting the one person you’d hated for what felt like a lifetime.

you turned your whole body to face him before stretching across the console to give him an awkward hug. he went stiff in your grasp as you looped your arms around his shoulders. “what the hell are you-“ “shut up, dipshit,” you said, “i’m giving you a goddamn hug. just accept it. you can win her back, y’know? you can be sort of sweet, sometimes.” he actually relaxed at your words and pushed his cheek into the space between your collarbone and your neck. you felt him inhale against your skin and your flesh pebbled. he slowly wrapped his arms around you too, pulling you into him. you squeaked in surprise and he chuckled, the warmth and the vibrations of his low voice extended through your entire being. “thank you, cherry. needed this.” you hummed. “of course, steve. i don’t actually hate you, did you not know that?” you felt him shrug. “honestly? i couldn’t tell.” you threw your head back and laughed, the sound taking up the small amount of space in his car. as you stopped laughing, you noticed that you were almost on his lap, your hands moving to rest against his broad chest. his pretty pink pout inched closer toward yours. there was a fraction of an inch between the two of you. “steve,” you said softly into the air between you two, “we can’t. there’s still nance to think about. you haven’t actually broken up yet.” he shook his head, a hand coming to rest on your hip. you could feel the warmth of his hand through your flimsy skirt. “there’s no nance. there’s only you right now, cherry.”

when steve harrington kisses someone, he wants them to feel it. and he wants them to feel it everywhere.

you definitely did.

he pushed his silken lips to join yours, sending you into a spiral, body thrumming with feverish passion. his kiss was needy, as if you were a replacement for someone else but he just needed someone. but you didn’t care. because that wasn’t the craziest thing about this…entire experience. your arms had wound themselves around his neck, his arms around your waist, tugging you across the console.

of course, you tasted like cherries. steve groaned as he caught your bottom lip in his teeth, silently asking you to open your mouth for him. your little gasp allowed him to slip is tongue into your mouth; his big hands tugging you even more into his lap. he kissed you like it would be the last thing he ever did on this godforsaken earth. you clumsily crawled to his seat, planting yourself in his lap. you both laughed into the kiss, before melding your lips together once again. he kissed you breathless, watching as your lips shone with a mixture of his and your spit. he pulled you toward him to plant another passionate kiss on your mouth, before making his way down your neck. steve sucked little bruises into the column of your throat and savored the taste of your sweet soap. he left a vine of dark, blooming spots as you writhed and shivered on top of him. you pitched your hips over his, causing your clothed core to run over the ridge of his growing bulge. he kissed all the way down to your chest, running his hands up and down your sides, causing you to shiver. he bit down gently on the swell of your left breast, gently sliding his hand under the delicate strap of your dress, pulling down on the elastic to reveal your entire breast. you pushed your chest forward and he grunted out a laugh as he wrapped his pink pout around your stiffened, pert nub. you were throwing your head back to give him more access to your tits, lost in the pleasure, when suddenly his horn beeped — startling you both. you looked at him with your matching kiss-stung lips, your eyes wide. he was still breathing heavily.

you looked at the dark sparkle of steve’s eyes and the flush to the tips of his ears. you smiled down and leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his head. you stopped abruptly, smoothing down his collar in a calming motion. “is everything okay?” you asked delicately. even though your bodies were pressed together, you and steve couldn't have been further from one another. he ran a hand over his face and sighed. “i can’t do this cherry.” you gave him a small smile of pained understanding and slid off of his lap.

he put the car into drive.

the ride toward both of your houses was silent, save for the wind rushing past the window you opened. you’d needed to cool off after what had just occurred; you may have betrayed one of your friends by furiously making out with her boyfriend (who she thinks you hate) and you kissed steve harrington. the boy who gave you the dumbest nickname he could think of so he could use you as personal entertainment.

because that’s what he does. he uses people.

steve pulled up to your house, and as you moved to open your door, he gently took your wrist in his hold. you halted your movements, turning your head to look at him. “i just want you to know that this didn’t mean anything, cherry. it can't.” you felt as if your brain had plummeted to your feet. you blinked in shock. “what do you mean?” you asked, arms crossed in front of you, brows high. “that. in my car. it didn’t mean anything to me.” you were stunned. he kissed you first, and when you reciprocated, he reciprocated with even more fervor. you scoffed before exiting his car. “you’re never going to find ‘the one’ if you keep treating girls like shit, steve.” you slammed his car door, causing him to jump a little at the force. you trudged up the stairs to your porch as shameful tears burned at your waterline.

you heard the quiet rumble of his car as he waited for you to safely enter your home. your fingers trembled in the crisp fall air as you slipped through your door. he simply turned to go to his house. you could see the marks your teeth had left, lavender and garnet winding their way around his neck.

(and then he had the audacity to ignore you for almost an entire week.)

your parents were asleep as you padded up the carpeted stairs. you quietly shut the door to your room, running your hands over your face. there was a post it left atop the phone on your nightstand — a note from your mother. it said that you had a call from nancy and to make sure that you called her back. your still shaking hands picked up the phone, dialing the wheeler family’s number. your slightly drunken brain was all muddled, from both the alcohol and the memory of steve’s plush kisses seared into your skin. so muddled, in fact, that you’d barely remembered that it was past midnight. thankfully, it seemed that nancy was awaiting your call, picking up after only a few rings. you waited for her to say something, calling out her name gently to get her attention, closing your eyes as sobriety started to make your head ache.

”steve and i broke up.”

your eyes popped open in surprise. “what? why?” you spluttered, unsure how to support her. she seemed subtly different — distanced, even. “i don’t think i ever loved him,” she said. she sounded exhausted. “i’m so sorry nance,” you said, heart making a dull, incessant thudding in your ribcage. sure, on a technicality he’d been single, but now he was your friend’s ex. she sighed into the phone. you could picture her curling and uncurling the thick, coiled wire as she talked to you. “eh, it was for the better. he just used me to prove that he could get me, y’know? i don’t think he actually wanted me.” you didn’t say anything. of course you knew better. of course you knew that he did, in fact, actually love her. “what an asshole!” you said indignantly, “give me the word nance and i’ll climb into his room from mine and rock his shit.” her laugh trickled out of the tiny speaker, crackled but joyous. “you always make me feel better,” she said to you in earnest, “thank you. you’re just one of those people who would never hurt me. i’ll call you tomorrow.” your pulse seemed to fall out of your body. but you didn’t tell her that; she needed the you she knew, not the you who almost fucked her ex two seconds after they broke up. “of course, nance. i love you.” that’s what you settled on. you both bid one another good night and hung up the phone. you grabbed your stuffed teddy and curled around it, falling just on the line between consciousness and sleep.

you had a reputation of being a good babysitter so when claudia henderson calls, you pick up. dustin was one of your favorite kids in hawkins, constantly making you laugh with his quips and contagious smile. on that particular fall weekend morning (claudia had a wedding to go to), dustin was determined to see steve. he kept dragging out your name, pestering you with a whiny tone of voice. “please!” he said as you spread mustard on his sandwich at the kitchen counter. “absolutely not!” you sang, keeping up with your rhythmic smearing. dustin groaned and put his head on the counter like a toddler. he said something, but it was muffled by the granite surface. “come again?” you said with a small smile on your face at his antics. dustin raised his head, blowing curls away as they blocked his vision. “he’s just helping me look for dar— i mean, for mews. please?” you sighed at his pleas. you couldn’t deny that your heart clenched at the thought of the innocent boy and his missing cat. “fine,” you said, rinsing off the knife you’d been using and giving dustin his lunch. “but i’m not letting you out of my sight. i’m in charge. capiche?” he nodded and thanked you through his chewing, oblivious to the storm rampaging through your mind at the thought of seeing steve.

you’d been trudging through dry leaves for what felt like hours, but was probably more like 20 minutes. when you’d arrived at this shady meeting spot with dustin, steve spat out your name. you winced internally at the omission of the nickname you claimed to hate. “what’s she doing here, henderson?” he asked, with venom lacing his voice. as if you were the one to initiate a kiss, tell him that it meant nothing, and ignore you for no reason. he was giving dustin quite a look, one you took to mean that he didn’t want you there because of the kiss. what you didn’t know was that steve wanted you as far away as possible from the dangers of the upside down. but of course, you had no idea that steve and dustin had been through literal hell together. “i’m in charge of dustin for today, so i’m staying,” you said, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows in a challenge. “stubborn as always, cherry,” he said into the empty forest, not even bothering to look at you.

so, you spat back, “fuck you, harrington.”

“almost did, baby,” he said over his shoulder.

your mouth was agape. your vision turned white hot with rage at his immaturity. so you did what any rational person would do.

a crack rang out and spread throughout the wood. steve held his cheek where an imprint of your delicate hand was beginning to redden. your own hand stung from the force with which you slapped him, a tingle spreading through your palm. dustin looked on with shock in his big brown eyes. steve just turned toward the abandoned railroad track and began walking, rubbing his jaw.

the two of them were spreading meat all over the forest floor, and when you’d asked, dustin had given you some half-baked excuse. you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it, but you were so stressed out that you let it slide. you walked with your arms crossed to keep out the autumn bluster that permeated your cream-colored sweater. the red ribbon in your hair blew gently in the breeze, and steve thought about his hands embedded in your hair, his mouth on yours, you, in his car. in his bed, waking up to your face. he returned to the present when he heard you ask dustin about if he was sure "mews" was in this “creepy forest.”

you were looking at steve, too. he looked a little too good in his jeans and gray members only jacket. his hair was coiffed over as per usual, but you kept thinking about how you’d mussed it beyond repair the last time you saw him. you felt embarrassment and a little excitement rush to your cheeks as you tried to look anywhere but at him and his stupid, perfect face. and he had a bat with nails in it. why he took it with him to look for a cat, you didn’t know. but it was kind of hot.

he’s a dick, you quickly chastised yourself.

“dude, that’s not how you impress a girl,” you heard steve say. you were intrigued. you knew that dustin probably also told steve about his crush on max, and steve being just so good with girls was about to give him some advice.

“i don’t know. you’re trying way too hard,” steve continued.

dustin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “well, not everyone can have your perfect hair. alright?” he retorted.

steve rolled his eyes right back. “it’s not about the hair, man. the key with girls is just…just acting like you don’t care.”

you snorted at that, causing both of them to turn to look at you. steve narrowed his eyes as you challenged his words. “got something to add, cherry?” he said with that tone of voice that made you want to tackle him. a small smile made its way to your pretty lips. the same lips that steve couldn’t get himself to stop thinking about. “that’s not how you show a girl that you like her.” dustin was suddenly enraptured by your perspective. “what do i have to do? tell me!” the boy begged you. you laughed at his urgency. “show her that you do care. communicate with her. be clear about what you want with her,” you said with certainty, before continuing, “be kind to her. do something for her that you know she’ll like.” steve was silent. you thought he was upset by you stealing his thunder, but really, he was deep in thought. why was he thinking about you? why was he thinking about how he kept your favorite watermelon lip balm in his car (just in case you needed some. he definitely didn’t use it to see what you’d taste like)? why was he thinking of sneaking through your window to kiss you silly and wake up with his face in your neck, your hands on his back? why was he thinking of you, his cherry, instead of nancy? he blinked to clear his mind of thoughts of you, before grumbling something about the light disappearing.

on that day, you were supposed to be watching dustin. except for the fact that the child you were supposed to keep safe, was very much indeed, missing. you’d called him down for dinner over 15 minutes ago. he told you that he was going to do some homework after your excursion with steve. when no response came from his room, you’d searched the entire henderson household, frantically moving shower curtains and drapery aside. you almost gave up when you saw that the laundry room window was open, and you knew that your favorite little shit had gotten out. you went out into the living room to center yourself as you felt panic sink in. a loud crackle brought you out of your deep breathing. it was one of dustin’s extra walkie talkies on the coffee table. you grabbed it and fiddled with the dial until you heard small voices calling dustin’s name. “dustin! where are you? we’re almost at the junkyard.” a beep, another crackle. “almost there! it was tough to get out, guys. give me a break.” it was dustin. your mind went into protective mode as you shoved your feet into your converse and grabbed the walkie talkie. you rushed outside and took one of the spare bikes in the hendersons' garage before booking it to the old junkyard, the light sinking beneath the horizon and dusting the world around you in night.

when you arrived, you saw dustin and lucas (whom you knew), along with a redheaded girl and wait— steve? “dustin!” you yelled, worry evident in your voice. everyone’s heads whipped toward you, all four sets of eyes equally as wide. you marched toward the group, wading through the darkness and the heavy fog, fully prepared to drag dustin home. “cherry, you can’t be here,” steve said, taking a step toward you. “don’t tell me what to do, harrington. i mean nothing to you, remember?” steve didn’t know how to respond. his mouth moved as he reached for some way to tell you, no, cherry, honey. i can’t let you see this.

“i’m staying,” you said with finality. steve moved to protest again, but you both jumped at a rattling nearby. something growled and steve raised his bat. “cherry, take the kids and get in the bus,” he said, eyes flitting around — alert. “eat shit harring-” “cherry,” he said. he said that stupid nickname like he’d never said it before, urgently, tenderly, begging. you nodded breathing out a little “okay” as you herded the children toward the rusty vehicle. you all peered out as steve called to the creature, taunting it. lucas was looking through his binoculars when he gasped. “steve,” he screamed. “watch out!” steve kept his eyes trained on the monstrosity emerging from the fog. “a little busy here,” he said, licking his lips in anticipation of a fight. “three o’clock!” lucas yelled again. before you knew it, dustin was running toward the bus door, throwing it open, and calling steve’s name, and yelling “abort! abort!” you pulled dustin back in, hands trembling as you saw one of the creatures lunge at steve. he dodged successfully, rolling over the hood of a desolate car. another one launched itself at him and your heart seized in fear. luckily, he was fast enough to swing his bat at it; it landed with a half-whimper, half-growl. you realized that you were screaming now too.

“steve! hurry!” you cried, desperation tearing through in your voice. he was running now, running harder than ever now that he’d heard your sobs for him. he jumped in at the last second, just as you threw your arms out and shut the door. the creature’s body landed with a sickening thud against the door. more creatures gathered with the original, scratching at the door and shaking the bus. you scrambled to get the kids behind you as steve fortified the door. one broke through the door; everyone was yelling but you pushed the kids to the back of the bus as steve beat the monster with his bat. you joined him at the front, taking a nearby metal rod to help, knocking the beast to the ground, where it heaved weakly. one of its brethren saw your attack and charged at you. steve reacted in a heartbeat. he was on the monster in an instant, viciously hitting it with his bat. after a few more seconds, the creature made a shuddering move before laying still. the one previously attacking steve seemed to orient itself. it snarled, all dripping teeth and ragged growls, and threw itself at steve. he was unsuccessful, and to your horror, was about to go for steve’s throat. your name was caught on his tongue as he looked to you for comfort, for anything. and he saw it in your eyes. he saw everything you were afraid to tell him. but then, the monsters seemed to be enchanted by something, something you couldn’t perceive. they suddenly leaped out and off of the bus. relief flowed through your veins as you realized everyone was in tact. steve was in tact. you noticed that the two of you were smushed together as the kids regrouped next to you. you both pretended not to notice that steve’s arm was encircling your waist, rubbing at the sliver of skin that your top revealed.

“what the fuck was that steve?” you breathed out. you felt his chest rise beneath your back. “a demodog.” “a what?” he sucked in a breath, tensing underneath you, before launching into an explanation about all things upside down. at the end of his rant, you were quiet. “that’s why i didn’t want you here,” he said as if he weren’t sure you’d be listening. but you were; he held your attention fully. “i didn’t want you to have to see this.” you turned to face him, interlocking your fingers. “well, i’m sure as hell not leaving you now, harrington.” “as if you could ever stay away from me, cherry baby.”

oh, how right he was.

since steve had revealed the upside down to you, the two of you had been through a lot. more than the average enemies would go through together. he’d been beaten up by billy hargrove (someone you never particularly liked), and you’d sobbed over his bruised face, blood crusting in the little fissures left by billy’s knuckles. he’d woken up, dizzy and in pain to feel the wetness of your tears on his face. “i’m okay, cherry. look at me, hey? i’m fine,” he said, reaching up to put his palm on your cheek. he kept a secure hold on you as you traversed the complex tunnels, crushing you into his chest when he thought you two were about to die in a herd of inter-dimensional monsters. you’d both pulled away quickly, cheeks warm and clearing your throats nervously. surely enemies do that, right?

so now, steve was only more of a pain in your ass. especially since he made your heart flutter, since he made you perk up at just one whiff of rosemary and laundry detergent.

when starcourt mall opened up over the summer, robin got a summer job. the hendersons didn’t really need you as much this summer, and you already had a pretty good babysitting gig going with the waldens who lived on the other side of you. so in your spare time, you’d go visit your best friend.

the only issue was that steve pain-in-your-ass harrington worked with her.

sure, the free ice cream may be worth it, but was it really worth it to see him? especially after that halloween night. at the end of the day, you loved robin more and could shove the stinging thrill of seeing steve to the bottom of your stomach.

the only issue was that he looked too damn good in his dumb fucking sailor uniform. and you kept thinking about kissing him again.

both robin and steve were working today; you were perched behind the counter on a stool that robin had designated for you. though you’d tried to forget about "it" and him, you just couldn’t. yeah, you asked him to forget, but it seemed like he remembered it just as vividly as you did. the two of you tried to stay on opposite sides of the store, which was difficult considering that it was extremely small. and the area behind the counter just had to be narrow. he’d brush by your legs, causing your spine to stiffen and a sharp inhale to make its way down to your lungs. he’d grace you with a faint, “sorry, cherry.” you’d tuck your legs in closer to your seat. you wouldn’t — and couldn’t — look each other in the eye. robin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious, chattering away to you both. you’d noticed that the two of them were getting closer. you weren’t the type of person to tell your friends who they could and couldn’t be friends with, but robin knew that steve used to be your enemy. not used to be, you reminded yourself, he is my enemy.

it was one of the slower days that june — the morning of what would inevitably become the friday rush. the store was quiet, save for the hum of the freezer. you were enjoying your sample of cherry-almond swirl as robin checked the freezer one last time. “shit,” she muttered, sliding one of the frosted doors open. you cocked your head at her, spoon still in your mouth. robin turned to steve. “i have to go refill the cookies and cream. we accidentally put two chocolate chips in. be right back!” she was out the door before either you or steve could offer your help in the larger freezer in the back (aka avoid one another). the hum of the fluorescent lights was louder, grainier, invading your headspace. the edges of the plastic spoon now stung the sides of your mouth and the almond flavor left a bitterness on your tongue. you took the spoon out and chucked it into the “used spoons” cup, all the way from your little stool. “nice shot,” steve said, causing you to whip your head around to look at him, surprise sparking in your eyes at the sound of his voice. “thanks,” you said dryly. it was quiet for a beat before you took the initiative to speak again. “i don’t think i’ve ever told you, but i’m sorry about you and nance,” you said. he gave you a tight smile. “right,” he said, “you two are close.” you mirrored his smile. “yeah. i know you tried your best,” you said awkwardly. “thanks. i just don’t know if i’m meant to have her,” he said with melancholy weaving through his words. steve looked like he wanted to say something else. just as he opened his mouth, you both turned toward the door as you heard robin mumbling about how heavy the ice cream was. steve quickly turned toward you, “meet me behind the mall. after my shift. please?” you nodded slightly, suspicion clouding your eyes. he reached out to squeeze your hand, moving toward the register and giving the standard scoops ahoy greeting as the afternoon rush began.

steve had left scoops maybe fifteen minutes ago. you nibbled at your lip, another spoonful of cherry-almond swirl left a sweetness on your tongue. the coldness sitting in your mouth faded away as you checked the clock again. robin looked at you as you raised your eyes toward the clock again.

“go.”

“what?” you said, only half paying attention, lost in your thoughts about a certain boy’s freckles.

robin dragged out your name with a playful impatience.

“go.” you furrowed your brow as she plunged the scoops ahoy’s grey shag of a mop into soapy water. “dude, it’s okay. i’m getting a ride from my mom. i don’t know who this is about, but if you look at the clock one more time i’ll never give you my blessing to be with them,” she said as she slapped the mop on the tiled floor.

you looked at robin, still chewing your lip, plastic spoon in hand. “you sure, robbie?” she flashed you a toothy smile. “promise, cherry,” she said with a wink. “don’t you dare call me that, buckley,” you said as you tossed your spoon and pulled on your cardigan. she cackled as you swung open the door, turning left toward the parking lot. you made a sharp right through the food court to get to the back of the mall. through the smudgy, glassy exterior, you could see steve’s face illuminated by the lights in his BMW. you took a calming, deep breath as you pushed through the doors. steve’s windows were open; you could hear music coming out (you could swear that it was the talking heads). you smiled unconsciously at his choice. maybe somewhere along the line, in between dusty, rotting alternate dimensions and “placid” morning car rides, he’d listened when you blabbered on about your favorite band.

he heard you approaching and suddenly straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “hey, cherry,” he said breathily. “hi,” you said plainly, still suspicious about this whole meetup. “i just want to say that i’m sorry,” he said. you looked at him unimpressed; after all, he did have quite a few things to apologize for.

“for that night, at the halloween party.” you caught his eyes when your head snapped to your left, a wide, pained look mirrored in your own irises. your silence scared him — he’d expected more yelling. he deserved it. he huffed out a tiny sigh, before speaking again: “i missed you. i missed having you around because cherry, i don’t hate you. i really don’t. our little arguments or whatever? those were the best part of my day. and then they stopped because i fucked up.”

you smiled at that, and he mirrored it: the prettiest smile you’d ever seen. he laughed a little, “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you and how i missed the smell of your cinnamon gum in my car.” your eyes were softer now, glistening with something between a kind forgiveness and an inkling of playfulness. “and then we got thrown into the upside down and didn’t really get to talk about it since, y’know, we could’ve died at any moment? and then i found myself still missing you, because all that wildness wasn’t enough.”

you let the sentence hang in the air before telling him, “i missed you too, harrington.”

you’d barely noticed that you and steve were drifting closer and closer together. you felt little puffs from his plump lips brush over your own pout. “cherry-” he started. “steve,” you pleaded, hands spreading across his chest. he pulled back a little, grabbing your hand gently when he saw hurt flash over your features. “i just want you to know that i’m not looking for anything serious.”

oh. of course.

he sucked in a breath through his teeth as your face hardened into steely ire. “i really loved nancy. i can’t get over her that quickly.” you pulled your hand from his. “but cherry, i can’t stop thinking about you. and that night, god. i just keep thinking about what i would’ve done to you if we hadn’t stopped.”

something heavy settled in the pit of your stomach, the feeling making its way into your core.

“show me,” you said.

he smiled that harrington smile before slotting his lips against yours again — deeper, frenzied, hungry, like he wanted to pull the taste of cherry-almond swirl from your mouth.

(“show me,” you had said. what you really meant was, “i’ll take any part of you that i can get.”)

you felt him harden in his jeans, his cock pressing up against the rigid seams. he hissed as you trailed your hand down his chest, toward his bulge. you looked up at him, eyes glittering and so sinfully innocent. you pressed a kiss over where his arousal was evident and his eyes rolled back in his head. “cherry, baby, honey. i could cum in my pants if you touch me like that one more time.” you smiled at that, delicate hands palming him gently, kissing his neck a pretty sea of pinks and reds, and reaching toward his zipper. “jesus, fuck. cherry,” he rasped as he pulled your head off of him by the back of your pretty locks. your neck was craned back as you looked into his dark hazel eyes. “are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked with a taunting lilt to his throaty voice. you nodded. he smirked. “words, cherry.” “yes, i’ll be your good girl, steve,” you said, hands already wandering, mouth watering at the thought of his scent, his cock, anything — all over you. he tutted at your ministrations, pulling you off of him once again. “good girls listen to directions,” he said, lips twitching into a smirk.

“bad girls don’t get to cum.”

his hand that was holding your head had changed position, reaching to grasp your chin between his fingers, squishing your cheeks a little.

“do you think you’ve been a good girl, cherry?”

you mumbled out a soft “no” around the restriction of his fingers.

he kissed you after you answered, a soft, plush press of his lips against yours. you tilted your head forward to get more from his mouth, more from him. but he pulled away and you whined. “you’ve been bad, cherry. so now i’m gonna fuck that pretty mouth,” he growled as your thighs clenched. it didn’t go unnoticed, and steve was not-so-secretly proud of himself that he got you flustered. “and if you touch yourself, you will be punished. got it?” he said, cementing his rules in you. at the talk of punishment, steve sobered up for a second.

“what’s our safeword gonna be, princess?”

“starcourt?” you suggested. he smiled.

“perfect. now, if you let me fuck your mouth and use you as my little cocksleeve, maybe you can cum,” he said so sweetly, as if he needed to wrap you around his finger more. you suckled at his neck as you unzipped his jeans, tugging impatiently to get them off. your mouth watered at the thought of his cock; it was probably pretty and red and leaking — all for you. his boxers were next. his cock sprang out of the confines of his boxers, slapping the leaking tip onto his stomach. he exhaled as the cooler air of the car hit his shaft. he held out his palm to you as you admired his length. “spit,” he commanded. you tucked your hair behind your ears and did as he instructed. he took his hand and used your spit to slick up his member. you only just realized just how big it was, biting your lip nervously. he noticed, of course. “what’s wrong, angel?” he said, reaching toward you to rub your lower back gently. “is it gonna fit in my mouth?” you pouted. you wanted it to. like, really wanted it to. he glowed at your innocent question. “it will eventually, baby. maybe not today, but someday soon.” his words seemed to comfort you and you happily took over stroking his shaft with your spit. he threw his head back against the headrest. “fuck, cherry. s’much better than i imagined. so much better.” now it was your turn to glow, thinking about steve fucking his fist in the shower, in his bed, to the thought of you, his childhood enemy. your body felt warm all over and so you took a leap, sponging an experimental peck onto his reddened tip. his hips jolted forward at your touch, causing your eyes to widen and you to pull back. “shit. sorry, honey. just can’t get enough of you,” he said with a gentle stroke to your head. “s’okay, stevie,” you replied sweetly, “wanna make you feel good.” you then bravely dove forward and slotted your mouth over his cock, swirling your tongue around the head and gagging as you took as much of him as you could. his eyes rolled back into his head and he threaded his fingers through your hair. “holy shit, cherry,” he said, “so good. so wet, so warm f’me.” once you figured out how to breathe through your nose, you slowly started bobbing your head up and down. you hollowed out your cheeks, stroking what couldn’t fit in your mouth (yet). on one of your little moves, your teeth grazed the underside of his cock, where a vein bulged. he hissed and you felt more precum spurt from his tip. you ran your tongue over it to soothe the sting your teeth left, worried that you’d made a mistake. but the unmistakable “fuck, just like that, cherry” from above you was enough to reassure you.

you pulled off for a breather, pressing wet, sloppy kisses up and down his length as you recovered. he was just about to ask if you were okay before you took initiative again, taking him further down your throat this time. he gasped and moaned and whimpered and you were in heaven. you were surrounded by him: his musk, his heavy balls gently held in your hands, the hard muscle of his thick, hairy thighs trapping your head. “can i hold your head, angel?” he asked you, ever so gently. you nodded while keeping yourself latched onto his cock, the heavy weight on your tongue oddly comforting. he gently grasped the back of your hair in one hand before thrusting his hips into your mouth, feeding his cock into your warm, wanton mouth. you gagged a little in surprise, but steve held your hair tighter and told you to just relax your throat. at his words, you did (well, you tried with a little whine), and he slipped in further. the spit that had gathered at the corners of your lips started to spill over as you attempted to take him all the way. you hadn’t expected yourself to be getting this wet over him getting off, but here you were, making a mess of your cotton panties as you sputtered choked, eyes glossy from tears. your throbbing pussy was visible through the sheerness of the fabric that your wetness had left. you pressed your thighs together to garner some relief for your poor pulsating cunt, but you remembered that if you were good, you’d get to cum too.

steve was thrusting into your mouth now, enraptured by the warmth of your wet tongue and swollen lips — the same mouth that he dreamed about kissing almost every night. he moaned above you at the sight of your spit-slicked lips, how your eyes were wide and dumb as he fucked your throat. "holy shit, cherry. my perfect little slut, such a good little whore f'me," he panted. you locked eyes with steve as his dick rapidly plunged in and out of your tight throat and at your heated gaze, he was cumming. hot, salty ropes hit the back of your throat. you made a little noise of satisfaction, humming around his shaft as your mouth filled with his seed. steve shot one last load into your mouth, groaning out your name — your real name — and collapsing, almost boneless in his seat. you pulled your mouth off of him, swallowing his load and giving the still-flushed head a soft kiss. he tasted salty and woody. you felt syrupy slick rush out of your fluttering hole at the taste left on your tongue. he ran a hand through his hair, cheeks red, still breathing heavily. “open your mouth,” he said, looking at you and tapping your cheek lightly. you did as he asked and stuck out your tongue for good measure. he gave a pleased hum when he saw your tongue dart out to lick a little bit of his seed that was left on the corner of your mouth. “good girl. you swallowed,” he said. you burned at his praise. "thank you, stevie," you said shyly. he bent down to sprinkle kisses across your face.

your cheeks glowed with arousal as his hand gently gripped the back of your neck, casually keeping you in the palm of his hand. he slanted his mouth over yours, swiping his tongue over your own and hummed when he tasted a remnant of himself in your waiting mouth. you smiled into the kiss, the vibrations tickling your pretty pout. he pulled back, his eyes and lips shining. suddenly he was pushing a hand through his hair and checking himself out in his rearview mirror. you looked at him, mouth pursed in confusion and discomfort at the pressure between your legs. “steve,” you whined. “what’s up, cherry baby?” he said as he gently buckled you in. “don’t i get to cum? i was so good,” you begged, grabbing his bicep between his smaller palms. the polyester of his scoops uniform shifted under your pawing hands as he extended his arm behind your headrest, tendons flexing as he reversed out of the parking lot.

“you were a good girl, but only after you had my cock in your mouth.”

so that was it? he wasn’t going to get you to your release? your mouth fell agape and you detached yourself from the boy, sliding back in your seat and watching hawkins speed by.

suddenly, you were pulling up to your house. your parents had left the foyer light on, keeping the entryway to your house bathed in its soft brilliance. it felt like déjà vu; you, flustered and exiting steve’s car after he’s been an asshole to you — yet again.

you resolved to never see him again as you cursed yourself for thinking he’d changed. but this time, he gently tugged you to him, saying your name quietly, and lifting your chin up to tilt your precious face toward his. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, one that filled the small space of his car with your deep inhale. you decided that this was your favorite kiss with him that you’d ever had. you looked at him with little hearts in your eyes as he smoothed your wildly messy hair back. he smiled at you, gently purring “don’t you dare touch yourself tonight.” you opened your mouth defiantly at his orders. he shushed you with a quick kiss to the corner of your lips that left you wanting more. “i’ll know if you do,” he said with a wink.

and you knew that you’d definitely be seeing him again.

you did cum that next day. three times to be exact; once on his fingers, once in his mouth, and once on his cock. he’d looked up at you from between your quivering thighs, asking you if he'd made it up to you. you nodded blearily, desperate to get his tongue on your hot core once again.

but whatever summer love, saying “us” moments you had, had very quickly become much deeper. you knew you were in deep shit when you realized you two were playing house after a sleepover at steve’s. you’d walked downstairs to see him swaying gently, nursing a cup of coffee in his boxers. you were wearing one of his old basketball t-shirts: sun-faded and soft and steve. he gave you a lazy smile as he dropped a kiss on your mouth, tasting of the vanilla creamer he swore he kept around “just for you, cherry. that shit’s disgusting.” you wrapped your arms around him; he sighed against your mouth as your fingertips began to rub his lower back with such care, such sweetness. “morning, stevie,” you said through a delicate yawn. ““mm mornin’ cherry,” he said, dipping down to leave a smattering of kisses across your neck and clavicle as you held each other in the sun-soaked kitchen. you silently wished to yourself that the two of you would stay like this, preserved in a memory forever. that you wouldn’t have to return to the world where you “hated” each other. that you could live together in a house of your own, with your own rich coffee scent filling the ground floor, without the upside down. your eyes snapped open at your wandering thoughts. no, you told yourself, it's steve. of course he ate you out on the kitchen floor before bending you over the counter. and of course, in the afterglow as you laid atop the cool tile, you just had to realize that you loved steve harrington.

“always so good f’me,” he rumbled, tracing his blunt nails on your back, raising goosebumps on his path. you looked into his cinnamon eyes, absorbing the ring of mossy green around his irises.

“anything for you, stevie,” you cooed, putting a veil of satin over your voice to mask the churning of your emotions.

“careful, cherry. i might start thinking that you’ve got a crush on me.”

oh, he had no idea.

© ker0senebunny. all rights reserved. all original posts of writing are my own words, with the exceptions of quotations from songs, movies, and other media. my work is NOT to be crossposted to another platform, copied by anyone, or translated without my express and explicit permission.

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[monsteronth3hill]

Get yourself a coffee or tea babes…this is going to be a long one.

Don’t get me wrong…Sharon Carter is so much more than a love interest for Steve, and the whole “cap virgin” shaming in She-Hulk is really gross to me for several reasons.

HOWEVER…the fact that Sharon wasn’t even presented as an option or mentioned by either Bruce or Jen in relation to Steve is infuriating to me, because it just goes to show that Marvel is actively burying her character and original place in the MCU.

Let’s be clear, I know this sounds hypocritical; I would probably be pissed if she was mentioned as a potential “conquest” for Cap because

A.) Knowing marvel, she would probably be made into the butt of a joke and

B.) Again, Sharon is more than just a love interest!!

BUT it just irks me endlessly that once again, Sharon is being erased from Steve’s story in favor of Pe*gy. For anyone wondering why I’m dragging Granny’s old dusty ass into this, just watch the She-Hulk credits. There is an illustration where Jen is presenting potential sexual partners that Steve might’ve had, and there’s a big picture of Pe*gy on her board.

I guess you could argue that the top right picture is supposed to be Sharon, but like…they didn’t even give her a face, when both of the other women have clear features. And if that IS the case……genuinely wtf. Are you so scared of tarnishing the oh-so precious Steggy that you can’t even show Pe*gy and Sharon in the same context?

And you can’t say “Well, no one knew about Sharon and Cap’s kiss, so how would Jen and Bruce even know about her?” because at this point, everyone in the MCU just magically knows everything about everyone because: writing (Was the battle against Thanos televised?! Somehow Carol and the Guardians have entire fandoms despite never publicly being superheroes?? Did Stephen go public with his decision to give up the time stone?).

This whole post is probably pointless, and I’m sure some will see it as a reach. But I’m tired of the MCU retroactively shitting on Sharon to prop up another character, and I’m just tired of the MCU in general. I think we need a break tbh.

Bonus: Tbh, I’m surprised (and grateful) that the She-Hulk writers didn’t have Bruce admit Steve somehow magically did have sex with Pe*gy in the main timeline in a blatant attempt to legitimize that crappy ship…because let’s be real, they would totally do that.

Bonus Bonus: what the fuck is Steve’s status in the MCU? Is he dead? Is he faking his death? Not that I want Endgame “Steve” to come back anytime soon, but the murkiness of his current whereabouts are very annoying as a viewer. She-Hulk and Spider-Man: FFH confirm that he is dead (at least to the public), whereas TFATWS sullied the waters and cast doubt on that?

[worldswithoutendings]

Killing Loneliness with you [Eddie Munson}

Vampire!Eddie x Hunter!Female

Summary: After the earthquake in Hawkins stopped your team decided to look into the upside down, and see if you could save people, only not knowing that the upside down had a darker intention than you guys think

You had geared up on knives, metal bullets, and your favorite gun. Your mind went through every scenario you could possibly think of. How disgusting the place would be, how many dead people would be there, how many dead animals would be there but the thought that crossed your mind was what if someone is still alive down there.

When the word came out that you guys were going to the upside-down Steve and everyone else who tried to fight Vecna immediately barged into the trailer where you normally have meetings. Frustrated faces and lots of voice raising happened, how immature you were even though you are just as old as Robin “you don’t know what it’s like down there!” Dustin yelled, still heartbroken about Eddie “then.. make us a map” the leader, Mark said.

So, Dustin made a dark red map, with lots of comments about how disgusting the upside down is. And a dark, crossed-out spot. Where, if Dustin is correct, the most traumatic experience of his life happened, Eddie was supposed to still be there.

He held your wrist tightly as you guys were preparing “Dustin you’re hurting me” “just, just take him home okay, so-so we can have a-a funeral y-you know” he started to ramble over his words, probably because he started to realize that, when you succeeded in bringing him back, he would officially be gone “I know Dustin, don’t worry we’ll be careful with him” you got yourself out of his grasp and went with your hand through his hair as you saw how red his eyes were getting “okay, time to go” Mike said and you crawled through the open portal.

Dustin wasn’t wrong about the smell, it was a heavy ammonia smell. Lots of wet sounds and dying creatures. So you followed the route on the map to figure out where there would still be people and hopefully still be alive.

“Okay, so, this is where that Munson boy is supposed to be right?” Lexi said as she was far from the group but you still could communicate “yeah apparently” you say as you scan the map quick “he’s supposed to be.. right.. there” you point without looking in the direction. But as you look up from the map you only see the dead bats that Dustin was talking about “well, or not” you now also know why Dustin crossed it out so many times, it looked vile, dried blood, rotting bats, and it looked like someone vomited out black goo “guess we have to disappoint Dustin” You say to Lexi “yeah or that dude is just roaming around here” “don’t think he would if we have to believe Dustin, that dude is dead” you say as you roll up the map and take some samples to bring to the lab for your crazy friend who loves to look at certain DNA.

The group finally arrived at the stairs, where Vecna used to be stationed and you saw the decaying bodies, except one was missing “guys, we’re missing Chrissy Cunningham's body” you hear Mike say and he was correct, there were supposed to be 3 victims, Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, and Patrick Mckinney, but only Fred and Patrick were stuck, but their bodies were still intact and not in their decaying stage, you felt for their pulses but there was no heartbeat “that’s so fucking weird” you mumble but in the distance you see a moving body. Signaling the team to be quiet.

You slowly walk down, behind a huge rock you saw a foot, lifelessly. The moment you walked towards the foot it sounded like you could hear a neck break. You signaled Mike to stand behind you as you got your gun ready. but everything you imagined went out of the window when you walked around the rock.

Eddie sat there, with Chrissy in his arms, while he was busy with her neck. You felt uncomfortable thinking you were interrupting. Until you saw blood, blood from his mouth, blood from Chrissy’s neck “wtf dude” Mike whispered and Eddie looked up within seconds, scaring you and you tried to get back in position. His eyes were black, his mouth was bloody, the bandana he was wearing was still tight around his hair, but his hellfire shirt was soaked with blood and the black goo you saw at the place he died “Eddie?” you whisper, not trying to sound scared. You hadn’t seen vampires in a while, at least. If that’s what Eddie is “Let Chrissy go man” Mike says “she’s already dead-“ “-no!” Eddie said, his voice sounding distorted. Without thinking you shot him in his shoulder “y/n!” Lexi yelled from behind the rock and came running, but you signaled her to stop when Eddie let out a curdling scream when he realized what was going on.

His eyes changed back to his original color, and his shoulders were hunched down as he saw Chrissy “shit, Chrissy! Fuck! What happened!” He yells “Eddie, we don’t mean to upset you or anything but-“ “-you were supposed to be dead” you mumble “you were supposed to be dead, Dustin left you here because he was scared, but he saw it with his own eyes, he came back traumatized, you were attacked by demo bats, just like Chrissy you’re supposed to be dead!” Mike yells.

Your gun was still pointed at Eddie as he shook his head “no man, I’m alive” “do you have a heartbeat?” you whisper and he falls silent “do you Eddie Munson!?” you yelled. You started to feel bad for Dustin, you didn’t know how he would react if you would tell him the truth, that his best friend, the person he looked up to the most wasn’t dead, but a vampire. A freaking vampire. The people you used to hunt with your family. You know that there were supernatural humans in Hawkins because Hawkins was always weird. It was never normal. But now, with this, the upside down. It played with your head.

Eddie felt his neck, his chest, his wrist and he shook his head as his eyes fill with tears “that’s what I thought” “y/n, enough!” “and then what?! We can’t bring him back to Hawkins, where do we need to hide him hm!? The old hideout is destroyed because of the earthquake! And I’m supposed to kill him!” you yell, Mike places his hand on your shoulder “earthquake? Kill me? Hideout? What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie started to sound scared and you sigh as you put your gun down

“you know how I used to not be able to hang out on the weekends because of family trips? We’re hunters Eddie, but not any kind of hunters. Vampires, werewolves, hybrids, they are all around Hawkins, and we used to hunt them on the weekends, my family has been doing it ever since they came to Hawkins, for more than 400 years” you sigh and Eddie shakes his head, not knowing this part of you.

You used to hang out with Eddie at school, as you both are the same age. You knew you could be yourself around him but you never told him about your family, or what you did on the weekends. You always said that you were either at your grandma’s or your aunts’ house during the weekend because of your big family.

But this scared you, never in your life had you seen someone close to you be the victim of supernatural creatures because you always quickly got rid of it. so you also wanted to put the blame on yourself, for not being there when they were fighting Vecna. You could’ve saved Eddie, you could’ve saved every one.

“shit man, like, can I still do human things?” “I have to ehm, trash my father's collection for that, I know that there is a moonlight ring, that protects you from sunlight so you won’t ehm, burn. You know? And you can not wear anything silver. Bu-“ you stop in your tracks. Are you really gonna save Eddie Munson?

Quickly enough you see Isaac rush to the rock “what the fuck!? You’re talking with a fucking vampire that’s against the rules y/n’ he screams as he sees the scene, you’re kneeled down pretty close to Eddie, while Chrissy lays bloodily next to him. Mark is pacing back and forth and Lexi is holding her hunter necklace close to her but keeping a safe distance. Isaac points his gun towards Eddie but you cover him “Isaac listen!-‘ “don’t fucking protect him y/n!” He screams. You get your gun back out and focus it on Isaac “wtf y/n!” the team yelled “for Dustin” you whisper and Eddie stays behind you.

The team left you and Eddie behind, taking the bodies with them and you decided to just try and have a normal conversation with Eddie “i can try and search for the ring, come back and take you to Hawkins, or we can search for a place for you outside of Hawkins and we can schedule meetings for Dustin to meet you and eventually your uncle maybe” “shit, how is he” he whispers “he’s… he’s going through it Eddie” you whisper and he puts his head in his hands “but, my family is kinda like a safe haven for everybody, Dustin has been staying for a long time. Wayne comes for dinner. Just making sure they don’t go crazy” you whisper as you both stand up “thanks y/n I owe you” “don’t worry Eddie” you touch his shoulder shortly and he flinches “but, won’t your family go after me?” “I’ll protect you, I have some.. friends who are witches maybe they can protect you as well” “this day just got weirder and weirder” “weird!? Dude, you’re a fucking vampire and you think it’s weird that I know about the supernatural word?!” you say shocked making him snort.

You and Eddie decided to get him out of Hawkins, you found your friends to make a protection spell over him even tho it was hard, him being a vampire. So you found him a little house that was abandoned, you’re human brain wanted it to make it cozy for him even though he needed nothing but blood and something to kill the time “no but, music. I’ll get my tapes and you can constantly listen to music, maybe get some hot girls over and you can go all ouutt” you say as you clean up his living room which was a mess. Because of course, Eddie is still a man so he’s okay with everything “yeah sure, damn i was Wayne was here” “maybe, someday, when you can control yourself” you whisper and he nods.

Eddie updated you every few days, calling you about how he is feeling if he fed, and how he is enjoying his house. The people from Hawkins were actually at your house as your mother wanted to host a party “y/n! that weird dude that wants to talk to you every other week is calling!” your little sister yells and Dustin and Wayne look up “but that person has been contacting you since you came back from the upside down” Dustin says “yeah, we met him afterward” you say as you walk towards the phone “hey hey” you answer “y/n? listen, I think I may have ehm, fucked up a bit?” “shit, what happened?” you whisper and turn yourself away from the group “well, ehm, I was actually really hungry, like, like almost like first time hungry you know and them ehm, there were some girls, who actually passed my house and-“ “-fuck Eddie, did you lash out?” you whisper but you feel a body close to you “Eddie? Did you just say, Eddie?!” Dustin says “what no?” you said and Eddie stayed quiet. You looked at Mike to get him off of you “so are we gonna make a new d&d club?” Mike says and Dustin runs back.

You tried to sneak out of the house to get to your car and drive to Eddie “y/n! where are you going?’ Dustin screams after you as you are both outside “shit Dustin! I’m going to a friend” “we’re the only friends you have!” “shut up!” you whisper as you get into the car “I’m joining you” “Dustin no you can’t come” “yes I am, otherwise I’ll get Steve” “no don’t get- shit, fuck.” You say and hit the steering wheel “you have been awfully suspicious, you do know that right” “I know, but you really can’t come with” you say, hoping to get him out of the car but, knowing Dustin. He doesn’t budge. So you start the engine with your heart beating in your throat.

You get to Eddie’s house “what spooky shit it this” Dustin says “Dustin, we need to set some rules okay. You will not leave this car until i get you okay? You. Can. Not. Move. And everything that happens here. Stays here every fucking. Little. Secret” you say while you point in his face and he just nods. You jump out of the car to get into Eddie’s place and you see him sit in the living room with 2 dead girls next to him “oh Eddie” you whisper “I’m sorry” he cries out “it’s okay, don’t worry, at least you kept it clean” you kiss his head as he just looks at his hands “I’m a monster” he whispers “okay, I’m gonna move the bodies, we will light it on fire after, we took care of something else” you say as you grab one dead body “damn, you’re really strong hm” he looks in awe and you roll your eyes.

After you took the bodies to the backyard and put a tarp over them you came back inside “what was the other thing you talked about” Eddie says “yeah, about that” you sigh “Dustin is in the car” “WHAT!?” Eddie screams “he is?! Why!?” “he wouldn’t leave! He was so freaking stubborn!” “if he knows who I am he’s gonna turn Hawkins upside down” “I already, kind of, threatened him” he smiles at your comment “okay, get him” he lifts his shoulder “are you okay tho?” you ask and he nods “just, really quick” you whisper and you hug him, for the first time ever since he turned “wow” he whispers and you run out of the house “shit” Eddie whispers.

[jewishbarbies]

Genuine question, why don't you like Tony Stark? Not trying to be rude, just genuinely curious and wanting another perspective.

just a quick note: what i’m saying below is directed at tonky, not at you, this is just me expressing my disgust for the character and not meant to be taken personally by anyone. also, if you’d like sources and visual rep for my claims, watch this video i put together here.

both mcu AND comics tony stark are arrogant, selfish, war profiteering assholes who benefit from and take no responsibility for the deaths of a LOT of people (comics tony is even to blame for the deaths of heroes during civil war, including almost spider-man), and my “#anti tony stark” tag has a lot of posts from other people who explain a lot of my points in depth, if you’d like more info on certain specifics.

[i’m making a list and checking it twice below the cut because this list is LONG]

tony inherited his father’s company at 21 (old enough and -canonically- smart enough to know better already) and immediately started IMPROVING the weapons, yet claimed later he somehow didn’t know “what the weapons were capable of in the wrong hands” (still maintaining that the us military is somehow the “right hands” for his weapons) and that he “shut it down, stopped manufacturing” even though he continued to build the iron man suit, the iron legion, pepper’s suit, rhodey’s suit, a suit for peter, and also ULTRON. so, he’s a hypocrite and liar of monstrous proportions.

he claimed howard being apart of the manhattan project was being a “hero”, agreed with howard when he said peace was “having a bigger stick than the other guy”, and claimed that the best weapon was the one you “only have to fire once”, all while arab people referred to him as “the merchant of death” and claimed whoever owned stark tech “controlled the middle east”. his “come to jesus” moment was when his weapons finally effected him personally.

he blackmailed A CHILD into a war/fight he had no real knowledge of (peter says all tony told him was that steve would say he was in the right even though they were wrong, which is shady and irresponsible af) by taking advantage of his position of power/influence and involved the child without telling his legal guardian and then left the child in the hands of his driver?? assistant?? whatever tf happy is at this point and STILL didn’t tell his legal guardian. he then gave said child weapons of mass destruction when the child had NO training whatsoever, then admonished the child when the child misused them, and never took responsibility.

he has consistently sexually harassed multiple women, including while he was officially dating pepper. treating natasha like a piece of meat? googling sexual photos of her alias when he’d JUST met her? saying “I want one’? pepper had to remind him he could face a “very expensive sexual harassment lawsuit” and he still didn’t stop because he didn’t care. he couldn’t give a straight answer to any of christine everhart’s questions when being interviewed because he was too busy trying to get into her pants. he even asked happy “is she hot?” and only turned around when happy nodded yes, so he wasn’t going to speak to her or even LOOK in her direction until it was confirmed that she was sexually attractive enough. he sexual objectified aunt may as well (IN FRONT OF AND TO PETER WTF) multiple times in a single interaction.

tony literally told steve he was fighting for the accords because he wanted his girlfriend back. enough said. but on a much more real note, he used the death of (1) AMERICAN teen killed by ultron to justify the accords because “we need to be put in check” when the direct cause for ultron was tony and bruce, bruce of which being the only person who felt remorse and expressed regret. meanwhile tony was barking at the avengers that they didn’t “get why they needed [ultron]”. funny enough, tony admits later that ultron was his fault during civil war. “and then ultron. my fault.” of course, he’s saying this while trying to convince steve to sign, and explaining he wants the accords to “split the difference” and convince his girlfriend to take him back.

he put his “best friend” rhodey in very real danger by making a transphobic joke at his expense IN FRONT OF OTHER SOLDIERS during “don’t ask don’t tell”. i really shouldn’t have to say more here. and the fact that rdj improvised that? gtfo. he also made a sexist AND transphobic joke or two about a female soldier when in transit before the convoy is attacked, claiming he “couldn’t tell” she was a woman. i don’t have a link for it but it’s in the first like 10-20 minutes of iron man 1.

his nicknames for everyone he interacts with are insensitive and often target the person’s trauma (ie. “manchurian canidate” for bucky, fucking “capsicle” for steve???) and made comments like “they should have left him in the ice” during avengers when steve had been thawed out (1) movie prior. his “everything special about you came out of a bottle” line, propping himself up with “billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” as if that means anything to anyone present. constantly trying to FORCE bruce to let out the hulk with no regard to anyone’s safety, much less bruce’s.

he claims he hates his father and never once mentioned his mother in any way, and the stans claim howard was an abusive dad, making literally thousands of fics about his “abuse”, and then tony is somehow upset that his father was murdered by bucky, when the nickname HE GAVE BUCKY is because bucky was being used against his will and tony knew that before bucky had ever escaped custody. he had full prior knowledge of this AND that it was hydra that was controlling bucky, yet continued to attempt to outright murder both bucky AND captain fucking america and then demanded the shield from steve because howard made it (for steve so...wtf) because steve “didn’t deserve it”. make it make sense.

he shot sam wilson nearly point blank in the chest after rhodey was shot out of the sky by HIS OWN TEAM and sam dove to help, but was too late.

stark weapons killed wanda’s and pietro’s parents, driving them to join hydra in order to get back at him, and tony calls her a “weapon of mass destruction” and keeps her under forced house arrest “to protect her” loooong after the twins joined the “good side”. then when she was arrested, wanda was put in a straight jacket and electric collar in a cell in the raft.

HE INTENTIONALLY REVEALED CLINT’S SECRET FAMILY TO THE GOVERNMENT ACTIVELY HUNTING CLINT’S ALLIES, FORCING CLINT TO MAKE A DEAL WITH THE GOVERNMENT IN ORDER TO KEEP THEM SAFE. TONY DID THIS UNPROMPTED. UNPROVOKED. THERE WAS NO REASON FOR THIS.

tony refused to help when asked after the snap because he had what he wanted and the billions of other families with missing people weren’t worth his (1) child, when he wouldn’t even have to change that, just use the stones to bring all the missing people back. his wife had to CONVINCE him to help. when he gets off the plane he says “I lost the kid” (a kid that wasn’t his and was only involved BECAUSE of him) and steve says “WE lost...”. in conclusion, selfish prick.

these are all the main reasons i can think of right now.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content. 

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses. 

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.” 

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.” 

[deepenthevoid]

First running review of watching stranger things for the first time:

Episode 1.

-NO FLASH WARNING????

-typical terrified doctor running away from mysterious force in a darkly lit building. I bet it’s gonna be some supernatural monster. He’s def gonna die. It is gonna pan out to a happy friends/family thing next or a police office? PO might be too much CM to lol…

-NOT THE ELEVATOR YOU DUMMY

-istg if these lights flick off one by one or turn off and turn back on to a monster who runs to him….

-yep. toldja not to use the elevator. Dr is dead. Stupid. It was in fact a monster. Idk what. Is this the demigorgon everyone talks abt? I thought those were tall? It wasn’t shown but on the roof of the elevator? Unless the elevator is absurdly tall why the the doctor completely disappear?

-panned out to a water spigot thingie. What??

-panned out to friends telling each other a scary story. Cute. 🫶🏼 the Curly haired kid. I forgot his name. Devin? Dustin! He’s a cutie I wanna pinch his cheeks and give him a lollipop and pat his head. He would be a cute lil bro. Nerd.

-foreshadowing. It’s a demOgorgon. (The monster attacking the doctor.) (how did a demogoron come to earth??? Manifestation???)

-NANCY IS MIKES OLDER SISTER??? WHAT.

-mikes mom is a milf. Omg. I want in on that.

-Ayo. AYO. THE DEMOGORGON GOT HIM. AYO NOT THE FORESHADOWING. SAVE WILLBYLER. #SAVEWILL WTF????????

-the music is good. I love the cinematic of the bike lights. Nicely done.

-BAHAHA DUSTIN.

-what the fuck is this boy doing?? Doesn’t he know to his friends house?

-THE FUCK IS THAT???? Nah bro this is like Damon on TVD wtf. RUN WHAT IS THAT. EEEEEEK FUCK OUTTA HERE WHAT

-nope. Nope. I don’t fuck w that. RUN LIL BOY.

-I don’t think I can watch this

-COMEDIC RELIEF WOULD BE GOOD RN

-SOMEONE OPEN THE DAMN DOOR AND DONT LET IT BE THE DEMOGORGON

-WHY IS IT HUNTING THIS LIL BOY?? WHY WILL??

-sacrifice the loud dog and run. GOOD BOY.

-idk how but I just KNOW it’ll be behind him. I bet he’ll drop the gun.

-I’m trembling. It’s paused. These directors are gooooood. Or maybe I’m just a sissy.

-I KNEW IT.

-WHERED HE GO TF? QUIT HIDING THIS SHIT WTF

-DONT SMOKE IN THE HOUSE DAD ITLL TURN UR CEILINGS BLACK AND THE WHOLE HOUSE WILL SMELL BAD! BAD!!!!

-acab but damn his butt is huge I wanna bite it

-intrusive thoughts. Goddamn. I don’t even know his name. War criminal demogorgon destroyer prison escapee guy

-don’t get onto your son when he’s trying to help out. Idk who he is but he’s a good kid. You’re pissing me off and it’s the first episode, ms byler.

-no bike locks? Whew. Those r the safe old towns I guess. Old days.

-is that young Tom holland?

-Tom holland wannabe I better not hear a racially motivated statement coming from you…

-at least it wasn’t racially motivated. Sorry Dustin.

-bullying is never okay. Sic the demogorgon on them.

-I just KNOW Nancy acts like hermione. Goody twoshoes but outside of society just a fuckin badass rockstar.

-god I love redheads. Her body is to die for. Gorgeous person. Wow. Idk u yet but I’m just in awe.

-um EXCUSE ME??? NANCYS HANDS?? I FUCKING LOVE WOMEN OH YM GOD.

-Steve move out of the way I’m imagining Nancy is in love with me.

-YES MAAM SET THOSE BOUNDARIES.

-ok Steve looks pretty sharp in those clothes…

-Alexa play djo…

-who the fuck is Lonnie? Good on her to know her sons sexuality. Bad on her to use it as an insult or something to be ashamed of. No wonder will is quiet and reserved. This actor is good. How old is he in this episode? I’m proud of you, Noah schnapp. You’re an amazing actor even at this age. Incredible.

-hopper and miss thang have a history??

-notes from my knowledge of s4: THEYRE NOT TOGETHER?? IM SO FUCKIN CONFUSED???

-LONNIES A MAN???

-ohhhh Lonnie’s probably wills dad. Nothing to do w this huh??… maybe Lonnie is behind the lore of why will is connected to the underworld or the other world or the nether portal idk what it’s fuckin called the uk or whatever

-dr Brenner huh? What is this, the hulk?

-…that’s banner. Shut up, marvel fans.

-IS THAT PAPA???

-send in the mf swat team not a bunch of fuckin doctors wtf??

-ngl the kitty throbbed when he got authoritative talk like that more daddy drunk cop man

-the dad of mike is just fucking clueless 😭 people want bimbo men well there is one 😭

-why is Nancy wearing HEELS in her ROOM? I wear my crocs 😭

-HE IS SUCKING HER FACE. Straight ppl 🙁

-ooo a smooth talker…

-here’s a theory: mike only likes el in a romantic way bc she appeared in a moment of need when they were looking for will and helped get will back. Mike likes el bc she symbolizes wills safety to mike while also fitting into society’s stigma of mlw instead of mike being mlm

ALRIGHT FOLKS THATS ALL OF EPISODE 1. Thanks for joining me.!

[cazimagines]

Oblivious

Request from anon: Hi, I really enjoy your writing, particularly your Zemo fics! I had an idea for one that basically follows the while y/n joining Sam, Bucky, and Zemo through Madirpoor and Riga. Only despite Zemo’s flirting, y/n doesn’t really do anything about it or even notice until y/n along with Sam and Bucky witness Walker (New Captian America) murder a flag smasher in the street. They all go back to the safe house and y/n is like, in shock. “Captian America just killed someone” is all y/n can really say. And Zemo is able to calm them down. Maybe the romance can start then?

Word count: 3.4k

Author’s note: This one-shot can be multiple parts, if you would like to see a sequel please say! If I do decide to write a sequel though it will take me a while as I’ve had a lot of requests, please check out my master list to see what I have coming up next and if requests are currently open or not

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Heels clicked along the pavement as you sashayed along the road, approaching the men before you, two of which you know fondly. The other one, however... not so much.

They all stood close together in a circle, obviously discussing something important but at hearing your voice call out their heads turn towards you, a smile appearing on Sam and Bucky’s faces as they see you. “Long time no see boys,” you say, stopping a few feet away from them to lean on a wall.

They both walk over to you, Bucky pulling you into and hug then followed by Sam hugging you tightly. “Thank you for agreeing to help us out y/n. I know things haven’t been easy for you,”

You fake a smile at Bucky, one you hoped he wouldn’t see past resting your arm around his shoulder. “Anything for my friends,”

He was right, though. These times haven’t been easy for you, especially after Steve Rodgers left. Captain America had always been your idol, ever since you were a little kid you aspired to be just like him. You collected all the Captain America merchandise along with your brother Phil, always arguing with him who owned which toy of his. Meeting Steve had been a dream come true for you. He was the person you were closest to. He helped you come to terms with your brother’s death and whenever you needed help; he was there. You two stuck together through the thick and thin. That’s was how you got to become good friends with Sam and Bucky. You and Steve have always had a complicated relationship, though. You two liked each other and tried to see if you could be something more, but it never seemed to work out. Then Thanos happened. You, along with half the universe, were dusted. For you it was as if you had simply blinked however for Steve it was five years without you. You barely got to see each other again before he went away for good. You couldn’t hate him for it, you understood why he did what he did. He was always telling you about the ’40s, about his childhood, about her. You just wished you weren’t so connected with him. Seeing him there, old, dying. It broke your heart. But times move on. You can’t live in the past as he did.

Your eyes focus on the man behind Sam and Bucky and you frown, pulling your arm away from Bucky. A man you never thought you would see again was staring right back at you.

He stood a few feet back, knowing he wasn’t welcomed in the warm reunion of friendship. He clasped his hands, unsure what exactly he should do right now, feeling awkward, but as he looked over at you his eyes twinkled with recognition. Now you had been interesting to him. You weren’t a super soldier like Steve and James. Yet you certainly could hold your own against them. He had seen when he had first activated James. No, your strength and fighting abilities were down to your own human powers and he admired that. You were one of the few avengers he might have had an inkling to like if the Sokovia attack never happened. Still, it wasn’t as if you were to blame for it. The people who were to blame had suffered for it. You were merely the pawn in the giant game of chess. Perhaps he could grow to like you, after all, he could admit you were certainly tempting to him, the way your body was shaped excited him, the way your neck was shaped made him want to brush his fingers along it and your piercing eyes felt like they could look into the darkest corners of his soul.

“Why is he out of prison?” you snap, bringing Zemo out of his trance

Sam turns to scowl at Bucky as you all turn to Zemo, who awkwardly smiles. “Bucky thinks we need him,” Sam mutters

“Why would we need him!” you exclaim, crossing your arms and shooting Bucky a glare.

“I am invaluable,” Zemo explains with his hands, his eyes unwavering from you as he answers for Bucky.

“He hates super-soldiers, therefore he will help us in getting to Karli,” Bucky says, stepping in front of your eyesight trying to explain himself.

“That also means he hates you, Buck,”

All of them freeze as you address the elephant in the room. Bucky grits his teeth and steps back, averting your gaze as you and Sam stare expectedly at him but he doesn’t respond so Zemo takes his opportunity to step closer to you, now only a few feet apart.

“I can assure you, getting rid of Karli and her super soldier friends is my priority. Not James,”

You clench your jaw in anger as you look at Zemo. He tilts his head, the side of his lip curling up slightly, hoping you’d take a chance on him. Sighing, you turn to shoot one more look at Bucky.

“Steve wouldn’t have liked this,”

Later you sat across from Zemo on his private jet. All of you sat in uncomfortable silence as you flew to Madripoor. Sam and Bucky did not seem as close as you were to both of them. They both just sat on their respective sides and looked out the window. Zemo had a book on him which he seemed very preoccupied reading, yet there were moments where you could feel his eyes settle upon you. Ignoring his inquisitive gaze, you choose to follow in Bucky and Sam’s lead of looking out the window and daydream the rest of the trip away.

Your mind trails back to Steve. You wondered just what Steve would have thought about you teaming up with Zemo. He would have understood, wouldn’t he? It was the best option you had. Ah, but he had always been such a stickler about the rules. Breaking a criminal out and helping him avoid the law wasn’t very patriotic of you. Yep, he would not have gone through with this plan, he would have found another way that worked. But none of the people here were him. He choose not to be here. You knew you had to let him go.

“Champagne?”

You pull your eyes away from the window, coming back to reality as you see a bottle of champagne in Zemo’s hand and an empty glass in his other hand. He already had another glass full beside him as he looked at you expectantly.

“No,”

“Sure?”

“What part of no do you not understand,” you snap harshly glaring at him then back out to the window

“My apologies,” he says, pursing his lips together as he looks down at the empty glass. He glances over to Sam and Bucky but they both shake their heads as well so he hands the glass and drinks back to his butler and sighs as he opens his book again.

The tension between all of you sticks around as you arrive at Madripoor. Zemo had provided you a tight-fitting dress to ‘appear the part’ of your allice, and it showed off a bit too much of your chest than you liked. It was too bright for you, golden and sparky, cutting off at your upper tight, and had a very low v cut. You try your best to pull it down to cover you some more but to no avail. Begrudgingly, you leave the plane to meet up with the rest of them.

“My my y/n, the dress suits you,” Zemo says, smirking as his eyes trail up and down your body as you walk past him taking a straight beeline towards Sam and Bucky.

“How long will this mission take?” you ask, already feeling the cold air nip at your skin.

“Few hours at the least. I’m sorry that you have to do this, y/n”

“Hey, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to help you two,” you mutter as you hear a car pulling up behind you

“Not exactly this though,” Bucky grumbles, glowering over at Zemo who motions to the car that had arrived. Zemo opens the door and waits for you to get in however you walk to the other side of the car and get in. Bucky chuckles at Zemo’s annoyed expression as he instead gets into the side, which Zemo held open.

During the mission, Zemo kept getting uncomfortably close to you. Occasionally his hand brushed against your back as he moved past you, or his hand would bump into yours slightly, lingering against yours longer than normal.

You knew why he was doing this. Because of Steve. He knew how close you and Steve were, everyone did. During the fight between Steve and Tony which Zemo had helped cause you stuck by Steve every second. Now that Steve was gone, Zemo was trying to rub that in. Trying to irritate you on purpose. You would not let him get to you.

During the meeting with Selby you stood off to the side with Sam and you were feeling pretty good about yourself that the mission was going well until Sam’s phone rang. You tried to keep cool while also giving Sam the wtf look as to why he didn’t put his phone on silent. You hung out hoping things would go okay, but today wasn’t your day.

Shelby got gunned down in front of you, and the mission was ruined. Running in heels wasn’t ideal, but you had to make do. You followed Sam and Bucky as Zemo split up from you, running off somewhere else. Eventually, you kicked off your heels, believing running barefoot would be better than dealing with the agony of heels.

Finally, meeting back up with Zemo, you were ready to have to fight your way out of this mess, but then someone you didn’t think you would ever see again appeared. Sharon Carter. You two weren’t exactly buddy buddies. You got along for Steve’s sake, but it always felt like a sort of rivalry between you two for his attention.

“Y/n,” she says, finally addressing you

“Sharon,” you say back, feeling the awkwardness seep back in. Sharon didn’t seem bothered however, she even kindly let you have some new clothes and shoes which were much more comfortable than the ones Zemo lent you and more your style.

Walking back into the main room you see Zemo sitting down, once again drinking, Bucky sitting down as far away from Zemo as he could get and Sam standing at the side. You choose to stand by Sam.

“Hey, y/n, you doing okay?” Sam asks as you walk over.

“Better than other days. What are we waiting around for?”

“For Sharon to lead us to a party where she can get the information we need,” Zemo answers for Sam, peeking over at you. You ignore him.

Sharon comes back in and tells all of you not to get in trouble while you are out at the party.

“Trouble,” Zemo jokes, and he once again glances over to you, raising a glass and winking at you as he downs it.

Following Sharon, you head into the party. It was to show off the art pieces she had got a hold of so you thought you might as well look at them as you were unlikely to see any of these genuine pieces again. You could see however Zemo following you. He tried to be sly by checking out the other artworks near you, never exactly where you were, but you could tell because every time you moved to a new place soon enough Zemo would suddenly appear there as well. He leaned into one of the artworks, pretending to study it closely, but the corner of his eyes would flick over to you.

Groaning in frustration at your new stalker, you decide you had to lose him in the crowds. Swaying your body, you enter the dancing crowd and jump along to the music, letting yourself go. You could feel your excitement growing with the crowd as you danced, but with one quick turn around there, you saw him.

Zemo had now entered the crowd and was dancing along to the music as well, pumping his hands in time to it. As you stared at him in disbelief, he notices and takes that as an innovation to dance over to you.

“Dancing is fun, right?” he asks as he claps his hand to the music

“Why are you doing this!” you exclaim glaring at him.

His eyebrows furrow as he looks at you, “I don’t understand what you mean?”

You huff in annoyance and storm away, going to find Sam and Bucky leaving Zemo alone on the dance floor. He watches you go and sighs, moving away from the dance floor. It had been a long time since he last got to socialize with anyone and he was trying with you; he wanted to know you more, but he didn’t want to push you too far either if you were uncomfortable with it.

The next few hours felt like a blur to everyone. Sharon found out where the doctor was and you found out a bit of information before Zemo choose to shoot him. Then the whole place exploded, and you had to fight for your life while Zemo hijacked and car to pick you up. Now you were standing outside the safe house.

Zemo opened up the doors, and with his arm motioned for you to go in first. You roll your eyes at his extravagance and storm in, looking around the place. It was simple, but you could still tell that it was all designer, expensive to Zemo’s tastes. You sit down on the sofa while Zemo instantly gravitates towards the liquor cupboard.

“If you drink so much you won’t have long left to live” you mutter as you watch him pour some whiskey. His head shoots up as he turns sidewards to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Concerned about my health now?”

“I’d rather have you not pass out during a mission, at least till you are no longer of use to us then you can drink yourself to death for all I care,”

“Ah concern for the mission, yes you avengers folks are all the same. The mission takes precedence before anything else,” Zemo says, grabbing his glass and walking over to take a seat on the sofa opposite you.

You give him a cold hard stare crossing your arms. “What do you mean by that” you hiss

He tilts his head, smirking as he sees how riled up you were getting. “I’m simply observing that you have to put your mission before human lives. I know from how much I studied Steve-”

“Don’t bring Steve into this!” you exclaim, leaning forward, baring your teeth at him.

Zemo pauses for a moment shocked, he pulls his head back to observe, his mouth slightly ajar as his eyebrows cast down but realization dawns across his face.

“Ah, you and Steve, you two were an item,”

“It wasn’t like that” you murmur, jumping up from the sofa and pacing around the room to try to alleviate the agitation you felt, your nails digging into your arms as you wrapped them around your body in comfort.

“But there was something,” Zemo replies, watching you pace around the room then looking into the glass bitterly, his grip on it tightening.

You turn your back to Zemo to stare at your reflection in the mirror, seeing the tears swell up in your eyes.

“Why are you bringing this up? Why do you keep trying to annoy me Zemo, what purpose are you getting from this apart from some sick sadistic pleasure?”

It was Zemo’s turn to jump up from the sofa, hurt you could ever think so lowly of him, his eyebrows furrowed as he speeds over to you. He stands beside you, getting a lot closer to you than you would like. You turned your head away so he couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall.

“Do you think that bad of me? Y/n we may not have had the best first impression but know that it is never my intention to irritate or upset you,” Zemo says, trying to move even closer to you, but he moves a step too far and you back away.

“Just leave me alone, Zemo” you whisper, then run out of the room to find a bathroom to let everything out.

Zemo watches your form leave, angrily clenching his jaw, knowing he pushed it too far. The vein in his neck twitches as he grabs an ornament by the side of the mirror. Holding it in his hand, he observes the glass figure, a dove, then chucks it into the ground in rage, feeling an inkling of satisfaction at seeing it smash into a thousand pieces. He grabs more ornaments, at that moment not caring how much they each cost, just enjoy the release of anger he felt every time he smashed one.

-

You could hear the blood in your brain roar through your ears, the feeling of your heart hitting your chest in shock as you stared down at Lemar’s dead body.

Your eyes flicker to John’s who knelt beside him, trying desperately to wake him up, but you knew it was hopeless. Lemar was gone. Your eyes flickered around the rest of the room, Karli and her friend realising how bad they have messed up were already running away from the room. Bucky and Sam looked at each other as if knowing what was to happen. Your eyes finally land on Zemo’s. John had tried to arrest him, but you were able to stop him. Zemo was still useful though you hated to admit it, it wasn’t long however till the Dora Milaje would find him.

You feel a hand brush against your shoulder and snap back into reality, “We need to leave, now,” Zemo whispered in your ear, pulling your arm to make you move.

Gathering your senses, you let Zemo lead you out of the building as you hear a crash from above. Running out into the road, you and Zemo catch up beside Sam and Bucky and watch the disaster unfold.

There was John, in Cap’s uniform, holding Cap’s shield above that man.

Steve.

Steve’s shield.

You feel a scream tear from your lips as you watch John Walker bring the shield down, penetrating the man’s chest, staining it in blood. Tears leak from your eyes as you attempt to rush forward, to try and stop it, but arms grasp onto you, pulling you back.

“NO” you repeatedly cried, trying to worm your way out of the grasp, but they gripped you, refusing to let go. Your knees gave out and you sink to the floor, collapsing in the arms of the person who held you, your head buried in the fur part of their coat as they held you to their chest.

You kept sobbing, shaking as the image replayed over and over in your mind.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whispered, unable to say anything else. The arms which held you picked you up, quietly shushing you, and carried you down a road, back into the safe house.

They tried to put you on the sofa but you clung to their body, not believing you could survive without their support, so they settle on lying down beside you on the sofa.

They turned you to face their body as their arms draped around you, gently rubbing circles into your back. Burying your head into their chest again, you let the sobs wail out as your chest ached from breathing.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whisper again to him.

“That wasn’t Steve, y/n, Steve would never do something like that,” he murmured, his accent soothing your nerves.

“But it was his shield Zemo. The very thing I had idolized for so long,”

“A shield which by now no longer belongs to him. He was never Captain America y/n, what we just saw proved that. They will give the shield to someone better,”

You sniff, trying to prevent the snot from coming out of your nose as your bloodshot eyes look up into his, “Really?”

He gently smiles at you, taking his hand off your back to push a strand of hair that was hanging over your eye away.

“Yes, they won’t make the same mistake twice,”

Zemo’s words brought more comfort than you could have ever imagined. His embrace brought you warmth and you could feel yourself slowly stop shaking as he held you. Looking away from Zemo in embarrassment, you instead choose to snuggle your head back into his chest, hearing the rapid beating of his heart which lulled you to sleep.

Tags: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @aloyssiac @hannahbal-the-fannibal @alainabooks143 @jokerprettyprincess @plumsandkiwis @latenightartist-author @e-barba @flutterskies @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean

[donutloverxo]

Make me

*gif is not mine*

The donut series - Part 8

Note - Idk wtf this is... Lol! Hopefully I can complete this series before the year ends. Just 2 or 3 more parts now.

Thank you so so much to @firefly-graphics for the cute dividers💖💖

Summary - You move into the tower with Steve.

Warnings - 18+ only please, smut (m/f), soft dom Steve, daddy kink, captain kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, spanking, punishments, Steve is pushy and possessive, some angst, (lemme know if I missed any)

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 5.2k

Series masterlist

“What do you think you’re doing?!” You jerked when you heard Steve’s voice calling out to you, dropping your lipstick on your lap, your heart hammering in your chest.

You stared at his reflection in the dressing mirror. “God, Steve,” looking over your shoulder you glared at him, “Don’t you think you shouldn’t be sneaking up on me? Especially after everything that happened.”

His face immediately soften, muttering an apology to you, “But you’re not going out today.” He said in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

But you weren’t one of his agents or one to be bossed around. “And you get to tell me what to do, because?” folding your arms over your chest and mimicking his stance.

“Sweetheart, come on, don’t argue with me. It’s still dangerous for you out there.”

“What do you mean? I thought you arrested those guys. Who else would be after me?” you frowned.

He takes two long strides, standing before you and taking your hand in his “Clint has been interrogating them all night. They’ll crack soon enough and give up who they’re working for but we need to be careful till then.”

You sighed, “How long do you think it will be?”

“I don’t know, doll. Hopefully not too long.”

“Well, I can’t just stay locked up forever. Besides a locked door isn’t going to stop Hydra, I mean it didn’t the first time. So really what difference does it make if I’m in college or at home?”

“About that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “how would you feel about moving into the Avengers tower?”

“What?” you blinked. You had heard of the Avengers living and working from the Avengers/Stark tower. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Steve would possibly live there as well, but for some reason it did. “For how long?”

“Uh, we can give it a try and see how it goes?” he hesitated. He should’ve asked you to move there as soon as you told him you felt unsafe. The whole incident could’ve easily been avoided.

“I mean I wouldn’t mind living there, I think,” you shrugged, “it’s you I’m worried about.”

“What do you mean?” he tilted his head to the side, like a cute little puppy.

You got up from the chair, looping your hands over his neck and playing with the little hair on the nape of his neck, “You’re so cute and clueless, baby,” you cooed.

He huffed at that, puffing out his chest to show you how ‘macho' he is. Completely capable of protecting his girl from big bad guys no matter what.

“I just felt the tower is so unlike you. It’s so...”

Modern--was the word you were looking for, but that seemed too on the nose so you tried to think of a better adjective. You had only ever been to the tower a few times. The first was to make a delivery, when you met Steve for the first time, and then a few times at parties and little get-togethers. It was strange to think that you were part of the Avengers inner circle now, especially if you’re going to be living with them.

“So what?” he wanted to know.

“Just so not you, Stevie. I can’t imagine you living there.”

“We should’ve moved long ago. As soon as you told me about the stalker. I should’ve taken it more seriously.”

“Hey,” you traced his sharp cheekbone, “it’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. Except the ones who did the kidnapping,” you scrunched up your nose, “they’ll get what’s coming to them though, right?”

“Of course, they’ll never hurt you or anyone else ever again,” he promised, kissing the inside of your wrist.

You kept looking at your watch. A gift from your mum for your high school graduation. It had a vintage feel to it, the thin leather strap making your hand look to delicate, Steve had always said that he liked it the best. He always did like you looking small compared to him.

The elevator dinged, “Exactly four minutes.”

“Hm?” he asked, lacing his fingers with yours as he walked towards ‘his' apartment. Or the apartment that was supposed to be his.

Tony had offered him boarding there when the tower was reconstructed months ago. He thought about it but eventually said no upon seeing just how big the apartment was.

Hell he had a whole floor to himself, which was too extravagant for him. He was used to taking only what he needed, if that.

More than that though...

You caught him looking at you, sparing him a sweet smile that crinkled your sparkling eyes.

More than that he didn’t want to live in such a large space all alone.

He would never share that with anyone, they’d laugh at Captain America being too scared of being alone. When he had the love and adoration of the whole world, a second chance at life and everything one could need to be happy.

But he still couldn’t bear the deafening silence of his lonely apartment. He’d get home from work, switch on the television so he’d have something to talk about with his colleagues, sip on a beer. It didn’t necessarily get him drunk or even taste all that great but it made him feel normal.

He never had to think about being alone in a strange new world all that much since he was often too busy. But he absolutely would not have an entire floor to himself. He’d surely go crazy.

“Four minutes for the elevator to get up here from the ground floor. It’s so high,” you marvelled at the view the floor to ceiling windows gave you.

“Yeah. They really should put some music there. They used to, back in my day,” he shared.

He wasn’t afraid of talking about his past with you. You never made fun of him for it, but instead listened intently and nodded. At most you’d tease him a bit... but he kinda liked that.

He punched in the code to his apartment, telling it to you, “Your birthday,” he winked, “it’s changed every twenty-hour hours.”

“That seems a bit excessive. This place is like a fortress, I doubt anybody could break in.”

He held the door open for you as you entered. Surprised to find the apartment already furnished.

“How did they manage to do all this so soon?” you wondered. Running your hands on the leather of the couch in the middle of the living.

The dark couch went well with the hardwood floors. A tall bookshelf to the side, it felt almost like a study, your fears of it being too modern and minimalistic for Steve’s taste were null, too masculine for your taste though. It seemed a lot like Steve’s old apartment. “Needs a woman’s touch.”

“You can decorate it however you like,” he said, hugging you from behind, he propped his chin up on your head.

“I don’t know... I don’t have any experience decorating apartments...” your voice small, scared of not being able to live up to his expectations. “Certainly wouldn’t do as good a job as you did,” your back leaned into his front.

“I didn’t decorate this, honey,” he chuckled. “Tony hired an interior designer. A few months ago but I didn’t want to live here then. We can ask him to call her again and then you can talk to her.”

“No, I don’t want to cause trouble. And it’s not like we’re living here for long,” you shrugged.

“What do you mean?” his voice stiff and although you couldn’t look at him you just knew he was frowning.

“Isn’t it a bit too soon to move in together?”

“But we were already living together.”

You sighed, “Yeah, but making renovations seems too... permanent?”

“You don’t want us to be permanent?”

You turned around, your heart aching at even the thought of hurting him, “That’s not what I meant, love... Isn’t it weird to live where you work?”

“It’s better this way. I can get home to you sooner,” he argued.

“Well, I suppose that’s true.”

“Are you having second thoughts about us?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head, “It’s a bit intimidating, but nope, no second thoughts.”

“That’s good then.”

You often dreamt all things Steve ever since you started dating him. Marrying him, even having a little boy wearing a mini Captain America suit for Halloween who looked eerily similar to Steve. You called him James after Steve’s late friend, you hadn’t told him about that though.

This morning you were dreaming of being whisked away in Italy, having your wedding to him by lake Como. You were wearing a traditional forties style gown, much like the one your grandma wore at your wedding.

Scrunching your nose as you were pulled from your beautiful dream when you felt something wet on your cheek. Rubbing it away with your palm, you moaned.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” Steve cooed, peppering kisses all over your face. Knowing that to be the best way to calm you before you snapped at him for waking you up so early.

You opened your eyes, rubbing your sleep away, “It’s still dark... I thought we agreed I’m doing school online,” you turned away from him, nuzzling your face into your pillow. “What time is it?”

“It’s five.”

“Pm?”

He snorted, “No. AM.”

“Oh my god, Steve!” you groaned, “What is wrong with you? That’s like...the middle of the night. Let me sleep in peace.”

“We have to train you. Come on I’ll teach you some self defense moves, it’ll be fun.”

“I doubt any amount of training will make me capable of fighting off hydra...”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t try,” he interrupted you, “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Maybe in the evening.”

“Morning is the best time to do it. Come on, it’ll be fun! Besides, we always do your thing.”

He did often let you pick the movie or drag him shopping so he could hold your bags and pay for your stuff. You knew he liked to work out and would like to have you do it with him. The only problem was--you literally couldn’t think of anything worse to do.

“Square your shoulders, honey,” he instructed as you followed, seeing an opening to punch him in his stomach, and because you were mad about being woken up at literally the crack of dawn you took it.

He managed to dodge it, obviously. And even had the nerve to be cocky about it as he smirked at you. “You’re so small, puppy,” he teased, patting your head.

You huffed, being almost a foot shorter than him. “Whatever.”

And then you recalled all the times you had wrestled your cousin, who was much bigger than you, when you were kids. Remembering a move that often worked on him.

You launched towards Steve, holding onto his midsection and trying to tackle him to the ground.

“Urgh!” you groaned but he refused to move even an inch.

Eventually you did give up, if only so you could stop embarrassing yourself. Helping, or rather just standing to the side and watching Steve as he punched the shit out of a bag.

“Go, Steve!” you cheered. Rubbing your thighs together at the sight of him all sweaty and of his bulging muscles. “You should bring me down here more often,” you sighed dreamily.

“Will do,” he smirked, pulling the velcro of his gloves, “Come on, it’s time to do some crunches, I’ll spot you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, please,” you tried to run away, even though you knew it’d be of no use, but he effectively caught you and made you lie down on the mat. Giving you a goal of two sets of twenty frigging crunches.

“I hate you,” you grumbled. Willing yourself to pull your upper body up despite the slight pain in your side, moving up as Steve pecked your lips. To give you an ‘incentive’.

“Stop lying, I know you love me,” he smiled.

Lying back on the mat after your first set, on the verge of giving up but Steve kept insisting that you go on.

You looked down at him. His skin barely had a sheen of sweet, blond strands kissing his forehead. He still had an amber glow to his skin even as you got closer to the winter months.

“You’re staring, sweetheart,” he reminded you.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself.” Often getting lost in his beauty.

You smirked as you got a wicked idea, putting your legs over his, straddling his hips, “Have you ever wanted to do something in public?” you asked, as he simply stared up at you, completely dumbfounded. Rolling your hips against his, “I have, it’ll be fun and thrilling.”

“I... No,” he blinked, shaking his head, “We shouldn’t,” but even as he said it, he held onto your sides, pulling you closer to him. You giggled as you felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh.

“Oh my god, guys, come on.”

You yelped, holding onto Steve’s shoulders to keep from falling, looking to your side to see where the voice came from.

“We could come back if you want...” Natasha said. She didn’t look fazed by it at all, unlike her friend.

“No, we are not coming back! This is not what you use the gym for, Rogers.”

You looked at Steve, who was as red as a tomato, “Sorry,” he got up, helping you up as well, standing behind you to cover up his erection, he introduced you to his friend, “This is Sam.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam gave you a nervous smile.

“We should get going,” Steve said, pushing you towards the exit. “That’s a sneaky way to get out of training,” he whispered in your ear as you walked back to the elevator, “It won’t work again,” pinching you butt, making you squeal.

“We’ll see.”

You hummed as you looked at your side of the closet, which was as big as your old living room, it looked as if you didn’t really have enough stuff to fill it out. You looked over at Steve’s side, even more empty... and “So boring,” you whispered under your breath.

“Right?” Tony nodded, as if agreeing with you.

Why he was there in the first place you didn’t know. You didn’t invite him, neither did Steve, he had said he just wanted to see how well you both were fitting in. With Steve gone for the most part of the past couple of days you were on your own to unpack everything.

Tony said he’d help you... but you had a feeling he was just snooping.

“What a grandfather sense of fashion he has,” he looked at your poor Steve’s shirts in disgust.

You took offense to that. “If anyone can pull it off, he can,” you huffed. Nobody insults your man.

“Really?” he quirked a brunette brow, “I don’t think so. I mean... I could probably. I can pull off anything,” he boosted.

“I mean, you could try them on if you like, but they’re probably too big for you,” you taunted him in mock sympathy.

“Ouch, guess I deserve that,” he said as he went through the box you had stuffed your make up in.

“What are you even looking for?” you pulled it away from him, glaring at him, “Don’t you have a company to run or a world to save?”

“Hey, Steve was the one who asked me to keep you company,” he held his hands up.

“Really?”

“Well, he asked Nat, which is basically the same as asking me. So I volunteered. He wasn’t happy about that though,” you smacked his hand away when he tried to pry into another box.

“Why would you volunteer?” Steve may have good intentions but having the billionaire hovering over you was only making you irritated.

“... to hang out I guess,” he confessed when he couldn’t really think of anything else to say.

You giggled, “If you wanted to be my friend you could’ve just said so!”

“No... no,” he shook his head, “I didn’t say anything about wanting to be friends.”

He was just curious about you. To figure out what Caps taste is. And to maybe get some hot goss about him. Not that being friends with you sounds like the end of the world, you certainly weren’t as insufferable as Cap.

“What would you like to do, fren?” you fluttered your lashes at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be packing?”

“I’m bored of being cooped up. Lets do something fun!”

Steve smiled, a wide cheeky one, as he thought of all the things he could do with you and spend the remainder of his day with you. His stomach doing somersaults in giddiness.

“I could get used to this,” he said to himself before calling out for you. The thought of coming home to you everyday, so domestic and romantic. His smile dropping as he looked for you in the bedroom, the boxes sat scattered and unopened. All over the room.

He knew you were in the apartment before he even heard your voice, his super senses alerting him, “Oh, Steve!” you perked up. Giggling as you put your shopping bags down. “So, I might’ve made an oopsie.”

Plumping down on the fluffy bed, large enough to fit two Steve’s and still have room for you, taking off your real Louboutins. Since Steve gave you his card, you decided you wanted to treat yourself to them. But they were equally as uncomfortable as the fake ones.

“What?” he quirked a brow, his hands on his hips as he despondently shook his head.

“Well, Tony pointed out that your wardrobe is kinda...” you thought of a adjective that wouldn’t be offensive, biting your lip as you went through your vocabulary, “Old-ish?” when he didn’t reply you kept going, “and I might’ve maxed out your card... Tony offered to pay! But it didn’t feel right,” you jutted your bottom lip out, pushing your titts up together in an attempt to look cute.

“You went out? When I specifically asked you not to?” a rage simmering in his voice--which you didn’t quite like. Because who the fuck was he to talk to you like that?

“I had Iron Man with me. I think I was okay. You’re being annoying,” you rolled your eyes.

“Am I?” his hands now folded over his chest.

And you’d be frustrated with him acting as if he was your dad, sure you called him daddy but that didn’t give him the right to have authority over you while you weren’t naked, if he didn’t look so fucking good. With the veins propping on his forearms, light blond hair littered over it, his watch strapped on his wide wrist. You only stared him down in response.

“It would’ve been better if you had went alone instead. Tony is nothing but trouble,” he scoffed.

“I thought you wanted me to make friends with your team,” you countered.

“Are my clothes too embarrassing for you? Am I too old for you?” he tried to keep his voice from wavering, to hide some of his vulnerability, but he couldn’t, not to you anyway. “Is that why you didn’t tell your family about me?”

You gaped at him. That was the reason you hadn’t told your mom. She’d point out the obvious reasons, as she had just like you expected, him being from the forties would just make things harder for you both.

“I - ” you started but then stopped, “I like your clothes as they are. If you don’t like what I got you then we can return them. I just wanted to do something nice for you,” getting up and then walking towards him, kissing his jaw and stroking his arms to calm him, “you never think about yourself, I wanted to do that for you.”

“I wish that was true, doll,” he replied gravely. His lips pressed in a thin line as he looked at your sweet face, “But you have to apologize. For not following my orders.”

You snorted, taking a step back, “For the last time--you cannot order me around. I don’t care that you think you know what’s best.”

“Really? I’ve been working my ass off on trying to find the guys that did this to you and you are just hell bent on making my life harder,” he let out a dry chuckled, “say your sorry.”

“Make me.”

You regretted the words as soon as they came out of you, before you knew it he had you hauled over his lap, ready to spank an apology out of you.

“Ah!” you yelped at the unceremonious blow.

You did like it when he spanked you, you truly didn’t know why, but it made your pussy quiver. And honestly he didn’t do it enough. Only doing it once when you were late and weren’t able to call him.

Slapping your covered bottom a second time before stopping when he heard you moan, slipping a palm under your dress, being purposely slow to draw it out for you, to torture you in his own way, he pushed your panties aside, swirling your juices around your lips.

“You’re fucking enjoying this,” he growled.

You whimpered when he rolled your bundle of nerves between his fingers, nodding your head, already feeling yourself tethering on the edge.

“That’s too bad... I’ll have to be more creative,” he said as he withdrew his hand, making you writhe in his hold.

You looked at him over your shoulder, wiggling your butt to try to entice him before huffing when he simply stared at you, stoic as ever, “You’re no fair!”

“I’m doing this to be fair, sweetheart. I don’t enjoy it anymore than you do.”

A blatant, clear-cut, shameless lie. You both knew it. He loved thinking of ways to ‘punish' and executing them.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he placed you over his lap, your back to his broad front, his fingers working on the zipper of your dress. Pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“I’m going to fuck you till you admit that you’re sorry,” since he had no patience for insolence, placing a dubiously sweet and innocent kiss to your cheek.

“In your dreams,” you retorted but then shivered in his arms you let him roll your panties down your thick thighs, lifting up your hips to help him out, leaving you completely bare against him.

You bashfully rubbed your face against his button up, you felt his heart beating steadily, as his hands shamelessly explored your body. Grabbing and kneading at your breasts and hips, tracing the stretch marks on your thighs.

“Aren’t you gonna take your clothes off too?” you made yourself small.

You weren’t afraid of being so vulnerable before him, you had gotten used to it because you trusted him enough to not be intimidated by his perfect physique, but right now your whole body felt hot as you just wanted to cover up and give yourself some sort of modesty. Even if your desires and yearning for him was anything but modest.

“No, honey,” he answered, his fingers parting your weeping lips as he looked down to get a glance of it over your shoulders. Licking his lips at the sight of it, “Such a pretty pussy, doll. And all mine,” he rasped as he prodded at your hole with his middle finger before pushing it in, “Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you nodded, trying to roll your hips over the erection pressing into your back.

He stilled your movements by holding onto your hips, warning you to stop, “Forever?” he urged.

“Yes, forever, god, just do something!” you wailed. Because whatever he was doing was not enough to satisfy you.

He hummed in thought, “I’m not a young guy. I prefer to take my time,” he pushed another finger in, stretching you out by viscously scissoring your cunt, all the while kissing your hair and your face.

He wasn’t someone who took only what he needed.

He didn’t need you.

Although it often seem to him as if you were like air--impossible to live without. He didn’t need you to live.

But he wanted you. More than anything else in the whole world.

He knew he shouldn’t keep you. Only being with you for a few months and he had almost gotten you killed but there was no way he could help himself.

“I’m selfish,” he whispered to you, pausing his ministrations to ruin your climax, “I’m selfish with you. I’m not as good as everyone makes me out to be,” he confessed. He didn’t know if it was right to do so, but he didn’t want to even consider the other option of letting you go.

“I figured out long ago that you weren’t all that good and boring,” you cried as he stopped again. Your hand holding onto his wrist as your sensitive cunt gushing juices of arousal all over your brand new sheets. “But I’m good, aren’t I, daddy?” you whispered, sultrily. “You can make me come--I’m always good to you. I promise I’ll suck you off after.”

“No.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his rejection, he had never done that to you. To deny you so easily and bluntly. You thought he was the one person in this whole world who would do anything for you, you could ask for the moon and he’d probably try to give it to you.

Was he really that mad at you?

Your bottom lip quivering as tears welled up in your eyes, “You’re so mean,” you accused, loudly sniffing as you felt a tear drop down your cheek.

He blinked, his fingers stopping their assault on your swollen pussy as he took in your words. You could stomp all over his heart, even shoot him, do anything you want to him, he’d forgive you for it but he absolutely could not bear to see you cry.

“No, pup,” he cooed, gently removing his fingers as you whined, he kissed your forehead as he hushed you, “it’s okay, you’re okay, shush,” one hand under your neck and circling another under your knees, cradling your naked body close to his chest like a babe, he rocked you back and forth in an effort to sooth you.

“I’m sorry I was mean,” he whispered into your hair.

“You broke your pinky promise,” you held onto his neck. You were angry with him and at the situation but your body craved the comfort his gave you. “I can’t trust you now.”

His heart ached at that, “Don’t say that,” he furrowed his brows, kissing you all over your face, “I didn’t yell, puppy.”

“But you got mad,” you puffed your cheeks.

“I didn’t promise to not get mad. That’s a bit unrealistic...”

“No, you promised--no yelling, curing or meanness. Not calling me your 'good girl' or letting me come is mean! And cruel,” you reminded him, whimpering into his chest.

“Right, right. I’m sorry, that’s my fault then. I got a bit carried away... I thought you liked that you know?”

You hummed. You did like it when Steve was a bit rough, but you always knew he loved you with all his heart because you could see it in his eyes. The way he’d praise you for being so good for him, calling you his one and only, that he could never love anyone as much as he loves you.

But when he didn’t say that to you, when he refused to call you good, your soft heart couldn’t take the rejection.

“I do... but...” you hid your face in his neck.

“But what?” he urged you.

“But I also like knowing that you love me,” you spoke against his prickly stubble.

“Of course I love you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t, even for a second. You’re my sweet girl, forever and always,” he promised, rocking you some more, until your breathing becomes normal and steady again.

“You’re my daddy forever too,” you giggled, “or Captain, whatever you prefer.”

“If I had to pick I’d say Steve,” he told you. While it was nice to have you call him sweet name, nobody really uses his given name anymore. To have you call him that in your sweet girly voice, reminding him that he could be just Steve with you, was exhilarating.

“Okie, Stevie then.”

“Right, how about I draw you a bath? Afterwards we can go over the things you got me,” he perked up.

“You don’t have to wear them if you’re not comfortable.”

“I know, pup, but I want to. I want to get with the times. Can’t have anyone making fun of you for dating an old man,” he teased, swaying you some more.

“Hm, but...”

“But what?”

“I... um... still wanna come, so bad,” you whispered softly, rubbing your thighs together. “Will you make me come, Stevie?”

“Yes,” he replied immediately, “how would you like me to?”

“I wanna come around you,” you stated as heat rushed to your cheeks. “And I am sorry. I probably should’ve told you before going with Tony.”

“I know you’ve been cooped up, honey. I’m going to take a few days off so we can do whatever you like,” he said, working on unbuckling his belt, “But before that, I need to take care of my sweet girl, just like she does for me.”

Your hands feebly pulling at his button up, he took your queue and rid himself of it, along with his undershirt as your hands explored the expanse of his broad chest.

Pulling his length out, he manoeuvred your body till you over him, “Guide me in, sweetheart,” he instructed as you whimpered.

Grabbing the base of his cock, coating your slick in his pre ejaculate, you slowly sunk down on him. Not being able to fit all of him in, because he was as thick as a can of pringles, and oh so long.

You looked at him, too anxious to disappoint him, “Can’t fit it all in,” you whined.

“It’s okay, doll,” he stroked your back. “We’ll make it fit some other day,” he pecked your lips, lying on his back and pulling you down with him he snaked a hand between your bodies, working your clit up with his hand till he felt you convulsing and clenching around his length, gripping him so tight as you squirmed in his hold.

Whispering sweet nothings to you as you calmed down from your high. You wanted to do something for him too, to make him come, so you grinded your hips over his, shivering at the sick squelching sounds your joined sexes made.

But he stopped you by gripping your hips, “How about you just keep me warm for now?” he asked.

You hummed, “It’ll be hard...” to have him just stay inside you, and you knew he could stay hard for hours if he wanted to, and for you to not be able to do anything about it...

“I know it will be. But you’re my good girl, you can do that for me, right?” he tipped your chin up to make you look at him.

“Yes, Stevie,” you agreed.

Laying your head back on his chest, muttering a ‘sorry' whenever you accidentally clenched around him and following his orders like a good girl would.

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