#steve x reader (platonic)
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Meant To Be
Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> When you find yourself transported to the future, you begin to question if you were always meant to be here.
Disclaimer: Kinda open ended, platonic!Steve x reader, fluff, angst, Reader comes from the 40s, MJ scaring people, oblivious idiots, swearing, mentions of violence. Not Proof Read.
You groaned as you hit the solid ground. “Oh, I am gonna kill Howard.”
Coughing a little before rolling onto your front to try and stand, you took a look around you.
“Where the fuck-”
As you brushed some dust from your skirt, a loud blaring alarm sounded overhead. You were quick to cover your ears before trying to find an exit. What was the wager that Howard had set something on fire again?
But before you could call out, the floor beneath you fell open and you went sliding down. A scream let itself out from your lungs, only stopping just before you landed and rolled onto a pristine white floor.
“Jarvis, who is she?”
Once again, you groaned. You held your head, keeping your eyes closed. “For god’s sake, Howard. You know who I am. Don’t pull that bullshit with - ow - me.”
As you stood on your feet, you looked around you again. The whole room was white. Where the hell were you?
“Jarvis?”
You recognised the name, but not the voice that said his name.
Slowly turning around, you started to realise where you were. It wasn’t like any you were used to but you were, in fact, in a cell.
“I can’t seem to find an ID for her from this century.”
“This century?”
You looked through the glass. “Where’s Howard?”
The man looked right at you. “I ask the questions here.”
“Considering I’ve just landed who the fuck knows where, I’d say I’m the one who should be asking questions. How much did he pay you? Thirty, forty bucks?”
“Forty bucks?”
The man seemed disgusted.
“What? Keep Y/n distracted so he can run around town again? Just so you know, if I don’t kick his ass, Peggy will.”
“Stark! What the hell is going on?”
Tony watched as you lit up a little at the voice coming down the hall.
“Steve?!” You called out.
Tony had already been confused when he got an alert from Jarvis that someone had broken into the facility. Then he was confused even more when you asked for Howard. But now? Now he was more confused than ever.
“Steve!? Oh, thank god. Tell this moron to let me out. Howard’s probably ten seconds away from setting the whole building on fire. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Tony turned to his side and took a long look at Steve. He looked…pale. Shocked, to say the least. Like someone had just stuck a knife into his heart and he was watching himself bleed out.
“Y/n?”
“You know her?” Tony asked quietly.
You laughed. “What? Did Howard pay you, too? Just so you know, once I’ve kicked his ass, I’m gonna have Peggy kick yours.”
Steve turned towards Tony with a slightly heated gaze. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything. She just showed up here. Who is she?”
Reading the room, you took a few steps forward. Something told you that this wasn’t just a prank. “Steve, what’s going on?”
“Y/n?”
“Yes?”
Steve felt the breath leave his lungs. “What…What year is it?”
You chuckled. This game again?
“1944.”
Steve couldn’t breathe.
“Sir, though I’m not quite sure how it’s possible. I do believe this is Agent Y/n Y/l/n. Born in 1921, she went missing the summer before Sargent Barnes fell from the train.”
That sentence made you panic a little. “Okay, Jarvis! Howard, I get it. You can call it off now!”
“Call what off?”
Steve ignored Tony for a few moments. “Y/n, I think you’re gonna wanna sit down.”
“Steve, what’s going on?”
“Tony, open the doors.”
He didn’t think twice and the glass door slid away and behind the panel, letting Steve inside.
“Steve?”
He didn’t say anything. He just hugged you. Tight. Like he’d waited years to do so. So, you hugged him back. “Steve, you’re scaring me now. What’s going on? Where’s Howard? I swear to god if this is some-”
Steve leaned back and shook his head. “No, this isn’t…it’s not a joke.”
You stepped back a little and took in the two men in front of you. Although he wasn’t Howard, he did have a funny resemblance to him. And Steve…the last time you saw him…he’d been wearing his uniform. Not a blue button down and a pair of jeans.
“You should probably come with us.”
Less than ten minutes later you were sitting in Tony’s lab. Some kind of floating projector showed different images and other things. All the while, you could feel Steve’s eyes burning a hole into the side of your head.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Being in the underground bunker. Howard’s testing some new chemical weapons. It’s meant to melt weaponry from the inside. Steve, what happened? Jarvis…s’voice…he said Bucky fell. Did we lose?”
Steve shook his head, taking your hand in his. “No. The war…we won the war. But…Hydra…they captured Bucky. We all thought…I thought he was dead. I thought you were dead.”
You couldn’t do anything else but laugh, though it wasn’t happy. “Steve, I was with you less than twenty minutes ago. And Howard-”
“Howard’s dead.”
“Tony.” Steve scolded.
“What?”
You looked back at Steve, then at Tony.
“Y/n, this is Tony. Howard’s son.”
You heard yourself gasp a little. But before you could understand what the hell was going on, the doors across the lab swung open.
“Mr Stark! I’ve finally figured it out! If I just change the chemical- oh. Hello.”
You looked over at the young boy who couldn’t be more than seventeen or eighteen.
“Y/n, this is Peter. Peter, this is-”
“Holy shit, you’re Y/n Y/l/n.”
Both Tony and Steve looked at Peter. “You know her?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, MJ goes on about her all the time. MJ’s my girlfriend, by the way and she thinks you're, like, super cool. But- hey. Wait a minute. How can you be here?”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question.”
“Mr Stark?”
Tony sighed. “Best we can figure is that my old man went wrong and somehow…”
“Invented time travel?” Peter finished.
Tony nodded, as did you.
“Sounds like Howard.”
“Maybe you should call Scott?”
“Why Scott?”
Peter shrugged. “I was gonna suggest Hank but I didn’t think you two are still talking since the burrito fiasco in the cafe the other week.”
Steve just looked at Tony and it took a few minutes but the Stark kid threw his head back before grumbling and pulling out his phone. “Fine.”
“He’s just like his dad,” Steve heard you whisper as you watched him walk away.
“Hey,” Steve said softly, bringing your attention back to him. “How are you feeling?”
“Dizzy. Terrified. Angry. A little more dizzy.”
Steve just held your hand tighter.
“Steve, I need you to tell me everything that happened because right now I have too many questions and…I don’t even know where to begin.”
Steve nodded understandably. You’d been missing for longer than he’d been in the ice. You’d become a part of some of the ghost stories with the walls of Shield. You’d become a small block of text in the Smithsonian since nobody knew anything else.
Your name was one of the first that he searched for when he got out of the ice. If he can be left sleeping in the ice for seventy years, gods can wield magic hammers and aliens can fall from the sky, then surely you could still be alive somewhere, right?
But there had still been no trace of you.
Until today when a loud rad alarm started to sound throughout the kitchen to alert whoever was left in the compound that someone had broken in.
So, starting from the beginning, Steve told you as much as he could in the short time you had together. With Peter filling in a few gaps.
Steve told you about when you went missing. How Howard has a black eye for three weeks since Peggy had hit him hard when she realised what he’d been making and didn’t think to use any safety precautions. One thing Howard knew for certain was that you weren’t dead. How he knew that, the others couldn’t figure. But it was easier to accept than thinking Howard Stark had just murdered one of his closest friends.
Steve told you about when Bucky fell and when he went into the ice. He told you about the end of the war and him and Peggy.
Peter told you about Tony and the little snippets he knew from what he’d been told. Peter accidently let slip that Bucky had been the one to murder Howard and his wife, Maria.
Steve explained about the Winter Soldier programme and waking up in the ice. He told you about New York and The Avengers. Peter mentioned how he, too, was a Superhero. Steve explained about Natasha, Sam and Bucky. Peter mentioned bringing Bucky and Steve up to date with Star Wars and other movie franchises.
Then Steve explained, briefly, about Wakanda and what Bucky had been through.
Tears slipped from your eyes and Steve helped you wipe them away. “So…he’s…he’s alive?”
Steve nodded with a smile. “He’s alive.”
You felt yourself breathing again. Steve had only told you the key things about what happened to Bucky. You couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he went through, or the pain Steve went through realising he’d lost Peggy.
Last you knew, Peggy and Steve were crushing hard on each other. You and Bucky had a bet running for how long it would take for Steve to finally ask her on a date.
“Okay, he’s on his way. He doesn’t believe me, but I don't even believe it.” Tony announced as he walked back inside, pocketing his phone.
“What happens now? What am I meant to do?”
Steve looked at Tony who just shrugged. “You stay here with us until we can get some kind of answer, I guess.”
You tilted your head at Steve. “I’m meant to be in the 40s. What the hell am I supposed to do whilst I’m here? Better yet, what the hell am I meant to do when I can go home? What, am I just not meant to tell you anything? Or Bucky for that matter? Oh, my god! Can I even get home?”
Steve placed his hands on your shoulders and led you back to your seat. “Okay, just sit down. Just breathe.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Blueberry?” Tony suddenly shoved a silver packet into your face. “They can help calm the nervous system.”
Tony didn’t say anything else. But he did unfurl your hand and place a packet in your palm.
“Can I even get home?”
“Uhh…”
“It’s not a question of whether or not you can get home. It’s do you go home?”
Everyone, including yourself, jumped. All except for Peter.
“Jesus Christ,” you swore to yourself, holding onto your chest.
“How the hell did you get in here?” Tony turned towards the curly haired girl standing beside Peter.
“Peter texted me.”
Tony just stared at the girl. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”
Steve sighed. “She’s training with Nat and Laura, remember?”
That seemed to answer something.
“See, that’s how you give me information.”
“Oh,” Peter jumped back into the conversation. “Agent Y/l/n?”
“Please, call me Y/n.”
“This is MJ, my girlfriend.”
You smiled at her and she gave you a small smile back. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
Half an hour later, three people walked inside who were introduced to you as “Ant-Man, but not the original Ant-Man-.”, “Hope”, “She’s the Wasp.”, and “Hank Pym.”
“I believe you might be able to…help.”
Hank nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“What ‘we’ can do?”
“Why ‘we’?”
“It’s my lab, Pym.”
“And it’s my research, Stark.”
“I found her first.”
“But you called me, remember?”
The argument continued on for a few more minutes until finally you stood up.
“Hey!”
That shut them up.
“I am not some lab rat that you’re gonna be poking needles into! I understand that I’m over seventy years out of my time, but I’m not some experiment. I’m human, alright?!”
Hope nudged MJ. “I like her.”
Hank and Tony seemed to come to a silent agreement. “Okay, how about we start with the basics?”
You nodded. “Okay.”
Over the next few hours, you had your heart rate monitored, your blood pressure taken, your memory tested. You filled out multiple different medical forms. You told them everything you could about where and when you were born, what you did in the last week of your life in the 40s and was fed so many blueberries you were pretty sure your skin would turn the same colour.
“MJ?”
As the boys messed with things on the other side of the lab, you took a seat beside the girl.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” you smiled. “I was hoping I might be able to talk to you.”
MJ nodded. “What about?”
“Earlier, when you said it’s more about do I get back…Peter mentioned you might know a few things about me, after I went missing.”
MJ nodded slowly. “I…might.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone anything. Whatever you know will stay between you and me.”
MJ nodded. “Okay.”
“Just…tell me everything?”
And she did.
About the rumours, about the ghost stories. That’s all they were, but there was always a hint of truth in stories. Some people still looked for you, others believed you hadn’t ever existed at all. There was a lot of research done after your disappearance. What had caused it, where you could have gone.
“Does this research still exist?”
“You’d have to ask Mr Stark about that one. Mostly it was his dad’s stuff. I only know because Agent Romanoff was helping me find references for a college paper.”
You smiled. “Thank you, MJ.”
That was when Jarvis, who wasn’t Javis, spoke. “Uh, Captain Rogers, sir. Sergeant Barnes and Captain Wilson have returned.”
“Thank you, Jarvis.”
You looked over at Steve.
“I’ll go and get him.”
You just nodded and watched as Steve jogged down the hall, out of the doors and towards the stairs.
“Did you date?”
You turned back to MJ. “What?”
“You and Barnes? There were always rumours. And I’ve seen the footage.”
“Footage?”
“They still show clips in the Smithsonian. You know, like Steve keeping a picture of Peggy in his compass. I’ve seen some of you and Barnes.”
You could only nod, letting her know you’d heard what she said.
Truth be told, you and Bucky hadn’t been dating. You were just friends. He’d save you a dance at every Hall. He was the one, besides Peggy, who you’d been closest to. On the days where all his confidence and charm would leave his body – mostly when he was geeking out at the technology fairs – you’d stick by his side and help him out.
Some women he’d try and talk to, so you’d give him a push. But others…he was nice to them, but he just wanted some time alone. The war was a lot and with his own call-up looming, he just wanted some time. So, making sure he didn’t constantly bump into people, you’d both pretend you were on a date. It kept some girls away, and you and him had a great time.
And despite your growing crush over the last few months…no, you weren’t dating.
Your head kicked back into gear. “No. No, we weren’t dating. Just friends.”
MJ just gave you a look. You knew that look. Because it was the same look Peggy had given you three days ago when she cornered you in the girls bathroom after you excused yourself when one of the blonde agents waltzed her way over to talk to Bucky.
Before your conversation could continue further, however, there were multiple sets of boots pounding on the floor. The noise was growing closer and closer.
You stood up from your chair, standing directly in view of the glass doorway, your skirt swishing a little around your knees.
And through the glass, you saw Bucky come to a halt.
He just stared at you.
He was in dark blue tactical gear, a man stood behind him with a jet pack attached to his back and Steve remained beside him.
Bucky stood alone just staring at you.
Then he started walking.
Opening the door, your name fell from his lips before he ran towards you and you ran to him.
Crashing in the middle, Bucky’s arms held your tightly almost crushing your bones.
“Y/n,”
“James,” you felt yourself smile.
“You’re alive?”
“Apparently.”
He just held you tighter. “I didn’t believe him. He told me…you were here and…you’re really here.”
Bucky felt himself laugh a little. He was stunned. To him, he hadn’t spoken to you in over seventy years, but he knew, to you, you and him had spoken that morning.
He never forgot you.
He never let himself forget you.
You meant too much to him.
“I don’t have a clue what’s going on, but boy am I glad to see you.”
Bucky laughed again before leaning back to look at you. Instinctively, he held your face. Both of you had tears in your eyes but that didn’t matter.
“God, you’re alive.”
Bucky hugged you again.
“If you two love birds have finished, might we get back to work?” Hank called out.
Scott nudged him and Hope slapped him across the head. Meanwhile, you remained fixed in Bucky’s arms.
Hours and hours and hours of work later, you were sitting on your own since Bucky had left to go and get you something to eat.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Sam came and sat beside you.
“Something tells me I don’t make it back home.”
“Maybe you’re not meant to.”
You just looked at Sam. And he took a breath before talking again.
“First time I asked Bucky about his life before,” Sam started. “The first person he mentioned was you. You were close to him. And he was close to you. He told me losing you was one of the worst pains he ever suffered through. And when Steve mentioned your name today, I saw someone come back to life inside of him. A person even I haven’t seen in Bucky since that day when he first talked about you.”
You didn’t exactly know where Sam was going with his speech, so you just let him continue.
“Maybe, for whatever reasons will help you rationalise this, you were meant to be here instead. With these two, but most importantly…” Sam just pointed to Bucky across the room who was handing out different lunch meals to everyone as Peter carried the tray.
“Nothing is as I remember it.”
“Maybe you’re not as you remember.”
You just looked at Sam, puzzled.
“Those two science nerds will probably have some big, elaborate explanation but, maybe you didn’t time travel. Maybe you just got stranded in time. Pushed through each year in order to get to this one. And, whenever you dropped-”
“Literally.”
“Into here…it was because you needed to. Because it was meant to be.”
You rolled your eyes a little and laughed. “Okay.”
Sam just chuckled and nudged you.
Bucky eventually made his way over to you, just in time to hear Sam ask; “And if you’ve got any tips on how to tap into Mr White Wolf, I’ll take ‘em.”
Sam tapped Bucky on the arm as he passed him by, heading towards the food Steve was opening up at one of the tables.
“It’s not ration food, but it’s the closest I could find to something familiar.”
You smiled accepting the meal as Bucky sat beside you and ate his own with you.
Looking around you, you took everyone in. The super soldiers, the humans, the ego filled scientists and the kids. And the longer you looked, the more it started to look familiar.
Maybe a different room, maybe a different year.
But it was still the same.
Then Sam’s words echoed in your head.
“Meant to be.”
A month later, you were still in the future. People were still looking for answers but the longer time pushed on, the more you began to realise maybe Sam was right. Maybe this was where you were meant to be.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#x reader#fluff#winter soldier#platonic!steve rogers#sam wilson and bucky barnes#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#bucky fic#james bucky buchanan barnes#angst#james bucky barnes#james bucky barnes x reader#bucky fluff#reader is from the 40s#time travel#mj scaring the crap out of people#mcu#marvel fic#mcu x reader#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel fluff#marvel compound#marvel tower#bucky oneshot#bucky barnes x reader oneshots#bucky barnes#bucky x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve, seeing Y/N babying Bucky: What happened??
Y/N, putting a bandaid on Bucky’s finger: Bucky got a paper cut.
Steve, rolling his eyes: Seriously? Yesterday Sam was screaming "I've been stabbed!" and all you did was yell "shut up!"
Y/N, after kissing Bucky’s boo-boo: That's because he was screaming "I think I've been stabbed!" Bitch, you're either stabbed or you aren't!
Steve:
Y/N:
Steve:
Natasha, sitting next to them while casually eating cereal: She's right.
#avengers incorrect quotes#marvel incorrect quotes#mcu incorrect quotes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#avengers x reader#steve rogers#sam wilson#natasha romanoff#bucky barnes x reader#avengers x platonic!reader#source: two broke girls
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve: I’m not gonna lie, Y/N scares me a little bit
Natasha: Oh, don’t worry about Y/N. She wouldn’t hurt a fly!
Steve: Oh, that’s reassuring-
Natasha: She would kill a man, though
#mcu x reader#mcu#avengers incorrect quotes#mcu incorrect quotes#avengers x platonic reader#avengers x reader#avengers#steve rogers x reader platonic#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#natasha romanoff x reader platonic#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
i’m feeling nostalgic, so who wants a classic “tony stark’s kid” with clint in the vents, movie nights with nat, and thor and his pop-tarts?
edit: it’s in the works 😼
#avengers x platonic reader#avengers x fem!reader#avengers x stark!reader#avengers x reader#avengers x you#avengers fanfiction#the avengers#tony stark x daughter!reader#tony stark x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#thor odinson x reader#clint barton x reader#bruce banner x reader#steve rogers x reader#avengers tower#peter parker x reader#sam wilson x reader#bucky barns x reader#maria hill x reader#wanda maximoff x reader
511 notes
·
View notes
Text
Y/n: *flopping down on the couch with a bag of chips* Is stabbing someone immoral? Tony: *eyes glued to his phone* Not if they consent to it. Natasha: *trying to find a movie on Netflix* Depends on who you’re stabbing. Steve: *staring at them like they're all big stupid* YES?!?
#mcu#marvel#incorrect quotes#mcu incorrect quotes#mcu x reader#the avengers#avengers x reader#steve rogers x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#tony stark x reader#avengers x platonic reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
⛓️ “Since When?”

Steve harrington x male!reader[Henderson reader! Dustin’s older brother][goth/punk reader? Kinda more 90s style but Shh]
Since when did you start coloring your hair?
Steve couldn’t believe his eyes, or, couldn’t stop them from staring you down. Dustin was busy getting his shit together while you, bathroom door wide open, leaned over the counter table putting dye into the strands of hair.
Your shirt stopped right at your hips, your chain belts and dark low pants showed off the black ink on your lower back… since when did he like that style?
And since when did Dustin’s brother get so hot?
“Can you stop staring at my brother? Oh Jesus-” Dustin hit him with his heave bag and caught sight of you.
“Close the door!” He yelled at you, making you finally turn their way. First you turned with a glare that hit dustin, cold and annoyed then at him- Steve was terrified. And enjoying it.
Slamming the door shut after flipping dustin off, and him returning the gesture, Steve could finally think straight.
“When did he start coloring his hair? And was that a tattoo-”
“Don’t start with me.” Dustin groaned and walked out of the house with Steve on his trails.
#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington x male!reader#steve harrington x male reader#x male!reader#x male reader#stranger things drabble#stranger things x male reader#stranger things x male!reader#steve harrington x henderson reader#platonic!Dustin henderson#Steve Harrington x reader
592 notes
·
View notes
Text
Behind the Beaded Curtain
When you and Steve get stuck closing Family Video together, the usual banter takes a turn toward mischief—and maybe something more—when an empty store and a cart of VHS tapes lead to some questionable decisions. Between late-night chaos, awkward tension, and way too many adult films, Steve might finally figure out that sometimes, taking a chance is worth the risk.

hi guys! here's a little smut oneshot to hold you over till I post the next fic in my rewrite series! There is no use of Y/N and the 'you' mentioned is fem. I loosely based it off of my OC, Mac, but I tried not to be super descriptive so the X Reader girlies can get a little more immersed. This was just an idea that didn't make sense for my main fic, so i decided to write it as a oneshot. I'm goign to try and post my oneshots on this page as well as ao3! comments encouraged and I hope you enjoy.
enemies to friends to lovers, semi public sex, confressions, idiots in love word count: 13,619 TW: talk of porn, sex at work, body confidence issues, uh idk they fuck so if you don't like that i guess don't read it
REQUESTS ARE OPEN, IF YOU LIKE THIS, PLZ MESSAGE ME CAUSE I NEED INSPO <3
fic masterlist
read on ao3 or read below the cut:
The bell above the Family Video door jingled weakly, signaling the entrance of a customer. You leaned against the shelf you were restocking, the rough cardboard edges of a VHS cover pressed into your palm, watching Steve Harrington prop his feet up on the counter like he owned the place. His uniform vest clashing with his shirt, collar slightly rumpled, and his hair—perfect as ever—caught the light just so. You hated that he looked like he belonged in one of the cheesy rom-coms he was so bad at recommending to customers.
“Don’t strain yourself,” you called, sliding a copy of A Nightmare on Elm Street onto the shelf. “Wouldn’t want you to pull a muscle working too hard.”
Steve lazily swiveled the stool he was perched on, an easy grin spreading across his face. “It’s called delegating. You’re the one who offered to restock.”
You raised a brow, slapping another tape onto the shelf with a little more force than necessary. “You mean when you handed me the cart and said, ‘You’re better at this, anyway’? Yeah, real great teamwork.”
Robin appeared from one of the aisles, dragging a broom behind her and looking thoroughly unimpressed with both of you. “You know, it’s amazing you haven’t driven each other insane yet. You’re like two stray cats fighting over the same dumpster.”
Steve shot her an annoyed look, but you just smirked, leaning against the shelf with your arms crossed. “He’s not worth the energy,” you said, jerking your chin toward him. “I’d rather put my effort into alphabetizing the horror section for the third time this week.”
“Hey!” Steve pointed at you, his grin widening. “That’s because you have no taste. You keep shoving Gremlins into the comedy section.”
“It is a comedy,” you retorted, the hint of a challenge in your voice. “You’re the one who insists on putting it in horror.”
“Technically it’s a Christmas movie.” Robin interjected but you two were too into your usual banter to acknowledge her comment.
“It’s literally about monsters terrorizing a town,” he shot back, standing now, clearly ready for this argument.
“And it has a montage set to Christmas music,” you countered, stepping closer, refusing to back down. “Face it, Harrington. It’s a comedy, and your taste is basic.”
Robin watched the exchange with barely concealed amusement, resting her chin on the end of the broom handle. “This is how wars start, you know. One second it’s Gremlins, next thing you know, someone’s annexing the drama section.”
Steve ignored her, crossing his arms as he stared you down, his brown eyes sparkling with exasperation. “Oh, I’m basic? Says the girl who has a Misfits patch on her backpack like every other kid trying too hard to look edgy.”
You scoffed, stepping closer until you were almost nose to nose. “You wouldn’t know edgy if it bit you in the ass, Harrington.”
For a second, the room felt charged, like something was about to snap. Then Robin cleared her throat dramatically, cutting through the tension. “Okay, you two, this isn’t a cage match. Save it for the Halloween crowd this weekend.”
You stepped back, rolling your eyes as you returned to your cart of tapes. “Fine. I’ll let him live another day.”
Steve plopped back onto his stool, muttering under his breath but loud enough for you to hear, “You wish you could take me.”
“Oh, please,” you shot back, already halfway down the aisle. “It wouldn’t even be a contest.”
“You know, for someone who spends most of her time glaring at customers, you’ve got a lot to say.”
“Somebody has to keep you on your toes,” you shot back, brushing your hands off and making your way toward the front. You flicked a stray strand of hair out of your face as you passed him. “Besides, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t charm every poor soul who comes in here. It’s starting to get embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?” Steve feigned offense, placing a hand on his chest. “I’ll have you know, plenty of customers appreciate a little charisma. You could try it sometime.”
“Charisma doesn’t mean flirting with everyone who rents ‘Sixteen Candles,’ Harrington.”
Robin let out a dramatic sigh, looking between the two of you. “I can’t decide if this is banter or foreplay, but either way, it’s exhausting.”
“Foreplay?” Steve sputtered, his cheeks flushing.
“God, no,” you said at the same time, shooting Robin a glare.
Robin laughed, leaning against the counter as Steve sighed, shaking his head with a reluctant smile. Somewhere behind the banter, in the dim light and popcorn butter air, the faintest trace of something real hung between the two of you—something neither of you was ready to admit, least of all to each other.
---
The last few hours of your shift crawled along, with Robin having said her goodbyes twenty minutes earlier and left you and Steve to close up. A post-dinner rush had left the place in chaos, with empty shelves and a mountain of returns now sitting on the counter. Steve, standing at the rewinder machine, was absently humming to himself as you finished putting away the last of your cart.
“Finally done,” you muttered to yourself, dusting your hands off. Just as you started to roll the empty cart back toward the counter, Steve sauntered over with a fresh pile of tapes, all rewound and stacked precariously.
“Perfect timing,” he said, grinning as he plopped them onto the top of your cart. “More work for you.”
Your eyes narrowed, jaw tightening as you stared at the offending pile. “You’re kidding me.”
“What? That’s the system!” he said defensively, his hands going to his hips. It was a classic Harrington move—half annoyed, half clueless.
“Your system sucks,” you shot back, pulling the tapes off the top and setting them on the counter. “And you’re helping.”
“I am helping,” he argued, gesturing to the now-empty rewinder. “I rewound the tapes. That’s like, ninety percent of the job.”
You snorted, grabbing the cart handle with more force than necessary and turning it toward the aisles. “Whatever. I’ll do it myself.”
Halfway to the shelves, you paused, an idea sparking as you glanced back at Steve, who was still standing there with his hands on his hips. “Actually…” you said, setting the cart brake and turning to face him fully.
Steve tilted his head, suspicious. “What?”
“You’re an athlete, right?” you said, your tone dripping with exaggerated innocence. “Former Mr. Cool Guy?”
He frowned. “I don’t like where this is going.”
You grinned, hoisting yourself onto the cart and sitting cross-legged on its flat surface, tapping the metal sides. “Put those skills to use and make this less boring. You push, I steer. I’ll call out the titles; you take me to the aisles.”
Steve’s mouth fell open, his brow furrowing. “Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
“This is dumb,” he said, shaking his head. “What if someone comes in?”
You leaned back, gesturing toward the door with a dramatic flourish. “Steve, it’s Wednesday. It’s 7 p.m. The only person walking through that door is someone too embarrassed to rent their adult movie during daylight hours. And if that happens, do you really want to help them?”
Steve opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed, throwing his hands up. “Fine. But if you fall off, I’m not taking you to the hospital.”
“Noted,” you said, grinning victoriously. “ I always wanted to bleed out in the comedy section anyway.”
With a reluctant groan, Steve walked around the cart and grabbed the handle. “What’s first?”
You picked up the first tape from the stack beside you, holding it up to squint at the title. “Raiders of the Lost Ark. Action-adventure, aisle three.”
“Roger that,” Steve said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he started to push the cart. It wobbled slightly, and you leaned forward to steady yourself, already laughing as he picked up speed.
“Faster, Harrington!” you called, pointing toward the aisle like you were commanding a ship. “Aisle three awaits!”
“This was a mistake,” he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. He slowed as you neared the correct aisle, and you held the tape out dramatically, like a torch.
“Here we are!” you declared. “Place the artifact on its rightful throne.”
Steve grabbed the tape from your hand, muttering something about your flair for the dramatic as he slid it onto the shelf. When he turned back to you, you were already holding up the next tape.
“Ready for the next one?” you asked, wiggling the VHS case.
Steve let out a long-suffering sigh but grabbed the cart handle again, a reluctant grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “This is going to be the longest close ever.”
“Yeah, but you’re having fun,” you teased.
He didn’t respond, but the way his lips twitched into a full smile as he started pushing again gave you all the answer you needed.
Steve pushed the cart into the Drama aisle, his grip on the handle loose as he rolled his eyes at your smug expression. You waved The Breakfast Club over your head like a trophy, already looking triumphant.
“Drama section, as requested,” he said, stopping with a slight flourish. “But I’m just saying… it could also go in Romance.”
You nearly fell off the cart from how hard you laughed. “Romance? That’s what you got out of it? You think it’s about Claire and Bender hooking up?”
Steve raised a brow, his hands moving to his hips in that classic, I’m about to defend myself stance. “What? No, that’s not all it’s about. But it is a part of it. Opposites attract, right?”
You tilted your head, grinning like you’d just been handed the perfect opportunity to roast him. “Oh, sure. Opposites attract. That’s definitely a trope worth rooting for,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Especially when it’s just code for ‘the weird girl has to completely change herself to be worth the jock’s attention.’”
Steve frowned, clearly thrown off. “You’re talking about the makeover thing?”
“Obviously,” you said, flopping dramatically against the back of the cart, the metal sides rattling under your weight. “She was perfectly fine as she was—better, even. Then suddenly she gets some preppy glow-up, and boom, Emilio Estevez notices her. It’s such crap.”
He was quiet for a beat, like he was actually chewing on your words. His lips pressed into a line, and then, unexpectedly, he nodded. “I mean… I agree with you. She looked out of place like that. It wasn’t really her.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “Wait… you agree with me?”
“Yeah,” Steve said, shrugging. “I mean, she didn’t need all that. She was cooler before.”
Something about the way he said it made your stomach flip. His tone wasn’t teasing or defensive—it was sincere. He looked at you with this genuine expression, like he actually cared about what you thought. The space between you suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier.
For a moment, neither of you said anything, and the quiet made your skin prickle in a way you weren’t used to.
Then Steve broke the tension with a smirk, shifting back to lean casually against the handle of the cart. “So, what I’m hearing is… you must hate Grease too, huh? Sandy changes everything for Danny at the end. That must drive you nuts.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, sitting up straighter and gripping the sides of the cart like you were preparing for battle. “Oh, don’t get me started on Grease, Harrington.”
His grin widened, and he gestured with one hand for you to continue, clearly enjoying this way too much. “By all means, let it out. This should be good.”
You took a deep breath, ready to launch into a full tirade about the crime that was Sandy’s transformation, while Steve leaned against the cart, laughing softly under his breath before you’d even said a word.
---
Steve jiggled the lock on the front doors, pulling them to test if they were secure before flipping off the outside lights. The neon "OPEN" sign fizzled out with a soft hum, leaving the store bathed in the sterile glow of its overhead fluorescents. He sighed as he turned the "CLOSED" sign around and shot a glance your way.
You were standing at the counter, finishing up the register deposit you’d started early since the rush had ended hours ago. You hummed quietly to yourself, seemingly in a good mood, which was rare for a late-night shift.
“Got any costume ideas for Halloween?” you asked as you counted the last stack of bills. “Since we get to dress up here and all.”
Steve leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Robin and I are going as pirates,” he said, his voice flat. “Her idea.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Let me guess. She’s all excited, and you’re just going along with it because you have no spine?”
“Pretty much,” he admitted, though there was a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She’s got this whole ‘Captain Robin and First Mate Dingus’ bit planned. It’s exhausting.”
You snorted, finishing the deposit and closing the register drawer. “Well, I’m going as a devil. Simple, classic, but I gotta tone it down a little so Keith doesn’t spend the entire shift staring at my chest.”
Steve went stiff for a moment, muttering something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch.
“What?” you asked, glancing up at him.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, straightening. “So, uh, are you done with that?”
“Just about,” you said, locking the deposit bag and setting it aside for the morning shift. Your eyes drifted to the cart in the middle of the store, still loaded with a few stray tapes. “Looks like we’re not done with that, though.”
Steve followed your gaze and sighed. “Oh, great. More cart rides.”
You grinned, hopping back onto the cart and gesturing for him to take the handle. “You’re the one who insisted on delegating, remember? Now push.”
With another sigh—this one more dramatic than the first—Steve complied, wheeling you toward the horror section. You rifled through the tapes on the cart, calling out titles as he brought you to the correct spots. It went smoothly until you reached for the next tape and froze, reading the title aloud before you could stop yourself.
“Blondes in Heat?” you said, eyebrows shooting up. Your gaze darted to the rest of the tapes on the cart. “Oh, no.”
Steve groaned, already knowing what was coming. “Yeah, I’ll take care of those.”
You shook your head, holding up the tape with a smirk. “It’s fine, I can do it.”
“Seriously,” Steve said, his tone a little sharper. “I’ll handle it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you said, shrugging. “I’ve seen porn before, Steve.”
His eyes widened, and he stumbled over his words for a second before recovering. “What—you—you’ve—okay, I mean—”
“Relax, Harrington,” you said, clearly amused at his reaction. “You’re not the only person in Hawkins with a VHS player and curiosity.”
Steve rubbed the back of his neck, his face slightly pink. “I wasn’t—okay, fine. Just—don’t make it weird.”
You laughed, waving him off. “It’s not weird. Now push the cart.”
Grumbling something under his breath, Steve resumed pushing, steering you toward the back corner of the store where the beaded curtain waited. The clinking of the beads was just faint enough to make you second-guess the idea, but you straightened your shoulders and braced yourself. The cart rattled slightly as Steve slowed, and you gave him a look over your shoulder.
“C’mon, Harrington. It’s just tapes.”
The dim lighting of the ‘adult’ section made the whole thing feel way more awkward than it should have been. You broke the silence once more as Steve pushed the cart, and you, to one of the corners and had you hand him the tapes.
“You know, a place called ‘Family Video’ having a section for porn is a little weird.” You say as he shelves Blondes in Heat.
“Can you stop saying porn?” he sighs over his shoulder before walking back to you.
"Oh, I'm sorry. What would you rather me call it? The erotic arts? Adult features?"
"Just shut up," Steve says, but you can hear the smile in his voice.
You hand him the next tape, which you had been staring at with an amused smirk. "How to Satisfy a Woman in Six Minutes or Less? Really?"
Steve groaned. "God, you're such a pain."
"I'm just saying. Unrealistic. Also why the rush?"
"Oh, my God. Shut up!" Steve says, trying not to laugh.
"What? I'm being serious! Six minutes is a lot to ask. That's barely any time for foreplay, and I don't think anyone wants a half-assed—"
"I am not talking about sex with you!" he says, a little too loudly.
You bite back a laugh. "Why not? It's not weird. I'm sure it's not even the most awkward conversation you've had this week."
He turns, an eyebrow raised. "Oh, really?"
"Uh-huh. Remember when Robin told you and Dustin the difference between tampons and pads?"
Steve visibly winced at the memory. "Okay, fair point."
"See? Not weird," you said, handing him the next tape.
"Yeah, sure," Steve said, rolling his eyes as he took the tape and glanced at the cover. Then his eyes went wide, and his whole body seemed to freeze.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, trying to peek at the case. "Don't tell me it's worse than the last one. Oh, is it—"
"It's nothing," Steve said quickly, cutting you off as he turned away.
"Uh-uh," you said, jumping off the cart and walking around so you could see the front. "I want to see."
"No, no way."
"If it's really nothing, then why can't I see it?" you challenged, crossing your arms.
"Because I said so!" Steve shot back, his voice high and panicked.
"Fine. Hand it over," you demanded, holding out your hand.
"No."
"Yes."
"No, really, I—"
"Steven Harrington," you snapped, your patience running thin. "If you don't give me that tape right now, I will—"
"Alright, fine! Just stop yelling," Steve sighed, relenting as he shoved the tape into your hand. You stared at him, surprised.
"I yelled once."
"Still."
"Whatever."
You glanced down, and immediately, you felt your own body freeze. In a flash, the situation felt way too real.
Because staring up at you from the tape cover was an image of a girl who could've been you, if her hair was a different color. A girl, sprawled out on her back, naked. The camera angle was positioned above her, the lens angled to give the viewer a full view of her body—her face, her breasts, her legs spread wide.
Your face was on fire, your mouth suddenly dry. Beside you, Steve shifted nervously, and it occurred to you that you were both just staring silently at a porno tape that was clearly made for a specific audience.
"Uh... this is awkward," you finally managed, your voice a little hoarse.
Steve made a sound that was half laugh, half strangled cry. "Yeah, I could've done without the reminder, honestly."
You shot him a confused look. "Reminder?"
He waved his hands in front of him, clearly flustered. "No, that's not what I meant. I just meant—forget it. Forget I said anything. Can we please move on?"
"Not yet," you said, narrowing your eyes. "What do you mean, reminder? Is there a girl in pornos who looks like me or something?"
"Uh... maybe," Steve said, wincing. "But it's not weird, or whatever. It's totally normal. I just... happened watch this one. I wasn't trying to... or anything. I didn't realize..."
He was rambling, and it was kind of adorable. But there was also something about his nervous energy that made your skin prickle in the best way.
"So, if I look like this girl..." you said, letting the words hang as you tilted your head and met his gaze, which was locked onto yours.
"Yeah?" he breathed, swallowing thickly.
You stepped closer, holding his gaze. "Does that mean you've thought about me like that?"
"What?" Steve said, his voice cracking. "No. No way. Of course not. Why would I—"
"Liar."
Your tone was gentle, playful. It was a challenge, not an accusation. Steve's lips parted slightly, but he didn't respond, his eyes still locked on yours. You tried to keep a straight face, but you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you.
"You know- just give me that." Steve said, snatching the tape back. You watched him shove it onto the shelf, the movement quick and jerky.
"Hey, I'm just teasing! It's not that serious." You say, hands up in mock defense as you walk backwards and hop back up to sit on the cart.
"Shut up," he muttered, his cheeks flushed.
You bit your lip, unable to stop grinning. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself."
"Yeah, well, it's not funny."
You tilted your head, watching him as he fiddled with the shelf, his eyes not meeting yours. There was a vulnerability there, and a hint of shame. He looked almost hurt.
"Okay, seriously," you said, leaning forward and catching his gaze. "I didn't mean to actually upset you."
You hand him the next tape, attempting to make a joke about the absurd cover, but he just gives a noncommittal shrug. You frown.
"Steve, come on," you say, trying again. "I was just playing around. If it's really bothering you, I'll stop."
"It's not that," he said, shaking his head.
"Then what is it?"
He looked away, his jaw tight. You waited, giving him the space to say what he needed to. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, his words heavy with frustration.
"It's stupid," he said, still not meeting your gaze. "I just... we never talk about this stuff, okay? And then, the first time we do, it's because you think I'm some perv who gets off on looking at girls who look like you."
You blinked, caught off guard. "I... did not think that."
"Well, you should have," he snapped, turning to face you fully, his eyes burning. "Because that's how everyone thinks of me, isn't it? Steve Harrington, the former king of Hawkins High, screwing anything that moves."
You swallowed, not knowing what to say. Naturally, you went with humor to deflect.
"I mean if it helps, I've seen your luck with women lately, so I definitely don't think that..."
"Stop. Just—stop," Steve sighed, sounding exasperated. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. This is all we ever do. We can't have a serious conversation without joking about it, and it drives me insane."
You uncrossed your legs on the cart and let them dangle, leaning back against the wall of tapes, taken aback by his sudden honesty. His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched. You had known each other through school, been friendly since he started at the store in July, but this was the first time he had ever really opened up. It was new, and a little scary, and definitely not something you knew how to deal with.
"I'm sorry," you said quietly, and you meant it. "I didn't know you felt that way."
"Yeah, well," Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not the best at sharing. Ask anyone."
"Hey, I've got no room to talk," you said, smiling a little. "I've kept my walls pretty high too, I think."
"You're not wrong."
The air hung heavy between you. Steve shifted, his eyes darting from the cart to the shelves, clearly feeling just as awkward as you were.
"You know that the person you were in high school doesn't, like, define you right?" you offered, your voice quiet. "Like, I don't think of you as 'King Steve' or anything."
"Really?" he asked, his brow furrowing skeptically.
"Yeah," you said, nodding. "I mean, we work together. I get to see all of you. The Steve who's actually really good at his job, and a surprisingly good teacher when you're helping Robin study, and an actual nerd about movies. Plus, y'know, the dingus pirate."
Steve rolled his eyes but grinned a little.
"And I mean, maybe you'd have better luck if you were that guy when you tried to uh, pick up women. The fake charm kinda just... doesn't work with this version of you."
"Gee, thanks," he said, feigning annoyance.
"No, I mean it in a good way," you assured him. "I think you're more real like this."
He was quiet for a moment, chewing his lip. Then, unexpectedly, he reached for the next tape and you went to grab it from the dwindling stack. You handed him the tape, your fingertips brushing his palm, and a rush of heat flooded your cheeks.
Get it together, you told yourself. You're not suddenly crushing on the guy because he showed a little vulnerability are you?
Steve, oblivious, flipped the case over, studying the cover. "Okay, so this one is... not great," he said, shaking his head. "I've had the misfortune of having to put away more than one."
"Oh, boy," you said, laughing. "I'm ready."
"Okay, here goes," he said, turning the case toward you. "Blonde Bimbo Gets Banged."
"Jesus Christ," you snorted. "Is there any way this can get worse?"
"Let's find out," Steve said, flipping the case back and reading the synopsis. "She's blonde. She's a bimbo. And she knows it. She likes to flaunt her blonde beauty. Her boyfriend knows she's a whore, and that's just the way he likes her. They get wild and hot together, and soon the whole gang is banging the blonde bimbo."
"Jesus Christ how many times do they have to say 'blonde' in one synopsis. Does the target audience have the memory of a goldfish? Does this company need a new marketing team?"
Steve laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, it gets worse. The reviews call this a 'stand-out-of-the-pack classic.'"
"Please don't make me read the rest," you said, waving you hand in front of your face while laughing. "I'm already scarred."
"You wanted to know," Steve said, his lips pressed into a line to keep from laughing.
"You're right. I did. I shouldn't have."
You two fell back into a comfortable silence, and you found yourself studying Steve as he went about his task, staocking the last of the tapes neatly on the shelf. He had always been attractive, but he was starting to feel realer. You could see the details of him now, the cracks and rough edges and the parts of him he'd rather not share. It was a dangerous thought, and you knew it. He was still your coworker, after all. And, maybe, your friend?
You watched him finish shelving the last tape, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly with the movement, and your stomach did a somersault.
Oh no.
Steve turned and noticed you staring. He raised an eyebrow. "What?"
You shook your head. "Nothing. I was just zoned out, I guess."
"Right," he said, clearly unconvinced. But he didn't push it.
"Last one," you say as your got to hand it to him. "And the survey says... oh. Wow."
"What is it?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Oh, no, it's just this is the first time we've actually stocked something decent," you say, turning the case toward him. "Like, this one doesn't make me want to scrub my brain out with soap."
Steve studied the case, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, yeah. I've seen this one."
"Really?" you asked, surprised.
"Yeah, it's actually pretty good," he admitted. "There's, like, a plot and everything."
"You don't say," you said, smirking. "Maybe we should put this in the Romance section."
Steve rolled his eyes, shelving the movie. "Okay, wiseass."
"I'm just saying. Plot, characters, and actual sex? That's practically a Jackie Collins novel."
"Very funny," Steve said, walking back toward the cart. You were still sitting on the edge, the wheels of the cart rattling slightly.
"Huh. We actually got through the whole cart," you said, grinning a little. "Go us."
"Yeah," Steve agreed, leaning his hands against the cart and looking over at the shelf. "That was surprisingly easy."
"We're a pretty good team," you pointed out.
"Yeah, we are."
You leaned back a little, balancing yourself on your hands and studying Steve. He seemed to be doing the same, his gaze locked on yours. The air felt thick, heavy, and somehow electric. You could practically feel the sparks.
"We should, um," Steve swallowed thickly, glancing over at the beaded curtain that led out to the main sales floor. "We should probably get to the front."
"Yeah," you agreed, though neither of you moved.
You held his gaze, and he held yours, the tension between you was overwhelming, and intoxicating, and you could barely breathe.
"You got a deposit to finish..." he whispered, his voice low.
"Yeah, the main lights are still on," you said, your throat dry.
Neither of you moved. You could feel the pull, the urge to close the space, the electricity between you threatening to overload. Your pulse was racing, your skin tingling. You wondered if he could hear the thunder of your heart, if he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips.
"This is dumb," he murmured.
"So dumb," you breathed.
"We're not gonna..."
"Yeah, we're not..."
And then his lips were on yours, and everything else faded away. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle but firm, and the world seemed to stop. His mouth was soft, the kiss slow, lingering. You melted into him, letting him guide the pace, savoring every second. He tasted like coffee and popcorn and something sweet, and the scent of his cologne surrounded you, enveloping you.
When you finally pulled apart, your lips felt swollen, and you were breathless. Your eyes fluttered open, and you stared at each other, the air crackling around you.
"We are so fucking dumb," he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours, a small, amused smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
You laughed, feeling giddy. "The dumbest. We should probably stop."
"Probably," he murmured. But his lips found yours again, his hand drifting into your hair, his fingers curling. You grabbed a fistful of his uniform vest, pulling him closer. He pressed into you, the pressure of him against your chest, between your legs, made your body ache. You moaned softly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue darting along your lower lip. You could feel his smirk as your lips parted, giving him access to the rest of your mouth. His tongue grazed yours, teasing, exploring. His free hand ran up the outside of your leg, his palm hot on your thigh even through the denim of your jeans. You arched against him, craving the friction, the feel of his weight, and he pushed back.
You tugged on his vest, and without breaking the kiss, he clumsily shed it and tossed it aside, his arms then circling your waist. Your hands slid under the hem of his shirt, and you shivered at the contact with his bare skin. He sucked on your lower lip, making you gasp. Your fingertips dug into the muscle of his back, and he pressed harder into you. His body was solid, but soft, and he still held you so carefully. You wanted more of him, all of him, everything.
One of his hands moved to you shoulder to take the same hideous Family Video vest off of you. He broke the kiss only to make sure that he didn't rip it or pop one of your many pins off while doing so, putting it on the bottom of the cart. The careful action made you giggle. He smiled down at you before capturing your mouth in another heated kiss. You pressed your tongue into his mouth this time, running it along his bottom lip. He moaned softly, pulling you even tighter against him.
Your fingers raked down his back, nails grazing the smooth skin, and he moaned into your mouth, grinding his hips into you. The friction of him between your legs sent a shiver of pleasure through your whole body, and you groaned. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading your legs so that he could fit himself perfectly against you. He pressed hard, his body hot between your thighs, his chest pressed to your chest, his mouth on your mouth.
He rocked his hips into you, the slow friction driving you wild, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding on as he pressed his full weight against you, pinning you on the cart between him and the shelves. Your fingers gripped his shoulders as he moved again, his hands moving down to grip your hips. You could feel his arousal growing, and you shifted to match his pace, his hips rolling into you as yours rocked up to meet them, creating the perfect amount of friction, the pressure building with every thrust. You whimpered against his mouth as his fingers dug into your thighs.
"God, I want you," he breathed between kisses, his voice husky, sending a fresh wave of heat through your core.
"We—we have to—" you gasped, your words catching in your throat as he ground against you again, his fingers digging into your skin.
"Yeah," he breathed, nodding. His hands moved to your waist, pushing your shirt up and running his palms up the exposed skin, his thumbs grazing the soft skin of your stomach that that swelled gently over the waistband of your jeans, his touch reverent as he let his thumbs trace lazy circles there. You pulled away at the contact, suddenly feeling self concious with his hands on your exposed skin.
"Woah.. is this okay?" he asked, his voice a little strained. "If you're not—"
"It's not you, it's just..." you swallowed, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "I've never been with someone... like you before. Someone who... has expectations..."
His hands slid out from under your shirt as he took a step back, confusion on his face. "Wait, what?"
"I mean," you continued, struggling to find the right words, "You're so attractive, and I'm..." You gestured to your body with an open palm, not even able to find the words to express how self-concious you were about your body compared to the girls that usually got his attention. "You know," you finally added. "Me. So... I mean, I just want you to be sure, because..."
Steve's eyebrows pulled together in concern, his voice suddenly very serious. "What are you talking about?"
"You know what I mean."
"No," he shook his head. "No, I really don't."
You stared at him for a moment, surprised, and then your eyes dropped to your hands, which were clasped in front of you. Your nails had been painted black with silver glitter, and the edges of your fingertips were rough, worn down from anxiously picking at them for so many years. Your thighs, while sat on the cart, pressed together, the soft curve of them spilling slightly over the edge, a reminder of how you never felt like you fit the mold of what guys like Steve usually went for. You thought about the way your jeans pinched at your waist or how you always avoided certain angles in photos because they made your arms look bigger than you liked. Your stomach churned at the idea of him seeing all of you—every mark, every curve, every imperfection that you’d tried so hard to ignore but couldn’t help cataloging in moments like this.
“I just…” you started again, your voice quieter now, “I don’t want you to feel like this is a mistake. Like maybe the weird girl is hot when you're at work, but in the real world...” You trailed off, biting your lip hard to keep it from trembling.
Steve crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his hands gentle as they rested on your thighs, grounding you. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady but insistent. “Look at me.”
When your eyes finally met his, the warmth in his expression nearly unraveled you. “You think I’m going to change my mind just because we take our clothes off? I'm rock hard in the middle of an adult section that smells like stale popcorn, and you think that's going to go away when your clothes are off? Really?" He asked incredulously, pausing to laugh at his own words. "That's pretty bold of you to assume."
Your breath hitched at the words. At his touch. The way his voice softened around your name. "Steve..."
"Seriously," he said, leaning a little closer. His voice was quiet now, almost a whisper, and his eyes darted between your eyes and your lips, his hands still gently kneading your thighs. "It's you that should be careful. I mean... I can barely focus on anything when you're just standing around in these jeans," he admitted, his eyes moving to your legs, his palms slowly moving up the curve of them. You bit your lip, heat flaring low in your stomach. "But naked?" His eyes returned to yours, his voice suddenly rough. "I wouldn't stand a chance."
Before you could even respond, he closed the distance, pressing his mouth to yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, his hands gently kneading the tops of your thighs. You moaned softly at his touch, your arms sliding over his shoulders and tangling in his hair as you melted against him. He wrapped one arm around you, pulling you to him, the other hand sliding up your waist.
"Now," he whispered against your lips as he went to lift your shirt a little again. "Can I continue where I left off, please?"
You smiled, kissing him in reply. You parted your lips, deepening the kiss. He moaned against your lips, his hand slowly trailing up your waist again, lifting your shirt up more this time. Your body tingled in anticipation of his hands on your skin, his fingertips warm on your bare stomach, slowly trailing up to your ribs, then higher still, his thumb brushing the edge of the cup of your bra.
Your head tipped back as he broke the kiss to trace his tongue over your collar bone, then dipped lower, his breath hot on the exposed skin as his thumb gently brushed your nipple through your bra, your back arching slightly at the sensation. He pressed another kiss to your throat, and you moaned as his hand dipped under your bra, cupping your breast and kneading the soft skin.
You slid a hand under his shirt, trailing your fingertips across his waist, tracing the trail of hair that lead lower, the muscles in his stomach contracting at your touch. His hand on your waist tugged at the hem of your shirt, and you took the hint, reluctantly pulling away for a moment to peel the fabric over your head. Steve let out a low groan at the sight of you in your bra, and you smiled shyly, letting him take a moment to appreciate your newly exposed skin. His hand went to the back of your neck, his touch firm, grounding as he leaned in to kiss you again. His free hand found its way to your other breast, palming it and gently tugging your bra strap down.
You were both panting now, his fingers on you and your fingers on him, and your whole body throbbing for more. You ran your palm along the front of his jeans, feeling the outline of him straining against the denim. His mouth left yours and moved to the skin above your bra as his hand left your chest and fumbled for the clasp at your back. You ran your nails over the front of his jeans, your own pulse racing. You had to touch him, you had to see him. Your fingers found his belt, but it was difficult to work with his hands on you and your mind a haze of arousal and nerves.
He seemed to be having the same problem, because after a few more attempts he stopped trying to work your bra clasp and tugged impatiently at the fabric, his voice husky.
"This—can you take this off? Or should we move? Because I can't—"
"Here," you gasped, shifting slightly and turning so your back was to him. "Try again."
Steve hummed softly in acknowledgement, his breath tickling your shoulder as he worked to free you from the offending fabric, his touch feather light and torturously slow. You leaned forward a little, letting your hair fall in a curtain over your face so he wouldn't see how much his teasing was affecting you. But you could feel the wetness between your legs, the ache of anticipation making your knees weak. Finally, with a quiet, satisfied noise, he freed you from your bra, and you sat back against the self again, letting your hair swing back to frame your face again as you watched his reaction to your body.
Steve's mouth dropped open at the sight of you, the slow grin tugging at his lips doing nothing to ease the ache.
"Well, this isn't fair," he breathed, standing straighter with one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair, as if to calm himself down. He looked over you as you leaned back, braced against your elbows. He then let out a long, deep exhale, his hands moving back to take his own shirt off. He paused about halfway through the motion to peer down at you, looking a little ridiculous with the collar halfway up his face, one arm free.
"Oh shit, sorry, did you want my shirt off too, or did you want me to leave it on, or—"
"Shirt. Off. Please," you said quickly. Steve grinned and finished the motion, tugging the tshirt off and letting it hit the floor. Your eyes darted to his torso, his skin flushed and his chest heaving slightly from the anticipation. He had a nice, lean build, with broad shoulders and a surprisingly strong-looking core. His chest hair was a light dusting that trailed across his pecs and tapered into a faint line down the center of his stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. It added to his charm, giving him an effortlessly masculine edge. Your fingers twitched with the urge to touch him, to feel the softness of his skin under your palms, to trace the faint lines of his muscles beneath.
He definitely noticed you staring because he started grinning again, and when you noticed, he laughed a little. "What? Never seen a guy naked before?" he asked teasingly, making a joke of it to cover up the fact that he was suddenly a little self conscious under your scrutiny.
"You're beautiful." It spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it, and he looked surprised by the sincerity. His hands froze in mid-air and his eyes darted to yours. He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out, so instead he cleared his throat and grinned shyly at the ground.
"Okay," he said, clearly trying to collect himself, and you realized that he'd been flustered. By you. A wave of pride flooded your stomach, and you bit your lip as your smile grew wider. You weren't usually so forward, and it had surprised you too, but you were glad it came out. "Okay. Let me just, uh, find my brain."
"You left it over there, on the floor. With your shirt." You smirked at him and his eyes narrowed at the playful teasing. He bent down to place both his hands on either side of you on the cart, caging you in as he leaned closer to you and pressed his forehead to yours. He gave a slight push of his hips against you, just to make you aware of how much you were affecting him, before cupping one of your breasts in his hand and letting out a breath. He took your nipple in his fingers and rolled it gently. You moaned at his touch, your thighs spreading a little wider.
The sound was affirmation enough for him to take your other nipple in his mouth, and you leaned into his touch as he circled his tongue around you. His teeth grazed over it, biting just slightly and making you whimper with need. You could feel him smirk against your skin, and he slid his free hand down to your stomach, then lower. His fingers grazed over your jeans and pressed firmly against you through the thick denim.
He paused with his hand right above your waistband and he lifted his head to look into your eyes. He was clearly trying to make sure that he wasn't overstepping any boundaries and was silently asking for permission to keep going.
"You can always say no." His voice was barely more than a whisper as his fingers played with the button of your pants, not wanting to rush you.
You didn't hesitate, just leaned into him and whispered, "Please touch me. Please."
He gave a low groan, pressing a hard kiss to your lips and biting down on your lower lip, before breaking away and dropping his gaze to your jeans. You watched, biting your lip as he flicked open the button, pulling down the zipper, and slipping his fingers underneath the fabric of both your jeans and your underwear. He dragged a single finger over the slick, swollen heat between your legs, and you let out a shaky breath. He sucked in a breath, clearly affected, and then dipped his finger lower to stroke along your entrance. You shivered, letting out a low moan and trying to pull him closer.
You felt his breath hot on your shoulder as his other hand moved to tug the rest of your pants off, giving him easier access to you.
"So wet already," he breathed, and the feel of his lips moving against the soft skin of your shoulder made your thighs twitch, the tension of anticipation nearly overwhelming. He traced circles around your entrance with one finger before pushing in slowly. His movements were cautious at first, gauging your reaction as he worked up a slow pace. But it wasn't enough, not when you'd been craving the release for what felt like forever. You spread your thighs, trying to pull him closer.
"More," you breathed, gripping his wrist to guide him deeper, faster, harder. Steve gave a low moan as his finger curled inside you, finding that one spot that made your whole body ache with pleasure. He added a second finger, pushing deep and pumping into you again and again as you ground your hips up to meet him, chasing the feeling, desperate for more. You looked up to find him watching you, his lips parted and his pupils blown wide.
He leaned down to kiss you again, and the change in angle sent a new wave of heat through your core, a whimper escaping you. His free hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you into him and holding you steady as he pressed his thumb to your clit. You cried out at the new sensation, and Steve broke the kiss to let you breathe, his lips still pressed against yours, your breath mingling in the space between. His eyes locked on yours, he curled his fingers again and began working them in earnest, the heel of his palm pressed hard against you as his fingers pushed deeper and deeper with every thrust.
The pleasure was building, every nerve on fire as your orgasm neared, every stroke of his hand, every graze of his thumb making the tension build higher. His fingers moved faster, and you moaned his name, clinging to his shoulder, his arm, your hips rising to meet his hand.
"You're like...way too good at this..." You breathed between whimpers. Steve grinned, slowing his movements and teasing you.
"Well, I do have a pretty decent reputation..."
You gave a frustrated growl at the sudden slow down.
"Steve," you whined.
He chuckled softly. "Mm-mm," he hummed against your ear, nipping at it as he slowly slid his fingers out. "Not so fast."
"Are you... you're really doing this? Now?" you panted, incredulous. You needed more of him, more of his touch, more of the release you had been so close to, but now he was denying you? You opened your eyes, watching as he grinned down at you while he began to unbutton his jeans, still wearing a smug expression as he slowly pushed them down over his hips and down his legs. Your eyes darted from his face to the obvious bulge in his boxers as you swallowed.
"You want to keep complaining?" He asked, pulling down the boxers a little before taking himself in his hand and slowly pumping once, twice. His eyes never left yours, the grin you were used to seeing every day coming back "Because we can stop."
You couldn't even pretend to be angry as your gaze flicked between his face and his cock.
"Oh. You are... that's..." you stammered, taking a second to drink in the sight of him, so close but still so far from where you needed him. The smug grin turned genuine at your reaction and he pumped himself a few more times as if he was putting on a show for you. He let go of himself to slide his boxers all the way down and then stepped out of them to kick them to the side. He put his hands on sides of the cart and gave it a small shove, testing its durability, which illicited a small laugh from you.
"What's wrong? Not confident that we can stay in one piece for a few more minutes?" You teased. He scoffed in mock offense, giving you a quick kiss that lingered as he pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth.
"It's just precaution. Don't want you complaining if I get too excited and end up breaking this thing." He pulled away slowly, looking at the cart for a moment, thinking. "Actually, maybe I can—"
You wrapped a leg around his waist before he could finish his thought, pulling him to you so he was nestled perfectly against your hips. "You could also start with taking these off me," you suggested, grabbing the sides of your panties and tugging at the fabric. Steve let out a breath, his hands immediately moving to help you, though his mind was clearly distracted by what he wanted to do next. You watched as he pulled down the fabric over your hips, then your thighs, before dropping it on top of your jeans. His eyes trailed over the newly exposed skin, a look of pure desire on his face, his gaze hungry.
"God," he breathed. "You are..."
But you never found out what he was going to say, because your impatient hands had found him again, and you were pumping him slowly, watching him shiver in anticipation. His fingers dug into your hips, his mouth dropping open slightly, his gaze locked on yours as you moved, letting the feeling of your touch overwhelm him for a moment before he pulled your hand away with a small chuckle.
"Fuck. I almost forgot..." He bent to find his jeans and fished around in his back pocket. When he pulled his wallet free, your eyes went wide as you realized what he was getting. He held the square, foil wrapper in front of him.
You raised an eyebrow at him as he went to open the wrapper with his teeth.
"You brought a condom to work with you? Why would you ever think you'd need it here? In Family Video?" You questioned as he opened the packet, spitting the excess foil to the side, before looking at you with a lopsided smile.
"What, you think I put it there just in case we ran out of videos to restock? I had it there for after work one day, just in case," he explained as if it was the most obvious thing. You rolled your eyes, smiling and giving a slight laugh. "I mean, not with you. Not like... I had it there just in case I went on a date." He paused to wince a little. "Wait, no, that doesn't sound any better, does it?"
"I get what you're trying to say," you reassured him as you laughed a little harder, before the conversation took a slightly serious turn.
You glanced between the condom he was holding in his hand, and him. He was hard, aching even, and he looked desperate for your touch. You felt a small wave of pride that you could turn him on so much, and that you had the opportunity to be with him like this. To touch him and be touched.
You licked your lips, then said, "Put it on."
You felt like a teenager again, waiting with bated breath while he carefully slipped on the condom, his own breath shuddering as his fingers moved along his cock. When he finished, he leaned over you, caging you against the shelf once again with his arms on either side of your waist.
"For the record, I was hoping to take you on a date before… this happened. After work some time. Y'know, really take you out. Watch a movie with you, get dinner, go back to my car," He whispered the last bit into your ear, before kissing it gently and adding, "maybe get you in the backseat. But we can save that for another night."
You were too caught up in the feel of him against you to fully process what he just implied. A second night. This wouldn't just be a one time thing, you'd get to do this again... and maybe more?
Before you could react to that, you felt Steve line up at your entrance and your brain seemed to go on autopilot, your focus shifting to how you were about to get exactly what you needed. Your legs parted a little more, your heels resting against the lower shelves for leverage, your back arching slightly so your chest pressed against his. He paused there, looking down at you for a moment. Your breath caught at his expression—he was watching you intently, his gaze fixed on your face, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed.
"You want this, right?" The genuine question took you aback. The vulnerability was back in his eyes, and it suddenly became clear to you how nervous he was. "I just want to be sure this isn't—"
"Steve," you said, cupping his face in your hand. "Yes. I want this."
His breath left him in a rush as his lips curled into a smile, his relief clear. Then he gave a slight push of his hips and began to slide into you. His cock started to stretch you out, his length filling you inch by inch, and you whimpered at the feeling, the sensation of him inside you so overwhelming after having gone so long without being with anyone yourself. Steve stopped, his head falling to your shoulder as he groaned.
"Oh, god... you feel... Jesus, you're—" he was breathing hard, his chest pressed to yours, his hands gripping the shelf. His cock pulsed inside you, and you were trembling from the tension of it, the sweet ache of being filled, the need to have him buried in you fully. You slid your hands up his back and wrapped your arms around him, holding him as close to you as possible. He let out a ragged breath, then pressed a soft kiss to the curve of your neck, just below your jaw.
"Are you okay? Is it too much? We can stop—"
"I'm okay, just please—"
"What? Anything, just say—"
"Please keep going. Please," you whimpered. Your thighs twitched around him and you tried to pull him deeper, your body aching for him, for release. The angle was different and new, and it felt incredible. "I need more... please, I want you, all of you... "
Your words spurred him on. His mouth found your neck, sucking lightly at the spot just below your ear as he slowly thrust deeper, and deeper, until he was buried inside you. You felt your inner muscles stretch to accommodate his size, the pressure making you gasp as your legs quivered and your body flushed. Steve groaned, his breathing ragged, his body taut as he waited for you to adjust, every muscle in his back tense.
"God, I don't know how long I can hold out," he whispered.
"Then don't," you said. Your nails dug into his skin and you clenched around his cock. Steve bit down on your shoulder as he began to thrust in long, hard strokes, the friction making your legs tremble as you tried to keep up.
He pressed you to him, his arm looped under your waist, pulling you down on his length, the slow slide making you see stars. His hand snaked down between you, finding your clit and stroking you as he began to pick up the pace, the pressure building with every thrust. His moans were quieter now, more breathy as he drove into you over and over, the rhythm steady as he fucked you in time to the thud of the shelf against the wall.
You could feel yourself approaching the edge, every nerve tingling, every inch of you burning for release. The pressure of his body on yours, the way he moved, his moans, his scent, his hands—everything was pushing you higher, faster. His cock twitched inside you and you moaned, your own orgasm building with every stroke, every thrust, every touch. His pace became more erratic as you moved against him, your legs spread, your back arched, the angle deep and intense.
"I'm... fuck, I'm going to..." he managed between pants. "I want you... to come first..."
The way his voice shook, his hips stuttering with the effort of holding himself back, made your chest swell. He wanted you to finish before him, he wanted you to feel good. And it did, it felt good—so good, too good. Your heart hammered in your chest, the pressure of it making you feel like it might burst. He pushed harder, his fingers moving faster on your clit.
"Steve—" His name escaped your lips, breathy, as your body started to unravel. The tension in your core built higher, your hips jerking, the shelf hitting the wall harder. Your vision blurred as a wave of pleasure rolled through you, and you gasped his name again as you came around him, your body shuddering. Your muscles clamped down hard, making his pace stutter as he tried to push through. Steve groaned, his forehead resting on yours, his fingers digging into your side. He kept his pace even, thrusting through the aftershocks and holding you through your release, his mouth hovering near yours as he panted and moaned. You slid your arms to his back and raked your nails down, dragging your hands across the planes of his body, reveling in how his muscles twitched as your touch moved along his spine and to his ass, and you pulled him in deeper.
The angle was different now, the pressure intense as his pace sped up and he started chasing his own orgasm, his cock filling you up completely and sliding against every inch of you, sending another wave of pleasure through you. He looked so beautiful above you, his hair disheveled and falling in front of his face, his expression pinched as his pace increased. You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull him closer and pressed a soft kiss to his neck. The tender touch made him shiver, and he pushed in hard and fast, his whole body going tense as his cock pulsed, the waves of his own release flooding through him. He moaned softly and your name tumbled from his lips.
For a moment you stayed there, his arms around you, his face pressed into your shoulder. Then, as the aftershocks ebbed away, he pulled out, giving you one last slow stroke as he did so. The loss of his touch made you whimper. You felt so empty now, aching for him, and you couldn't help but feel a little vulnerable at the thought of him pulling away from you. Steve stayed close for a moment longer, kissing you softly, tenderly, and you could feel your heart clench. He wasn't rushing off, he wasn't pushing you away. He was taking care of you.
Your body hummed with the lingering buzz of pleasure as Steve pulled off the condom, knotted the end, and threw it into the wastebasket in the corner, grinning proudly when it landed in the trash.
"Nice," he said, nodding as if impressed with himself. "And with my left hand, no less. Maybe I should have tried for pro basketball."
He was being a dingus again. A post-sex dingus, but still, a dingus. And it was such a relief.
"Mmhmm," you hummed, watching him carefully as he found his discarded clothing on the ground and began getting dressed. You had no idea what would come after, what the dynamic of things would be. What were the rules here? The guys you'd been with in the past didn't stick around to help you get dressed. You just put on your clothes, left the guys to clean up their mess, and went home.
"So," you said, taking your time to gather your own clothes from the bottom of the cart, putting your underwear on first. "Now what?"
He gave you a small grin, buttoning his pants as you grabbed your bra. "Now..." he trailed off, as if in thought. You slipped your bra over your arms, reaching back to do the clasps as best you could with limited reach. Steve noticed you struggling, and stepped towards you. He reached a hand up, motioning for you to turn around so that he could help you.
You did as he instructed, turning so that he had easy access to the hooks. His fingers grazed along the skin on your back as he slowly clasped each of them together. Once he finished, his hands slid up to your shoulders and he turned you around to face him again. You smiled up at him as you continued to put on your bra, adjusting yourself slightly. He didn't pull back right away. He kept his hands on you, running his thumbs across the fabric on your shoulders, a content smile on his face as he stared at you.
"What is it?" you asked, noticing that he seemed to be stuck in his head. He didn't answer you right away. His smile widened and he leaned down, kissing you gently. It was so soft and slow, that you forgot what you had asked him to begin with. All you could think about was his mouth on yours, and his hands on your waist, and the smell of his cologne and sweat, and the way his hair was completely messed up. He pulled away after a moment and you blinked, dazed.
"Nothing," he answered after what seemed like forever. "Just... this."
"This?" you asked. You could feel your heart racing again. He was still smiling, and he kissed you once more before pulling away and reaching down to pick up his shirt.
"This. You and me," he said, as if the answer was obvious. He pulled his shirt over his head and cocked his head at you as you began to put your jeans on, not answering. "Unless you didn't... I mean, I kind of assumed... unless you just wanted to forget this happened? That's not really my thing, but I mean, it's okay, we could pretend if—"
"I like you." It just blurted out of you and he froze, looking surprised. You realized you were holding your breath. He blinked.
"Really?"
"Really. But I mean... I know you like to take girls out, so maybe this was just a—"
"You really don't know me that well, do you?" he laughed. Your heart was hammering.
"What do you mean?" you asked cautiously. You'd said too much. He was going to take it back now. You knew he would.
"I mean..." he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, but he didn't look like he wanted to back down. "I'm not just gonna... y'know, get with you at work and then bail on you. I like you, I like... being around you. A lot. I wanna keep doing it. Just in other places. Like outside of this shithole. And definitely without my uniform on. I mean, unless you're into that. I could probably bring my uniform home."
Your mind was going in about twenty directions at once, and it took you a second to process what he'd just said. He'd never... he liked being around you. And he wanted to take you out. You realized your mouth was open slightly and you closed it, biting your lip and feeling a wave of relief.
"You like me?" you repeated. "Not... you actually want to be around me?"
Steve stared at you for a second, a mix of disbelief and concern on his face, like you were the biggest idiot in the world for doubting him. Then his eyes narrowed, like he'd suddenly understood. He grabbed your waist again and pulled you back into him, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Are you telling me I'm so bad at flirting you didn't realize I've had a crush on you for the past four months? Are you kidding me?" He laughed a little at that. "You're actually insane. I thought it was so obvious..."
"I... what?" you stammered. "No! I had no idea."
"I mean," Steve started, pulling away slightly as he began to run through the list of times he'd been blatantly obvious in his interest for you, "I'm always trying to spend more time with you, asking you about yourself, finding stupid ways to make you smile or laugh or just... you know... pay attention to you... and like, the way I talk about you. Robin constantly call me out on it." He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up a little more, which somehow only added to how endearing he looked.
"Well..." you mumbled, feeling your cheeks redden, "I just thought it was, y'know. Steve Harrington being Steve Harrington. Being a flirt."
Steve stared at you in silence for a moment, looking slightly disappointed that you were that clueless.
"Wait... do you really not know? About—" he looked up to the ceiling, and let out a short huff of air, before he looked back at you with his eyebrows raised. "The flirting, the winking, the talking about my parents not being home? Like... is it actually not obvious?"
Your face fell as you thought back on all the interactions the two of you had over the past few months, trying to pick up on clues. Had you really missed every hint that he had been dropping? You wanted to bury your head in your hands. You wanted the ground to swallow you up. But... he was still here. Still smiling. Still standing close and looking at you with the same interest that he'd had the whole night, since you had walked through the front door.
"You argue with me about everything, though," you said with a laugh, thinking of the many debates that the two of you had over what was a good movie, what was a bad one, which character in a movie was the hottest, if the latest rom com was really that good (spoiler: it wasn't), or even over the smallest, dumbest things that didn't even matter. "If I hadn't known you, I'd think that we just didn't like each other."
"That's just the chemistry," Steve shrugged, "You think I argue with all my coworkers about every little thing? Please." He chuckled as you blushed and shook your head, before he took another step closer to you, closing the distance between the two of you. "I like getting a rise out of you. You get so annoyed when you're trying to argue your point but can't think of the words. It's really cute."
You playfully nudged him with your elbow, before you finally put on the last of your clothes. Steve did the same, and when you looked down, you were both fully dressed. There was no trace that either of you had just fucked each other senseless a few moments ago. You glanced back up at him as he adjusted his vest.
"Lets go finish that deposit and then get the hell out of here."
You followed him back to the register, and he took the deposit bag and signed it, passing it to you. He waited patiently as you double checked to make sure that the deposit slip and the money matched. Once everything was correct, he gave a nod.
"Looks good. Ready to lock up?" he asked.
You nodded, and you both went to the breakroom to punch out. He opened the door for you, and you punched out on your time clock and gathered your things. You put your vest in your locker and closed it, turning around to see that Steve had already waited for you, patiently leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. You walked past him and out of the door, flipping the light switch as you walked out.
Whe you were outside the store, Steve locked the doors, then took the key and tossed it up and caught it. He turned and started walking backwards in the direction of the parking lot, as you headed to the bike rack to unlock your bike. Steve turned around, thinking you were right behind him and when he saw you at the bike rack, he spoke again.
"What are you doing? Are you riding that?"
"Um. Yes?" you raised an eyebrow, giving him a strange look as if to question what his problem was. "That's the plan. It's how I usually get home from work."
"It's freezing and it's late and I'm not letting you ride that back." He was being insistent. "No."
"Um. Yeah? It's really not that bad. I have a coat."
"Get in the car, leave your bike chained up. I have a morning shift tomorrow, I'll make sure it's there" he insisted, "Please? It's already past ten."
"Steve."
"C'mon. Just get in." he shrugged, his keys jingling in his hands. He wasn't going to budge and you were starting to get annoyed.
"It's really not—"
"Get in the damn car already." He rolled his eyes at you, clearly not buying the argument that you could get home by yourself and in one piece. It was dark outside, and a bit chilly, but that wasn't exactly uncommon for Hawkins. You sighed. You knew you wouldn't win this battle and it wasn't worth it to continue to argue.
"Fine. But just for the record, it's not that cold and I would have been fine. You know that."
"Mhm. Sure." Steve grinned, leading the way to the parking lot. When you got there, you stopped and glanced at all the empty cars and he frowned, before he gave a laugh of relief when he saw his BMW in the back corner. He unlocked the doors, you both climbed inside and he started the engine. He drove out of the parking lot, turning right onto the main street. You leaned your head on the window, your mind still spinning with the events of the last hour. Steve Harrington wanted you. You wanted Steve Harrington. This wasn't a one time thing, you could do this again. It was really happening.
As your eyes closed, you thought about the conversation you'd just had and something clicked. Steve's comment about him having a crush on you for months finally sank in. Your head whipped towards Steve in the driver's seat and you stared at him, as if you hadn't seen him in this light before. You couldn't help but stare. He was... perfect. He was absolutely, flawlessly beautiful and you just couldn't believe that someone like him could be so infatuated with someone like you. You leaned back in your seat, watching him carefully as he drove. You felt like you were going to burst, or pass out. You'd never been more attracted to someone before, but there was something else there. It felt more intense, more intense than it had felt before with anyone else. You felt your face turn a few shades of pink again as you thought of him.
The ride to your house wasn't a long one. Hawkins wasn't exactly known for being large, after all, and you didn't live too far from the store. Before you knew it, you were parked on the side of the road right in front of your driveway. You smiled at the sight of the familiar streetlight flickering every now and then. Home.
"Thanks," you mumbled quietly, as Steve put the car in park. "I... I mean... um, yeah, just... thanks." You fidgeted a little with the seatbelt strap and he nodded at you. He didn't move to take his hand off the wheel.
"Yeah... so," Steve gave a slight sigh as he leaned back, finally looking away from the windshield and meeting your eyes again. "Can we go back to talking about the whole you having no clue thing, because... I gotta be honest with you. I don't think I've ever been this embarrassed in my life. You thought I was just..."
You stared at him for a second, watching the way he spoke, watching how animated he was as he explained his side of the story, as if it had actually been some huge deal that you didn't notice him pining over you. The thought of it was... sweet, and it was such a contrast from what you thought you knew about him before. He really cared about how you felt.
"You know that I would never use you, right?" Steve continued. "Like I really like you. I think I made that pretty clear at the store, but like, if I made you uncomfortable or—"
You reached forward and took his hand in yours. You took it gently at first, testing to see his reaction, before he took your hand in return. He glanced down at where your fingers laced together, as his thumb moved over your skin.
"Steve," you interrupted softly, and his head tilted up to look back at you again. He had been rambling.
"Hm?" He asked, clearly unsure of how to react to what you just said. He watched as you brought his hand up to your mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his hand. When your gaze met his again, you smiled, feeling the warmth of your breath on his hand, your nose brushing against him.
"Take me out." It was a request, a gentle demand, as if he didn't know that you would follow him anywhere at this point.
He grinned at that. The idea was definitely appealing. You saw the wheels turning in his head, imagining all the places that you could go on a date. What movies you could see, which ones would be worth sitting through for two hours with you, and which ones wouldn't. You were certain he had the entire month mapped out already.
"Can I pick you up at five on Saturday? There's this drive in theatre down the next town over." Steve offered, his eyes lit up with excitement.
"Yeah, I'm off on Saturday."
"I know. I've been staring at that calendar in the breakroom all week. I know all the dates you have off." Steve explained, as you looked at him in awe, with your mouth hanging open in surprise. "What? I wasn't lying back there. I had been planning to ask you out."
He didn't seem ashamed to admit it either, as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then brushed his fingers over your cheek, as if to check that you were really there. You leaned into the touch and he smiled, letting out a content sigh. He took your hand and pulled you towards him, pressing his lips to your temple.
"I should get inside, my parents are probably wondering why I'm home from work so late." You whispered, looking up at Steve, whose face fell. He pulled you a little closer to him, leaning his head down to meet you, as if he didn't want you to leave.
"Saturday." He said it more to remind himself than to remind you. "I'll pick you up here."
"I'll be ready. Promise." you grinned, and he nodded in confirmation. With that, he gave you one final kiss, pressing his lips gently to yours for what felt like an eternity, but ended up only being about three seconds, before letting you go. He sat back up, putting the car back into drive, as you reached for the door handle.
"Have a good night."
"Yeah. You too." Steve smiled as he put the car back in drive.
---
extra lil bonus scene for the platonic!Stobin lovers:
The next morning at Family Video, Steve leaned lazily against the counter, flipping through a stack of tapes with all the enthusiasm of a kid forced to do summer homework. Robin, meanwhile, was loading the last of the returns into a cart, muttering about how she always got the worst tasks.
“You could at least pretend to help,” Robin said, giving him a pointed look as she pushed the cart toward the back.
“I’m on very important rewinder duty,” Steve replied, smirking as he leaned back against the counter.
Robin rolled her eyes. “You’re on very important doing nothing duty.”
She disappeared into the aisles, her voice carrying back to him as she headed toward the adult section. “Why do I always get stuck with the beaded curtain of doom? I didn’t sign up to alphabetize Hawkins’ finest porn collection !”
“Because you’re the captain, and I’m just a humble first mate,” Steve called after her, grinning to himself.
A moment later, Robin’s horrified yell shattered the calm.
“STEVE!”
Steve’s heart leapt into his throat as he sprinted toward the back, shoving through the beads to find Robin standing stock-still, staring at the trash can with a look of utter disgust.
“What? What’s wrong?” he asked, panting slightly.
Robin pointed at the trash can like it was radioactive. “There is a used condom in the trash can!”
Steve froze, his stomach dropping. “Uh…”
Robin turned to him, her expression a mix of shock and dawning realization. “Wait. Wait. Harrington. No. Tell me you didn’t—”
“I—it’s not what it looks like!” Steve stammered, raising his hands in defense. “I mean, technically, it is what it looks like, but it’s not like that!”
Robin’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God. Oh my God, you and—wait— you and her?! In the adult section?!”
“No! Well… yes. But it wasn’t—it was after close!” Steve groaned, running a hand through his hair, clearly panicking. “And it wasn’t planned ! It just… happened!”
Robin stared at him, blinking slowly. Then, she tilted her head. “So let me get this straight. You, Steve Harrington, had sex here, surrounded by titles like Butt Bandits 3 and Debbie Does Dallas? ”
Steve’s face turned bright red as he buried his face in his hands. “Please don’t say it like that.”
Robin then let out a bark of laughter. “Steve, do you have any idea how lucky you are that I found this and not Keith? Can you even imagine? He’d have a field day!”
Steve groaned again, his face still buried in his hands. “Please, don’t even joke about that.”
“I’m not joking!” Robin said, laughing harder now. “You’d never live it down. He’d probably give you some gross high-five and call you ‘stud’ every time he saw you.”
“God, please stop. I’m already dying of embarrassment.”
Robin folded her arms, a wicked grin on her face. “Oh, I’m not letting you off the hook that easily. Who even does this? At work, Steve? In the adult section? What, were you inspired by the ambiance?”
“It wasn’t planned!” Steve repeated, throwing his head back. “It just… happened!”
Robin smirked. “Oh, I’m sure it just happened. ”
“Robin,” Steve said, glaring at her. “Please. I’m begging you. Just pretend this didn’t happen.”
Robin pretended to consider it, then shrugged. “Fine. But you’re taking the trash out.”
“What? No way!”
“Oh, yes way,” she said, shoving the trash can toward him. “You made this mess. Literally. Now deal with it.”
Steve sighed dramatically, grabbing the trash can and stomping toward the back door as Robin’s laughter echoed behind him.
As he reached the exit, Robin called after him, her voice dripping with amusement. “Oh, and for the record? Since she clearly likes you back, maybe next time, take her somewhere that doesn’t smell like old popcorn and desperation!”
Steve froze mid-step, turning to glare at her. “Robin!”
She just grinned, wiggling her fingers in a wave. “Have fun with the trash, lover boy!”
Steve groaned loudly, stomping outside as Robin’s laughter rang through the store, the last thing he heard before the door slammed shut.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#platonic!stobin#platonic stobin#robin buckley#oneshot#x reader#smut#friends to lovers#enemies to friends to lovers#no use of y/n#self image issues#idiots in love#family video#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things smut
848 notes
·
View notes
Text
Willow
(A Pjo and Mcu!AU)
Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Fem!ExAvenger!Reader
Chapter Summary: You are were an Avenger. But before becoming an Avenger, you were a demigod— were half human, half god—rescued and trained by Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. You were only 15, then. Fast forward 10 years later, here you were, with the three people that you looked up to, and who had saved your life, being dead. Leaving you alone and too old to go back to your camp. That left you with no choice but to pick up odd, free agent work to keep your life going with the support of your remaining family. What happens when you meet a meek, vulnerable yet the most powerful man who made you relive your worst traumas?
Warnings: No Bob in this chapter, world building + character background, Mentions of Injuries, Blood, Demons, Monsters, Canon Typical Violence, Depression, Death of a parent, Insecurities, Isolation, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Found Family content, CW+IW+Endgame timeline, Reader has magical abilities of the goddess Hecate (eg: necromancy, pyrokinesis, hypnokinesis, dark magic, etc. you can find the rest on rioridanwiki!), that’s all i think!
**this is a work of fiction. I don't own any of these characters and I have made some changes to fit the storyline better and because it's an AU. I have taken all the information from google and riordanwiki. Incase I have gotten anything wrong, please let me know!**
AN: oh i am so IN for this pjo x mcu crossover like... this is literally my childhood and adulthood mixed in one. But im also nervous omg. Also, the title is inspired by the lyirc: 'life was a willow and it bent right to your wind' from Willow by Taylor Swift. (Btw, my godly parent, as per riordanverse, is Apollo, which is yours?😁)
PS: let's assume civil war took place after the reader was recruited.
Look, you didn't plan to abandon your camp.
But when your godly mother is Hecate, you inherit the misfortune of having night empowerment, that is, your magic was the strongest at night and the weakest during the day, which is why you were left powerless when Luke betrayed the camp and joined Kronos, poisoning Thalia's Tree. This weakened the borders and allowed monsters and demons of all kinds to target Camp Half-Blood. It's even more difficult when you were not allowed to use your godly powers in front of the whole world even if the mist would protect you. On top of it, Chiron had strict schedules and rules for your trainings so that meant no excessive or exhaustive training exercises combined with your 15 year old self, you had to heavily rely on your magic, which would often drain you if you used it incorrectly or without proper preparations.
As Hecate's daughter, you preferred solitude and so did the rest of your siblings. But that didn't mean you weren't protective over each other. In fact, you were fiercely protective, and you joined the fight to defend your cabin and your camp from the demons unleashed by Kronos. Since you were an older demi-god, it was your job to look after, and protect, the younger ones as well. And you did exactly that. In an attempt to save one of the newly claimed demi-gods, Percy Jackson, you ended up throwing him out of the way and stood way too close to the camp's border.
"Percy, stay back!", you shouted at him while using your magic to turn one of the demons into a pile of ash and golden ichor. It was nearing sunset, so you could slowly feel your powers coming back to you, but still felt your body shutting down gradually because of the overuse of your powers.
Percy was a very stubborn and reckless kid, you realized that the moment he went head to head with Clarisse La Rue. And when he got claimed by Poseidon himself, you understood where he got that hero complex from. Nevertheless, you found yourself feeling protective over him, especially since Grover and Chiron themselves vouched for him. You had taken it upon yourself to protect him, Chiron's words of worry echoing in your mind.
You had lost your father in an unfortunate accident when you were just 10 years old and that's when Hecate had officially claimed you, protecting you and guiding you to the camp. Having no family in the mortal world, you easily grew attached to your fellow campers. Which lead to you protecting them even if it costed you your life.
On top of it, you stayed up at night everyday, wishing you’d get a chance to say goodbye to your father, at least once. Wishing you’d lead a normal life. You knew how different you were from your half siblings, how it took you time to perfect your magic. All of this made you insecure of yourself, blaming yourself for any shortcomings. Chiron tried to reassure you time and time again, but the mind was a tricky place to get out of.
Percy was grunting and using all his might to fight back the angry Minotaur, his sword glinting in the yellow-orange hue of the sky. His shoes scuffed against the ground, the Minotaur using its huge obsidian black horns to push him back, Percy’s dirty blonde curls shaking violently, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. There was chaos everywhere, sounds of weapons clanking against each other and hums of magic and spells that came from the enchanted cabins, groans and roars of the creatures and a faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere behind you.
"I'm fine!", Percy called back in his breathless voice, his chest heaving with the effort. You finished off the demon that was fighting you and joined Percy, casting a protection spell, a purple bubble of your powers surround you and resist against the Minotaur. Suddenly, a Fury startled you and latched onto your back, a pained groan leaving your mouth. It lead to you breaking the protective shield around Percy, your attention diverted to the Fury.
The Furies were attacking you relentlessly, leaving scratch marks against your arms and back. You managed to conjure a spell and hurl it at them, when you heard a shout of pain. You turned your head to see that Percy was on his back while the Minotaur approached him, nostrils flaring in anger and Percy still trying to come to his bearings. Luckily, someone shot arrows to distract the Furies and you stood up quickly, your head spinning and knees weak. You rushed over and stood in front of Percy, faintly hearing Annabeth's distressed call for him to get up.
Your ears were ringing and all you could see were the Minotaur's glowing eyes and flaring nostrils, it's muscles tensed before it charged and you quickly shoved Percy down the hill before casting a spell as a barrier between you and the Minotaur.
You could see Annabeth cradling Percy against her and you sighed in relief, your eyesight turning blurry because of the exhaustion and unshed tears when the Minotaur managed to charge, pushing you out of the camp border. A choked gasp left your mouth and you could just see Annabeth's mouth open in a scream before you passed through a mist and entered the outside world. You fell on your back, the hard ground hurting your ribs, before promptly passing out.
-
When you came to, your saw a white ceiling above you and a persistent beeping on your right. The harsh light hurt your eyes, which made you close them while letting out a pained wince.
"Hey, it's okay..", a calm and composed voice muttered next to you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion because it didn't sound anything like Chiron or Mr D. Slowly opening your lids, you turned your head to the left and saw that a huge, muscular man was sitting next to you. He had cropped blonde hair, light blue eyes, and was wearing a grey t-shirt underneath a leather jacket, his hands pressed against the railing of your bed. You felt like you had seen him somewhere before, but you couldn't recall it.
Licking your dry and chapped lips, you finally spoke up, "W-Who are you? Where's Chiron?"
The man's face shifted in confusion, "Chiron? I'm sorry, I don't know who that is but--I'm Steve. Steve Rogers."
That's when it clicked you, your eyes widened in realisation, "You—oh my gods, you are Captain America...", you let out in a breathy whisper and the man-Captain America, smiled shyly.
Of course you know who he was. An advantage of being a demi-god was that you had to be aware of what was going on in the world. So obviously, you were all aware (and fans) of the Avengers. You and Grover always fought about who was that strongest Avenger—Hulk or Thor (he was Team Hulk, you were Team Thor. #demigodssupporteachother or whatever.) And you'd be lying if you said half of the kids in your camp didn't have a crush on Steve or Thor.
Which is why, him sitting so close to you was sending you, and your heart, into a frenzy, the monitor on your right beeping louder and Steve furrowed his brows in concern.
"Are you okay? Should I call a nurse-"
Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment, "No! No, I-I am okay. Thanks. How...how did I get here? Where are we?", you stammered, still a little out of it. You could make out faint memories of asking Percy to stay back and facing a Minotaur, but everything was a blur after that.
"Well, we are at the Avengers Compound. We found you near the woods at Montauk beach. Thankfully, we were doing some recon stuff and Tony informed us about a heat signature. When we got off to check it out, you were lying unconscious with a few cuts on your body. How did you even get there? It's pretty far away from civilisation", Steve asked you in confusion.
You froze. Although it would've been just another Tuesday for him, you remembered your 'oath' as a demi-god—act normal and unassuming in front of the world outside the camp. So you decided to lie for now.
"Uh- it's...it's a long story. Can we discuss it later?", you asked him hesitantly, hoping he'd believe you.
Steve nodded before helping you sit up and handed you a glass of water. You accepted it gratefully and took a few soothing sips.
"That's alright. We'll probably debrief you later. You should rest, you have a few cuts and bruised ribs. The doctor will come to check on you soon. Do you wanna contact somebody at home...?"
You froze. Since you had travelled all the way across from one end of New York to the other, you assumed that the fight must've simmered down by now. You needed to contact Chiron and inform him about your whereabouts as soon as possible.
"Uh-yes. Do you mind giving me a phone? I must've lost mine somewhere..."
Steve nodded and fished out his own cell, before leaving the room to give you some privacy.
You let out a sigh of relief after the door shut and put his phone aside, casting a mist with your powers and focusing intently to call upon Chiron. It took some time to conjure it in your exhausted state, the mist disappearing and your hands shaking after a while.
After trying for the fourth time, you finally made the connection.
"(Name)? Where are you?", Chiron's aged and worried face shimmered in the rainbow.
"Chiron! Oh gods, I'm so sorry. The Minotaur pushed me out of the borders and, you're not gonna believe this, The Avengers saved me. I'm at the Avengers Compound, right now", you explained to him and his face shifted in understanding before he let out a sigh.
"That's quite far away. When are you coming back? Are you alright?"
"I'm okay. A few cuts and bruised ribs. I- Chiron, they're gonna debrief me. What do I tell them? It's not exactly believable to say that a 15 year old came to this remote beach alone and passed out in the woods."
"Well...they're the Avengers, right? This is probably not a big deal for them. What do you think?", Chiron asked curiously.
You pursed your lips, already having made up your mind about what to do.
"I think...I think I'm gonna tell them."
Chiron gave you a knowing smile, as if he could already see what was going to go down, but he didn't stop you. He never did. He was always a very supportive and anchoring presence in all of your lives.
-
2 days later you were discharged, arms and legs bandaged and a few bandages scattered across your back.
Steve escorted you to the debrief room, where you met Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark, who smirked at the perpetual look of awe and wonder on your face. You almost laughed at their laid back looks and how they looked ordinary out of their supersuits. Almost, because your hands were shaking at the fact that you were standing in front of literal superheroes.
You were absently picking at your chipped black nail polish when Tony addressed you.
"So...(Name)? Right?", Tony began. You nodded and he read something on a tablet before speaking up, "Apart from your father and your early school life, I couldn't find any information on you. Why's that?", he stared at you in scrutiny while Steve and Natasha sat next to him, observing.
You cleared your throat and wrung your hands together in nervousness. Not only were you sitting in front of the Earth's Mightiest Heroes, but also you were going to talk about your real identity. You just hoped they wouldn't arrest you or worse.
"Well—Before I say anything, you have to promise you won’t rat me out", you stated and the three of them hesitated before agreeing to your condition, Tony squinting his eyes in judgement.
You sighed, "I am...not completely human. I'm a demi-god. Demi-titan actually, but yeah.”
The three of them whipped their eyes to look at you, their faces frozen in shock. How was this unassuming, docile, 15 year old girl, a demi god? And how did nobody find out about this?
"I'm sorry, what?", Tony blurted out and Natasha put a hand on his arm.
"Wait, how does nobody know about this? And why should we believe you?", she questioned you sternly.
You pursed your lips before opening up your palm in front of you, a small flame hovered on it, your eyes glowing purple.
"Whoa", Steve murmured in surprise, Natasha staring at you in wonder and Tony's eyes widened in disbelief. You slowly closed your palm and extinguished the flame, your eye colour returning back to normal, hands inside the pocket of the Stark-issued jacket that they had provided you.
"You can't speak of this to anyone. In fact, whatever I'm about to tell you, none of you can ever mention this to anybody. Or you will risk multiple lives. And I mean it", you informed them in a solemn tone and they understood the gravity of your words.
All of them dutifully nodded their heads and asked you to begin, Tony activating a privacy shutdown around the room.
So you began. You told them about your father who died in a car crash and how the Greek Goddess of Magic and Witchcraft, Hecate, had claimed you. That's when you had found out that you were her daughter, her and your father being lovers. Their faces were slack with surprise, the fact that greek gods and goddesses actually existed as the same time as them was unbelievable to them and you smirked at that. You had managed to shock the Avengers themselves.
You told them how Hecate showed you the way to the camp and you spent the next 5 years of your life there, under the guidance of a centaur named Chiron and the god Dionysus. You told them about the attack, how you were thrown outside the camp's borders and that's why you landed in the woods, making sure to not reveal the exact location of the camp. You also told them about your powers, what you can do with your magic, how much can you handle and how it is the strongest at night and dark places and the weakest during the day.
"I-Wow. This is a lot. You are a lot. I have a lot of questions", Tony replied and leaned his head against his hands.
You shrugged, "I really can't tell you anything more than this. I can't risk my family's life. Please, may I go now?"
All of them exchanged looks and asked you to step out for sometime, before calling you back in after 15 minutes.
"(Name)...look. We...have someone like you on our team now. Her name is Wanda Maximoff. Both of you share the same powers, minus the godly parent thing. You'd be an useful asset to the team and she’d help you train. Plus, we'd protect you in return. No more ending up in random woods, no more fighting demons and what not", Tony proposed and you froze.
"What?", you asked in disbelief. Did he really just ask you if you wanted to leave behind your old life and start this one like you knew any of them personally?
“I can’t just leave my home and be an Avenger!”, you said incredulously.
Natasha and Steve sighed before Natasha spoke up, “Look, I get it. It’s not exactly easy to just join us and there’s probably complications that we can’t even imagine. But, think about it. You’d get a place to stay, protection, and appropriate training. You’re only 15, (Name), don’t you think you should be going to school instead of having to constantly look over your shoulder? I know why you went to the camp. It’s so that you don’t end up lonely. I get that, trust me”, she tried to reason and you felt your stomach twist in indignation.
“I’m sorry? I’m not gonna let you sit there and guilt trip me like that, Ms. Romanoff. Let’s not act like you guys live any better lives than we do. And I do go to school, by the way”, you said heatedly, your eyes glowing a muted purple, feeling defensive over your home. Natasha and Steve were silent for a moment while Tony was too busy typing something in the tablet.
You clenched your fists and let out a breath, calming yourself down, “Now, if you’re done, I’d like to leave”, you conceded before standing up and leaving the room in a haste.
“Wait—(Name)!”, Tony’s voice called out and you reluctantly stopped, turning around in irritation.
“Sit down for a moment, will you?”, he requested you and sat down on the sofa outside the room. You grumbled and sat opposite him on the cushioned chair.
Tony began by holding out his hands to placate you, “Listen. We’re not trying to guilt-trip you. I swear. You’ve got potential, kid. And I know how difficult it must’ve been for you to navigate after your father’s death. I get that, I’ve been there. You’re just 15. And we can help you. You mentioned a name—Chiron, right? I assume he's your camp counselor or something?"
You gave him a hesitant nod.
"Why don’t you talk about this with him?”, he offered.
You paused for a moment, mulling over his words. You swallowed in nervousness before replying, “Okay.”
Tony pulled out his phone but you stopped him, “Uh- we can’t use mobile phones. Alerts the monsters and all that.”
Tony made a face, his eyes wrinkling behind his tinted glasses, “How do you talk to people, then?”
You gave him a smirk and conjured a mist, both of your hands splayed out in front of you, before closing your eyes and calling out to Chiron.
“What the fuck?”, Tony muttered next to you and you opened your eyes, seeing Chiron in the rainbow covered mist.
“Chiron…h-how’s everything there? Is everybody alright?”, you asked him tentatively, your leg moving up and down in anxiety, worried about your fellow campers and your siblings.
Chiron sighed in exhaustion, “I won’t lie to you and say it’s alright. Many of the kids, your cabin included, are injured. Grover, the nymphs and the Apollo cabin are tending to all of them. The camp…it’s a mess. Part of our stables is completely burnt, Thalia was barely saved, the hill is covered in small fires, dining area is destroyed…and since the borders are yet to be closed, it’s going to take a while to rebuild.”
Your chest ached, you didn’t want to pile this up on the old man right now. He was already going through a lot.
“Just say it, (Name)”, Chiron quipped. You snapped your head up to look at him. Of course Chiron already sensed you wanted to share something. On your left, Tony was staring at you and Chiron closely—with wonder and something else shimmering in his eyes.
“This is Tony Stark, you know him. Iron Man and Billionaire”, you introduced them before Tony slid in close to you and waved at Chiron. You swallowed before deciding to just bite the bullet, “Chiron, they’ve proposed that I join the team”, you let out in a breath and lowered your eyes in shame.
“Okay. What have you decided?”, Chiron’s calm voice asked you.
You stuttered, “I’m-”, but you knew your answer.
You wanted to get away from the camp for the past 3 years. The place reminding you too much of your father and how you were lesser than the others. How you stuck out like a sore thumb.
But even if you joined the Avengers, you’d still stand out. You’d have to constantly hold back and be careful to avoid hurting others, stay focused and train harder to gain control over yourself and avoid contact altogether, to save them from the monsters that would follow your scent.
But you wanted to do this. The thrill of attending school without getting distracted by some Greek mythological creature following you and finally leaving the camp to try and lead a mundane life was too strong to ignore. You steeled yourself and looked at Chiron.
“I’m doing this, Chiron. I’m sorry”, you could see Tony’s eyes widen next to you and Chiron’s understanding smile.
Chiron was the next thing to a father that you had. His progressive and supportive energy kept you going for the 5 years that you spent in the camp. You would always be grateful for his wisdom and protection.
You felt your eyes tear up before Chiron instructed, “Don’t apologise, my child. You can come to the camp tomorrow. We’ll see you then. Take care.”
You gave him a wet smile and broke the connection, staring at your hands in intense concentration. A few quiet moments passed before Tony nudged you lightly, garnering your attention. You turned your head to the side to look at him with tearful eyes.
“You did good. We’ll discuss the rest when you come back tomorrow, hm?”, he murmured.
You simply nodded in agreement.
-
You went back to the camp to meet your family for the last time. Bidding farewell to your siblings and your favourite trio—Annabeth, Grover and Percy—along with Chiron and Mr. D. It was a tearful goodbye, Grover and Annabeth crying and Percy trying his best to stifle his. When you went to hug him, he begrudgingly returned it, murmuring into your shoulder that he was upset at you.
You cried harder at that.
After gathering all your stuff from the cabin and bidding everyone goodbye, they walked you to the camp’s borders. Chiron asked you to make a small promise to him, that while you would lead a double life now, you’d try your best to keep this part of it hidden, which meant no sudden iris messages or surprise visits. You vehemently agreed, reassuring him that you’d do anything to protect them and him promising his support to you, anytime.
And then you left. For your new life. As the Demi-God Avenger.
-
"Well, this is your room, I tried my best to design it to suit you, but if you want any changes, just let me know or shout out to FRIDAY."
"FRIDAY?", you asked in confusion.
Tony smirked in that classic manner of his, "FRIDAY, welcome our newest member."
"Of course, boss. Welcome to the Avengers Compound, Miss (Name). This would be your room and if you need anything, you can just call out my name. I'll assist you at any time."
You jumped when you heard the dismembered voice. It was coming from the entire room, it seemed. Now, you were used to hearing voices out of thin air, but this? The fact that this was achieved without magic was so fascinating to you.
"Whoa...", you breathed out in disbelief, your mouth falling open in awe and your eyes flitting around the entire room.
Tony chuckled next to you, "Yeah, I know. Anyways, settle down and you can join us for lunch or order somethin', if you want. I'll be busy in a meeting and Natasha has gone for an assignment. Steve must be in the gym or the library and it's your lucky day because Bruce is in the labs as well. So, if you need anything, you can go to those two, yeah?"
You nodded absently, and he took your leave. Looking around the room, you took notice of how Tony had personalised it for you.
The room was painted in a terracotta colour, a huge bed in the middle on your left side that was covered in a cream coloured bedsheet, purple coloured duvet, a mountain of cream, purple and yellow coloured pillows. Next to the bed were two side tables, both of them a dark mahogany wood, the one closest to you had a beautiful moon lamp on it. There was a desk lined by the wall in front of the bed, it was in the same dark mahogany wood as the side tables, a purple coloured chair placed in front of it. The bed's left side had an in-the-wall book shelf, and next to it was a huge floor-to-ceiling length window that sprawled across the wall, it was covered in glass and had a sliding door to give you access to the lush green lawn of the compound. The window swathed the room in a golden hue of the afternoon sun, the view of the sun peeking through the trees and leaves moving in the slight breeze putting you at ease right away.
You took in a deep breath, the scent of a lavender candle tickling your nose and you felt like this was home. Your eyes welled up with tears at that.
You see, as the child of a minor goddess, you and your siblings did not have your own cabin. You had to share with the Hermes kids who shared with other minor gods' kids and it was chaotic. You never had a chance to have a place of your own. The fact that Tony, a man you had just met, had done this just to make you feel at home and even allowed you to make any changes as you desire, was everything to you. You'd be forever grateful for how he took you in and let you live at his place as if you always belonged.
You decided to spend the whole day in your room, unpacking your stuff and arranging it. There was a door on the right of the desk that was most likely the bathroom. You opened it and were shocked at the sight in front of you--the bathroom was huge, with a large bathtub and a shower cubicle on the left. You didn't notice it at first, but as soon as you entered, there was another door on the right which lead into the closet, which was substantially big enough for you. After arranging your clothes in it and taking in your room once more, you decided to walk out and thank Tony for all of this.
Tony just waved you off, stopping your attempts at thanking him, telling you to feel at home and pull up your socks for the training, instead. After having dinner with them and introducing yourself to Bruce, you went back to your room and just crashed, falling asleep immediately for the first time in your life.
-
2016
It's been a whole year since you became an Avenger and moved into the compound. You had settled in quite well, making a friend in Wanda who trained you everyday to control your powers (which, you were sure, that Hecate must have rolled her eyes at), and had a dysfunctional family of superheroes now, being extremely close to all of them. Even if that was the case, you were the closest to Natasha, Tony and Steve--the three people who had given you this life. Soon you met Vision, Rhodey, Clint and Sam, and you got along with all of them quite well except Clint, whom you found a little annoying.
You were still undergoing training, so Tony put you on schedules with Natasha, who taught her widow techniques to you and Steve, who taught you how to make proper use of your body's natural strength. Sam was another great sparring partner, his flexibility and agility as a gymnast and athlete was fascinating to you and he was fun to talk to, always cracking jokes and treating you to lunch later.
You were the unofficial baby of the group so they all took turns to be protective over you and babysit you (you'd be lying if you said you didn't like that.) All of them were fond of how smart and polite you were, but at the same time fearful of your powers and did everything to avoid upsetting you as any tumultuous emotion caused you to lose control, destroying anything around you. You had accidentally burnt down a part of the kitchen when Clint wouldn't stop annoying you, a purple burst of irritation blazing the entire right side of the kitchen, narrowly missing the gas pipes.
Clint was banned from talking to you after that incident.
As for the school part, you did attend school and made new friends there as well- Peter Parker, Ned Leeds and MJ. You were an year older than them, but the school required you to retake your classes so you had to start in the same grade as them. This was your little bubble, the three of them keeping you company everyday and Aunt May spoiling you to her heart's content. You loved how motherly and caring she was, always looking forward to the days she'd invite you over for lunch or dinner or when you and Ned went to Peter's for a movie night.
Safe to say, you had settled in like you always belonged here. No interference from any titans or demons or gods, enjoying your mundane life with your new family and friends. You had gotten inspired to change your room as well-- your godly gifts also included being an amazing interior designer and innovator--so you turned your bed into a four poster with beige curtains hanging from it, an enchanted sky ceiling that showed you the constellations any time that you want, your bathroom was transformed into half covered by dark, moody purple tiles and you had casted a spell to increased the size of your room, turning it into a gym, or a kitchen, or a garden, if you had one of those days where the commotion in the compound became too much. Everyone was freaked out by the way you could transform things into whatever you wished to but they got over it soon, watching you in wonder and requesting the same for their rooms (which you politely declined because using too much of your powers exhausted you.)
-
Imagine the whiplash when a few months later, your family was arguing over some papers, had split into two, had asked you to pick a side, and were now fighting against each other in the middle of an airport.
Steve had told you about his best friend, Bucky, when you came across an article of them on the internet. Now, you knew who he was and what happened to him, but hearing it from Steve, who had lived to see what happened, was an experience and it gave you the real story instead of the gossip-y and juicy stories squeezed out by media outlets. When you saw the news that Bucky had assassinated King T’Chaka, it was a shock. You didn’t believe he could’ve done that. In fact, you didn’t blame Bucky for whatever he did for most of his life.
But when that man in the footage looked eerily familiar to Bucky, who was going to listen to a 16 year old new recruit?
Tony and Steve argued. Steve, Sam and Natasha broke the law for Bucky and were branded as criminals. The rest of them picked sides. Tony supporting the accords, Steve being against it. And your family broke apart. Now you must be wondering, what did you do?
You opted out. It went against your morals and your affection for the team. The betrayal you felt, when Wanda chose to broke out of the compound and join Steve, was something serious. You hadn’t expected that to happen and you surely hadn’t expected for Clint to be an even bigger asshole and convince Wanda to break out. You argued with the two of them but they did not give you a chance to placate, leaving in a haste while Wanda put Vision six feet under ground when he tried to stop her. If she could do that to Vision, whom she liked, you didn't want to imagine what she could've done to you.
Rhodey had asked you for a last time, whether you wanted to join them or not. You strongly opposed, stating that you’d stay in the compound or at a friend’s. After Wanda left, you were originally going to stay back but then you received May’s call, that Peter had left for a study tour and you straightened up in alarm. There was no study tour. You packed up an overnight bag and left for Queens, choosing to spend the night with May instead.
Come morning, May was rightfully worried as Peter’s phone wasn’t working anymore and he didn’t answer any of her calls or texts. You were proper annoyed. You just had a hunch that he was at the airport, but when you summoned a connection through the mist—it was confirmed. There he was, in Tony’s private jet, on his way to Germany.
See, you always found his excuses for missing out on stuff dumb, the nervousness and lies practically bleeding through his clothes and body. But you chose to humour him, not wanting to stress him out. But there he was, sitting in the jet, in a fucking Spider-Man suit. As if that’s not a big deal.
You were worried you’d scare May off by accidentally blasting out your powers, so you decided to meditate instead. You stayed with her for the whole day, keeping her company and distracting her. And the next day, you received an alert on your watch from FRIDAY that everyone had returned. You hastily took May’s leave and arrived at the compound to find out—a whole chunk of your family was missing, Tony was sporting a black eye and a broken arm, and him and Natasha looking at you with grim faces.
“What the hell happened?”, you muttered carefully, the compound’s common area was way too quiet.
Tony looked away in guilt, Natasha looked at you in concern.
“Hey…are you okay?”, she asked tentatively, as if preparing you for the worst.
“Nat, I asked you something. What the hell happened? Where is everyone?”, your voice wavered, a lump lodged in your throat.
Tony shook his head, avoiding your eyes at all costs while Nat let out a tired sigh.
“Well, to cut the story short—Steve, Clint, Sam and Bucky are in the raft. They are declared as criminals of the state”, your eyes widened in shock, “Wanda and Vision are on the run. Don’t know where they are right now.”
“What the fuck? Tony? What—and what happened to you? Where’s Rhodey? What even happened between you all?”, you growled, irritated with Tony’s non-verbal stance.
Tony took a deep breath before finally meeting your eye, his black eye making it difficult for him to focus without wincing.
“Rhodey…got shot out of the sky. Paralysed from the lower spine and below. He’s getting operated on right now. Might— Will need prosthetics. And uh-I fought with Cap and Barnes”, his voice was low and heavy with guilt, like he was already blaming himself for everything.
Your eyes widened, “What”, you breathed out, “How—what the fuck even happened, how did it escalate so badly? Huh?”, your voice rose in anger, eyes lightly glowing a muted purple, a purple-blue flame simmering at your fingertips.
Natasha held up her hands to placate you, “Hey—kid, it’s okay. I know this is a lot—”
“Of fucking course, it’s a lot! What were you guys thinking? All of this over a piece of fucking paper? And now—now most of them are on the run, are wanted as criminals and in the hospital? And Tony—”, you pointed a finger at him, “what was Peter doing there?!”
Tony’s eyes widened in surprise, “How—”
“Yeah. He’s my friend. And my classmate. And I have powers that help me track down someone who’s miles away from me”, the flame at your fingertips was slowly engulfing your hand, your eyes turning a brighter purple now. Natasha came close to you, her hand slowly settling on your shoulders in support.
Tony swallowed, his face shifting in pain, “I’m sorry. I’m really—I don’t know what to say, kid. What’s happened, happened. We—I fucked up. I’ll…I’ll try fixing it”, his eyes turned glassy by the end of that sentence and he turned back, walking away from you and Natasha.
You gritted your teeth and clenched your hands into tight fists, your eyes glowing a brighter purple now. The lights started flickering, a few scattered objects and frames shaking, Natasha looked at you in shock and fear.
“Hey-hey, hey, come on. Look at me—(Name), come on. Don’t do this. It’ll be alright. I got you, sweetheart”, Natasha said in a gentle voice, wrapping you in her safe arms. You closed your eyes in resignation, hands relaxing, the common area going back to normal, and you leaned into Natasha, a few tears slipping from your eyes.
You weren’t afraid of being alone, no. But you were human. And somehow, you were that one defective child of Hecate that craved for human connection. You had already lost your blood family. You had to leave behind your half family. And now? Now your found family was broken too. And slowly, your brain started working overtime to convince you that maybe, maybe you were the problem.
-
2018
2 years since your family broke up. 3 since you became an Avenger.
A lot had changed since then.
You grew up, of course. You were 18 and you were a trained Avenger now. Which meant you could assist the rest of them on missions.
But it was of no use because Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, Clint—they were all still estranged from the rest of you. You found out about Scott, who was put on house arrest along with Clint. You found out that Bucky was in Wakanda, undergoing treatment for his arm and the trigger words. You were really happy when you found out about that. Natasha was also on the run with Steve and Sam. You didn’t know where they went, originally. Rhodey had recovered, his new prosthetics helping him move around easily.
Steve and Tony had made up, for the most of it. Steve sent a letter and a burner phone for Tony to call him on, which felt awfully similar to an exes to lovers thing. You also found out that Steve had lied about Bucky killing Tony’s parents. That one gave you a massive shock. You couldn’t believe that Steve could do something stupid and...immoral like that. And suddenly, you understood Tony’s anger towards him and Bucky.
But he had already forgiven Steve and the others, that much was clear. It was clear to you the moment you saw him in the sling and black eye 2 years ago, his shoulders drawn in like a small child, and you sensed it immediately on him. That was the thing about Tony, he was quick to take all the blame on him and forgive others in his own begrudging and annoying way.
Then you confronted Peter about his superhero activities.
He stuttered his way through the confession and you eventually stopped grilling him, taking pity on his poor face that was red with nervousness, and decided to let him in your secret. He was positively buzzing then, unable to wrap his head around the fact that his best friend was a "fucking--demi-god/demi-titan, whatever, oh my god!" (his words, not yours.) He even made you show your powers to him, ooh-ing at every single spell that you cast in Latin and Greek and the purple shimmer of your magic.
You decided to train yourself harder, wanting to be prepared the next time your help is required in any mission. Practicing with the book of spells and witchcraft that your mother, Hecate, had gifted you after a quest, with your room shut out from the outside world, the smells of burning incense and herbs permeating your bones and every corner of the room. Tony would be freaked out at your training rituals but you assured him that it was just for concentration purposes.
Chiron would contact you every now and then, you would chat with him, Annabeth, Grover and Percy and that would make you feel lighter. They kept you entertained and updated about the stuff happening around the camp or in their lives, with Grover--being your favourite gossiper--subtly hinting at Percy and Annabeth getting closer to admitting their very obvious crushes on each other. That made you happy and sad at the same time because you couldn’t witness that first hand.
You even introduced them to Tony and Peter. Tony and Annabeth had a long nerdy conversation, after which Tony told you that he was greatly impressed and asked if he could give her an internship, while Grover and Percy had a great time exchanging memes and pop culture with Peter.
It was pretty mundane for these two years. You gelled in with Pepper and Happy, becoming an unofficial member of the Stark family along with Peter, who was also an intern at Stark industries now, you kept an eye on Steve and the others, just to reassure yourself that they were okay, although Wanda was keeping you out, wanting to stay hidden for longer and Bucky was still undergoing his treatment. Sometimes you'd see him step out of his hut and feed the sheep, play with the kids, take walks with Princess Shuri minus his metallic arm, but most importantly—you were happy to see that he looked healthy.
-
But then came the ugly purple giant and his army of equally nasty alien soldiers and ruined your life. You went to space with Tony, he was fully against it but you insisted, because your powers could actually be helpful against an extraterrestrial. You fought along side Tony, Peter and the Guardians. You even came close to removing the godforsaken gauntlet from Thanos' hand.
But then it suddenly ended. Time stopped. And everyone started disappearing.
Peter disappeared into a pile of ash right in front of you and Tony, departing with a quiet 'I'm Sorry' and you waited for the same to happen to you, but it never came. You leaned back against the debris of the fallen moon, your blown wide in a state of shock, hands shaking violently while Tony tried to bring you back to life.
You were stuck in that space ship with him and Nebula for god knows how long. Tony's cheeks were hollowed, skin pale, movements slower and you couldn't bear to watch that. You weren't doing any better. You had gone quiet and sluggish, half heartedly listening to Tony and Nebula playing a game of paper football. He fed you the remaining rations, forcing you to eat but eventually he lost his own energy, filming one last message in the helmet of his Iron suit and leaned back into the pilot seat in exhaustion. You had passed out long back, falling unconscious with hunger and the lack of energy or hope.
-
You opened your eyes to a white ceiling, eyes straining against the curtain of exhaustion and confusion, your body weak and limp on the soft bed. You noticed a figure move in the corner of your eye and notice a mop of blonde hair, the whole scene giving you a sense of deja vu, and then you heard his voice.
"Kid?", your eyes flew open. Steve was sitting next to you. Alive. It's been 2 years since you saw him. Your eyes welled up with tears and he laid an empathetic hand on your shoulder, thumb rubbing it gently to soothe you.
"W-where are the others..", you managed to get out and his face turned solemn.
"Nat, Clint, Scott, Rhodey, Bruce--they're all here. The rest..", he trailed off and shook his head. It was enough to make you aware of the situation, swallowing harshly against the lump in your throat as you froze.
Your chest ached as you realised-- you had lost half of your family once again.
-
2023
It's been 5 years since the snap. 5 years since you lost your family again and 5 years of you wallowing in your sorrows, your magic slowly inching towards a darker side. All that anger, sadness and frustration was simmering beneath your blood, ready to unleash at any moment.
Steve and Natasha kept you close, keeping a vigilant eye on you--almost helicopter parenting you--which was funny, because you were 23 years old now. Tony had retired. Completely given up. He had chosen a secluded cabin and shifted there after his and Pepper's marriage. You were glad he took the decision. But a part of you felt angry, because you couldn't have that luxury and you couldn't check on Camp Half-Blood either, the fear of attracting more monsters making you paranoid.
So you simply sat back and observed, waiting for the right moment to strike back, your magic pulsing beneath your veins, waiting to be released.
-
Slowly, people started joining--Thor came back extremely depressed with a talking raccoon who was a part of the Guardians' team, then there was Carol Danvers, who was cool and looked every bit of the leader that she is, and suddenly it was a full house again.
You, Steve, Natasha and Scott had gone to convince Tony to help out when Bruce's (or Professor Hulk's, honestly that was a little scary to you) attempts at making a time machine failed miserably. When you reached the cabin, you stopped dead in your tracks at the visual.
Tony and Pepper had a daughter now, the sight of him cuddled up with her making your eyes well up with tears, wishing you had the same. It was difficult to convince him, naturally, with him having a family now.
"I'm really happy for you, Tony", you whispered and gave him a soft smile, waving a hand to Morgan who shyly returned it before running back inside, "But please, think about it. It's been five years", you requested him and he pursed his lips, the gray in his hair catching the light and his brown eyes glassy with emotion. You knew he would join you. You knew you were asking a lot from him, that he wouldn't sleep peacefully if he did this.
And he did do it. He made time travel possible. And he remade the gauntlet. Only Tony Stark could make it happen. All of you, joined by Clint, went back in time, to gather those stones. And Clint returned without Natasha. It took Tony and Steve together to calm you down before you destroyed the entire set up. You didn't even get time to recover from it when the entire compound collapsed. It was infiltrated and attacked by Thanos and his army again.
You had exhausted yourself thoroughly, casting spells left and right to protect someone or to kill an alien. You protected Clint when he had the gauntlet in his hand, you protected Nebula when she was attacking another alien, you conjured a spell to create the Empousai, who sucked the blood out of the aliens, you used your pyrokinetic powers to light up anything on fire and deflect attacks, you even tried to use your time manipulation powers to reverse the events but the stones and Thanos' power was too strong, him using the power stone to fling you across the field where you dropped down harshly, knocking against the hard ground violently.
That's when you saw, felt and heard, the buzz of a million spirals in the field, the magic of the mystical arts, cast by Strange, Wong and their supporters and you faintly made out blurry figures whizz past you. Suddenly a strong hand clamped around your arm, pulling you up slowly and letting you lean against them, your eyes flying open in surprise when you saw that it was Bucky.
This meant that everyone was back. Bucky handed you over to Tony, who helped you sit up and you heard a thwip above you, hands helping the two of you stand up, the field around you was engulfed in chaos and sounds of pain and fighting. When the person started speaking, you and Tony snapped your heads up to stare at Peter.
Your best friend, Peter. Tony's son, Peter.
The two of you were crying, listening to Peter's nerdy ramble with fond attention before Tony wrapped him up in a hug, Peter quieting down and returning the hug, his eyes closed in contentment and he grabbed your arm to pull you in, the three of you embracing each other in silence.
-
You thought everything was okay now. You thought it was over and all of you could go home, try to mend each other again, when suddenly a bright light blinded you, your concentration breaking and hands coming up to cover your face. When the light faded away, you noticed that it was too quiet.
Everyone had stopped fighting, looking at each other helplessly, trying to figure what just happened when you heard a sound of metal against metal, a body dragging down a piece of debris. You whipped your head to the side to see--Tony. His right side was charred and gray, like he had walked through a wild fire, his eyes were blank, body language sluggish and exhausted.
You felt it--His heartbeat was slower. His breathing too thin. You could feel his soul fighting to stay alive, and you fell to your knees, Steve's arms coming around you to keep you grounded, your eyes brimmed with tears and face damp with them as you saw Rhodey, Pepper and Peter say their goodbyes to Tony.
Peter was held back by Rhodey, his body shaking violently with sobs, Pepper was murmuring something and every single person standing around them had tears in their eyes. You crawled over to Tony, placing a careful hand on his cold forehead, and you whispered a soothing spell, one that would lessen his pain in his last moments.
"Thank you for everything, T", you whispered wetly, his blank eyes shining with tears as he tried to move his head to look at you and abruptly stood up, crying into Steve's shoulder for god knows how long.
-
As if losing two of the most important people in your life wasn't enough, right after Tony's funeral ended, Steve decided to leave you.
He left you, Sam and Bucky behind, without any warning. Well, you assumed Bucky knew but Steve had still betrayed you and Sam. He left the shield behind with Sam, passing the mantle of Captain America to him. You felt proud but empty, unable to celebrate as you were shaking with annoyance at Steve's nonchalance and ignorance.
"Take care and don't underestimate yourself. You still have a family", he told you and gestured towards the two men standing at the end of the grassy path, the wrinkles and white hair making him look like a stranger.
In a way, he was a stranger. This wasn't the same Steve Rogers that you knew. You had walked away furiously, your chest hurting with the pain and frustration. Sam and Bucky watched you leave helplessly, the three of you caught in the same dilemma.
First it was your dad. Then it was Natasha. Then Tony. And now Steve.
Your life had completely uprooted itself and you weren't the same anymore. So as Hecate and fate would have it, you went back to your old friend: isolation.
-
2024
Yeah alright, you had said you would isolate yourself blah blah blah.
But turns out, you can’t resist Sam Wilson, with his big brown eyes and gentle voice working overtime to convince you. He had been the one to coax you out of your depressed state and the dingy apartment that you lived in (that wasn’t dingy at all on the inside, but the exterior helped you to stay undercover. Sam lost his mind when he discovered that you could do the decor stuff too.)
You’d been out of service for a whole year, choosing to keep to yourself, keeping your head down, leaving your apartment only to go for grocery runs or food—that’s all. You didn’t contact anybody, didn’t take up any assignments, didn’t use your magic for saving-the-world-purposes-nothing. You felt like an empty shell of your previous self and there was an ever lasting ache in your heart, your mind constantly sending signals that something—someone was missing.
But when Sam came knocking on your door, scolding you for being off the grid and so difficult to track, he managed to convince you to join him and Bucky for a small party at Sam’s hometown.
You refused, shutting him down quickly. He observed you closely with the eyes of a soldier then--taking in your black sweats, dark blue oversized hoodie dwarfing your body, the bags under your eyes, the smell of lavender and herbs that seemed to stick to you, the dim yet large ambience of your home, the constant fidgeting with your hands--and he let out a big sigh, his heart squeezing with empathy for you.
In way you reminded him of Bucky, who was nothing less than a wounded animal in the initial days. That’s what you looked like.
He then tried to break you by telling you that Bucky wanted you to come, knowing you had wanted to talk to him for a long time, and you perked up at that, reluctantly agreeing to his invitation and also because you couldn't say no to Sam's big-eyed-kicked-puppy-look anymore.
You went to Louisiana with him and joined his family’s cookout. Sam encouraged you to dress up and you did it for him, making yourself presentable after months--wearing a striped blue and white shirt, paired with your most comfortable pair of jeans, your favourite shoes, a brown handbag that Natasha had gifted you, your hair pulled up in a neat hairstyle and your face touched up with light concealer (those eye bags were serious.)
When you got there, the entire place was bustling with happy families and deliciously smelling meals. You eventually spotted Bucky, noticing that his hair was shorter now, and he was playing with 2 teenaged boys. That brought a tiny smirk to your face, happy yet surprised to see him so free and excited like this. Bucky spotted you and ran over, shocked to see you. He tackled you in a hug, a surprised squeal leaving your mouth before you returned the gesture. Sam’s sister and his nephews welcomed you with opened arms, making you forget your pain and suffering for sometime.
That night, you hugged Sam close and cried into his shoulder, him reassuring you that he’d stick around and that he wanted you to work with them. After Sam went to bed, you sat by the dock and looked at the water, the moonlight making it sparkle and Bucky joined you, the two of you chatting for a while before he extended his hand for a possible friendship and acquaintance, and you hesitantly but happily accepted.
This is how you began your new journey, with your new family.
Chapter 2
-
AN: whewwww this was a lot! I'm sorry if this was rushed but there's so much content i wanna fit in it and a lot of characters too! i hope you understand <3 i hope i did justice to the characters and the original material!! Please like and reblog and let me know your thoughts.🥹
taglist: @96jnie @ethereal-athalia @joaquinsgf @parkersjoy @spideybrie @tacorice @rin-borahae @darling-eos @shootmethroughmyhead @pinkgin1220 @astromilku @antclotz @incorrectateezforatiny @malu940 @gingy7891 @chxrry-wxn3 @marymun @jinx53 @tippyeddy @rhaenyrathecruell @magpiemayhem @kawaiilovephantom @blackcats-and-witchcraft @kaixvdenny @giona45-5 @qardasngan @sarcazzzum @lilajoy-ily
@80pairsofcrocs @lovelyypythoness @fleabagoflowers @thenameishayley248 @lizzie8878 @freyagallileaevans @lilienvenus @funperson21 @markusstraya @watermeezer @eroselless @maeflowers653 @midsreads
sorry if I forgot someone/you didn’t get tagged! reply if you wanna be removed from the taglist!
#bob reynolds x fem!reader#bob thunderbolts#bob reynolds x reader#bob reynolds#thunderbolts#tony stark#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#sam wilson x platonic!reader#bucky barnes x platonic!reader#new avengers#marvel mcu#marvel cinematic universe#the sentry#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#annabeth chase#grover underwood#chiron#greek mythology#hecate#cabin 20#fluff#angst#hurt/comfort#robert reynolds#robert reynolds x reader
346 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sit Down Now and Rest
-~-~-~-~-~-~
Description: You had anxiety and depression, and Tony and Bruce were more than happy with getting you anxiety meds the moment that you asked. When you stop taking your meds, your mental health plummets and spirals as well as your physical health, and everyone notices. Don't worry though, they're there for you.
Pairing: (Platonic) Avengers x Teen!Reader
Type: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Depression, anxiety, sickness, fainting, dizziness, taking meds(both medicated and just vitamins/iron supplements), dehydration, insomnia, depressive and hurtful thoughts, reader doesn't talk very much in this, nicknames(Kiddo, Kid, Hun)
Word Count: 1,627
Note: I may or may not have written this with too much of myself being present… But it's fine! I also wrote this at like 2 in the morning so it's kinda rough but I just needed to get this typed out so here ya go! Also, the characters might be kinda ooc because I haven't watched any marvel movies in a little while but I've been hyper focused on fics with them lately so yea. And I am working on my tlou and tech fics, it's just hard to find the motivation to write them, but don't worry, I'm working on em.
-~-~-~-~-~-~
You were quick to notice that you stopped taking your meds. You knew that they helped you, but you couldn't get yourself to start the habit of taking them again. You wanted to, most definitely, but you couldn't. Every day was the same. Wake up, look at your meds, contemplate taking them, saying you'll take them later, go train, eat, and then not take them.
You also stopped taking them at night too. You had even set alarms so that you'd remember to take them, but it didn't help at all. Natasha was the first to notice that something was up, being the closest one with you. When she realized that something wasn't quite right, she made sure to keep a close eye on you. She was quick to pick up how dizzy you looked when you'd get up, sometimes not even being able to stay standing before you crumbled back onto the couch. You'd always play it off as if you just lost your footing but she and everyone else knew that that wasn't the case.
One morning you had gotten up much later than you had recently been getting up. When you checked the time, it was around two in the afternoon. You got up and went to the kitchen, feeling extremely hungry after forgetting, and also just not wanting dinner the night prior. When you arrived in the kitchen, Tony was there. He had kind of taken up the father role in your life.
The moment he saw that you had finally arose, he was quick to make a snarky comment in good fun, “Ah! The beast has finally awoken from their slumber, now off they go to find their beauty.”
You only roll your eyes, ignoring him. You felt exhausted, even though you got close to ten hours of sleep seeing as you fell asleep around 4 in the morning. You couldn't find anything easy to fix or that looked appetizing in the fridge or pantry so you just opted for a bottle of water that you would only take a sip or two of then leave with your other five almost full water bottles on your nightstand.
Before you could go back to the confines of your room, Tony had to ask you a question, “ Hey kiddo, did you take your meds?”
The question caught you off guard, not expecting him to ask seeing as he hasn't asked in a real long time.
“Oh yea! I, um, took them earlier but fell back asleep. Yea, that's what I did!”
You try to make it seem like you weren't lying through your teeth, but weren't very successful because of how exhausted you were. However, before Tony could confront you, you book it to your room. You hide there for the rest of the day, not coming out for Dinner. Steve had come by to tell you that dinner was ready but you told him that you weren't very hungry as you just kept your
on the book that you had your nose in. You kept your light on all night, not feeling tired.
The next morning, Nat knocked on your door around eight, coming to get you so that you could train with her. When she opened your door, she saw you laying on your back staring up at the ceiling. You looked exhausted and had dark circles under your eyes. When Bat opened the door, you flung up in surprise. You hadn't heard her knocking so you weren't expecting for the door to randomly open. You couldn't tell who it was at first because your vision went fuzzy black as your body tried to accommodate the sudden movement that you caused. Nat waited for you to acknowledge her.
When you did after a couple seconds, you looked over at the time, confused. It had just been two the last time you looked at the clock. How could it be eight all of the sudden? You were brought out of your thoughts by Natasha trying to talk to you. You zoned back in, giving her a questioning look.
“I said, are you ok? You look exhausted Hun. I came by to get ya to come train but it looks like you need to rest for a couple days.”
“Oh! No, I'm fine. Just give me a couple minutes to get ready and I'll be down and we can get to work in no time!”
She gave you a skeptical look but nodded, closing your door behind her.
When you got down to the training room, Bucky and Steve were there with Natasha. They smiled upon seeing you walk in. However, Bucky and Steve's bright smiles dropped upon looking at your figure. You were slouched, tired eyes not fully open and your eye bags were extremely dark.
Bucky was the first to point it out, “Hey Kid, you ok? You aren't looking too good.”
You only shrugged, your body aching and your throat feeling scratchy and sore for some reason.
As you're sparring with Natasha, you continuously have to stop the match because you go into coughing fits. As finish with your last coughing fit you go back to Natasha, but she's packing her stuff up.
“Wait, where are you going?” You're voice comes rather harsh and rude as you ask the red head.
“I think you should rest for the rest of the day Hun. I'll come check on you in a little while. But go take your meds and also some cough syrup and eat something.”
You didn't say anything as you grabbed your stuff and walked back to your room. This was stupid. It was just a little cold. You can still fight. You need to train. Deep down though you knew you needed to listen to her and do as she said. In the end, you don't. You go back to your room, take a sip or two of water, get a small snack and then sit down in the living room with a book.
You try to read it, but you can't stay focused for long enough to. Your mind is spiraling and racing. You kept replaying how training went. You were so pathetic. And rude. How could you be so rude? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You slam the book down onto the sofa, huffing.
You hadn't noticed that some of the others had joined you in the living room. They look up at you, surprised. They weren't used to seeing you like this. You tried to get up quickly, wanting to get away from this embarrassing situation.
The moment you get up, the world goes black, buzzing and ringing is the only thing you can hear as you collapse. You feel something picking you up and setting you down on the couch. You blink your eyes a couple times, slowly feeling sensation being restored in your body. You look around you and see that Bruce is coming over with a damp cloth and water. Nat has your head resting in her lap and Tony has your hand in his. They all look worried as they stare down at you. You hear gasped as Steve and Bucky walk in.
Questions are being thrown at you, too fast for you to comprehend. You instinctively put your hands on your ears, feeling overwhelmed. They all quiet down upon seeing this. Tony is the one to ask the questions from then on.
“Hey, it's ok. We're sorry, didn't mean to overwhelm ya like that. Can ya sit up?”
You nodded, feeling embarrassed now. Tony nodded and Nat helped you sit up, allowing you to lean against her.
“Ok, drink some water, you're ok,” Tony hands you the water that Bruce had brought over as Bruce is wiping your face with the cold damp cloth.
“Ya feeling better?”
“Ya, I'm fine.”
“Have you been taking your meds, kid?”Tony doesn't hold back, knowing what it looks like when you don't take the meds that have been helping you produce what your body needs.
You sheepishly look down at your hands that are fidgeting in your lap. You inhale sharply before shaking your head no.
They all sigh, Natasha being the one to talk this time, “Why haven't you been taking your meds, Hun?”
“I-I just don't want to… I don't like the feeling.”
They looked at each other, wondering what to say. As they look at each other, you go to stand up, but they make sure that you don't get up.
“Sit down now and rest,” Bucky's voice comes from behind you, his hands still on your shoulders.
“I'm sorry…” Your voice comes out in a whisper.
“You're forgiven kiddo, but ya gotta start taking your meds again.” Steve comes over and sits on the other side of you as he speaks.
“I know.”
“How bout I take my medication with ya? God knows that I haven't been taking it as much as I should be,” Tony chuckles as he tries to negotiate with you.
You didn't know if it would actually help you but you were open to the idea.
“Good, drink some more water. Now what do you want to watch? Hm? TV's all yours,” Tony stood up, giving you the TV remote as everyone decided to sit down on the couch.
You picked your comfort movie as you snuggled up with Steve and Nat. Tony had gotten you some actual food, and by the time the movie was over, you had drank all the water, ate all the food, fell asleep, and almost everyone else had fallen asleep as well. You felt safe with the people that cared about you all around you. You knew that this would be a journey, but you also knew that you weren't alone.
-~-~-~-~-~-~
Tag list: @fakegingerrights @macchiato-dreaming22 @silnebula
#the avengers#avengers x reader#avengers x teen!reader#avengers x platonic reader#natasha romanoff#tony stark#steve rogers#bucky barnes#bruce banner#fluff#angst#hurt/comfort#avengers angst#avengers fluff
695 notes
·
View notes
Note
sooooooo which of our comic yanderes would hurt darling?? be it accidentally or on purpose?? what would darling's injuries usually look like?? O3O
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓…
!!! GN reader, vague relationship dynamics, physical abuse, hitting, broken bones, biting, bruises, blunt force trauma, mention of a torn off ear in Bucky’s, scratches, brief mentions of amputation, I guess some subtle manipulation here and there, cigarette burns in Harvey’s, stomping, blood, razor blades in Peter’s, asphyxiation, needle marks and medical procedures in Reed’s, dislocated joints, obligatory Tim Drake warning.
Okay, I know I said I was channeling all of my creative energy into Older Brother part 4, BUT TO BE FAIR. I just totally fucked up my fingers and it reminded me of this ask from ages ago (YEAH, YEAH, I KNOW, AGES AGO). So now I’m coping by imagining my silly yandere men beating the shit out of me. You know, as you do.
Anyways, now that I got this out of my system, I’m back to work.
Bruce Wayne: I consider him a certified masochist, so if he ever gets to the urge to hurt someone, it’s gonna be himself before it’ll ever be you. Even if you wanna play around with a more sadistic Bruce, he’d much rather cave some poor criminal’s face in than to even think of laying a finger on yours. The most pain you’ll probably ever experience is him squeezing you too tight whenever he’s in one of his moods. Nothing too bad, just mild discomfort. Now, all this being said, on the off-chance that Bruce Wayne ever were to be abusive in any way, I personally see him as a face-hitter. Mostly back-handed strikes. And who knows… if you’re a fellow vigilante, he might see no problem with being a bit harsher with you.
Bucky Barnes: He’d never intentionally hurt you. But it definitely happens. Mental health issues and super soldier serum do not mix, so if you’re not someone who’s equipped to handle PTSD panic attacks from a walking weapon… good luck. It’s best to just keep your distance the moment he starts acting like a cornered animal. Possible injuries include bite marks, bruises, broken bones, blunt force trauma, torn off ears, scratches, missing skin chunks, and possible loss of limbs. If a chimpanzee can do it, so can Bucky. And that’s not even factoring in how rough Bucky can be in general. Expect rib-cracking hugs and finger-shattering hand-holding when he’s especially emotional about something. Bucky’s kind of like a domesticated tiger. Even if you condition him, there’s no guarantee that he won’t maul you.
Clark Kent: A broken bone or two is inevitable when it comes to Clark. Usually, he’s extremely conscientious on how much force he uses with you, but when you’ve got the super strength of a Kryptonian and the excitability of a golden retriever, accidents are bound to happen. And while he could theoretically use this as a way to keep you in line, it’s not something I see him doing on purpose. The closest to intentional harm you’ll probably ever get from him is the silent threat of breaking a bone. If you’re the type to lash out a lot, he may gently grab your wrist with a look of warning, applying more and more pressure until you finally decide to cut it out. Not his favorite thing to do by any means, but hey, it’s pretty effective. Especially if you’re the stubborn type who will keep fighting until your bones start to splinter under his grasp.
Dick Grayson: At most? Probably a bruised wrist. I don’t really see this talked about — because it’s extremely niche and not really worth talking about — but Dick definitely has monster grip strength from Arnis (I can vouch for this as someone whose sub-discipline in martial arts is Arnis… which is how I fucked up my fingers, but that’s neither here nor there). A particularly pissed off Dick Grayson might snatch you by the wrist, his fingers leaving behind dark imprints as he drags you off to god knows where. Other than that, he’s really not the type to beat up his darling. Maybe manhandle them a bit, but never actually strike them. However. I am willing to entertain the idea of a physically abusive Dick Grayson with a particularly difficult darling. And that’s not just me trying to make this work because I love the idea of him gently holding an ice pack to your face after he backhanded you into oblivion. Nope. Don’t know what you’re talking about.
Hal Jordan: In the heat of the moment, he absolutely will hit you. Does he feel guilty about it? Depends. But either way, you’ll be hard pressed to get a straightforward apology from him afterwards. Damn those Green Lanterns and their stubbornness. He’ll punch, slap, backhand, and smack you upside the head, so expect some bruises. And bite marks. Hal’s a big biter. The intensity depends on the nature of your relationship. Non-sexual? Just playful chomps that don’t leave behind much of a mark. Sexual? Bro will be drawing blood. You’ll definitely have to learn the art of covering up bruises and bite marks if Hal allows you out in public. Pro trip: while there’s no way to really control when he decides to bite, you can avoid being hit pretty. Just be agreeable whenever he’s pissed. As long as you don’t come off as confrontational, your chances of getting a black eye go down by a solid 70%.
Harvey Dent: Two Face can and will lay his hands on you. Punches, slaps, kicks, back hands, might even stomp on you every now and then. I can totally see him strangling you, too. Just one hand around your neck without a care for the damage he’s doing to your trachea. Now, I can’t recall a single run off the top of my head where Two Face/Dent has been depicted smoking, but like… the idea of him angrily putting out his cigarettes on your arm really compels me. Now, unfortunately, Harvey’s no better. It’s much more rare, but once in a blue moon, he’ll rock your shit with any of the above listed actions. After his rage subsides and he realizes what he’s done, he’ll have to take a moment to sit down with his head and silently cry to himself. He really is no different from his old man, is he? How the hell did he let himself fall so far from grace? All in all, expect bruises, broken bones, and cigarette burns from both Two Face and Dent. Yippee.
Jaime Reyes: Jaime wouldn’t dream of hurting you, but Khaji Da? If the ends justify the means, then harm might be necessary to scare you back into obedience. Any and all threats of you leaving the scarab’s host must be neutralized immediately; you’re a vital piece of Jaime’s contentment, after all. Whether Khaji Da has to manipulate Jaime or take total control over his body, you may find yourself being cut or burned by the Blue Beetle armor every now and then. Poor Jaime would be a sobbing, apologetic mess while he helps you with your wounds. He never wanted this for you, but the scarab… god, I love the fucked up relationship dynamic possibilities between Jaime and Khaji Da. Just an evil bug slowly driving some poor guy insane. Who knows, maybe it’ll get so bad that the scarab doesn’t even have to prompt Jaime to hurt you. But, again, this is only if Khaji Da deems it necessary. Having to hurt someone so precious to its host is very inconvenient.
Matt Murdock: He’s in the same boat as Dick when it comes to grip strength. Sometimes, he has to grab you a bit rougher than usual when he’s serious about something. This means lots of bruising all over your arms, face, and (most commonly) the little crook between your neck and shoulder. It’s usually not intentional — he can’t really see the damage he’s causing, after all — but there are times where he’s being so aggressive that his intentions start to muddy a bit. I can see Matt being the type to use a lot of intimidation against his darling, so inflicting a little pain upon you isn’t completely out of the question. At most, he’ll probably push you around or snatch you up. Nothing too serious. And for what it’s worth, he’s extremely apologetic about it afterwards. He doesn’t like being rough with you… it’s just sometimes so frustrating dealing with you. Surely, you can understand that, right?
Peter Parker: I honestly can’t really imagine a situation where Peter would hurt you. He’d rather cut off his own fingers and toes than hurt you in any way. Maybe he’d accidentally hurt you by squeezing you too hard (and in that case, you might break something due to his enhanced strength), but other than that, I’ve got nothing. Bro’s way too much of a pushover to lay a hand on you. Now, for the sake of getting a little creative, I can totally entertain the idea of slightly sadistic Peter. Maybe he likes to cut you up with a razor blade or bite you hard enough to break skin so he can lick up your blood. A little more sexually charged, but there’s probably a way to imagine this without the erotic undertones for those who want a more wholesomely dark dynamic.
Reed Richards: If you’re a disobedient little shit, I can see Reed just straight-up choking you out when he doesn’t feel like dealing with your antics. All he needs is two fingers pressing down on your carotids and voilà. Peace and quiet. Now he gets to carry on with whatever questionable procedure he was about to put you through. And on that note, you’ll probably have some needle marks on your arms, which… I don’t know if that counts as an injury per se, but yeah. Might have a surgical incision here and there, too. Just whatever Reed deems necessary to make you more compliant, be it drugs or some kind of operation. He’ll really only resort to choking you out if it’s the only thing at his disposal. Reed’s way too methodical to just straight-up hit you.
Remy LeBeau: Very low chance of him burning you. And you’d have to be, like, an aggressive little shit for that to happen. Remy hates the idea of hurting you, but if you’re actively trying to cause him harm, he’s not afraid to defend himself. All it takes is catching your fist, charge enough energy into your skin to heat it up, and you’re probably gonna wanna give up after that. Acts of self-defense aside, Remy just isn’t a violent guy. He’d rather be gentle than manhandle you. Will he playfully roughhouse? Sure. But he’s responsible enough to know what too far is, so even accidentally hurting you is extremely unlikely. If we imagine a sadistic version of Remy, I think he’d take more pleasure in your emotional distress than in laying his hands on you. The most he’d do is make you think he’s about to hurt you, only to blindside you with sickeningly sweetness.
Scott Summers: Ah, abusive Scott Summers, my beloved. Absolutely love the idea of him beating the shit out of you just to prove a point. He doesn’t even enjoy it or anything; if anything, he’ll probably have the audacity to say, “this hurts me more than it hurts you” while actively kneeing you in the face. Blood, bruises, broken bones... whatever he deems necessary for you to finally see his point. Even while he’s patching you up, he’s softly berating you about how wrong you were, and how he knows better than you. “It didn’t have to be like this,” he tuts while popping your shoulder back in place. Keep in mind that isn’t a common experience by any means, but it’s definitely something to keep in mind whenever he gets all stern with you. I suggest you start reevaluating your life choices the moment he says your name in that one tone of warning.
Steve Rogers: Not gonna lie, a sadistic Steve who makes you lick the blood off of his knuckles after he beats you to a bloody pulp goes hard as fuck, but we must stay focused. So!! General Yandere Steve comes with the average risks of someone with super strength. Might accidentally hurt you, might accidentally manhandle you, blah blah blah. A fracture every now and then is to be expected, though for what it’s worth, he is much better than Bucky in this regard. That being said, Steve’s not afraid to get a little rough. While it’s not his favorite thing to do by any means, he can’t help the frustration he feels whenever you don’t listen to him, enough so that maybe — just maybe — he might snatch you by the wrist, or jaw, or throat and threaten you to behave. There’d probably only be a single instance of him intentionally breaking one of your bones, and that’s if you’re especially difficult to deal with. The guilt would be so bad that he swore to never do it again… though he may find himself thinking about it every now and then.
Tim Drake: Timothy “Jigsaw” Drake. We’d be here forever if we started listing all of the ways he could harm you. Not out of a sadistic pleasure, either (well, not usually, anyway… he’s too much of a masochist to actively feed into his sadistic side). He just spirals so far into his paranoia and delusions that he genuinely thinks stitching your legs together is a reasonable thing to do!! When it comes to Tim, any sort of ailment you could possibly inflict on another human being is on the table, from amputation to organ failure. You better pray you can hold out long enough until he finally snaps out of whatever weird episode he’s having. General rule of thumb, if you ever see Tim staring at you with any sort of tool or surgical instrument, immediately make a b-line towards the nearest room with a lock and pray. Do not go to sleep for the next several hours. Preferably, get something to protect yourself with. Have fun!!
Wally West: He’s not afraid to get a little physical when it comes to punishments. And by “a little,” I mean clean breaks and dislocations. It’s not his first resort by any means, but if you’re very persistent about breaking his rules, then you might find out the hard way just how much pent up aggression Wally has. He likes going for joints specifically. Snapping elbows in half, stomping on ankles, bending fingers the wrong way… it’s honestly a bit scary to think about how much damage a speedster can cause. I think he’d have a code word for when he’s about to that far. Something discreet, like, “you’re really pushing your luck, sunshine.” He’d say it in such a casual, joking tone that no one around you would pick up the implications. But the moment you’re away from prying eyes, you know what’s about to happen. I highly suggest behaving if you don’t want to be the darling that “falls down the stairs” a lot. Clumsy little thing, aren’t you?
#❥ CALL INCOMING: DO YOU LIKE SCARY MOVIES?#❥ TW: YANDERE#❥ YANDERE CHARACTER#❥ PLATONIC YANDERE#❥ ROMANTIC YANDERE#❥ YANDERE BRUCE WAYNE#❥ YANDERE BUCKY BARNES#❥ YANDERE CLARK KENT#❥ YANDERE DICK GRAYSON#❥ YANDERE HAL JORDAN#❥ YANDERE HARVEY DENT#❥ YANDERE JAIME REYES#❥ MATT MURDOCK X READER#❥ YANDERE PETER PARKER#❥ YANDERE REED RICHARDS#❥ YANDERE REMY LEBEAU#❥ YANDERE SCOTT SUMMERS#❥ YANDERE STEVE ROGERS#❥ YANDERE TIM DRAKE#❥ YANDERE WALLY WEST#❥ YANDERE VARIOUS X READER#❥ GN READER
189 notes
·
View notes
Text
FOUND YOU
Invincible & Blue Diamond!Reader
^^pov you nuzzling mark
(yes these will be put in parts)
these bbls killin yall 🥀🥀
i never really watched steven universe so ive been doing super duper research and hope i got the idea of her character right
and this might just be platonic rather than romantic idk
if theres any romance in this it might be cecil and/or nolan
1.5k words tho i might be a beast (/j 🥀)
fic under the cut :P

“Mark, there’s some kind of giant that’s causing tsunamis, hurricanes, and some real fucked up storms up on the west coast. It’s also abducting people at random! I need you to go and settle this immediately! Before more lives are lost and more people go missing!”
Cecil’s voice cuts out from the comm in Mark’s ear. Mark sighed, he was enjoying his time chatting and having a nice barbecue with his friends. Rolling his shoulders and stretching out his limbs, Mark stands, preparing himself for what could be a possible fight.
“Well! See you guys later, I guess.”
Mark makes a move to walk away from the group before Eve speaks up.
“Another mission from Cecil? God, he can’t give you a break, can he? I mean, you just got back from those two bank robbers who do the same shit every week. What is it now?”
Putting her hand on her hip, Eve is very unhappy with how Cecil is overworking Mark. She stepped away from the team to do her things to help the world and stop being badgered around by the old fart. Why couldn’t Mark do the same? Sure, he needs to get his mind off of things after what happened with his dad, but he needs to know his limits…
“Some… giant on the west coast… Nothing big! Nothing I can’t handle. It’ll be quick! I’ll- I’ll be back for some more wings though!”
Mark’s expression goes from confident to a bit nervous. Yeah, he’s been in this hero business for about a year and a half, but giants were still a bit troublesome to him. Preparing to take off soaring into the sky, he stops after Rex speaks up.
“Hey, man! Why don’t we come and help!”
“Oh- no that’s not- you don’t have to…”
Rex gets up, a big stupid grin on his face. Placing his hands on his civilian clothes, he explodes them into his hero suit.
“If the giant is nothing big then we could come with and wrap things up quickly and have a long time needed beach vacation! We could beat that giant and tan in the sand afterward! And if Cecil needs the Guardians, then fuck him! He can have Samson and Immortal help him out!”
Monster Girl giggles, getting up along with Rudy. Rae smiles, standing up as well, and placing her hands on her hips.
“That’s not a bad idea. I’m so down for a beach day!”
“Then it’s settled! Robot! Fire up your little doohickey and let’s go take down a giant!”
The others exclaim in agreement and preparing for the trip over to California, Mark smiles warmly. He is so happy to have some hero friends like them. Even if they’ve had their arguments and scuffles from time to time (mostly from Rex), he’s still grateful to have allies and friends with them.
————————————————————————
Sighing, you look down at the tiny humans running rampant. Scanning everyone as much as you could, one caught your eye. Is that who you’re looking for? Reaching your hand out, you grab the human’s arm, dragging him up towards you.
The human screams out in pain as his shoulder dislocates from your handling. Dangling him in front of your hooded face, he looked close to who you were looking for. Mustache and seemingly young. It has to be him. It has to be Nolan. He’s probably the closest one you’ve found so far, along with the other 34 humans you’ve caught.
Humming, you move to put him in the bubble you have trailing behind you. A bubble that contains the aforementioned other 34 humans you’ve taken. The bubble wasn’t super uncomfortable for them— it contained little rock formations you found, along with fruits and fountains that could prove useful to them ever if they needed it.
Before you could place him in the bubble, you hear a whizzing sound, then boom! The human is gone!
“Wh-what?”
Flipping around, you search for him, before locking eyes on some pink figure floating a couple of yards in front of you. The same pink figure is holding your human.
You reach out to take him back from the random figure before the pink figure begins to fly towards the shore. Panicking a bit, you move through the ocean and follow her.
“Give him back!”
Now being closer to shore, you’re also closer to the flying pink thing. Reaching out once more, you flinch back as some sort of projectile hits your hand, blowing up on impact.
Whipping over to see what that was, you see a bunch of humans on, what looks to be a flying rubbish contraption, another projectile is thrown at you. The human throwing them laughing maniacally, obviously getting a kick out of hitting you with the explosives.
Grunting and getting annoyed very quickly, you watch the contraption fly around you. A robot on the contraption begins shooting beams at you, not like it was doing anything to you, just irritating you more. And as if those things weren’t annoying enough, some green ogre thing jumped off and gave you a mean left hook to the face before landing back on the contraption.
“Grrngh- enough!”
Swatting the contraption out of the air, the humans (and robot) rush off of it in order not to get injured. You reach out to grab them but then, the pink thing comes back, wrapping some kind of pink rope around you. Struggling to move, you get ready to break out of it before another flying being, this time a male, comes at you with a right hook. The force of it knocks you down completely. You gasp, knowing only one being who had that kind of strength.
Now down on the ground, bound by the pink bonds from the pink figure, you look up at what brought you down.
“Nolan?”
Gasping heavily, a blue aura comes from your body in waves, causing the ocean to stir and also causing the heroes in front of you to weep profusely. Tears coming down your face as well.
With Eve now feeling immense sadness, her powers begin to weaken. She looks to the others as they’re now groveling in the sand sobbing. Even Rex! She looks out to the coastline and sees the waves crashing into each other and coming to the shore in big waves. Gasping and looking back to Mark, she sees him staggering in the air, feeling the effects of the giant woman’s power as well. Not as much as them though, due to his Viltrumite genes.
Before the waves could sweep up her and the team and possibly drown them, she used the last of her strength to gather the team and fly them out of the giant’s range so they could recuperate.
“Mark! W-we’ll come back-! Urgh-!”
Mark nods to her in acknowledgment and understanding and Eve takes off with the team. Seeing that they’re gone, Mark flings himself at you, hoping that another few punches would make you stop inflicting this feeling on him and any possible person within a 30-mile radius.
Getting closer and closer to you, he reels his hand back mustering whatever strength he could into his fist. He is stopped though, your hands immediately clasping around him, bringing him closer to your face. Your hood coming down, Mark could see your face in full clarity and the giant tears that were treading from your eyes. You were… ethereal…
“Nolan! I finally have you back!”
Through your tears, you smile greatly, your aura intensifying and your waves getting bigger. Mark looks at you in confusion, his head tilting.
“What?”
Bringing him closer to your face, you nuzzle your cheek against him. Your ginormous tears almost drowning him, he sputters trying to find air. You pull him away from your face a little, fully taking in his appearance before gasping.
“You look worse than ever! In what universe could that possibly be fine?!”
Now bellowing loudly, you crunch over on your knees, sobbing.
“I’ve waited thousands of years for you to come back… Now look at you… Weak… Frail… How can you come back to Homeworld looking like this?”
Oh… The giant woman thinks Mark is his father. …Awkward. Mark squirms uncomfortably. You’re a bit calmer now though. Your saddening aura lessening substantially. The tears on Mark’s face slow down but yours still go. Mark’s vision beginning to clear up, and he finally got a good enough look at you. Long hair, long lashes, blue skin, curvy. Damn. He quickly tried to speak about the moment on hand. The unnatural disasters and the abducted people. But, the only thing on his mind right now is how you know his father and what your relations are with him.
“Uh- The- Where’s-? I’m not- Well- I don’t-“
You place a giant finger on his lips, shushing him.
“No, no. Don’t speak. You must save your voice and energy for the trial.”
“Trial? What trial?”
“Why, yours, of course.”
What. What’d his father do this time?!
#invincible#invincible x reader#platonic maybe#mark grayson#idk i tried to make it like the show where blue kept calling steve pink diamond but instead itd be you referring to mark as nolan#but then it felt weird so i was like fuck it this might js be platonic w mark#nolan grayson#omni man#cecil stedman
366 notes
·
View notes
Note
could i request playing suck and blow at a house party and steve deliberately drops the card to kiss reader? like in clueless lol
Your wish is my command.
Steve x Reader
TW: Implied drunk sex, drinking



Boy. Girl. Boy. Girl. Boy. Girl.
Steve. Robin. Eddie. Nancy. Billy. Carol. Tommy. You.
Eight bodies sit in a tight circle at the center of the Harrington home. It’s not a typical Saturday night. Steve’s parents are out of town for the weekend and what started as a small gathering somehow turned into a rager, has now dwindled down into just a small gathering once again.
It’s nearly three in the morning. You’re tired, and you’re absolutely drunk, and you aren’t exactly sure why Eddie was so incessant on playing this game, but the promise of cuddling up next to Nancy in the guest bedroom if you’d just get it over with is too good to surpass.
You sit back on your palms and observe everyone surrounding you. Nancy’s eyes are half lidded and she’s slurring something unintelligible while leaning against Eddie’s arm. Billy is looking at Carol with the same smile he gives Mrs. Wheeler at the pool and neither of them seem to care that Tommy is nearby. Robin’s tired, you can tell. Her mom was supposed to pick her up a half hour ago. On the other side of you is possibly the only person other than yourself who still has a semblance of their own bearings.
Or it seems that way, at least.
Steve has been fucking shitting himself all night.
“What, are you just gonna keep watching her from across the room like some… forlorn lover?” Eddie had teased him earlier in the night. And to his credit, Steve had been staring.
He couldn’t help it. He had just enough liquid courage in his veins to help him stand on the precipice of making a move, without ever really being brave enough to take that leap.
Besides, it’s just easier to watch from afar, isn’t it? No ruining the “friends-of-friends” relationship that the two of you have. No making things weird if things go south. And things do tend to go south for Steve.
Once party goers began to say their goodbyes, Eddie had whispered his idea to Steve between a shared cigarette by the pool. And Steve had agreed. That fucking liquid courage had allowed him to, but where was it now?
Steve sits beside you screaming internally. He can feel the heat of your fingers where they sit only inches from his. The plush meat of your thigh presses snug against his knee, Eddie had insisted that everyone squeeze in as tight as possible. He swears he can smell you. The cherry vodka that you’ve been taking shots of all night with Nance. It weeps off of your breath every time you throw your head back with laughter and Steve has purposefully stayed away from that bottle all night just so he can taste the cordial sweetness on your tongue for the first time.
“Suck. And. Blow.” Eddie’s words are loud and demanding of attention, but sexual. And for good reason.
He has a cheeky grin on his face, an ace of spades fixed between two fingers. All eyes are on him, but unfortunately for you, you’ve caught his attention.
“Only fair that the birthday girl start us out, right? Counter clockwise.” He holds the card across the circle and you look at him with surprise.
“Why do I have to pass it to fucking Tommy?” You spit while snatching the card from his hand.
“Because we’re not giving Hargrove the chance to plant one on my girl,” Tommy juts in quietly enough that Billy apparently doesn’t hear him.
Which is a fair argument, you can’t lie.
You roll your eyes. Just one game. That’s the only thing standing between you and sleep.
The circle quiets as you bring the card to your lips. Had this been earlier in the night, it might’ve stuck to your lipgloss and Tommy would’ve really had to suck to get it loose. It rests loosely against your parted mouth now, your breath caught in your chest as you turn toward Tommy and lean in. One stutter in your lungs and you’ll be fighting Carol in the fucking driveway for planting one on her man.
You don’t drop it, though. Tommy leans toward you and kisses you through the card. Even with that protection you can tell he’s uncoordinated and eager.
From his lips to Carol’s, from Carol’s to Billy’s, from Billy’s to Nancy and so on. It feels drawn out. Everyone has to make a thing out of their kiss, don’t they?
You watch through bleary eyes as Robin passes the card from her lips to Steve, thrilled that this is finally over.
Until Steve turns toward you, ace of spades still pressed against his mouth.
Sleep who? You're more awake than ever. You freeze for a second as he begins to inch closer, unsure now of how this game works or what you're even supposed to do.
But then Steve waves you toward him. With the forward, "come here" motion of his two fingers, Steve nods. Somehow reassuring you that this is okay, this is standard. Right?
So why are you only just realizing how thick his lashes are? They frame his warm chestnut eyes beautifully, enhancing the summer tan sitting on his skin and the freckles accompanying it. Of course you've thought about Steve Harrington like this before, at least mildly. Everyone has. But now it feels...
His eyes start to flutter closed as his face nears, his head tilting to seemingly fit yours. Normal, fine. Your heart doesn't drop until you feel those same two fingers he'd used to beckon you forward on your thigh. Tracing your skin, brushing the plush flesh of your outer knee just gently enough for a chill to settle over your skin.
Steve's nose tickles the tip of yours, his forehead coming to rest against your own. You can smell his cologne so well, the vanilla and cedar tones that smother your sinuses. It’s almost strong enough for you to taste, the alcohol on his tongue permeating through the air and coming nearly close enough for it to bleed onto your tongue, if it weren’t for the card protecting his lips.
Except now there isn’t a card protecting his lips.
You see a flash of bubblegum pink, his flushed lips becoming visible as the ace of spades slips between your bodies. It happens quickly: his free hand in your hair, your mouth being pressed against his, the hoot and holler of guests surrounded you at a deafening volume.
But now you know what Steve’s tongue tastes like. He slips it past your lips, presses it against your teeth until you grant him access to your curious mouth, and then you taste the shots he’s been taking all night. Intoxicating a rich, pouring down your throat to intoxicate you further.
You don’t know when, but your hand moves up. You find the collar of his shirt, dragging him toward you even in the close proximity. Steve hesitates at first. His fingers stiffen in your hair as he forgets how this works. Is he supposed to pull back? Climb on top of you? Instead, his other hand reaches for the loop of your jeans.
“Everyone get the fuck out,” he mumbles against your lips, and no one seems to hear him but he’s still pulling you forward. Pawing at your waist, reaching for the button on your pants and kissing you over and over and fucking over again.
“I said everyone get the fuck out!” Steve shouts this time.
And the hoots and hollers die into laughter and scrambling feet, car keys jangling and a front door slamming. Your back meets the Harrington living room carpet and you feel Steve’s hot breath move down your chin, over your throat until he reaches your chest.
Maybe you can do without sleep for just a little bit longer.
#stranger things#stranger things fic#steve harrington#steve harrington short#steve harrington x you#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#platonic stobin
603 notes
·
View notes
Text
You Were My Sunshine
Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.
Word Count: 3K
A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.
Masterlist
“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.
You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.
“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.
“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.
“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.
“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”
Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.
You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.
Your life is an open book.
Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.
You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere.
It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.
At least that’s how the team sees it.
They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:
Don’t worry about it.
After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it.
Everyone except Bucky.
It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.
Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.
That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.
He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane.
He just needs you. to know.
So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.
He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.
You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.
You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.
Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.
He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.
Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.
He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.
Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.
It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?
But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.
So why do it in secret?
After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.
Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.
He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.
After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.
It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.
So why don’t the Avengers?
You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.
You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.
He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.
He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.
“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”
You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.
“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.
A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.
Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.
You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.
“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”
Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.
“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.”
Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.
“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.
“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.
That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.
He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.
Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.
But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.
And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.
“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”
He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.
“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.
It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.
You are my sunshine
Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing.
My only sunshine
Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.
Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.
You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.
You make me happy, when skies are gray
You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little.
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you
Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.
Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away
Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.
Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these.
Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...
Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.
His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.
Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.
“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.
For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.
“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.
“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”
Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.
“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”
“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.
“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”
His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.
Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.
“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.
“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”
You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.
But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...
So you let him.
You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.
“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”
Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.
“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”
You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering.
“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”
His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.
With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.
In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.
This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.
And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.
Drabble
#bucky barnes#avengers x reader#bucky barnes x you#steve rogers#tony stark#avengers x platonic!reader#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#marvel fanfiction#clint barton
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Natasha: *before a mission* Who’s turn is it to give a pep talk?
Steve: *sighs* Y/N’s…
Y/N: *stands dramatically on the table* All right, people, let’s fuck shit up out there and not die!
Tony: *wipes away a fake tear* So inspirational
#avengers incorrect quotes#avengers x reader#avengers#mcu#mcu incorrect quotes#mcu x reader#steve rogers x reader platonic#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader platonic#tony stark x reader#tony stark#tony stark x reader platonic
13K notes
·
View notes
Text
I miss when the Avengers hung out, Thor ate Poptarts, Loki moved in, Natasha did Ballet, Clint was in the vents, Steve couldn't cook and was drawing, Bucky and Sam were bickering, Tony and Bruce were in the lab, Wanda cooking, going to school with Peter.
…it was never real but I miss it.
#mcu peter parker#mcu x platonic!reader#mcu x reader#mcu fandom#marvel mcu#mcu#mcu loki#mcu imagine#mcu fanfiction#marvel cinematic universe#marvel#marvel fanfiction#marvel x reader#peter parker x chubby!reader#peter parker#tony stark#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#girlblogging#this is what makes us girls#im just a girl#just girly things#this is a girlblog#girl blogger#blogging#girlhood#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff#marvel x you#marvel x y/n
334 notes
·
View notes
Text
Y/n: Why is Bucky so sad?
Steve: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes.
Y/n: And...?
Tony: He got Peter.
Bucky: *sobbing*
Y/n: Poor Bucky.
Peter: *standing there the whole time* I hate all of you.
#mcu#marvel#mcu incorrect quotes#the avengers#avengers x platonic reader#avengers x reader#steve rogers x reader#tony stark x reader#bucky barnes x reader#peter parker x reader
353 notes
·
View notes