#tell me this isn't a steve rogers song!

[tldrthor]

Come find me - peter parker x avenger!female!reader

Part two to promises, oceans deep // we both did the best we could do underneath the same moon, and in different galaxies // based on the song 'Peter' by Taylor Swift

Summary: you thought you would get over him, but you never did. It takes getting hurt, and Cap looking out for you, for you to finally get your head straight.

Author's notes: I ignore a lot of post-endgame stuff. Steve never left, Wanda isn't evil, Peter was never forgotten. I've left reader and Peter's ages semi-ambiguous, so you can decide for yourself what age you think is appropriate!

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You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Peter opened his eyes slowly, the light streaming in from the window attacking them. He must have fallen asleep without closing the curtains last night. As he came to, he realised what day it was. And a chill ran through his body.

"Peter!" May called. "Peter, get up! We're going to be late!" She rushed into the room, her nose curling up in disgust at presumably, the smell of depressed teenage boy. "God, we have to open a window in here. It's toxic."

He huffed, and rolled away from her. "May, I don't want to go." He had spoken about this with her already. He knew that Ned and MJ were going, but he didn't want to. He couldn't go, when she wasn't going to be there.

"Is it because of (y/n)?" May's voice was soft, gentle. Like she was talking to a scared, little animal. He hated the pity laced in her words. "I'm sorry she's not going to be there sweetheart, you know she's got a lot going on with rebuilding the Avengers."

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

He swallowed, sadness crossing his face, but May didn't see it. "She's avoiding me, anyways."

Words from the mouths of babes, promises, oceans deep. But never to keep. Oh, never to keep.

May didn't say anything to Peter, but she thought it was for the best. She knew how devastating it was, for both of you, to come back to see one of you had kept moving, while the other stayed in place. She saw, in the few weeks following the battle at the compound, how you looked like you was going to be sick every time you were around Peter.

She saw how you barely talked, barely smiled, barely did anything.

She hadn't been around for the five long years between the snaps, but from what she talked about with Captain Rogers, you had taken the losses particularly badly.

Snapping back to the present, she looked at Peter and wondered if you would ever find your way back to one another. She made a mental note to ask Steve how you were doing when she saw him later.

"Let's go, come on." She held his shoulder and gave it a shake. "Your parent's would've killed me if I ever let you skip your graduation."

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The day was a blur. MJ and Ned gave him a hug on arrival, knowing that he didn't want to be here. All he could feel was the loss sitting heavy on his chest. Tony wasn't here. Natasha wasn't here. His parents weren't here. Uncle Ben. You.

There were photos and smiles and drinks. He forced himself to get through it, for May, if nothing else.

Steve gave him a big hug as soon as he saw him, knowing that he was a poor replacement for who Peter really wanted to see. "Hey! Congratulations, Pete!" He gave him a signature pat on the shoulder as Peter muttered a 'thanks, cap' back at him. Steve continued; "(y/n) sends her regards, she's sorry she couldn't come."

Peter bitterly thought that Steve was just telling him what he wanted to hear. He knew that if you wanted to be here, you would have made it happen. He wanted to be mad... but he knew this day would be too painful for you, too.

I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn. As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return.

At dinner, he was distracted. MJ and Ned were talking about the latest political news -- MJ talked about some senators voting record, while Ned relayed funny memes he had found on instagram about her. This obviously descended into chaos.

Peter was more interested in the conversation going on at the other end of the table, between May and Steve.

"So tell me, how is (y/n)?" May asked, looking at your guardian.

He looked almost... resigned. He breathed out, worry lines creasing his forehead. Peter could nearly feel the worry radiating off of him. "She's doing... okay. She's throwing herself into work at the moment, somewhere in Europe. It's all tightly under wraps, but she's an amazing agent these days."

May smiled, weakly. She knew that an avenger 'throwing themselves into work' was a worrying symptom of an emotional storm. She could see it in her own kid.

"Well, tell her we were asking for her when you talk to her next."

"I will. Thanks, May."

Peter had to know more. It was like a burning, aching in his chest. He watched as Steve silently ate his pasta, something - you - on his mind. He knew Steve hadn't said everything to May. Peter longed for the days where he would've known what you were up to.

"Pete, will you tell him to not infantilise politicians!" MJ finally snapped him out of it. Ned laughed at her outburst.

Peter snapped his head back to them. "Yeah, yeah. Ned, it's like... not good for democracy. Or whatever." He felt bad actually, because it was a good point. He just didn't have the energy to back her up right now.

"Ugh! They are employed for us." She groaned.

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Peter's back was aching. He stretched it out, trying to power through the ache that came with changing position. Shit, he looked at the clock. It was 3am, and he had been sitting working on this assignment for way, way longer than he anticipated.

Just as he stood up to get ready for bed, his phone flashed, illuminating the room.

"What. the. hell." He said to no one. It was a text from you. God, he hadn't even seen you in more than a year now. Whenever you returned from the top-secret missions you were sent on, you were always mysteriously busy whenever Pete was free, or around. He knew you stayed at Cap's new townhouse in Brooklyn with him, but every time Peter went around, you had always just left. And every single time, Steve gave him a pitying smile while informing him that you had really urgent business to return to, but you were really sorry to miss him.

Are you up?

The text message read. Peter felt like he went through all the stages of grief reading it. He opened it immediately, cursing and praying to Jesus that he didn't have read receipts on. He hurriedly swiped off the message app when the typing bubble came up again.

Not a booty call, I promise.

He almost laughed at that. Almost.

Yeah, are you okay? He replied.

As soon as he had sent it, there was a tap tap tap at the window. He froze for a moment, his heart beat reaching an almost crescendo.

And then, he was moving.

He ripped back the curtain, threw open the window. And there you were. Hunched in the darkness of the fire escape, in a way that immediately, Peter knew something was wrong.

"(y/n)? What are you doing - are you hurt?" He watched as you moved at a near snail's pace from the way you were uncomfortably slumped on the fire escape to enter his room.

The light barely lit up the soft, painful smile as you looked up at him. "Hi, Pete." There was almost a slur in your words. Peter's eyebrows knitted together in both confusion and concern. His arms found your waist as he supported you in moving in through the window and to his bed.

Once you were settled, he strode across the room and flicked the small lamp on. He did not like what he saw.

Although your suit was black, he could tell that it was nearly soaked through with blood. Your nose was trickling blood steadily, and there was a large patch of crimson next to your ear, on your hairline. The skin he could see was littered with bruises even where it wasn't streaked with blood.

"Shit, (y/n)." He dove under his bed, to where he kept the first aid stuff from when he went out patrolling. He ran his hands through it, quickly finding suture material and bandages.

Thank god he had restocked recently, or you could've been in serious trouble. To be honest, you were in trouble either way.

He tried to triage your wounds. From what he could tell, the gash on your side that you were holding seemed to be where a lot of the blood on your torso was coming from. "You're, uhh... going to have to take off your suit, so I can see the damage."

He flushed as he said it. And he swore that he could see your face getting warmer, too. But he was so preoccupied on, you know, not letting you die, that he didn't properly register it.

"Sure, yeah." You reached your arm around to the zip, but as you moved your wounds screamed in pain. You hissed through your teeth and swore, quietly. You were all too aware that May was probably sleeping in the room next door, and you had to be quiet.

Peter reached out, "Let me help," He spoke under his breath. He unzipped you and you slowly shuffled off your suit, wearing some gym shorts and a sports bra underneath.

With the suit off, Peter could see exactly the kind of state you were in. Not only from the fight you had obviously been in, but you also looked unhealthy, almost weak. He remembered a you that always looked so strong, sturdy. This wasn't the person he was seeing in front of him now.

There were scars that were recent but clearly had begun to heal, there was bruises over every part of your body. The biggest gash on your side oozed thick, maroon blood. Looking at your face, he could see that your cheekbones were nearly hollow, your eyes sunken, and the bags under them unmistakeable.

Nothing like the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed teenager he used to love.

"What happened?" He looked into your eyes as he began to tend to the wounds. Which was difficult, considering you were more wound than human at this point. He cleaned up around you gash, and then muttered 'this is going to hurt' as he began to exhibit the skills you had learned from Steve's mandatory 'basic field medicine' course a few years back.

"Ow, fuck." You mumbled, your voice strained. "I got into a fight."

"Well, yeah. I had actually figured that one out." He didn't look at you for concentrating on stitching. "A little more explanation would be good."

You breathed out slowly through the pain. "Okay, I got into a big fight."

He rolled his eyes. He clearly wasn't going to get very much information from you.

"Was it a mission?" He asked.

"No, it was - jesus." You cursed once again. It was really hard to talk while someone was continuously piercing a needle into your abdomen. "Extracurricular, you could say."

He looked up. "(y/n), this doesn't look like just a quick neighbourhood patrol." He knew you were keeping information from him because you thought he wouldn't approve.

"Why did you come here?"

You broke his eye contact. "I was nearby, and Brooklyn is a hell of a trek when you can't swing through the city." He nodded, it was a logical answer. He would always welcome you here, no matter what happened between you guys personally. He was glad you seemed to know that. "And... Cap can't know about this."

Peter's concern seemed to grow with everything you said, and you could clearly see it on his face.

"Please, Peter... He's worried already, I know it. And he's semi-retired, he deserves to rest without worrying about me." You pleaded.

He was slow to accept what you were saying. "But he's practically your dad, (y/n), he raised you. You don't think he would want to know that you're injured? Badly injured, might I add. I don't think this is even something our medical training can cover..."

You raised an eyebrow. "So, you tell Aunt May every time you get hurt?"

"Well, I've not been hurt as badly as you have."

"And if you were, you would tell her?"

He broke eye contact, and looked away. You didn't have to acknowledge out loud that he knew you were right.

With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you learned. 'Cause loves never lost when perspective is earned.

The silence that hung in the air was an awkward one. It suddenly caught up to you both, what was happening. Sitting in your shorts and sports bra, on the boy you used to date's bed. The same boy you had successfully managed to avoid for the best part of a year -- with the exception of Steve's christmas party last year. Just thinking about the awkward, heart-achy small talk made a shiver roll down your spine.

"Do you want to stay here?"

The question felt loaded. Want? Need? The lines were blurred.

"If... that's okay? I can't go back to Steve's like this."

He nodded. "You know you're always welcome here. You take the bottom bunk, obviously.” He smiled.

These bunk beds used to annoy the hell out of the both of you. You just wanted to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, but May and Cap had insisted that if you were going to stay round, it had to be bunk beds. And the door had to stay open.

The nostalgia made your eyes sting. It didn’t take a lot to do that these days, to be fair.

Peter jumped into the top bunk, and switched the light off. “Goodnight, (y/n).” He whispered, softly, to the darkness.

“Night, Pete.” You muttered in return.

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That night was the best sleep you’ve had since… hell, you couldn’t even remember when. It was probably the blood loss, or…

No, it was definitely the blood loss. For sure.

A sweet scent caught your attention as you adjusted your eyes to the sunlight filtering through the moth-eaten curtains. And the noise… music, clanging of pots, mumbling.

You checked your phone. “Well, shit.”

7.24am. 38 missed calls from “Cap 🦅🫡”.

There were texts as well.

2am: Everything okay? When should I expect you back?

2.24am: Sweetheart?

3.46am: (y/n), I’m getting worried, what’s going on?

4am: Okay, stop playing now. Call me.

6am: You’re in big trouble if this isn’t an emergency, kid.

Shit, shit, shit.

You jolted up, immediately letting out a yelp of pain as you remembered exactly why you were here in the first place. Fuck.

You pressed your hand to your stomach, with a little blood coming away with your hand. Shoddy workmanship, you laughed. You would have to sort it later.

Pulling on your suit from yesterday - thankfully, the blood stains blended in with the dark material - you realised getting home inconspicuously wasn’t going to be super easy. You listened to whatever was going on in the kitchen, the music that you recognised from when you and Peter were together. It all felt so familiar. Too familiar.

And you said you’d come and get me but you were 25, and the shelf life of those fantasies had expired. Lost to the lost boys chapter of your life, Forgive me Peter, please know that I tried to hold on, to the days where you were mine.

You weren’t proud of it, but you opened the window, and climbed out.

You didn’t see Peter’s face fall when he returned to the room, with a stack of pancakes in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. You didn’t see him stare at the smiley face made of whipped cream, mutter “I’m an idiot” and throw the stack away.

You didn’t see the tears fall.

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The aches and pains that pulsed through your body only grew worse the closer you got to Cap’s house. Climbing the stairs felt like a mammoth task, but as you got to the top and put your key in, the door opened -

He was mad mad. You stood in a sort of pseudo-staring contest for what felt like a long time, unsure whether or not it would be appropriate to look away. His eyebrows were furrowed further than you had ever seen, bags under his eyes larger than they had been for a long time.

“Get inside.” He borderline hissed at you. You didn’t respond, just walked. Slowly, subconsciously covering your bleeding side with your arm.

As you walked into the living room, familiar voices greeted you.

“What time do you call this?” Bucky stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed.

Sam sat on the couch in front of him, nursing a cup of coffee. Coffee so strong, you could smell it from the other side of the room. “You look like shit.”

You looked down. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

Steve put a firm hand on your shoulder. Still wordless. He pushed you towards the couch, and then down onto it.

He sat next to Sam on the one opposite, Bucky moving to sit on the other side of him. It felt like a judging panel. You supposed that’s exactly what it was.

“Explain.” Steve started. His gaze not becoming any kinder as he looked at you.

“I was with a friend-” You started.

“Which one?” Steve asked, pointedly.

You swallowed. “Um,”

“You’re lying, (y/n).” He folded his arms and leaned back. “I phoned all of your friends, you weren’t with any of them. You said to Sam after training yesterday that you were heading straight home, and here you waltz in nearly 12 hours later. Tell the truth.”

“Fine.” You sighed. You knew he was telling the truth, there was no point trying to call his bluff. “I was at Peter’s.”

You watched every one of them raise an eyebrow at the same time, nearly comedically timed. Steve sat forward in his seat.

“Parker’s? Why?” He tilted his head at you. You were glad that the anger seemed to have somewhat subsided, but you weren’t in the clear yet.

You swallowed. “I, uh…”

Sam started laughing. “Oh my god, (y/n)… you dog!” He looked at Bucky and Steve, who painfully slowly caught on to what he was referring to.

“No! No, no. No. Not that, it wasn’t like that.” You felt the heat in your cheeks and prayed that it wasn’t showing to them too, although something in Sam’s gleeful expression, Steve’s embarrassed blush and Bucky’s quiet enjoyment of the situation suggested otherwise.

“(y/n), I’m at a loss right now.” Steve shook his head. “I don’t understand. Lately, you’ve been disappearing, being secretive - I mean, last I heard you didn’t want to be around Pete at all. And now you stayed at his with no explanation whatsoever, when we were all out looking for you last night?”

Your heart sank, thinking of them worried and out on the streets looking for you. You never could lie to them for long - you should just come clean.

You gave a big sigh. “I got hurt while trying to stop a robbery in Queens, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

With that, they all sat up straight. Grim expressions replaced the more relaxed ones that you had fought so hard to keep.

“Hurt? Where?” Steve immediately stood up from his spot and marched over to your couch, scanning you over with his eyes.

You pulled your hand away from the side, where it had stayed for the duration of this interrogation. It was covered in blood.

All three men immediately jumped into action upon seeing the blood. "Woah!" Sam shouted, running for the extensive medical kit Steve kept in the kitchen.

Steve knitted his eyebrows together while putting his arm around you, looking into your eyes, presumably looking for any sort of concussion or mental delay. "You've been sitting here bleeding this whole time?" He sighed, and then sort of mumbled under his breath, "What is going on with you?"

Bucky grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and brought it over to you. "Drink it, you need sugar." You could tell from his tone that he was annoyed.

"Thanks, Buck." You whispered in return.

You watched your adoptive father's worried expression as he looked at the wounds you had sustained, and the haphazard stitches that Peter had put in last night (and the blood coming through them where they hadn't been done properly).

He fixed you, properly, and bandaged the stitches just to be sure. Sam and Bucky hand him things, making jokes occasionally that you smile at, but it does nothing to improve the cloudy look in Steve's eyes.

"Guys, can you give us a second." He ushers Bucky and Sam out of the room. Sam gets up and leads Bucky away, who still looked furious. You knew he probably wasn't this pissed off at you, and rather the people who had hurt you, but you couldn't be entirely sure. Once you're alone, Cap comes and sits next to you on the couch. "Do you have wounds anywhere else?"

You shake your head. "Just bruises and minor cuts, nothing big."

"Okay," He pursed his lips. "Let's talk then."

You avoided meeting his eyes.

"Tell me what's going on, in there." He tapped the side of your head, just like he used to do when you were a teenager at the Compound upstate. Before everyone came back.

You sighed. "I feel like an asshole." He put a friendly hand on your shoulder. "I'm really sorry for worrying you, and Sam and Bucky. I'm trying not to do that, at all. That's why I didn't come back last night."

He sighs. "Sweetheart, you should never be worrying about me. It's my job to worry about you." He puts a loving arm round your shoulder.

He took a second, considering what he was going to say before continuing, "You've not been the same since the Blip, and I know it's hard. But you have to start living again." It was nothing he hadn't said before.

"But I don't really... have anything other than work. Keeping people safe."

"Hey, hey. That's not true. You have us. You know we're your family."

"Yeah, no... I know. But I just... my friends were all blipped, and Peter..." You felt a tear spring to your eye. It had been a while since you had cried about it. "I've not felt normal since they left, and then when they came back... and I was so much older."

He rubbed your back as he watched a single tear fall.

"(y/n), Peter is older now, too. And I know he never got over you, either... why don't you talk to him?"

"I think I might have burned the bridge, Cap. I snuck out the window this morning while I think he was making breakfast."

He gave you a disapproving look that made you feel like a child being scolded. "That's not very nice, kid. I think you should chat to him."

"Yeah, I guess so." You moved to get up from the couch, but sat right back down when a shooting pain radiated up nearly your entire body. "Shit."

"Hey, hey! Sit down!" Steve pushed you back down. "On second thoughts, why don't you invite him and May round for dinner? You're not going anywhere, kid."

"Yeah, that sounds better." You laughed, meekly. "Although I have to shower..."

"I'll call Wanda to help you out with that." His quick, embarrassed tone made you laugh.

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"Hey, there she is!" Sam shouted as you walked back into the kitchen where they were diligently making dinner. Wanda walked past you to the fridge, pulling out a soda. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Better, thanks Sam." He nodded in approval at your response.

"You look better, you know that. You looked like death warmed up earlier, and that's not even an exaggeration." You rolled your eyes at him, "You've even managed to dress nice for the occasion! It's been a while since I've seen you in anything but sweats." You pushed his shoulder, stopping the incessant chatter.

Bucky threw an arm around your shoulder. "You're a chip off the old block, y'know. Just like Stevie." You watched as it was Steve's turn to roll his eyes at his friend's antics.

The doorbell rang through the house, ending the moment. Your heart thudded in your chest, a wave of nausea overtaking your stomach. "That'll be May and Peter, I'll grab the door." Steve gave you a knowing look, like he could read your mind. "Are you going to be okay?"

You nodded, slowly, taking deep breaths. Wanda slung her arms over your shoulder, whispering "you're going to be just fine." She pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"Hi, Steve," May Parker's soothing voice carried through to the kitchen. All four of you remaining in the kitchen wandered through the hall to meet your guests.

When May's eyes fell to you, you could swear there was a tear in them. But it was gone almost as quick as you could tell. "Oh my darling girl," She wrapped you in a hug, squeezing tight. It kind of hurt, but you were desperate to not let it show. You needed this. "It's been far too long, we've missed you so much."

"I know May, I'm sorry I haven't dropped by." You apologised as she dropped the hug. She put a loving hand on your face, and smiled sweetly.

"Don't be silly, sweetie. You have nothing to apologise for." Unfortunately, she didn't know the half of what you had to apologise for.

As it came to your turn to greet Peter, your heart pounded. The others ruffled his hair, lightly bullied him over how dressed up he was. It was only a shirt and sweater, you didn't really see the problem. But Bucky and Sam were always on the lookout for ways to playfully get under spiderboy's skin.

"I think you look nice." You blurted out, almost involuntarily. Bucky and Sam smirked at your outburst, and you suddenly realised that maybe they weren't goading Peter, they were goading you.

"Uh, thanks... you look better," As it came out of his mouth, he realised that he was alluding to something you had asked him not to tell them. "Oh, um, I mean like good, you look good."

You laughed a little. "It's okay, Pete. I told them, we're good."

Steve interrupted, a firm hand on Peter's shoulder. "So, Pete. I hear you've been aiding my daughter to keep secrets from me." Peter gulped at his words. "Relax, kid. I'm just messing. Although we definitely have to improve your stitching skills because that was sloppy."

May stood, confused. "Peter, do you want to catch me up to speed here?"

"Sorry, May." Steve said. "I'll explain what these rascals have been up to." He linked arms with her and wandered towards the dining room with everyone else following. Leaving you and Peter standing in the hallway.

You finally flung your arms around Peter. "You told them?" He asked, at least a modicum of relief behind his words.

You nod. "I kind of had to, they had been out last night looking for me. I felt bad." You swallowed, and realised this was a good time to apologise. "Thank you for helping me out last night, I don't know what I would have done without you."

His arm raised to the back of his neck, as he looked away from you. "Hey, no problem. Anytime."

"I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye."

"It's... alright, (y/n). You had to get home, I understand."

"No, Peter. It was shitty of me to do that to you. I'm sorry."

He smiled, his hand moving towards yours. When he got there, he wrapped yours in his, and gave a loving squeeze. It was the most romantic contact you had had since... well, since him. You were surprised that it felt so normal.

"Let's get dinner." He whispered. You nodded in agreement.

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You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Dinner was as dinner usually is. It was delicious, clearly Steve had been cooking a lot since he took a step back from the Avengers. Sam and Bucky argued while Wanda, Steve and May talked a lot about current events. You and Peter chatted mostly about what your friends were up to, and what your plans were.

"I'm thinking of going full-time with the avengers." Peter revealed. Your eyes widened, knowing that when you were younger, that's all you had both wanted. To be fighting alongside each other, permanently.

"Peter, that's amazing!" You breathed out. "But what about college, didn't you want to go to MIT?"

"Nah," He smiled. "Changed my mind. Don't think I could do avenging and college at the same time. Plus, Tony left a bunch of science stuff behind for me to finish off, so I would have my own lab at the new facility anyway."

You couldn't help the wide grin that adorned your features. "When would you move?"

"I could move anytime. Are you um, planning to go to the new facility?" He asked.

"Yeah, I was hoping to split my time between here and there." You looked over at Steve, talking with May. He didn't need you here. You knew he would love for you to stay, but he would be just fine without you. Plus, he was only semi retired. He'd probably be at the new facility more than you. "I know Bucky and Sam are going over there full-time, that's why they're crashing here for now."

"Oh, great." He sarcastically rolled his eyes and laughed.

Your conversation was interrupted by Bucky shouting over to you, "Hey, kid! Tell everyone about the time you tripped yourself up and accidentally caught the bad guy."

"Bucky, stop telling everyone about that!"

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"Hey, do you want to go swinging?" Peter whispered, as everyone started clearing plates.

You eyed Cap nervously, knowing that you couldn't leave without telling him, again. Not after your heart to heart earlier. There was no way he would let you swing with Peter, not with as many stitches as you had.

"Maybe just a walk?" You mentioned to Peter. He glanced down at your side, where he had seen the wound last night, and agreed.

You both got up, clearing your dishes as you went. "You ask him." You whispered to Peter while the older avengers and May were still in conversation.

"What? No, you ask him." He harshly whispered back. You rolled your eyes.

"Hey, Cap?" You got the attention of everyone still at the dining table.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Would it be okay if Peter and I went on a walk?"

"Of course, honey. But no swinging," he sternly looked at Peter. "and wear a jacket, it's cold out there."

"Aye aye, cap'n." You saluted him playfully, walking out of the room and waving to everyone. You would see them when you got back, anyways.

What you didn't hear was Steve asking Sam for Redwing to follow you, at a distance. Just in case.

You threw on a jacket and a scarf, opening the door once Peter had done the same. It was cold. It was that kind of biting, painful cold that really settled into your bones.

The walk was mostly silent at first, the street sounds filling the gap. You gasped quietly as Peter snaked his hand into yours as you wandered. The warmth was very nice, but the implication made your heart do double time.

"Where do you want to go?" He broke the silence.

Truthfully, you had no idea. You had absolutely no direction in your brain as your thoughts were smothered by the fact that you were together, holding hands.

"I don't mind, really." You responded.

"I know a place... but it requires climbing, is that okay?" He asked, once again his eyes wandering to where your wound was healing, under your clothes.

"Yeah, that's fine. Where is it?"

He walked with you for a little while longer. Once you reached a taller building, he motioned for you to hop onto his back, as you used to do.

"Be careful," You whispered in his ear. Your hot breath so close to him made his hair stand on end, goosebumps sticking up all over his skin.

He swallowed. "I've got you, don't worry."

And so, he climbed. It was quick, he was stronger now than you remembered. You felt his back muscles tense and relax under you as he flexed out his arms to pull you both up.

He set you down carefully once you got to the top, showing you the view. You wondered how he had found these places, how he always had the most extraordinary little pockets of New York that he reserved, just for you.

"It's gorgeous." You sighed, contentedly.

You could feel his eyes on you. You could tell exactly what he was thinking, without even seeing his face. His hand wrapped itself in yours, as you pulled your jacket and scarf closer around you.

"Are you cold?"

Before you could even respond, his jacket was wrapped around your shoulders. You smiled at his chivalry, drawing the jacket around you and appreciating the extra protection against the elements.

"(y/n), can we talk?" You felt his eyes on you again. You nodded at him, unable to find words as your blood pumped ferociously around your body. "I want to try again..."

Your eyes widened at his confession.

"I mean it," He continued. "I've never... I've never stopped loving you. I've spent years trying to move on, but I haven't. There's no one like you in the world. No one."

His hand lefts yours, and found your cheek. His eyes wandered over every freckle, every scar, every bruise he could see. "You are so beautiful."

You were at a loss for what to say. You had craved these words since the moment you left Clint's farm that day. You could barely hear anything anymore, as the moment melted away to just you, and him.

And so, you did what you had wanted to do for so long.

You kissed him.

As your lips connected, it took a second for him to even register what was happening. But once he did, the passion, the emotion you felt in that moment was like nothing you had ever experienced. His hands tangled in your hair, desperately drawing you towards him.

This wasn't like to loving kisses you used to pepper over each other's lips. This was need, it was animalistic. It was war and anger and heat. It was love.

When you both finally pulled away, your breath was ragged. You placed your forehead on his, your hot breath tickling each other's faces.

"I've never stopped thinking of you, Peter." You admitted. "Not for a second. I've always regretted walking away from you, hurting you like that." You screwed your eyes shut, the pain of the memories a little too much to bear.

He raised your face until your eyes met his. "It wasn't your fault. I left you behind in the snap, and you spent five years mourning me. I never blamed you for what came after, (y/n). Never."

His words soothed the pain in your chest. You had always wondered.

"I want to start fresh with you. I want to go on dates and get to know you, as you are now. I want to be normal kids..." He stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"I want that too, Pete."

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one short and sweet. "Good," He looked into your eyes, a mischievous glint in them. "Then we should probably get you home, we've got an early start tomorrow."

You raised your eyebrow in questioning.

"I'm taking you for breakfast, sunshine."

[ronearoundblindly]

The Right Partner (2/3)

Steve Rogers x lab tech!Reader

Take My Whole Life, Too, Part One (see previous or series)

Summary: Your honeymoon with Steve Rogers begins.

Warnings for vague smut (don't worry, I make up for it in pt2), cuteass!Steeb being extra, unrealistic adorable sh*t, and my complete lack of shame about it. MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist instead, but this one isn't for you! WC 3.1k

It’s bright and loud.

Well, there is light—a pale blue that gnaws at your heavy eyelids—and the song of birds.

The birds are, frankly, irrationally aggressive even for late morning.

You groan and turn over toward the inside of the tent, hoping for an hour more of darkness, maybe two.

Dehydrated. That’s what this heavy, sluggish feeling is. You should have had twice the water you managed to drink yesterday. No one would fault you for having other priorities on your wedding day though.

Your fingers branch out to find the bed empty.

From your exposed shoulder beyond the comforter, you gauge it is quite chilly here wherever you are. You didn’t even ask Steve if he found out what state (or country) you two landed in. Who cares? You burrow deeper, peeking over the thick quilted seam to see—

“What are you doing?”

Steve’s back is to you when you hear a metallic clatter in the utility sink. He whips around in just his boxers, raising a hand to cover his mouth and garble out “nothing.”

You’re prone and below eye level to the countertop, so you sit up to look while Steve poorly hides his sin by leaning over the surface.

He swallows heavily.

“You want some tea,” he rushes to ask in a failingly casual tone. “I’ve got water heating.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” you jump up to stand on the mattress, knocking your head against the springy ceiling, and step down. “Are you eating our wedding cake without me?”

“You wouldn’t even give me some yesterday,” he whines, placing himself protectively between your approach and the confection. His guilty brows raise with sincerity.

“Oh, please! You got cake, and then you—” you poke his bare chest, glancing at the now quarter-demolished top tier “—you complained it wasn’t your flavor!”

“But…” Steve simply points. No other words come to mind based on his still-stunned expression.

“Fine,” you chuckle, relaxing to stretch your large sweater over your chilled hands and thighs, “I won’t tell anyone you’re nothing but a little sweets-thief. Hot tea sounds lovely though.”

“Allow me,” he smiles and leans in for a kiss, tasting of sugar and lemon like the night you got engaged, the night you first…oof. After just one reminder, the sweater is suddenly plenty warm.

“Thank you.”

The flood of mental images rushes from your brain, down your body, to your full bladder.

Next stop: the bathroom.

While he sorts out your morning boost, you chug a bottle of water to help with the rough, sluggish feeling weighing on you. No soreness though, which is good.

Steve returns triumphant with a camping mug and steeping, steaming wakeup juice, and you give him your own soft peck on his cheek.

No doubt he continues his dessert for breakfast the instant you step out to use the facilities aboard the jet. Good, he deserves all the cake, as much as he wants, whenever he wants.

The tiny mirror isn’t as scary as you thought it would be, but you do have to rummage around for a few straggling hairpins. A splash of cool water on your face just before you emerge is more refreshing than expected, too. The day is fresh, you are fresh, and your marriage is fresh.

You cradle the mug in your palms, making to leave, when your gown catches your eye hanging at the locker closest to the ramp, right beside Steve’s uniform.

Yesterday feels like the most wonderful, blinding blur.

All the military men (and women) wore their first uniforms, and you have to admit it created a sharp-looking bunch. Geeta’s uniform was only from nine years ago, Wilson’s just over fifteen, Rhodes’s nearly thirty, and of course, Steve and Bucky’s come in at eighty years old. Not shockingly, their uniforms were replicas, but the boys were very picky about the details.

Gracie, Natasha, Ro, Pepper, Tony and Bruce all kept their fancy dress within the same neutral palette. Morgan and Felicity were flower (leaf) girls. Standing at the alter as a bride, a groom, and their ‘besties,’ you amassed a punk, a jerk, a nerd, and a Booboo.

Your subdued red, white, and blue gown made the boldest statement of the day.

You were so worried yesterday morning. You thought the statement would read as if you were devoting yourself to an ideal, harping that you are in some ways ‘Misses America,’ but it’s more than that. You didn’t want to walk down that aisle and sign over who you are, to belong to someone else, even someone as magnificent as Steve Rogers.

Then you saw his face.

That man belongs to you as much as you belong to him. The look of pure, undiluted, delighted adoration nearly knocked you over. You’re lucky you made it through your vows. You melted inside to help your poor, fumbling Sketch with his own speech. Bucky winked once you finally got his buddy to the important bit.

Then that kiss.

Gosh, all this time you thought maybe the desperate heat of your first kiss in an evacuated AvIn hallway couldn’t be recreated—much less topped—but you were wrong. The boning in your bodice is the real hero, that’s for sure. Girl’s gotta have good support when it counts.

Speaking of being weak for a man, you think, sipping at hot tea, better get back in there. That, plus your legs are freezing.

A polaroid snaps the instant you cross the zip-up threshold, along with praises of your beauty. You blink rapidly but smile.

“What’s that?”

“Your wedding present,” Steve beams. He fakes a frown at your following ‘we weren’t doing presents’ look. “Not big ones. They’re just for fun.”

He picks up another Canon film camera, a hefty black and silver thing from his hard-sided suitcase, and hands it to you.

“Thought they’d be nice for the trip.”

You weigh it in your hands, eye the Polaroid, then switch with Steve.

“That one’s more of an artsy-fartsy Sketch thing,” you say, stepping around him with your new toy, rushing to grab toasty sweatpants from your own bag.

As you bend over to pull out the garment though, you hear a mechanical click and whip around.

Steve still faces away from you, but his head is slightly turned and he softly whistles, so of course, you lift your Polaroid and snap a picture of his ass, too. He wrinkles his nose, looking over his shoulder with an unhidden smile. You shake out the photo card provocatively while he suits up for the fireside in a sweater and jeans.

He glances at the developed shot and, seeming satisfied, plants one more kiss on your forehead.

He hums as he holds up his picture of you entering the tent, thumb tracing the line of your hip exposed like it was on the glossy magazine pages after your bear debacle.

“Yes, ‘m out there distracting all the wild animals,” you joke.

“It’s working,” he mutters. “Hungry, Misses Rogers?”

Yeah, you think, but you’ll need fewer clothes again. Instead, your stomach gurgles in response.

“Why? Do I finally get some cake?”

“Just a taste.” He kisses your lips, which you lick immediately after. “But I was thinking more like eggs. The fire’s ready.”

Your stomach growls louder. “Shhh, peanut gallery.”

Steve puts a hand over your stomach, chuckling. “At least she’s honest.”

The light pressure of his wide palm lingers even when he steps out to the camp ground. It triggers a potent flash of life with him.

You’ve spoken about kids and it will happen (or at least you’ll try) in due course, but he’s come home from missions with doubts about bringing children up in this world. What matters to both of you is having each other, and you know he’d be enough good and love for your lifetime. Even though you can always revisit the issue, that deep flutter ravages your gut while you watch him cook breakfast.

With another hunger pang, you remember how your stomach voicing her opinion is one of the reasons you’re together. One, solitary growl started the first real night of hanging out with Steve. Without it, he wouldn’t have shared a leftover meal (and cake—hint, hint, buddy), he wouldn’t have let you in his apartment, he wouldn’t have driven you and your car home the next morning, and he wouldn’t have given you some of his own clothes to wear.

You pull the sleeves of his sweater over your chilling hands and bury your nose in the fabric, inhaling deeply.

You wonder which one of those incidental, accidental moments was the tipping point, whether removing just one experience of you would have stopped Steve from seeing you, stopped him from loving you.

After a while, you pick up the polaroid. You can see his ease through the lens. Steve is in his element, chatting away while preparing a meal, planning what you two can do together next, complimenting how you look in his sweatpants and meaning it so profusely that his eyes light up whenever he looks your way.

You thought you caught it on camera, all of him, all of his happiness, but the shot isn’t close enough to do it justice. Your heart will just have to remember.

Yes, Steve Rogers on his own is more than enough. He is the gift. He’s your treasure.

You can’t decide what you want to do next, but a strong shiver running through you gives a hint: get warm.

Eggs are a good start.

When the food is done, Steve refills your tea and makes his own.

You snuggle up into the covers of the bed again, leaning your head into the dip of Steve’s sternum, using your furnace husband to full effect. The birds aren’t so annoying now. The air is so crisp and refreshing, laced with the smell of Steve’s skin. The rise and fall of his chest is so soothing as you sip and ponder the future.

Steve fiddles with the dials on the vintage camera above you. That’s the last thing you remember before waking up again, this time wrapped in his warm, toasty arms.

For once, he hasn’t woken up yet. He’s stretched, out-cold and perfectly content, unmoving as you wiggle out of the covers.

He never rests in the middle of the day, so you have to capture his sleepy form, eyes still tucked beneath the comforter, keeping the light out for just a little longer. He’s so beautiful.

Your husband is so beautiful.

Steve desperately wants to take the wedding presents for a spin out in the woods, so the afternoon is entirely consumed by a hike.

The Polaroid makes too much noise for wildlife and can’t focus on the tinier details among the branches and leaves, so you settle for jotting down some fanciful descriptions that come to mind and watch him sneak closer to birds, bugs, and color-changing foliage.

He gets so distracted with excitement that you two walk much farther than intended. Steve insists on carrying you the last few miles of your return, and you spend the entire piggyback ride with your chin tucked over his shoulder, your cheek against his neck, quietly discussing what you’d like to change in your lives now that you’re officially married.

Nothing. The answer is nothing.

Nothing needs to change because you two are the exact same people as forty-eight hours ago. Perhaps the rings on your fingers mean more for your life, but they just transmuted the love already in existence to matter.

Steve’s bright blue eyes go dreamy with philosophizing.

Your husband is beautiful, smelling of fresh air and optimism.

Steve refuses to miss another sunset, so you two lay in the hammock before lighting your evening fire.

You snuggle and chat, teasing each other, telling stories. You watch the Milky Way bloom to life above you.

Something Steve never figured out was how the Team knew about his plan to propose. He’s been going over it and over it, but he can’t see where he gave himself away. Steve says, when he asked Bucky yesterday in the men’s ready room, Bucky smirked.

Apparently, Steve, only once while you two dated, told his friend “there’s an order to these things,” and that was enough. Buck knew Steve’s intentions immediately, watching for the signs, the clues. Everyone understands that for a long time now Steve has resented his birthday is a holiday—not in a disrespectful way, but it annoys him that the day is already a big, loud affair,—and the whole group guessed (correctly) Steve would rather replace the symbolism with his own meaning.

“And hey,” Steve rumbles, faking Tony’s nonchalance as he quotes the billionaire playboy, “if you chickened out, fireworks are fireworks.”

His added shrug for effect shifts you and rocks the dangling net.

“Almost did, didn’t you?” you chuckle. “Chicken out?”

Your husband’s whole body tweaks harshly.

“You know I was scared shitless, Keeps! Almost fainted.”

“Or at least fell off your one knee…”

His hands fly up to scrub at his stubbled face, pinning you. “Oh! It was so bad,” he groans.

You sit up carefully in the wobbly fabric of the hammock, barely suppressing more laughter, and pound a flat palm at his chest. “It’s ok, soldier. You got the job done. We got there in the end.”

Steve’s hand covers yours, his peaceful smile glowing in the soft starlight.

He reaches to cradle your cheek, sweeping a delicately callused thumb over your skin.

“I almost can’t believe it,” Steve says quietly.

“Believe what?”

He could mean the beauty of the sky, or that Tony knocked it out of the park with your escape of a honeymoon, or that he didn’t croak instead of getting through all those mental and physical hurtles to be with you. You’re just not sure. Personally, you’ve ‘almost not believed it’ since the Captain America started talking to you, so it’s hard to judge.

Steve doesn’t answer right away. His voice grows even softer. “Happy. That’s all.”

Your heart breaks and mends in an instant.

“You can’t believe you’re happy?”

He goes shy, ducking then raising his gaze even higher towards the treetops. He clears his throat before admitting, “I lead…an unusual life. Not many would want this.”

“I dunno. Seems pretty nice to me,” you giggle.

“Yes, but—“ he pulls you into his chest and squeezes “—I get no guarantees. Not like others. We couldn’t even set a date. We could have been waiting years to get married.”

It’s your turn to shrug.

“You got something else to do?”

“No,” he sighs, “just more of this.” He nudges your body closer and closer to his, until all your arms and legs are tangled together. “As much as possible. I only meant…I love you.

“I love you, and I don’t think I had any faith left that I would find you.”

You. Not someone like you. Not someone for him.

You.

Even without a fire, even without sunlight, even without shelter surrounding you, Steve provides everything you could ever need: heat, comfort, safety. He provides, and it’s only right that he should have the favor returned.

Happiness. That’s what this is. Happiness that wasn’t guaranteed. Happiness that wasn’t expected. Happiness that was hard-earned.

Your muscles shiver and your skin tingles, all with need of him. “Sweetheart,” you whisper, clawing at his sweater.

He knows. He sees. He feels it, too.

When Steve lunges to kiss you though, the hammock swings with your combined weight and tries to topple you.

You giggle and squeal, flipping out and onto the ground with zero grace, and he follows.

Steve crawls over you, starlight and the glow from the tent painting his face in primary colors.

“Here, Mrs. Rogers?” He fakes shock. “In the dirt?”

“You fucked me on that picnic table just last night,” you joke, a dark, taunting edge to your voice which he matches.

Steve leans in again. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

He holds your gaze, his focus flickering to your lips while the crickets’ song roars around you.

It sounds silly after all you’ve done to get Steve out of his shell, but what you crave most in this moment is the familiar, traditional love-making that he offers best. His tenderness leads you on a merry dance not unlike long wilderness walks. He’s consumed by discovery and attention to how you feel in that very second. To him, you change as frequently as the landscape. He yearns to explore what’s the same, what’s new.

Steve never phones-in sex. He never just goes through the motions. Somehow, he makes an art of reevaluating your body, your pleasure, each and every time. He’s the proof vanilla is an infinite flavor.

But…

That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the chase.

Steve is leaning in to kiss you when your knee raises to his chest, halting his progress. You bite your lip and scramble to the ‘door’ of the tent. Obviously, he lets you win because he could easily have snatched you into his grasp.

Steve’s laugh stays close, but he follows all the way to the bed.

There’s something to be said about a good ol’ fashioned undressing, garment by garment, that dance of who leads and how much they touch the other as each piece of clothing falls away. Steve’s become a very good dancer.

Nothing is rushed. Nothing is missed.

He doesn’t combine the acts of maneuvering you and dragging open mouth kisses along your skin. He moves you, and then he lingers.

Time spent mapping you is time well spent to Steve Rogers.

You’re drunk on him. High on him. It’s an out-of-body experience that has you watching his broad back curve sharply while he thrusts and traces your collarbone with his tongue, noticing your toes seize up from force of your first orgasm, and admiring how fine his ringed finger looks laced in with yours and pinned over your head.

No one leaves the tent. The evening fire never gets started.

After a long and sweaty fuck in the bed, you’re filthy, gathering food for Steve who’s hungry, following you around with wipes. It’s comical how thoroughly you try to take care of each other.

No. Sit still. No. Let me just grab this. No. Fine. Together?

You two finish the top tier of cake after cleaning off…because Steve Rogers is the most stubborn, beautiful, and optimistic husband.

[Next Part]

[Main Masterlist; Fools Rush In Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[captinamericashusband]

Flirt | Tony Stark x Male!Reader

A/N: Omg a fanfic that isn't about Steve Rogers?!?! Hope you enjoy :) Also, school is starting soon but I will try to write as much as I can. I actually do find writing these enjoyable. Fanfic writing is different but fun. It's nice to use my English somewhere aside from just writing essays 🥹.

P.S. Listen to this song right now or I will hurt you:

Flirt

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: During a night out with his close friend, Y/N encounters Tony Stark and they immediately hit it off. Get that bag, Y/N!

Warnings: Alcohol use

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure about this, Sal?" Y/N said, uncertainty laced in his voice.

"100% sure. You need to get your mind off of that cheating douchebag." Sal responded with no hesitation. A small sigh came from Y/N's mouth. He knew deep down that she was right.

After finding out his ex had been cheating on him, Y/N had rotted in his house for almost two weeks, completely isolating himself from the outside world. Only today, when his closest friend Sal practically broke his front door down, had he been freed from his lovelorn pitying.

Now, Sal was forcing Y/N out for a much-needed night out in town, determined to help him forget about his troubles, at least for just a couple of hours. The two were currently headed to one of the liveliest bars downtown, with the promise of copious amounts of alcohol and good company.

"Look, I know this might not be what you want right now," Sal said, giving Y/N a reaffirming pat on the shoulder. "But, just trust me. We're going to enjoy the night, the drinks and the people, and," Sal's head turned slightly, giving a Y/N a small smirk, "we might even find you a nice man there."

Y/N turned downward and began shaking his head to hide the smile forming on his face – he ultimately failed. "Yeah, yeah alright." While his very recent relationship's ending was abrupt and messy, the idea of finding someone new was very enticing. His previous boyfriend was, according to Sal, "hot trash", so he believed tonight could be the chance to find a truly suitable partner for him.

"That's the spirit," Sal grinned, tightly hugging Y/N's side. "Now let's go and make very questionable decisions."

Y/N chuckled despite himself, softly pushing Sal off of him. Maybe tonight would be when he'd truly move on.

------------------------------------

According to Y/N's inner monologue, the bar itself was quite lovely. It was a quaint, hole-in-the-wall establishment yet very populated. People occupied the bar's booths in large groups, their conversations filling the atmosphere with a nice volume. The warm and soft lighting gave the space a slight touch of intimacy. As he continued looking around, Y/N grimaced as he glanced toward a corner of the bar and saw a couple making out, their hands touching in places that were definitely inappropriate for a public space. However, despite seeing the touchy-feely pair, Y/N could tell tonight would be somewhat fun.

The two settled down on two barstools at the bar's front. Sal, being the more outgoing of the one, wasted no time waving down the bartender. "Two tequila shots, please," she said with a grin. It was a tradition for the two to begin a night out with tequila shots – a nice ritual that set the tone for the night.

The bartender slid two shot glasses filled to the brim with tequila. The two each grabbed a glass, Sal raising hers and toasting, "to a night of fun and forgetting."

Y/N raised his also, saying, "Cheers to whatever comes our way." The two smiled at each other, clinking their glasses before downing their drinks in one swift gulp.

Y/N's face scrunched in pain upon swallowing. The feeling of tequila was familiar to Y/N as he and Sal have spent multiple nights out together. However, he never grew as much of a tolerance as her for the throat-burning it caused when ingesting it. He coughed slightly, but laughed, a tingly feeling spreading throughout his chest.

Sal leaned over, slightly nudging Y/N's elbow. "So, what'll it be next for us? Should we try something strong or should steady ourselves for tonight?"

Y/N thought deeply for a moment before responding. "Let's try something different," he said, feeling bolder. "How about margaritas?"

Sal laughed. "Alright, margaritas it is. Don't blame me though for how shit-faced you might get."

Y/N rolled his eyes, but couldn't prevent the smile from forming on his face. "I guess we'll see," he replied, feeling the anticipation from what the night has to offer.

------------------------------------

Sal and Y/N had 3 margaritas and 4 tequila shots in each and were already a tad inebriated. Despite the bar being quite packed, their egregiously loud laughter carried around the room, causing people to look at them with slight annoyance.

Suddenly, Sal's eyes widened and she began choking on her drink. "Holy shit, bitch," she semi-yelled, catching Y/N's attention. "Don't look behind you, but Tony 'Richboy' Stark just came in with a really hot dude."

Y/N wasn't the type to listen to directions he was told – especially when inebriated – so despite Sal's warnings, he immediately looked. And Sal was correct. There, unmistakably, was Tony Stark clad in a simple tux with a black tie near the bar's entrance. Next to him was an equally attractive man, taller, with blonde hair and broad shoulders. Upon second glance, Y/N realized the other man was the Captain America.

Y/N's eyes had wandered on Tony while he was surveying the bar's interior. For a brief moment, their gazes met under the glow of the bar's warm lighting. Y/N quickly looked away. However, his curiosity got the better of him and he glanced once more. Tony's eyes were still on him, firm but with an undertone of curiosity. Y/N wanted to so desperately look away, but their stare lingered. The world seemed to fade during their intimate stare-off. A palpable tension was shared between them, and it wasn't until Tony flashed Y/N a small smile before heading to a vacant booth that it vanished.

A slight slap on Y/N's arm broke him from his trance. "Dude! I literally told you not to look and guess what you did? Look!" Y/N had to quiet down Sal's loud reprimanding voice, afraid a certain someone would hear her. She regained her composure after a few minutes of quiet yelling and continued drinking her third margarita. "Okay, but he was definitely checking you out," Sal slurred with a volume even a person outside the bar could hear.

A loud cough erupted from Y/N's mouth, an attempt to drown out Sal's voice. "He was absolutely not," he protested, taking a sip of his drink. "He was just checking out the place, and our eyes coincidentally met when he was looking at the front of the bar."

"Oh, Y/N," Sal said, slowly shaking her head. "I know you may be slow in the head–" Y/N was about to object before Sal put a finger to his lips, effectively shutting his mouth. "But you'd practically have to be blind to not notice him eyeing you like a piece of fine meat."

"Okay, but..." Y/N was at a loss for words, partly for the fact he was intoxicated but also because Tony Stark was definitely checking him out. Their stare-off lasted a little too long to be considered anything but friendly. "Wait, why were you looking at him I thought we weren't supposed to look?"

"Well, Y/N," Sal said, sloppily standing from the bar stool and grabbing her purse. "I will be going to the bathroom right now. I hope nothing significant will occur during my absence, like, say, a certain Avenger approaching you while you're sat here all alone." She winked, her gait wobbly from the alcohol.

Before Y/N could yell at her to return, she already turned the bar's corner into the restrooms. Y/N silently cursed, downing his margarita before ordering another one. His heart was beating fast, and he glanced towards where Tony was sitting. As if on cue, Tony looked up from his conversation with Captain America, catching his gaze. This time, Tony's smile widened, and he leaned in and whispered something to Steve. Y/N's pulse quickened. Then, Tony stood up from his booth and started towards Y/N. He quickly turned around, "fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispered under his breath.

Y/N could feel Tony's presence approaching. He radiated wealth, power, and overall playboy hubris with each step. As he drew closer, Y/N's anxiety reached a peak. He started drawing his focus away from the intimidating man, attempting to look very intently at the bar's collection of liquor. But Tony's sensation, magnetic as ever, couldn't be ignored by Y/N.

Tony sat on the barstool Sal was on before she left. Y/N felt his palms and the back of his knees becoming clammy, unsure if it was from the alcohol or the undeniably attractive billionaire beside him. It was probably the latter. Tony cleared his throat to catch the attention of the bartender. "I'll take a beer, please."

After Tony got his beer, an uncomfortable silence washed over the two men. Tony wasn't speaking and Y/N was too out of it to verbalize anything. Wasn't Tony – billionaire, playboy, philanthropist – Stark supposed to start their conversation, he silently thought. Suddenly getting very impatient, Y/N put the burden on himself to verbally approach Tony first. "I always thought you were a hard liquor person," Y/N's voice came out, evident in his speech that he was decently drunk.

Tony glanced at Y/N, a hint of amusement in his expression. "I've been trying to lay off the drinking for a while," he replied, taking a sip of his beer. "Only wimpy drinks for me tonight."

Y/N nodded, trying to focus on Tony's words despite his tipsiness. He could feel Tony's eyes on him, curious and unwavering. His gaze was intimidating but felt strangely warm at the same time.

Tony leaned in slightly, his tone teasing. "And what about you. I didn't peg you to be a margarita guy."

Y/N smiled, his confidence from the liquid courage abating his nerves. "I like to keep 'em guessing, Mr. Stark." He took another sip of his margarita. "Only the good ones."

Tony's grin widened slightly. "Does that make me one of the 'good ones'?"

"That depends on how you treat me tonight," Y/N replied, his voice flirtier than he expected it to be.

Another silence came after Y/N's words – a comfortable one, unlike the last time. Y/N sneaked a few glances towards Tony, finding him looking straight ahead bearing a small content smile.

"So what brings you here with" – Y/N gestured towards Steve – "that hunk of a man," Y/N asked, cutting through the quiet.

Tony set down his beer. "Well, I just got off a very important business meeting and decided to head here to unwind. Heard this place had some...interesting company." He then looked towards Y/N. "Capsicle's here as my plus one."

Y/N felt his cheeks go red. "'Interesting company,' huh?" he echoed, his nervousness returning again.

Tony nodded, his expression playful. "Very interesting," he reaffirmed. "And it seems," Tony picked up his beer, gesturing it towards Y/N. "I've made the right choice."

A sudden cough erupted from Y/N's mouth, elicited by Stark's notorious innate flirtiness. "You can't just say that, Tony. We just met and you don't even know my name."

Tony chuckled, clearly amused by Y/N's reaction. "You're right," he admitted, leaning back slightly. "But I don't need to know your name to recognize you're someone worth talking to." He took another quick sip of his beer. "Names are just a formality anyway. I'd rather know the person behind the name."

Y/N felt a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. Despite knowing of Tony's infamous charismatic boldness, it felt nerve-wracking being on the receiving end of it. It was a strange experience. "You surely know how to keep someone on their toes, Mr. Stark."

Tony smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "So, whaddya say? Do I get your name or do I have to keep guessing for a little longer?"

Y/N hesitated briefly before deciding to play along with Tony's game. "Keep guessing, lover-boy."

Tony's eyebrows raised, clearly enjoying the challenge and the nickname. "Let's see..." he said, his face stern with faux concentration. "You strike me as a Jay. Or a Phil." He watched Y/N's expression closely, trying to see if there was any hint he was on the right track.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "Nice try, but you're way off. Guess again."

A small sigh came from Tony. "Dammit. I thought I almost had it," he said, feigning playful disappointment. "Okay, how about...Cameron? Or Mitchell?"

Y/N shook his head once more. "Nope. Not even close."

Tony leaned in closer, his smile turning into a small smirk. "Alright, I give up. What's your name, mystery man?"

Y/N also leaned in, relenting at Tony's surrender. "It's Y/N," he half-whispered. "But I did enjoy you guessing."

A genuine smile found itself on Tony's face. "Y/N, huh? I like it – it suits you." He raised his beer in a small toast. "To new friends, and to keeping things interesting."

Y/N clinked his margarita with Tony's brown beer bottle. "To new friends," he repeated.

"So," Tony said, taking another sip of his bottle. "Tell me more about yourself."

------------------------------------

Tony and Y/N talked for what seemed like hours, the passage of time becoming irrelevant to them. Y/N went on an extended rant about his ex-boyfriend, Tony listening intently, which Y/N very much appreciated. Tony in turn told Y/N about Avengers and Stark Industries business. Y/N tried hard to understand Tony's talks on logistics, all for the sake of how Tony's eyes lit up with interest when talking about the nitty-gritty of his company.

After I while, their conversation started dwindling down. The initial flirtiness settled down to a comfortable silence. The buzz from the alcohol had faded into a pleasant comfort that made Y/N feel warm inside. Y/N looked around the bar, noticing how the crowded place had thinned out. "Looks like we cleared the place out, huh?"

Tony set his beer bottle down, stretching his arms. "Guess we did. Time flies when you have fun. Or when you're with a cute person."

A warmth covered Y/N's face red. "It's been nice talking to you, Tony." He checked the time on his phone, eyes widening when he saw the time. "It's getting quite late. Me and Sal...where is that girl anyways?" Sal's entire existence completely slipped from Y/N's mind.

"Looks like Cap and your friend are hitting it off quite well." Y/N glanced towards the booth Steve was sitting in. There was very much indeed Sal chatting up a storm with Captain America. What surprised Y/N the most was that Steve actually enjoyed talking to her? He nodded, smile bright and charming as Sal's mouth moved continuously.

"Huh," Y/N mused. He looked towards Tony once more. Y/N wasn't quite sure how but Tony looked even more attractive since the last time he looked.

"I think it's time for us to call it a night, Y/N," Tony said, his voice slightly disappointed. Y/N also found himself unhappy as well. "Though, I'd like for us to see each other again. For margaritas or beer – or something stronger if you prefer." He pulled a sleek black business card from his pocket and handed it to Y/N.

"I'll take you up on that, Tony," Y/N replied, pocketing the card. Y/N stared softly at Tony, feeling a fluttery feeling in his chest. He noticed the closeness between them on the bar chairs.

Y/N hesitated for a brief moment, his mind racing with both excitement and nerves. The temptation to close the gap between them was overwhelming, and he could feel himself gravitating towards Tony.

Tony's gaze flickered towards Y/N's lips, seemingly understanding his intentions. Y/N felt a surge of confidence rush through him. He wanted this, and he knew damn well Tony did too. Without thinking further, Y/N closed the space between him and Tony, lips connecting in an intimate kiss.

Their lips started slowly at first – tentative as if testing the waters. But then Tony responded, pressing back with a gentle ferocity that made Y/N's stomach flutter. The kiss was slow and exploratory, full of curiosity and intrigue.

Y/N's eyes closed as he felt himself melt into Tony's touch. His hands found their way towards Tony's shoulders, linking them around and slightly grazing the fabric of his suit. Y/N could feel Tony's hands lightly caressing his waist, sending tingles around his entire body.

When they both pulled away, Y/N's eyes fluttered open and met Tony's, a mixture of surprise and fluster playing around both of their smiles.

"Wow," Y/N said, breathless. "That was unexpected."

"Yeah," Tony responded, sounding winded himself. "I definitely want to see you again now."

------------------------------------

Tony and Steve insisted on driving Y/N and Sal home, however, Y/N protested heavily against it. Sal was definitely on board with the idea but was drowned out by Y/N's persistent opposition.

After saying their goodbyes to the two Avengers, Y/N and Sal started on home. "So...," she began, sporting a toothy smile.

Y/N reciprocated her wide grin. "We'll debrief tomorrow."

FIN

A/N: Catch the Modern Family names 😼 Hope you enjoyed it!

[amethystarachnid]

LITTLE STAR

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pairing: Steve G. Rogers x fem!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Genre: angsty (ok, a lot of angst) romance and tiny bit of fluff

ᯓᡣ𐭩 AU: Steve is born in the 21st century and isn't a superhero, basically the world is like ours

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Story type: one shot

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Word count: 4.1 K

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TW(s): talks of death, domestic abuse, deadbeat father, a lot of angst, I know nothing about football so incorrect football things.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Request: Hi! | have a request for a story for Steve Rogers x female character. The genre would be romance but it would be very angsty/sad but with a happy ending. (the request is longer but if I write it here it'll spoil the story)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Songs & Superheroes tales — The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

Seven years ago

“48…49…50! I’ll find you, Y/N!” Steve says as he turns around from the tree he was facing, his eyes scanning the small park, trying to find where you were hiding. You have always been good at this game, but he was always better.

“Found you!” Steve says as he sees you crunching down in the little house on the slide.

“How can you always find me?!” You sigh and sit down on the dirty wood of the Colorful House,that’s how you both called it even though with the years it had lost most of its color, leaving only some red and some blue here and there.

“I already checked your other favorite places, so the Colorful house was the only place left.” Steve explains proudly as he sits down next to you.

“Next time I’ll be the one counting and I’ll find you in less than five seconds!” You pout, but the smile comes back on your face when a certain thought crosses your mind, “Are you excited to start middle school, Stevie?”

The boy shrugs his shoulders, “it’s just school.”

“No it isn’t! It’s the big kids’ school!” You were excited, like really excited. You, who usually hate school, haven't stopped talking about middle school since the start of summer break. You have already bought all the supplies you needed and more.

“It will all be the same, study, more study and study even more!” Steve sighs, you give him a playful nudge with your elbow.

“You say that only because you’ll have less time to play football.” Football has always been Steve’s sport, he liked and he was damn good at it.

“Maybe.” Steve gave you a small smile.

Three years later

“Stevie? What’s this?” You ask, confused, as you look at the big truck in front of Steve’s house, two men are putting boxes in it.

Steve flinches when hearing his name, he didn’t want her to see this, “Y/N! I can…can explain…”

“Are you moving out? Without telling me?” Your voice is barely a whisper as you look up at your best friend, he has gotten taller over the years and his first muscles started to show thanks to his football training.

“No! I mean yes but-“ Steve sighs and takes a deep breath, “Remember my dream school?”

“Of course.” How could you forget? He always talks about it, it’s a private high school in San Francisco that’s literally connected – for lack of better terms – with a college there. Basically, after you finish high school you already have a seat ready for you in the college, which is one of the best in the country.

“Well, I got offered a sports scholarship to go there!” Steve sounds so happy about that, are you a bad friend because you aren't happy for him? Are you selfish? Probably yes, because the only thing that you can think about right now is how he’s going to leave you alone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You can barely hear yourself now. Did he think that you would try and make him stay? Well…That’s what you want to do, but you don't want to be a shitty friend, you don't want Steve to abandon his dream for you. Because that’s the thing in your friendship: if you were to ask Steve to not go to San Francisco he would drop everything and stay with you.

“I wanted to tell you, really but…I didn’t know how to tell you without upsetting you.”

Translation: if you were upset you’d ask me to stay, I’d stay because I hate seeing you upset, but I don’t want to stay because this is my dream.

“I am upset, no point in lying, it’s just…I would’ve told you if I were in your place.” You sit down on the porch of Steve’s house.

“I know, I’m sorry…” Steve sits down next to you and, as always, you can’t bring yourself to stay mad at him.

“I already forgave you,” You smile softly as you shrug your shoulders, “so, when do you have to leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.” Now it’s Steve’s voice that’s a mere whisper. The day after tomorrow? And when was he planning on telling me? When he was already on the plane? God knows how much you want to tell him all your thoughts, but you have only a few hours left to spend together and you don't want to spend them fighting on not talking to each other.

“Then why are we sitting here?” You ask, standing up and holding out your hand towards your best friend, “Let’s spend as much time as we can together!”

Steve smiles up at you and grabs your hand, pulling himself up, “I like your plan.”

During the next day you two did everything you could think of: you skated together, had a sleepover, you even made bracelets for each other – the one Steve made for you said ‘Little star’ because that’s how he liked to call you, while the bracelet you made for him said ‘Stevie’.

“But will you come back during the holidays?” You ask, Steve stands next to his father’s car, Steve’s mom will drive her son and husband to the airport: Steve’s dad will stay with him for a few weeks until he’s gotten used to San Francisco, then Steve will move in his dorm at the school and his dad will come back.

“I promise.” Steve smiles down at you and throws his arms around your waist while you hug his neck, “take care, little star.”

“You too, Stevie, I’ll miss you.” You kiss his cheek and blink back the tears, you don’t want to cry right now, one of your last memories with Steve won’t be a sad one.

“I’ll miss you too.” And with that, Steve enters the car, before he could do something stupid like kissing you. Once in the car, though, he sees how sad you looked and he sighs, fuck it. He gets out of the car and hugs you again.

“I’ll miss you, Y/N, but I don’t want to leave with regrets.” Before you can ask him what he means he presses his lips on yours. It’s just a quick peck, an innocent kiss between thirteen years old, but you feel your heart explode. “I’ll become the best football player ever, I’ll make money and then we’ll go live together on a mountain, like you always wanted…Just, wait for me.”

You smile up at him and nod, “I’ll wait for you.”

Present day

Steve didn’t hold his promise. It was always his parents going to San Francisco for the holidays and never him coming back to Brooklyn. For three years you didn’t hear from each other, it may seem a short time for people that knew each other since birth but a lot can change in three years, even more than Steve ever thought was possible.

He gets out of the car, parking it in front of his childhood house: he was back in Brooklyn for his last year of high school.

“Y/N changed her house a lot.” He says towards his parents as he looks towards what used to be your childhood home, now a different color and without the front porch.

“Oh no, they don’t live there anymore.” His mom explains, “after Y/N’s mom died they moved into an apartment on the other side of the city.”

“What?” Steve feels like a cold water bucket has just been thrown over his head, “Y/N’s mom died?” She was young and healthy though.

“Yes, two years ago, she had a heart attack, Y/N asked us to not tell you.”

“Why?” His mom shrugs her shoulders, then puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder with a soft smile.

“It hasn’t been easy for her, but from what I know she goes to the same school you’ll go from tomorrow, try and talk to her.” She squeezes his shoulder, “You’re her best friend after all, aren’t you?”

Am I? Steve thinks, I wasn’t by her side when her mom died, I haven’t seen in three years…Are we really more than strangers?

“Why are they all staring at me?” Steve asks Bucky, one of his childhood friends, as they walk in the hallways of Brooklyn’s high school.

“Because you’re the handsome new guy.” Bucky explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But I’m not actually new, I’m sure I went to middle school with at least fifteen people in this hallway.”

“But you’re not the same Steve Rogers that left three years ago, you look like a fucking closet man.” Bucky chuckles, but it’s the truth, Steve had gotten taller and very muscular in only three years.

“I guess you’re right.” Steve can’t help the smirk forming on his lips, he reaches his locker, before he can open it though he notices a girl standing on the locker next to his. That girl is you, but he recognizes you only after you close your locker. You look the same as three years ago and another completely different person at the same time. Obviously you are older, and that shows on your features, and you are even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

“Y/N!” He says with a bright smile on his face, your eyes widen when you recognize him but quickly you look down and walk away, completely ignoring him.

“Don’t mind her, she hasn’t been the same since her mom died.” Bucky explains, “she doesn’t speak to anyone, is always late to school and never has money for lunch, I buy it for her sometimes but I’m not even sure if she actually eats it.”

“What happened to her?” Steve whispers as he looks at you entering your next class, which, coincidentally, is the one he has next too. He walks in the class and smiles when he sees that the seat next to you is free.

“Y/N, it’s me, Steve.” He says as he sits next to you. You could ignore him, look away, hell, even change seat, but hearing his voice so close after three years made your heart swell and clench at the same time. What is he doing here? You couldn’t help but ask yourself that, shouldn’t he be doing his last year in San Francisco? Did he change his mind?

“Yeah, I know, I’ve heard the whispers, everyone’s talking about you.” You shrug your shoulders, acting like the only thing you want to do isn’t throw yourself in his arms and feel some comfort for the first time in years.

“It’s the first time we see each other in three years and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Listen, I’m sorry for never coming back in Brooklyn during the last years but I’m here now can’t we just-”

“Class’s starting." You interrupt him and point at the teacher who just walked in the classroom. Steve scoffs but turns his attention to the teacher.

After a while he hands you a piece of paper with ‘you know I don’t give up easily’ written on it.

Soon you feel like you have another shadow, a shadow that’s taller and bigger than you. Steve follows you everywhere he can and he’s always trying to make you open up, trying to bring your friendship back.

“Are you going to follow me home too?” You snap at Steve when the last bell rings.

“Do you want me to? I haven't seen your new house yet.” He says, putting his backpack on one shoulder.

“And you never will.” You answer harshly, showing him the small and dirty apartment where you lived would be too embarrassing.

Steve shrugs your answer off, “You’re lucky I have practice today.” He’s on the school football team and they couldn’t be happier.

“Why did you come back from San Francisco?” You can’t help but ask, why would someone ever leave that place?

“Had a fight with a boy who was harassing a girl, turns out it was the principal’s son.” Steve shakes his head, “immediate expulsion.”

Why did his answer hurt? Were you hoping he’d say something like ‘I missed you’? How stupid of you, he didn’t even call in three years. You nod and turn away, walking towards your house. The same house that was barely a home, more like a prison. It wasn’t the outside of the building the problem, and not even the small apartment itself, the problem was the man who lived with you. Your father, at least, who he should be. To you, ever since your mother’s death, it felt like living with a stranger.

“Dad, I’m home.” You shout as you open the door to the apartment on the second floor. Silence. Silence is the only thing that you can hear, and you couldn’t be happier: silence means that he isn’t at home, which also means he’s probably out drinking and will come back in the evening highly drunk. But that will be a problem for future you, for now you lay on your bed, doing your homework. You even take a small nap.

Your small time in paradise ends as you’re cooking dinner and the door opens. Your dad walks inside, crawling his feet on the ground, with an empty bottle of beer in his hand.

“Oh, you’re cooking, I see you’ve learned your lesson.” At his words your mind flies to the bruise on your stomach, but you quickly shake your head.

“Yeah, I’m cooking some soup.” You close your eyes, breaching yourself for the storm that is about to come.

“Soup? You know I hate soup!” He says as he starts getting angry, which definitely isn’t a good thing.

“I noticed that soup was the only thing we had when it was too late to go to the store.” You admit, already feeling the pain of the hit when he didn’t even hit you, yet.

“Useless as always!” He shouts and throws the empty glass bottle of beer at your legs. You damn yourself in your mind for deciding to wear shorts when you feel the glass against your bare legs, leaving cuts behind. You don’t dare to flinch or even make a little sound, though, knowing that it would only make him more mad.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper as you place two plates of soup on the table, “I’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“You better, I’m not eating this shit.” Your father throws his plate with soup on the ground, breaking it in tiny little pieces. He’s worse than a toddler. You get up from your chair and start cleaning immediately, knowing that if you didn’t he would only get worse. You ignore the pain from the fresh cuts on your legs and pick the ceramic shatters from the ground, the soup on the ground wetting your slippers.

“I can’t cook anything else for you though…” You whisper, not even scared anymore, simply resigned and used to it.

You know that he could misunderstand every word you say.

You know he could hit you anytime.

You know you don’t have a choice but endure it till you’re done with high school.

You know you have to wait another nine months for that.

“You stupid bitch! Your mom would have never done this!” Your heart clenches at his words. How dare he talk about her, when he was the cause of her death?

“Don’t talk about her, you can’t.” You glare at him as you stand up, throwing the ceramic shatters you had just collected on the ground again.

“I can’t? And why can’t I?” He walks towards you, his big frame making you feel small and vulnerable, but not in a good way.

“You killed her!” You shout at him, tears starting to blur your vision, but you blink them back: you won’t cry in front of him. It’s basically telling him that you’re scared.

And you would never admit that.

“It wasn’t me who killed her, it was you! You killed your own mother!” You know that he’s trying to manipulate and gaslight you, but at the same time you have heard that sentence so much that you were starting to believe it.

Maybe if you were a better daughter she would still be alive.

Maybe if you were more independent she would still be with you.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe your mother is happier now. Wherever she is now she doesn’t have to look after an incompetent man who can’t even cook for himself, she doesn’t have to stay up until sunrise to make sure he doesn’t come to your room when drunk.

Maybe it’s for her best that she’s dead now.

“NO! You killed her because she was always so busy looking after you that she barely had time to look after herself, she never had the time to even do a check up!” You shout at him, tears rolling down your cheeks freely. “She died because you wouldn’t even pick up your own nose from the ground-” You let out a banshee-level scream as you feel the ceramic sink into your shoulder.

He stabbed you with a piece of ceramic from the plate.

Your father.

Your daddy, the same man who played princess tea party with you when you were four. The same man who checked under your bed for monsters every night for years.

You almost laugh when you realize you can’t remember any happy memories with your dad after your tenth birthday.

Two weeks later.

Luckily, the nurses believed you when you told them that you were taking a plate from a high shelf and it fell and broke on your shoulder. Steve, on the other hand…

“Tell me what happened.” Steve says as he sits next to you inside the Colorful House in the park.

“You follow me outside of school too, now?” You say annoyed.

“This was your favorite place to hide when we were kids, I see it didn’t change.” There’s a sad smile on his face, then he turns to you, “I don’t believe that a plate fell on you, tell me the truth.”

“It is the truth.” You roll your eyes, he sighs and his eyes fall on your wrist.

“You aren’t wearing your bracelet anymore.” He notices for the first time, you hide your wrist with your other hand.

“It broke.” My dad broke it. “You aren’t wearing it either.”

“I was worried it would break so I transformed it into a necklace.” He pulls down the collar of his shirt, revealing the letters that you used to make his bracelet, ‘Stevie’.

“Oh.” It’s the only thing you can say as you try to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. Neither of you has spoken about what happened before he left, but it’s time to talk about the elephant in the room.

Or literally anything but your dad.

“You kissed me before leaving and then you never came back, you never even called!” You say.

“What? I called almost every day!” You look at him confused at his words, “I knew you didn’t have a phone so I called the only number I remembered: your father’s.”

“That explains a lot of things…” You look down at your feet, Steve had called your father and he never told you anything? Why?

“He told me you didn’t want to talk to me or that you weren’t home, after a while I think he blocked my number, I didn’t have any other way to contact you and I simply thought you…didn’t want to hear from me…”

You look at him with a sad look, “He never told me about your calls.”

“What? Why?”

“Who knows what goes on in his sick mind.” Without even realizing your hand goes to the injury on your shoulder, and that’s when Steve understands.

“It was him, he gave you that scar.”

You nod, your eyes filling with tear, “Stabbed me with a piece of ceramic from a broken plate”

“Y/N that’s sick! Why didn’t you feel the truth at the hospital? Or to a teacher or…or…or to me…” His voice gets quieter towards the end of the sentence.

You shrug your shoulders, “I only have to endure it another few months, then I’ll leave and never come back.”

“How long has this been going on?” Steve gently wraps an arm around your shoulders, careful on the scar, and pulls you towards his chest. You bury your face in his broad chest and finally let go, crying against him. When was the last time you felt free to cry? At your mother’s funeral probably.

“Since my mother’s death.” You look up at him, placing your chin on his chest, comforted by his hold and the look of his eyes you decide to tell him the whole truth. “She died of a heart attack, that’s true, but you know what caused the heart attack?” You take a deep breath, “Exhaustion, overworking, call it however you like but truth is she was like my father’s slave — your heart falls in pronouncing those words — he made her work so much that in the end her heart couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Oh, Y/N…” Steve places a hand on the back of your head and cradles your head against his chest, kissing your forehead.

“And now he’s doing the same to me, I have to do everything in the house and if I don’t…” You can’t even finish the sentence as your body shakes with sobs.

“I’ll get you out of there, I promise.” Steve continues repeating soothing words to your ear and kissing your hair, you slowly calm down and look up at him, feeling like a huge weight has been lifted off your chest.

“Thank you.” You say softly.

“No need to thank me, I would do anything for you.”

“So…” A grin forms on your face as you push any thought regarding your father away, “What about that kiss?”

Steve laughs, “Well, my offer to go live on a mountain is still up if you want.”

“Like, best friends living together?”

“What if I want us to be more than best friends?” His eyes fall on your lips.

“Then I’d tell you that I want the same.” You press your lips on his, it’s a gentle and soft kiss. Just like Steve.

“I love you, damn I’ve loved you since we were kids.” You smile at his words.

“I love you too.”

Months later

There are only a few days left until graduation, until you can finally leave the hell that was supposed to be your home.

“Hello Mrs. Rogers.” You greet Steve’s mom as she opens the door. Since you and Steve started dating your presence has become almost constant at house Rogers, just like when you were a kid.

“Oh Y/N, Steve’s in his room.” She greets you with a hug. “I’m so happy that you are his girlfriend, I always knew you two would end up together.” You smile and before she can start planning your wedding you run to Steve’s room where he’s sitting on the bed.

“I know that look, you need to tell me something.” You give him a peck on the lips as a greeting.

“Yes and it’s big happy news.”

“Tell me everything big boy.” You know he hates that nickname, and that’s exactly why you keep calling him that.

“I got a call from the coach of an important Football team, I’ll spare you the details because I know you understand nothing of Football, but…” he takes your hands in his, “They want me in the team! I’m going pro on one of the best teams in the U.S.!” It’s true, you understand nothing of football but the excitement in his face and tone is hard to resist.

“This is fantastic! I’m so happy for you!” You throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly.

“I want you to come with me.” He says as he cups your face in his hands. “Come live with me, there’s a great college near where I’ll have to stay, you can study there! It isn’t a mountain but it’ll keep you away from your dad.”

Only now you notice that you’re both crying, and for the first time in years yours are happy tears.

“I would love that.”

“Really?!” He kisses you again and again, laying you down on the bed between your laughs.

“I can’t wait to see you at my games, you’ll come see them right?”

“I won’t miss a single one.” You smile as he kisses your jaw. “I’ll be your lucky charm.” You chuckle.

“You’re better than my lucky charm, you’re my little star, the light of my life.”

You kiss him with a smile. He keeps calling you his star, but little does he know that he’s the sun of your life.

Your savior, the man who will take you away from you father.

The man you love.

Like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, but don’t feel forced to!

[charcubed]

Disneyland's Rogers: The Musical, propaganda that turns Steve Rogers into more myth than man, and revisionist history (possibly) to a purpose

Any of my thoughts in this post could just be me reading too far into things. I'm very aware of that, and please know that this post exists just because this sort of thing is fun for me! This is a thought exercise where we propose "What if we live in a world where the MCU is actually doing a cool and interesting thing as a longcon?" If you have anger at Marvel, that's valid and relatable, but please don't get angry at me or imply I'm an MCU stan who doesn't think critically about the mouse. Thanks!

Breaking news: I'm back on my bullshit!

A quick personal recap: I infamously hated Avengers: Endgame for a long list of reasons (and I even rewrote the movie). One of those reasons is that I've always taken issue with Steve's ending. But in the years since then, and as the MCU's phase 4 has evolved, my frustration at Steve's "ending" has turned into an ongoing and legitimate theory that the MCU could be slowly leading into a loosely adapted Secret Empire plot line. I know we've all been joking about Steve being trapped or about an imposter Steve since 2019, but uhhh, it's kind of not a joke to me anymore? It feels weirdly plausible at this point and so I enjoy discussing the potential.

You can find a full elaboration on that here, where I wrote out my "Steve was snatched by HYDRA" theory in 2021.

In that post, one of the things I mentioned at the time was Rogers: The Musical being in the Hawkeye trailer.

[The musical's] very existence is an example of how in-universe the stories of the lives of the heroes are being commodified, especially (in terms of how they’re framing it) for Steve’s. The heroes are no longer seen as people, if they ever were. They are, as Kate Bishop says to Clint in a recently released clip, more about “branding.” Sam Wilson will be redefining the shield moving forward in a Cap context, but simultaneously, the world is still enamored by Steve Rogers as a symbol in his own right. And that is ripe for manipulation as a Trojan horse to control public opinion… whether in the context of things like this by themselves (is the musical portraying Steve accurately, or is it painting an inaccurate picture of him the world accepts as fact?) or in future (is this propaganda that makes the public see Steve a certain way and continue to love him, to set up a fake or brainwashed Steve coming on the scene later?).

Now a form of the musical exists in full, at Disneyland and all over Youtube. Considering some of its baffling content – which I will break down below – this perspective seems even more strongly worth considering.

I have two main reasons for why I'm defending examining this musical so closely:

1. It is (arguably) an in-universe piece of media that has bearing on the MCU canon. It isn't like any other typical Disneyland attraction; its very existence is meta and it was in canon first. Obviously it's seen in Hawkeye, but there are also posters for it in several different phase 4 properties. It's lurking in the background indefinitely. So what can this musical tell us about what the wider public within the MCU is being told about the life story of Steve Rogers?

2. This Secret Empire graphic – which is animated in the center of the stage of a prolonged period of time – feels like a literal sign to pay attention.

Granted, this is obviously still ancillary material. 99% of the MCU audience will never see this musical, whether in person or on YouTube. But just because it isn't a vital piece doesn't mean it's automatically an entirely irrelevant piece.

They've given me an inch with that sign and I'm taking a mile.

So if you're interested, please join me on this journey :)

For the record, let me just say that I salute the creative team behind this show. It's pretty fun and the songs are catchy, the sets and costuming are cool, and the cast is overall very talented.

It's also fucking maddening. LMAO.

Why? Firstly, because of the seemingly deliberate ahistorical inaccuracies. We all know Ant-Man is wrongly shown in the Battle of New York, which originally "came from [the Hawkeye showrunner] and Marvel, as something to further aggravate Hawkeye as he watched the show, and also as a comment on how movies and articles and people always get something wrong." It seems like they expanded those meta nods, but most inaccuracies are now in service of glorifying Steve and Peggy's "love story." Yes, romance objectively makes for good theater; but again, I feel that this is worth examining considering the full context.

And secondly, Steve's ending is framed as an offer presented to him, convincing him it's the happy ending he deserves because he's tired. In my mind, these two big elements go together, and I'll walk you through the details of what happens in the musical before I tie the thought threads back around into some theorizing.

For your reference, here's a list of the main songs and story beats:

• "U-S-Opening Night" - the Starkettes (who are basically a Greek chorus) frame the show's story, and then it turns into an ensemble that loosely takes place at the Stark Expo. • "I Want You" – Steve's "I want" song about trying to enlist in the army. • "Star-Spangled Man With A Plan" – Steve performing on the USO tour obviously, and then there's a reprise with an added voiceover that (very briefly) covers the Howling Commandos' rescue + the war via comic book imagery. • "What You Missed" – Fury and the Starkettes tell Steve some pop culture things he missed while he was frozen, + they tell him about the Avengers. Then Fury goes down a list of other hero characters, including the Guardians? Doctor Strange? Wanda?? It plays loose and fast with time, because many non-2012 characters are bafflingly mentioned in this nonlinear Avengers list – including the Winter Soldier (???). • "Save the City" – this is the song seen in Hawkeye, with the civilians + the Avengers all involved, but it's slightly different here and expanded to also reference other battles. • "End of the Line" – Old Steve presents main Steve with the time stone as an opportunity for his happy ending, and they reflect on things together. (Yes, this is insane.) • "Just One Dance" – Steve and Peggy reunite and sing about their love. • And then there's basically a reprise of "Save the City," with the Starkettes and the whole cast closing the finale out.

Right out of the gate, let's address this: the main reason you're going to see some fans pissed about this musical is not only that Steve and Peggy's ~epic romance~ is made a pillar of the story... but also that Bucky's importance/involvement in Steve's life is minimized as much as possible.

And they took Bucky-related elements from canon and made them center more around Peggy instead.

• For some weird reason, Peggy is in the Stark Expo scene. When a soldier is hitting on the Starkettes ("hey sweetheart, I wanna dance!"), Steve tells the soldier to show the ladies some respect. The soldier grabs Steve and throws him down, and then Peggy swoops in to yell "Pick on someone your own size!" and punches the guy before walking away. So she's given Bucky's TFA line verbatim, and she is given the role he had of saving Steve from bullies. There is blatantly no reason they couldn't have had Bucky still serve that function and be truer to "history," because he briefly enters this scene in uniform less than a minute later to announce he's shipping out to the 107th – and then he spins off with a date on his arm. (We don't see Bucky on stage again until the full cast comes out for the finale!)

• After the Star-Spangled Man show, Peggy rushes in to talk to Steve. Steve is excited about his USO performance (???) but she urgently tells him to listen as she says that the 107th has been captured. Peggy apparently knows it's Bucky's division, and she knows Steve is going to go, so she tells him that she's already arranged transport for him. This is a subtle twist from the truth of how it went down in TFA, in which Steve recognized 107 as the number of Bucky's division, and his dogged determination inspired Peggy to relent and help his rescue mission. Here, Peggy is given a stronger role in the Cap origin story. And before Steve rushes off, Peggy sings a short untitled ballad hoping for their dance, so Steve pauses before he leaves to ask her to go on a date with her when he returns. • The most egregious Bucky-to-Peggy change of all is the song "End of the Line," in which the infamous Steve and Bucky line/promise (that broke Bucky's brainwashing...) is re-contextualized to be about ???? Peggy waiting for Steve in the past??? Old Man Steve and regular Steve sing it together. But we'll go back to that in a minute.

Again, I get it, yeah? It's for theater. Whatever. But in reality, the obvious logical truth is that Peggy is centered (to the point of taking elements from Bucky's story, and in turn Bucky is downplayed) because they needed to convince the audience that Steve going back in time to be with her makes sense. Steve's time travel ending had to be justified, so the Peggy and Steve "love story" had to be a pillar in this with everything else being given lesser weight.

And the inherent selfishness of him doing something as big as going back in time also had to be justified... which is why they do their best to convince you Steve fought so much he deserved it.

Let me elaborate on that by describing the lead-up to the "End of the Line" song.

So, right before "End of the Line" is "Save the City" – which includes Steve belting "I can do this all day!" repeatedly, of course. It's the 2012 Battle of New York as the Avengers come together to win.

As they begin to disperse, the song then transitions to a voiceover alert mentioning Sokovia being under attack by artificial intelligence (a.k.a. Age of Ultron). The Avengers group rushes back to center stage to say "Save the city! Help us win!" together for battle again.

And then things get fucking weird.

Because the next voiceover threat is "Washington DC. Attack: the Winter Soldier." This is not accurate to the order of events! The Winter Soldier events were before Age of Ultron; the public of the MCU would also know this.

And suddenly on stage Steve is now in the center while everyone else gestures to him. Instead of singing with him, they're telling him "Save the city! Help us win!"

Then, another voiceover: "Wakanda, under attack" (Infinity War) and again, Steve is centered while everyone else points to him. The ensemble says, "Save the city, help us win! Save us all from the state we're in! Got to hear you, got to hear you, got to hear you say..." as Steve is buckling to his knees under their pointing. And as the lights go down to one spotlight on him and everyone else leaves, he says "I can do this all day" one last time, but now it's subdued.

The implication is that Steve has been fighting and fighting, people leave him or he loses them, and he's tired.

And then fucking Old Man Steve arrives.

He says "On your left," because yes, they gave him Sam Wilson's line. BATSHIT.

So now there's two Steves on stage! There has been no mention of Thanos or infinity stones or anything up to this point! (I can only assume that's because in the MCU universe no one would want to be reminded of the trauma of "the Blip" – though it's pretty wild that they're allowed to know about magical time travel?)

Steve is baffled by Old Man Steve's arrival. I, too, was baffled by Old Man Steve's arrival.

As Steve questions how this is possible, Old Man Steve shows him the time stone from his pocket – and only the time stone – which Steve recognizes.

OLD MAN: "You've got to remember where you've been to know where you're going." STEVE: "Where am I going?" OLD MAN: "A date with destiny." STEVE: “Destiny. So we’re the hero till the end?” OLD MAN: “That’s the thing about endings, Steven. They can be rewritten.”

Lmao???????

Steve starts singing about how he hopes this means they "win" and calls himself a "tired hero."

STEVE: "But sometimes I wonder, who will save the savior? Can we really do this all day? So here I am, now and also then. Just a man, looking back at where he's been." OLD MAN: "The road is rough but wounds are healed by a thing called time. You can't forget what's waiting at the end of the line."

Me, watching this: the fact that he says this out of the blue makes absolutely no sense.

There's a bit more singing, including "end of the line" repetition, and then Old Man Steve pulls out the time stone to essentially show visions of... I don't fucking know. Past, present, and future?

That's pre-serum Steve, Steve with Mjolnir, and Sam Wilson as the new Cap. This is the only reference to Sam in the whole thing.

More singing, and then: Peggy's silhouette.

OLD MAN: "Can't forget who's waiting..." STEVE: "I can't forget who's waiting..." BOTH: "Don't forget who's waiting..." STEVE: "At the end of the line."

At this point I'm like, what in the hell?

Did Old Man Steve just brainwash normal Steve into thinking "end of the line" is now about Peggy? Because uhhhh, sorry, that's what it feels like!

Then Steve uses the stone to go back in time, reunites with Peggy, etc. etc. finale.

It's truly some crazy shit.

[drags hands down face]

Look... there's a lot to unpack here, and there's a lot that gets me about it. I know this is dramatized for the stage! I KNOW! But the fact that Old Man Steve shows up to convince Steve he should go back in time makes me want to gnaw on furniture.

Another person essentially uses the lure of a life with Peggy to tempt Steve into doing this, dramatized or not. That is how it's framed.

It's a hell of a way to frame it, and it makes Steve's ending stand in even starker contrast to so many other things in phase 4. Desperately trying to go backwards when you shouldn't or to bring back a lost lover is an evil temptation, and it results in a trap or negative cosmic consequences for basically all of the other characters in the MCU.

• In Shang-Chi, Wenwu is tempted by the Soul Eaters beyond the Dark Gate. They use the voice of his deceased wife to convince him to set them free. • In "What If" episode 4, Doctor Strange becomes evil in a desperate bid to save Christine and he destroys his universe. Along the way, he tries to tempt/trap the good Strange who's fighting him by using visions of Christine, but good Strange knows she isn't real. • Wanda's grief and desire to bring back Vision leads to – well, you know. • In No Way Home, Peter trying to undo things is what causes the multiverse problems.

And the fact that they frame it as Steve being tired, so basically the argument is he deserves that time travel ending (just like MCU fans who defend Endgame say in real life)... Well.

There's no way to make it hold up, especially because in "What If" they explicitly subverted that and had Captain Carter not go back in time despite how she felt she'd "earned" it.

Lastly, in this musical as Steve decides to pursue time travel as his course of action, he basically has the meaning or memory of "end of the line" rewritten for him. I refuse to not think that is some nefarious shit. Yes, it's not out of the realm of possibility that it's just some general Disney erasing Steve and Bucky nonsense.

But... this is on another level to me. I do think that it's a blatant choice that they had to be aware even general MCU fans would call bullshit on. Everyone knows it's inaccurate. "End of the line" is embedded in pop culture consciousness as being connected to Bucky. It just is! Surely that means it's not a stretch to theorize it could be deliberate meta commentary.

How, in the MCU world, would the in-universe playwrights even know the phrase "end of the line"? How the fuck would it be accidentally applied to Steve and Peggy? Not to sound like a crazy person, but who the fuck was rooting around in Steve and/or Bucky's personal business or their brains in order to obtain that knowledge and then remix it, and why? Neither of them would flippantly mention it in the public eye or interviews ever. So where did its inclusion come from?

And in the finale ensemble, this is Bucky's line when he comes out on stage and salutes + points to Steve: "Don't forget who's waiting..." And Old Man Steve completes it with "...at the end of the line."

What on God's green earth am I meant to do with THAT?

Smh.

The vibes are fucked, folks.

The MCU public wouldn't know enough to say the vibes are fucked. The MCU public wouldn't know the origin of "end of the line" as a phrase. But us? The ones who know the "true story" via the movies? We can call bullshit.

Whether the creative team behind this musical did every aspect of this consciously or not, in my opinion the fact that they had to tweak canon "history" to A) make Peggy's involvement in Steve's life more central and B) emphasize Steve as a tired hero all works as commentary on and almost a condemnation of Endgame's frustrating ending. In a way, it's also what Endgame did with the compass and 1973 moment with Peggy as well.

Steve's ending had to be convincing.

It's theater.

And so, maybe the same is true for the in-narrative perspective of this musical in the context of the MCU world. What purpose would it serve to tell the MCU public a feel-good narrative about how all Steve Rogers wanted was to no longer be a tragic man out of time and get to make a life with his best girl? To frame it as being about how he fought so hard for years and so he earned a happy ending? To minimize and nearly erase Bucky's importance in his life?

Who would want to do that sort of propaganda, and why?

The MCU civilians are given this happy explanation and maybe don't widely question it. Who cares about the details or logistics if it makes a good story, I guess. It's a stretch, but maybe they mostly applaud it. Maybe they're happy for "America's favorite son" (not unlike people who uncritically liked Endgame). In a way, it's even a rehabilitation of his image (after the Accords) like putting the shield on the Statue of Liberty. And maybe they'd even be ready and waiting to applaud if Steve ever made a dramatically selfless and de-aged return to the spotlight or a position of authority.

But mostly, the public is being conditioned to not know or to forget that anyone else like Bucky Barnes or Sam Wilson would possibly know Steve Rogers the person well enough in the modern day to call bullshit on any of this – or on his hypothetical miraculous future return.

So. Sure, it's probably nothing.

But what if it's not?

-------

UPDATE: @faeriecap added to this post with some incredible information and further behind-the-scenes context about the MCU/Marvel stuff at Disney parks! Check it out here :)

[jbbarnesandnoble]

What could have been

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Summary: Steve attends the wedding of his first love, now he can only wonder what could have been.

Warnings: angst angst angst, regret, my best friend's wedding type pain, Steve doesn't get the girl in the end so the pairing is a lie... sorry

Word Count: 1,435

a/n: wow, the first thing I choose to write in years is angst, I came back and chose violence. But fr, I'm surprised anyone is still here (or you just forgot you followed me haha) anyway, I saw those pictures of Chris and knew I just had to write something. I've also wanted to get back into writing for the longest time but have been so busy. This is definitely not the best thing I've ever written, and I'm sorry for any typos or errors (I didn't proof read) but I did it and I am proud of myself for doing it! I hope you enjoy it and feel free to leave feedback!

(not my pic)

Fairy lights shimmer and glow over the banquet hall, candles glow at each table, couples young and old crowd on the dance floor all swaying and dancing to a cover of 'Can't Help Falling in Love'. Steve watches from the sidelines, a wistful look upon his handsome face. Though he wears a smile, it fails to match the hint of sorrow in the blue of his eyes.

"It's a wedding, Steve, not a funeral." Bucky jabs at his best friend as he sits in the empty seat next to the blond. Steve laughs, though forced, it was a laugh nonetheless. A moment of silence passes between the two men before either of them speak. Steve is the first to break the silence.

"I screwed up." Was all he could muster.

"You just realized?" Though masked as a jab, Bucky's question carried much truth to it. Steve had made a grave mistake and it took him far too long to realize. Now, he knows he will never be able to share his true feelings with her.

"Her wedding is a real crappy place to have this realization, isn't it?" His blue eyes look to the table across from him, he watches Y/n for a moment and for a split second, he imagines what could have been had he had the courage to tell her how he truly felt. Maybe he would have been the one to make her smile, the one to make her laugh, the one the hold her when she needs a shoulder to cry on. He sucks in a sharp and quite painful breath as he wonders if he could have been the one she walked down the isle to today.

"Bucky I-" Tears prick at his eyes, a lump forms in his throat. He no longer wishes to speak because he knows if he does he will break. Bucky places a supportive hand

A few songs have played and ended before he finds the composure to continue, "I wanted to support her, to show her I'm happy for her, because I am. But I..." his voice drowns in the now upbeat music, most of the guests are now on the dance floor jumping and dancing to the song currently playing, the bride and groom included.

Steve looks away, his eyes falling to his plate of untouched food. It looks and smells delicious, but he hardly has the stomach for it right now. His eyes fell onto the glass of wine next to his plate, he might not be hungry, but he could surely use a drink. He picks the glass up and downs it in one swig.

"It was selfish of me to come here when I'm in love with her." The words fall past his lips, his face changes from a look of grief to one of disappointment. He can't help but feel guilty for attending her wedding only to sulk in a corner for the entire night.

"You being here means the world to her, Steve." Bucky says, looking at him with all sincerity. "Just take a look," he points across the room and even in the dim lighting he sees her in all her beauty. Her hair is done in a low bun, a few pieces were left out as a face frame. Her makeup is simple, but even if it were done extravagantly, it would have been in vain, for her dress was the talk of the evening, it truly made the bride look like royalty. 

Even in the crowd of people, she manages to find Steve's eyes, a small flush creeps into his cheeks. A radiant smile spreads across her painted lips which makes Steve's heart skip a beat or two. He wishes she wouldn't smile at him like that, like he was the one she had married that day.

Lucky for Steve, he's smart enough to know that she looks at her now husband with a look that she reserves for him. Steve hopes the guy knows how lucky he is.

"Steve, Bucky!" Y/n yells over the music. The two men stand to greet her and offer their congratulations. "Thank you so much for being here. It means the world to me!" She adds with a joyous smile. Bucky gives Steve a knowing look.

"We wouldn't have missed it." Bucky says for the both of them. Steve attempts to listen as Bucky asks Y/n endless questions about the wedding and how she's feeling. Steve can't help but think that having to entertain so many guests all in an evening would be the most draining part of it all.

"I'm drained physically, but I feel so full." She beams at them, her eyes shimmering from the fairy lights or love Steve isn't sure. But he is sure of one thing, even if he isn't the reason for her joy, all he's ever wanted was to see her smile and that's exactly what he's getting.

"I'm glad." The words fall past Steve's lips before he can think. He smiles at her and for the first time this evening, it's genuine. She thanks them both once more before the DJ calls the newlyweds to get ready to make their exit. With that, she takes her leave. Steve and Bucky find themselves alone once more.

Outside of the venue the guests line either side of the exit, each waiting with anticipation to send off the new Mr. and Mrs. Each guest was given a sparkler to light for when the couple makes their exit.

Steve stands at a distance, watching from the back of the small parking lot, wishing not to be spotted. With a few more drinks in him he's even less sure that he'll maintain his composure. Especially after how he barely managed to keep it together inside. A breeze blows gently, sweeping disheveled blond hair into his face.

The cool autumn air pricks at his skin, but it does little to chill him. From the drinks or being naturally warm, he isn't sure, but he's happy either way since he left his jacket inside.

Blue eyes watch as everyone gets ready to send the bride and groom off, friends laugh and share stories about the couple's early days. The mother of the bride and mother of the groom wipe tears as they remember their children's first steps, now they're married.

He looks up to the night sky, the stars shine so bright it looks as if they are shimmering. The moon shines brightest of all as it reflects the sun, it illuminates the night. Casting light on that which is in darkness.

He rocks gently with the wind as he observes the galaxy. Loud cheering pulls him from thoughts of a different life, the bride and groom, Y/n and her husband, have made their exit. His right hand falls to his pant pocket and pulls out a sparkler and matches.

It takes him a second to light it, as though lighting it is what seals their marriage. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he lights it and waves it in tribute to the newly weds.

Waving a sparkler is a simple thing, mindless even. He waves it back and forth, watching his first love from a distance, watches as she beams at another man that is now her husband, he watches as she leans in to kiss him, as they get into his car and drive away.

Soon, the sparkler fizzes out and he's alone again in the dark. For how long he's unsure, for at some point his vision began to blur and he could no longer see clearly. Hot tears stream down his rosy cheeks, and drip onto his dress shirt.

It is now, after the dancing and celebration, after the food and drink, after the laughter and conversation that he can finally fall apart. His heart aches in his tight chest. It's that kind of pain that feels like your heart could give out at any moment. It's the kind of pain that sinks into your stomach and makes you sick. For the first time that night, he falls apart, in the middle of that parking lot.While he is happy for her, it is now he realized that he only ever focused on being happy for her. Not once did he stop to realize the importance of grieving what could have been. For the first time, Steve has allowed himself to grieve the loss of his first love. Not because she had died, but because he never took a chance. Now he is left wondering what could have been.

[theinheriteddutchess]

Song Of Betrayal

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Underneath the water lurks a creature that's deceivingly dangerous. It's not much safer for you on land. Still, you never expected to die.

Word count: just over 4000

Warnings: death, murder, deceit, killing and eating humans, dark romance, miscarriage, domestic violence, manipulation, pregnancy, minors dni

Notes: here it is. My dark siren skinny!Steve story. Let me know what you think, I thrive on comments and reblogs 💕

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“What are you doing here?” you turned your head, smiling at the sight of the man walking towards you. He grinned at you, and your heart fluttered. Something wasn't right. He shouldn't be here. He didn't know where you went hiking, he told you he was going to go over to a friend. You went here to clear your head. You're favorite spot. Secluded. Things had been rough lately. You'd lost the baby. The stress had been too much for your body. He hadn't wanted it. But he still blamed you for losing it. 

Yelled at you, then ignored you for days. Refused to bring you to your check ups. You started worrying he got sick of you. You actually suspected he was playing around on you. You always watched him like a hawk. Trying to prevent a fight, trying to make him happy. So when he acted different, you knew. The way he left you alone, the way he touched you less. Of course he became meaner, but at least you got a break once in a while, when he was gone. 

And now he was here. But the look on his face was off. He was smiling, and his eyes looked pleased, but something looked wrong. Abnormal. It was like the bigger his smile became, the more inhuman he looked. 

“Came to see you, of course.”

“How did you know I was here?” your heart was beating a mile a minute. You kept telling yourself you shouldn't have to worry. This was your boyfriend. He loved you, right? He had talked about marrying you in the past. He was safe. Wasn't he?

“I followed you.” He simply said. “Need to know where my girl is at all times, remember?”

You did. 

He always wanted you to let him know if you went out. Even if it was to the grocery store. Or a walk. But you had never shared this specific place. This place was between you and your mother. The place where you scattered her ashes after she died, like she requested. 

And now he was here. And it felt wrong. 

“Thought you kept it from me? I saw you here all those times. Crying, like the weak bitch you are. Missing your mommy. Blaming me for your failures. But we both know it's you, isn't it? You're so…disappointing. A weight around my neck.”

“I-” but you didn't know what you were going to say. 

“Shh, I need you to be quiet. The last thing you can do for me.” He walked towards you, while you took a few steps. He suddenly looked taller than he was, towering over you, and you felt like you were going to have a panic attack because it seemed you couldn't breath properly. You couldn't forget the time he had grabbed your throat, and though he hadn't squeezed you couldn't forget what it felt like, knowing he could tighten it if he had wanted to. You froze. Hoping to calm him down. Running made him angry. But then, lately, what didn't? 

“It's a good thing you love this place so much. It's so…deserted.” He murmured. As his hands grabbed your arms and he pulled you towards him, his cheeks pressed against yours. “And you get to be with your mommy forever.”

And then you were falling.

Everything was cold. And dark. You were dead. You thought so for a long minute. The quiet, the peace, what else could it be?

But there was movement. And the thought slithered inside of you that you were not. You had to move. You have to move!

As you opened your eyes, you saw white at first. And then, more colors rushed forward and combined, and you could make out a light beam and shapes and shadows and you noticed you were under water. 

You were floating, no drifting, no, moving…you couldn't yet make sense of it, but your body wasn't still. Though how could you be alive? How could you breath? You swallowed water but it didn't burn, it didn't suffocate. 

There was a boy, no, a man. There was a man! Your eyes turned to slits and you flinched. But he didn't move. He was staring at you. 

He was.. Unappealing. You couldn't help thinking it. Ugly maybe, was the first word you thought. He was so odd looking. Silver or grey covered his body, webbed hands, his eyes were not normal, like cats or a reptile. The irisses so different than a human. And he had fins around his arms and back. Weird ridges on his back.

He scared you. He looked terrifying. 

He opened his mouth to speak, and the sharp shape of his teeth were making him look even more sinister. This was a danger. 

“Are you hungry?”

What? 

“You must be. I was. When I woke. I have food.” He was offering it to you with his webbed hands and it had a few fishes in it that you were apparently to take. Raw, dead fish. Their open mouths in terror, bug eyes staring at you with empty looks.

“It's fresh,” he said, like it mattered. 

Your eyes darted around. “Where am I?” Your voice, you had a voice, sounded so different under water. Was this a dream? Would you wake up?

“You're in the sea. He killed you, you drowned, you're…one of us.”

“Us?”

“Mermaids, Siren, the lot.”

“I'm going to wake up soon, aren't I?” You murmured, it sounded like a plea. 

He grinned again. Those horribly sharp teeth too near you for your liking. “No, you already did. I know it's a lot, but you won't have to be alone. Like I was. I will help you. No one did for me, but I won't let you go through that. I can explain, but you must be calm. You can't turn back, it's done.”

Turn back? You didn't understand. You tried to swim, but you're legs didn't work, it seemed to move both of them, and it was when you looked down, you noticed that your body was attached to a tail. Like someone had cut them off and attached a random long tail instead. It looked hideous. You grabbed it. Scaly. Hard. You panicked, but the lack of heart pumping in your chest only added to it. You started grabbing your tail firmly, trying to get it off,  when cold, harsh hands gripped yours and took them away, and held them tight so you couldn't hurt yourself.

“Stop! You can't hurt yourself. We don't die. Not easily, you will just harm yourself but you won't escape it. It's a curse.”

“A curse?” You cried out, confused. 

“When you die in the water, you turn into this, a siren. He murdered you, I saw it, who was he?”

You blinked, and it felt like you had to twice before your eyesight was sharp again. “My boyfriend.”

He tipped his head to the side. “He killed you, without remorse, he gave you a water’s death. You will live here forever. Dead but not dead. You will hunt and eat and you will be alone, if you choose. Unless…”

“Unless what?” You said shakily. The thought of being alone in this cold dark place frightened you. To be left all alone, with nothing, no one, seemed impossible to bear.

“Unless you come with me. I will take care of you. I will teach you. The sea is cruel, but I can help you.”

You eyed him. He was skinny, he wasn't bigger than you, he looked frail, but what choice did you have? He might not be able to physically protect you, but he knew more than you, he said he could help. What else was left for you? 

“Can I turn back?”

“Never.”

And your new life began. Steve was there. All the time. He taught you to hunt, everything that came nearby was food. You had to get used to a tail, the way your eyes had a nictitating membrane to protect your eyes, the way your teeth could easily cut through flesh and bone. 

Steve was a very serious guy. He seemed to always be in thought, and for someone small, he had a fierce personality. 

He didn't allow any of the others to be near you.

“Nasty creatures,” he hissed. “They look pretty, but they are cold. They will not hesitate to rip you to shreds.”

You feared them. At first you were taken with their beauty, their colors. Steve's were so dull, you were too. At least his scales were shiny, while yours seemed to repel any color or shine. 

“It's because you haven't completed the curse,” he'd explained. “You have purpose now.”

“What is it?”

“You were placed here to right wrongs.”

“And what does that mean?”

“You are to punish those who harm others. Like the one who put your here.”

You thought of your boyfriend, who had turned you to your death. The pleasure you’d seen in his eyes before you fell. The cold of the water as it swallowed you, how it sucked you in its current and took you. 

“You punish them?”

Steve nodded. “I do.”

“Has someone harmed you?” you asked him. 

His face tightened, the thin skin looking skeletal on his bones. “They did, and I made them pay.”

“How?”

He grinned, and it caused a shiver going through you even if the cold wasn't supposed to touch you. 

“I will tell you one day.”

You weren't sure if you wanted to know.

But until you did your purpose, you were stuck looking like this. Plainer than Steve even. 

You had watched the mermaids, in all their beauty and grace. All smiles and playfulness. Unless they ate. Blood still poured from the carcasses they killed, pieces of flesh ripped and devoured. And they hated people. Played with the ones dying. But their beauty still enthralled you. A sense of envy when you saw them, then looked at your own colors. 

But Steve, he was excluded. They whispered about him, and turned their backs. It was clear they disliked him.

But they didn't attack him. 

“They tried,” he says, puffing up. “But I'm stronger than them.”

That was strange, you hadn't expected him to. But it turned out Steve was a lot stronger than he seemed. 

He was determined and waited for the right moment, but once he made a decision he was precise and his prey never stood a chance.

Time passed different underwater. You started forgetting things about your life soon. It didn't matter. But certain things were never forgotten. A person wronged you. It needed to be righted. Steve told you, it would bring peace. The man who had murdered you needed to be punished. Were you going to let him live a happy life? No. He was right. That man was dangerous. Had wronged you. How many more lives did he hurt? 

“He deserves it,” Steve insisted, circling around you. “How can he live while you have died? Is that fair?”

“No,” you agreed. You turned with him as he kept circling. Things were easier now, swimming went without thinking, hunting became easier. The more you learned, the calmer you felt. The first time you watched Steve drown a person, you were frozen. In the back of your mind you knew this should be wrong. That you would not have liked it if you had been human. But you weren't. That was taken from you. And this new life had been given to you. A purpose. You watched him drag the man deeper into the water. Watched the fanatic look of devotion on the man's face as he kept staring at Steve until his last heartbeat, until the water took him. Like Steve was the only thing that mattered. Like Steve was the most beautiful thing in this world. And Steve was beautiful. The more time you had spent with him, the more you noticed things you hadn't before.

The blue of his eyes, so bright and clear, the pupils only accentuating the color of them. The way his grey scales sparkled like silver in the sunlight. His sharp teeth not bothering you anymore, or his webbed hands, not when it showed his strength and hunting precision. The way his hands grabbed your arms when he needed your full attention. He never hesitated to touch you. Where to stir you into the right direction, point your attention somewhere, or grooming. It was something you did often. You never thought yourself overly vain in your human life, even if those memories faded more and more, but you knew you enjoyed it now. 

Breaking the surface to sit on a rock overseeing the beauty of the ocean, bathing in the sunlight and letting Steve braid your hair, putting little things in the braids like shells or sparkly things that made you feel pretty. 

You returned the favor, his hair soft under your fingers. He always looked happy after. He enjoyed your attentions. You knew he hadn't had it for a long time. You had not seen sirens around, no matter where you went, and the mermaids were repulsed by him. And he had told you, when he was human he was teased and beaten. And one day the beatings weren't enough. That they had lured him to the cliffs and they had beaten him for the last time, threw his body off the edge and watched him disappear. 

But he had taken revenge. 

He had lured them into the water and killed them. Made sure they recognized him before he ripped them apart. He didn't even eat them. He was repulsed by the thought of consuming anything of them, he pulled them deep inside the ocean and tied up their dead bodies and watched them slowly rot and be eaten by other life. 

Until there was nothing left but their bones. Still safely tied in the deep. He had shown you. And a rage welled up in you at the sight. These men had hurt him. But this strong man, who was so very part of you, had taken revenge. Had made sure they didn't exist anymore. 

“This is your purpose.” He had told you, as he watched the rage on your face.

“To kill the men who do this.”

And you knew he was right. 

People like these men, people like your former lover, didn't deserve to live. Didn't deserve any happiness. 

And there was a power you hadn't had before. A strength no one could resist. 

Steve showed you. When he sang it was beautiful. Clear and powerful, and your dead heart almost felt alive. But it was just a song. Until he showed you how the humans reacted to it. 

As soon as they heard his song, they stopped with whatever they were doing to listen. And then he could make them do whatever he wanted. He could lure them into the water, he could make them want him so much they fought each other over it. He could deny them, so they kept where they were, staring into the water in hope of a glance at him, until they withered and died.

They went mad with desire for him.

The look on their faces as he killed them. Nothing but devotion and exhilaration to have his attention on them. Their lives meant nothing to them anymore. 

It was beautiful. 

He told you that was your power.

Mermaids were beautiful, and they could lure people in with their looks, but they often didn't dare to come closer and be captured, humans desired them, but they kept their wits.

“But Sirens,” Steve told you. “They can't be resisted. When we sing, they will do anything to be near us. You can eat them alive and they will not fight you. They want you so much, they will offer themselves and anything they have to have even a glance at you.” the glint in his eyes would be chilling, but you listened with rapt attention. 

You wondered if it was his voice or his face that lured people in. 

It was beautiful to you now. His face. Alluring, with his blue eyes and full lips, the skinniness of him giving him an otherworldly beauty.

He had told you how lonely he had been. Had. He never used present tense anymore. It made you feel fiercely for him. Emotions had changed to you, where there was warmth there was fire, where there used to be anger there was cold, everything was different. But your feelings for Steve were inexplicably devoted, you didn't imagine your life without him. 

Two sirens, alone, but together. 

You watched the mermaids have babies, they sometimes mated with humans. You watched with confused intrigue. They were so tiny and helpless, but they learned quickly. There were no siren babies. 

“Mermaids are born or turned,” Steve explained. “I don't know if we can have children.”

No one told Steve anything when he turned. He had been shunned for being a siren. For being ugly, for being powerful. They feared him and envied him for his power. 

They didn't like you either. And the more you witnessed them, the more you disliked them. Their vanity, their cruelty, their colors now looked too bright and showy. Everything was too much. They just had beauty. Not brains like Steve. Not his sturdiness and devotion. 

His touch sometimes felt like it warmed you up. His kisses cut your mouth, but you both didn't mind it. 

His hands explored every part of you. He used to paint, he told you, the one thing he wished he could still do. If he couldn't paint you on canvas, he would paint you with touch. 

You couldn't remember sex as a human anymore. There had been no one. Just Steve. Your past didn't feel like yours anymore. Only your hatred. Only your urge for revenge. 

Nothing mattered but hurting those who hurt others. Humans always hurt someone. 

You realized that as you watched Steve lure more people into the sea for you to eat.

They always turned out to be flawed, every single one of them. 

No one wanted you but Steve, and you wanted him. It wasn't even a thought anymore, just reality. You spend your life with him, forever. 

And then one day, everything fell into place. The last piece.

The sun was shining bright, you had been sitting here for a while, your hair had dried completely. Steve’s was shining in the light, his scales shimmering brightly. He was looking at you with such happiness. Your hand touched his face gently, like you couldn't stop touching him. 

“It will be so easy. You will sing, and you will know what to do.” He told you. 

He showed up. Skinny, sunken eyes, he looked like death alive. How much time had passed? You did not know. Nor cared.

The hatred flared up inside of you. 

This was the man. The man who had harmed you. The man who had taken your life. He was so ugly. He was repulsive. You watched him move, slowly, like he was in pain, and he was monstrous. He was no threat to you, however. You began to sing, just like Steve had told you. And it was easy. The notes coming out, so beautiful. 

The man shivered, looked pained. But he obeyed.

He stumbled forward, into the water. Ankles deep. Clothes getting wet the more he waded through the water. Chin almost under, and down he went. 

As soon as the last of his hair disappeared you jumped into the water. Graceful. The water was guiding you, your speed unchallenged as you caught up with him. 

You thought about Steve's humans, untouched, undevoured, tied down for eternity. But your baby had to eat. 

You bit into his neck and ignored the blood that flowed down the water as you bit into him over and over again. Every bite nurturing you, nurturing your growing child.

When you were done, you turned and Steve was right behind you. 

His eyes shining brightly, he was pleased.

“Look.” He said. 

You followed his stare. Your tail shining grey, almost silver in the sunbeams shining through the water. Like Steve. You watched your webbed hands as they glided through the water. Felt the sharp teeth, not realizing how easy it had been to rip through the man until now. How you turned once you lured him into the sea.

“You're like me,” Steve chuckled. “ With me. All together.”

He was happy, and you grinned, your pointy teeth on display. 

A family, tied together. You would never be alone, and neither would Steve be ever again. 

He watched her round with his child. Stroking her belly tenderly, humming at it. Their song didn't harm their own, only other creatures. Their child would be safe. Strong. What could harm a siren? Steve hadn't found out yet. All his life he had been weak, but not anymore.

It had been amazing to find out how fast he was, how despite his stature he was strong, and how his song would drive others crazy. 

He lived a long time alone, after he turned. Full of hatred and bitterness. All he thought about was the faces of those that hurt him. How he wanted to hurt them back. And then he could. It had turned him into this. But he didn't mind it, he was satisfied. But the loneliness was eating at him. He watched them together, a happy pod, in all their shallowness and cruelty, covered in a sheer sheet of beauty. He had never been beautiful. Not even now. But he was sick of being alone. 

And then he saw her. He was drawn to her sadness. Her pain. She first was with another woman, but then she showed up alone. Like him. She was lost. 

And he watched her look worse and weaker with every visit she made. 

He knew he couldn't touch her. If he lured her, she'd be nothing but a shell. Meat and bones. Turned insane. If he killed her she would have only death. 

But he wanted her.

Steve wasn't stupid. He was probably the smartest creature in the sea, and he could be patient. And he found out what to do when he saw that creature following her, watching her like Steve did.

So he lured him. He was so weak. It was easy. And he told Steve everything he needed to know. Begged him to stay with him. Like Steve would want to be near him any longer than he needed to. 

He told him what to do. Go home. Spy on her, tell Steve everything, make sure she knows nothing. 

And then the day came when everything changed. It went so perfectly, just like he had planned.

He watched her fall and made sure he was by her side as soon as she split the surface. When she woke up. When she was learning. He was there. The man who was with her before had his orders, he still had purpose. He didn't want to, but Steve ordered him and, anything, anything, to make Steve happy. He went home, he was to wait. It didn't matter to Steve how he would wither and suffer. He was only a means to an end.

And Steve had her. He wasn't going to let them near her. To poison her, take her. She didn't need know there was a choice.  He was going to be the only one. And she listened so well. He knew she started to care for him. Look for him. Let him take care of her. Let him touch her. When she touched him, he knew he belonged. He didn't feel lonely anymore. 

He never expected to have children, wasn't sure if he was able to. So when she started swelling, when they sensed what was going on, it felt like his heart was finally beating again. It couldn't. But it was close. She looked serene. When he led the man back and she killed him without hesitation, devoured him, giving their child the nutrition it needed, he couldn't be more proud. 

He watched her change into who she was always supposed to be. Beautiful. His.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 18 – CREATURE FIC

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: newtypeshadow

The sheer amount of creativity in newtypeshadow's fantasy universes is really impressive. I love all of the different types of magic and creatures that they explore, and the world building is off the charts. Plus, the way they write Bucky, Tony and Steve is just lovely, in any constellation they come in.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

The Werewolf, the Witch and the Vampire

Pairing: Steve/Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 2,297 Tags: Urban Fantasy, Getting Together, Protectiveness

Summary: Whoever had broken into Bucky and Steve's backwoods cabin had used a key, Bucky's favorite mug, and was now sleeping in their bed. "This is feeling very Goldilocks, isn't it?" Bucky said.

Reasons why I love it: All of the dialogue in this is super fun and engaging. And the action towards the end even more so. I love the descriptions of Bucky's shifted form, and Tony's magic is super intriguing. I feel like I could read entire books about this 'verse and still not get enough. This fic is wonderful, and you should definitely read it!

Adventures in “Catsitting”

Pairing: Bucky/Tony/Winter Rating: T Words: 2,898 Tags: Symbiote Winter, Pranks, Fluff and Humor

Summary: Tony is stuck in flerken shape at the Tower, in the dubious care of Clint Barton—the Avenger who constantly mocks him for being an adorable little house cat. At least with the pet buttons Bucky programmed for him, Tony can tell Clint to knock it off. The problem is whether Clint will actually listen.

Reasons why I love it: Oh god, Clint truly has a death wish, pissing off the resident flerken. Not to mention the symbiote (and can I just say what a fucking cool concept Winter the Symbiote is? Because it's awesome). This fic is hilarious, and I hope you give it a read!

Little Red Running Witch and the Big White Wolf

Pairing: Bucky/Tony, Steve/Peggy Rating: T Words: 2,569 Tags: Werewolves, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmates

Summary: Tony, an unschooled witch, has fled from Ty, his sorcerer captor, only to attract the attention of a big white wolf. If the wolf catches Tony, he's dead. If Ty catches Tony, he won't be that lucky.

Reasons why I love it: There's so much to like about this one – suspense, action, BAMF Peggy, werewolf mates, Ty getting his comeuppance, it's all great. I love the hopeful ending, and protective Bucky is always a treat, especially when he's all wolfy and growly. Definitely give this one a read, if you haven't already!

Happiness: A Song in Three Parts

Pairing: Steve/Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 3,166 Tags: Soulmates, Kidnapping, Sharing a Bed

Summary: Tony's just a kid when he first hears the music. He's human, no one knows werewolves exist yet, and there's no sexy beefcake couple Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes coming out as werewolves and giving interviews to the press to explain the melody Tony heard sporadically during childhood is what werewolves—and the human mates of werewolves—hear when their soulmate is within a few miles of them. By the time he finds out what the music means, he hasn't heard a note in years. And when he finally hears it again, he's busy running for his life.

Reasons why I love it: Aaah, soulmates just warm my heart. I love the concept of a soul song, and the fact that Tony was already fantasizing about Bucky and Steve before ever meeting them is so cute. Plus, who doesn't like Bucky and Steve getting all protective over Tony? This fic is lovely, and you should definitely read it!

He kindly stopped for me

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: M Words: 2,789 Tags: Rescue, Wolf Bucky, Flirting

Summary: When Tony magically summons help to save himself from spider-goblins, he has no idea the "help" that comes will bring him face to pretty face with death.

Reasons why I love it: Oh my god, the world building in this is fantastic. I'd love to know more about the Death beasts and how the whole magic system works, it's so intriguing. And of course, the Winteriron romance is absolutely wonderful. I love this fic, and I bet you will too, so go ahead and give it a shot!

[ishipallthings]

Cap-IM Rec Week 2023 (Tues)

It's About the Yearning Tuesday, July 18 for @cap-ironman Rec Week!

Today I'm reccing fics based on my favorite trope of all time - pining 💜

Remember to show some love for your hard-working creators!

take my heart clean apart by mistymountainking @stovetuna

Tony comes home exhausted after an SI event. Steve acts as welcoming committee. It's an old, careworn routine they've perfected over the years, but tonight ends up going in a very different direction.

Take A Number by 51stCenturyFox

So what if Tony Stark is sleeping with everybody else (except him)? Why would Steve care? He doesn’t even like Tony, and certainly not like that...

for you I’ll pretend (to fake it) by AvengersNewB @avengersnewb, Lacerta

Steve doesn't think twice when he agrees to help Tony out, even if it kills him inside to attend a gala as Tony's fake date. Tony doesn't know if he can keep up the pretense on this evening out as friends but it's as close as he can get to an actual date, so he takes it. Things don't go as planned though, with all the pining, the pent-up feelings, and bumping into Tony's horrible, obnoxious ex, Ty Stone.

Can't Write One Song (That's Not About You) by FestiveFerret @festiveferret

Ten years ago, Tony fell in love with his roommate: funny, handsome, kind, smart Steve Rogers, who also happened to be the lead singer and guitarist of a band, The Howlies. Then The Howlies made it big, Steve moved away, and Tony vowed to avoid any mention of the band, their songs, and the man he missed his chance with. But chance has a way of giving you exactly what you need, even if you don't know it yet...

you'll be mine and i'll be yours by complicationstoo @ifmywishescametrue

Five words ruin Tony's life. “He doesn't love me back,” Steve says, and Tony feels his world crumble to pieces at his feet. Steve loves someone, and Tony knows it isn't him.

in my head by brucewaynery

Tony tells Steve about solipsism, the theory that everything is merely a figment of your own imagination, and Steve lets something slip.

ignorance is (not) bliss by earliebirb @earliebirb

One of Tony’s hands shoots up to grab his wrist, gripping it tightly. Slowly, Tony opens his eyes. Steve’s blood freezes in his veins. His heart sinks with dread.  “Tony?” Steve hopes that this is just some weird bout of sleepwalking, but Tony doesn’t sleepwalk, and from the thoughtful way Tony regards him, Steve knows that Tony is somehow very much awake, which means— Tony swallows, his eyes wide and alert in a way Steve didn’t think they were capable of being twenty minutes ago.  “Steve,” he says, the single word carrying too much weight.

now I worship a celestial sun by haemodye (616)

A mostly-comedic farce involving: 1 obedience spell, 2 pining Avengers, 1 long-suffering Sorcerer Supreme, and 1 single, extravagant Saint Patrick's Day float.

Not a Perfect Man by Neverever @captainneverever (616)

Steve and Tony are back on track as friends and spending a lot of time together as they form a new Avengers team. But Steve is again in a rocky relationship with Sharon and Tony is dating a new woman. Steve struggles as his long-dormant crush on Tony comes back with a vengeance because he's supposed to be a good man and he doesn't want to lose Tony as a friend. What is he supposed to do as a friend when Tony's new girlfriend turns out to be not good for Tony?

The Culling of the Stars by dirigibleplumbing @dirigibleplumbing (616)

Tony dies saving Steve's life on the courthouse steps. Now Steve is left with the fallout of their Civil War, expected to take charge and preserve Tony's legacy. He doesn't know how he can do it alone—not when he can't stop thinking about Tony, or keep track of the days, or even feel.

What Was It You Wanted by sheron @sheronm

"C'mon, a kiss from Captain America is not so terrible." According to the alien custom, Steve had to kiss each teammate on the mouth, and some kisses come with more aftermath than others.

Down in Lonesome Town by resurrectedhippo

“Why do I always find my way back to you?” Maybe Tony didn’t necessarily return to Steve, but fate is a funny little thing, and after living a life of loss, Steve wants something that’s his to keep. After the universe is restored, Steve is lost without any direction. Retiring from the Avengers, he moves across the country and ends up building a house by a misty blue lake. Across the bridge is Tony Stark’s new workshop.

Hope you guys enjoy the recs, and stay tuned for more! Please mind the tags before reading. Check out my tag for previous years’ rec lists :)

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

The New Day - S.Rogers

Summary - Steve has few fears but one of them is love, it’s one of the fears he’s never faced. It takes a song about love to make him understand that love is a need and nobody is greedy for wanting love.

Word Count- 884

Author’s Note - Day 16! It’s a bit late again, sorry about that, it’s been a busy day and I’ve been exhausted. It’s another Greta song fic! If you’ve never listened to it, I highly recommend you do, it’s such a beautiful song with fantastic lyrics. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, not proofread, kissing

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

Steve Rogers was a man who wouldn’t admit to fears, he was a man that would face these fears head on. However, there was one fear he had, one that he had yet to face head on and that fear was love. He had loved before, his last love being Peggy Carter before he was frozen in time. Since waking up in 2011, he had refused to entertain dating with the fear of potentially falling in love and hurting the person he loved as he had hurt Peggy.

That had all changed after a team holiday movie night, he had been sitting beside a long-time friend and teammate, Y/N. She was the first person to treat him like he was just another guy, not Captain America, not a super soldier, just Steve from Brooklyn. They had formed a connection almost immediately, Steve knew he had feelings but he suppressed them as much as possible. She was well aware of his fear of love and she was more than willing to wait for him. 

The rest of the team had gone off to bed after the last holiday movie had ended, it was just Steve and Y/N sitting on the couch as the credits rolled. She had decided it was a perfect time to show him some new music. “You remember me showing you that band I really like? Greta Van Fleet?” She asked him.

“That’s the one with the short singer, right? Didn’t I go with you to one of their concerts?” Steve replied.

“Yes! Here’s one I haven’t shown you yet, it’s about love, how it’s a need and not something to fear or feel guilty about. It’s one of my favorites,” She rambled on before pulling it up on the TV to start the song. As the song started, he listened to her singing along more than he did to the song itself and watched as she danced around the room. She held out her hands to him, he grabbed her hands, standing up and danced along with her.

Love isn’t greed it’s a need that goes unspoken/Love doesn't leave when you fade away/Pain isn't vain if it means your heart's been broken/Pain is the same as a means to heal

As the song came to an end, the two stopped their dancing and just stood in the middle of the room, hands still linked together. “What do you think? Did you like it?” She asked, a smile gracing her face.

“It was a beautiful song. I can see why it’s one of your favorites,” Steve replied genuinely. He watched as her smile widened causing his own smile to spread over his lips. 

“It reminds me of you, that’s why I wanted to show you the song.”

“Why does it remind you of me?”

“Because I know that you have a fear of loving someone and then hurting them unintentionally. But love is something everyone needs, it’s a basic need humans have and although you are superhuman, you are still a human. Just because you hurt Peggy unintentionally all those years ago doesn’t mean that it’ll happen again,” She explained to him, bringing a tear to Steve’s eye.

“It’s scary to love someone so deeply when I know they could get hurt or they can get a target put on their back because of who I am. I’m scared to admit that I love someone because I don’t want to see them hurt,” Steve told her, the tear falling down his cheek. She reached her hand up and gently wiped the tear away.

“It’s okay to be scared, Steve. You are only human and humans have fears. Tell me about this person you love, what makes you love them so much?”

“She’s wonderful, absolutely wonderful. She never sees me as Captain America, only Steve Rogers from Brooklyn. I can tell her anything without any judgment and she helps me understand things that used to confuse the crap out of me. She shows me songs about love and tells me they remind her of me. She told me that love is a basic human need and that it’s okay to be scared.”

“Steve-”

“It’s you that I love, Y/N. I’ve just been too scared to say something because I didn’t want you to get hurt or risk the potential of you getting hurt. You mean so much to me and the last thing I want to happen is-”

He was cut off by her lips meeting his, effectively shutting him up. He was quick to react, his hands cupping her cheeks and his lips moving in sync with hers. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, urging him to move his body closer, so he moved his hands down to rest on her lower back, pulling her body into his. Steve could’ve kept going all day but Y/N needed air so she reluctantly pulled away, panting as she rested her forehead against his. 

“I love you too, Steve. I wanted to jump in but you just kept talking so I kissed you. Was that too much?” She asked him breathlessly.

“It wasn’t too much. Shut me up like that more often, yeah?” He replied, causing her to let out a chuckle.

“You got it Cap.”

[fizzigigsimmer]

Bake Off: A Harringrove Sim Story

Chapter 4

Copperdale studios, early morning.

The commercial break ends and we're back with Nancy and her guest's Steve & Billy on the couch of her morning show.

Nancy: Welcome back! I'm Nancy Wheeler and this is 'Good Morning With Nancy'. Before the break my guests, the owners of Harringrove Cafe, revealed the first two teams in Copperdale's very first amateur baking competition. But there's one more team left to introduce. Steve, Billy, everyone is wondering who made the final cut!

For the first time Billy looks almost more excited than Steve.

Billy: Team 3 is the best team in my opinion. There's Robin Buckley, of Dirty Paws training center; who is a bit of a spazz yeah, but is actually pretty good in the kitchen. Although I still say it's weird she cooks in the same kitchen where she makes dog treats.

Steve: Hey! It's not like she doesn't wash everything in between.

Billy: Whatever you say. I don't know if I trust it. But I'd trust her partner Chrissy Cunningham with anything. She's like, my favorite person.

Steve pouts. He seems a tad jealous.

Steve: You can't have favorites Billy!

Billy: Oh please. Everyone knows Chrissy is my best friend. Best friend. Favorite. What's the difference?

Steve: Yeah but, people will think their team has an unfair advantage if you go around telling everyone that!

Nancy: Hmmm... but isn't Robin your best friend, Steve?

Steve: For the duration of the competition I have decided that I have no friends. I'm 100% impartial.

Billy rolls his eyes as Nancy laughs.

Nancy: Aren't you two banned from the Karaoke machine for life because you tried to sing that Toy Story song in Russian and wouldn't let anyone else have a turn?

Billy starts to giggle at the memory and Steve blushes.

Steve: Okay. Maybe it's a good thing the final vote is up to the public.

Nancy: Yes, I think so. But the question on my mind is how did you convince her to get involved with a very public show like this? Robin is known to be very camera shy.

Billy: Yeah, I've been wondering that too.

Steve: Well...

A few weeks earlier....

Steve walks through the park on a cloudy afternoon with his best friend Robin. With them 'Captain Roger' an excitable boxer breed that Robin is pet sitting for a client. Steve has been trying to convince Robin to participate in the Bake Off but Robin is reluctant. The idea of being on TV makes her too nervous.

Roger gets a scent in his nose and starts to run ahead. Steve notices a sign in the park reminding people to leash their pets.

Steve: Hey, is he okay off leash?

Robin: Of course. It's part of the training. I like this park because it's usually empty this time of day and we can work on heel and return commands without being disturbed too much.

Steve was never allowed to have pets growing up and is always very fascinated by Robin's work with animals. If only Billy weren't allergic.

Steve: He really comes back on command? That's so cool. What a good boi! You're a good boi aren't you Roger.

... In the studio

Billy: *sighs* You tried to pet it didn't you?

Steve: What! Why would you think that?

... back in the park

Steve goes to pet Roger, forgetting what Robin told him about Roger disliking people reaching for him suddenly. Robin cries for him to wait but it's too late. The fearful dog goes on the attack and Robin gets bit separating them.

Steve: Robin! You're bleeding.

Worse! Roger has run off. Along with Robin's paycheck and possibly the reputation of her business!!!

Steve: Lets get you to the doctor. Thank god the clinic is close.

Robin: Forget about me! Get the dog!! Roger! Roger here boy!

Steve: Stop, before you hurt yourself. I'll get him and meet you at the clinic.

Robin: Are you sure? What if he tries to bite you again.

Steve: That was my fault before. I won't forget to go slow this time. Just trust me, alright?

Robin: I trust you. You better find him Dingus!

Later at Copperdale Health Clinic ...

Robin sits on an exam bed while nurse Chrissy cleans her wounds and wraps them to keep them from getting infected.

Chrissy: There. You're all done, Robin.

Robin: That wasn't so bad.

Chrissy: It's a good thing you didn't need any stitches. But what's wrong, Robin? You look upset.

Worried, Robin gets up and begins to pace.

Robin: I'm worried about Steve. I mean he's a complete dingus for forgetting Roger is people shy, but I still don't want him to become a chew toy. He's probably puppy chow by now.

Chrissy: I'm sure he's fine Robin. Steve's always come through for you before hasn't he?

Robin: *sigh* That's true I guess.

DING. Over the sounds of the busy clinic an elevator arrives down the hall.

Chrissy: Robin look!

It's Steve, and trotting happily at his side is Roger. Robin isn't going to have to explain things to his owners after all.

Steve: You owe me big Robin.

Robin: Oh as if! This was all your fault to begin with. If anything I owe Chrissy. She's the one who patched me up and kept me from worrying about your stupid ass.

Steve and Chrissy share a look and Chrissy's smile turns just a little bit evil.

Chrissy: True. And I know exactly how you can repay me.

... Back in the studio

Billy: If I didn't know better I'd accuse you of blackmail. Did you two plan that whole thing?

Steve: Slander. I would never put someone in harms way just to achieve my goals Billy.

Billy: Yeah you would. Does Christmas of 86 ring a bell?

Steve: That was an accident! How was I supposed to know a moose was that dangerous?!

Nancy has heard this story so many times. Desperate to save her show before it can devolve into another retelling she jumps in.

Nancy: Let's meet the teams, why don't we?! Joining us on the stage this morning is team #1 Max Mayfield and El Hopper! Give it up for team one.

The audience cheers as Max & El walk out from backstage.

El: Thank you for having us!

Max: Yes. And that moose thing was half your fault Billy. I told you not to feed it peanut butter!

Billy: It was a baby Max! Was I supposed to let it starve?

Nancy: *raising her voice* Argyle Beachem and Eddie Munson of 2nd Grove, everybody. Come on out Team Two!

The crowd roars as Eddie and Argyle appear, waving to the crowd and posing for the flashing of lights as Eddie's fans start to rapidly take pictures. Laughing Argyle poses beside him and encourages them to get his good side.

Nancy: *smiling* And last but never least, give it up for Chrissy Cunningham and Robin Buckley. Our Team Three!

Nancy: That's all the time we have today folks. Tune in next week as we kick off The Harringrove Cafe: Amateur Bake Off, and watch these six talented competitors compete for the crown of Copperdale's most talented amateur baking duo! I'm Nancy Wheeler and this has been, Good Morning With Nancy!

The end...

This marks the end of the completed chapters. I will share some stills from the baking competition because they're super cute, but sadly I don't have time to finish the story. Thanks for joining me on the ride and I hope y'all had a good time!

[diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic]

Soon You'll Get Better [Steve Rogers x F!Reader]

Part 1 of My Lover Celebration in honour of the queen, Taylor Swift

Summary :- “You'll get better, you have to”

Warnings :- I don't think i understood the right meaning of this song lol, nurse!reader, Steve is 6'4, kinda angst, insecure!reader, pov's keep switching, it's not good but i tried ig, sudden confessions.

Dividers by :- @firefly-graphics

“The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair

In doctor's-office-lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared

That was the first time we were there

Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you

Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too”

Captain America was rushed in the hospital wing of the Avengers Compound after a rough mission as Y/n, Dr. Banner's assistant, rushed to him. She analysed him and looked after him till he got better. She'll never admit it but she had a little crush on the handsome 6'4 super soldier.

“I know delusion when I see it in the mirror

You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal

I just pretend it isn't real

I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky

I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try”

She knew that he would never love someone like her. Why would anyone? He did try to sweet talk her in his rough voice and it did work, but she'll never admit it. She'll never admit her feelings to him. She knew that he liked those other hot nurses that flirted with him whenever she was gone. Her feelings for him were the secrets she'll never tell anyone. Or so she thought.

“And I hate to make this all about me

But who am I supposed to talk to?

What am I supposed to do

If there's no you?”

“So you like him, he's your patient, he obviously likes you back but you're still crying about him?”, Wanda said as she softly rubbed your back. You nodded, still sniffling. Admit your feelings to him, love. She said that just like everyone else. But she would never do that.

“This won't go back to normal, if it ever was

It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because

'Cause I have to”

“Sweetheart, I'm all better now. I was hoping if I could start going back on missions”, Steve asked you as he looked at you hopefully. You nodded. “Of course, Steve”, you said. You had your back turned to him as you wrote about something. He grabbed your arm and turned you around so that you were chest-to-chest. “Love, you wanna know something?”, he said in a low voice. “Y-yeah?”, you asked him, your voice barely audible to your ears. “I love you”, he whispered in your ear before tucking a strand of your hair behind it. Your whole face was red. “Y-you do?”, you stuttered. He nodded before pouring all his emotions into your first kiss.

"Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better

Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better

Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon

'Cause you have to”

[robotskilledmygrandma]

A lil guide for anyone looking for some fanfiction, my art and some AI art

MY ART ❤️

Marvel Fanfiction

What Should We Name Her?

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Who knew that Bucky’s undoing would have eight legs?

Damsels In Distress: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Summary: Bucky and Steve don’t usually get captured, but their missions don’t usually involve zombies. Now he has to deal with the fact that the emergency alarm went out to not only the team, but to you, his girlfriend. This is not the way to a girl’s heart.

Hogwarts Legacy

Hogwarts Legacy AI Art :)

AI Art

WIP (that I have probably abandoned but were cool ideas) Let me know if you want me to complete them, hold me accountable!

MARVEL

Bucky X Reader

#1: After losing his arm in a car accident, Bucky Barnes struggles with every day tasks but after already having some hired help, he refuses to get more. Natasha however, isn't having any of it and goes out of her way to hire him a private chef.

#2: I don't like tea and other lies Bucky tells himself.

Bucky wakes up in a strangers house after passing out on their doorstep after a particularly bad fight. He is resistant to their help but this stranger isn't having it and takes it upon themselves to get his stubborn ass back to the Avengers Tower

#3: This is not a safehouse.

The mission goes horridly wrong to no-one's surprise and the safehouse is destroyed. Steve and Bucky follow Natasha to another safehouse, except that it's not and now it's time to meet Natasha's "old friend".

#4: Lessons in apologies and being a disaster by Bucky Barnes

Being a superhero is hard and Bucky can't catch a break, he's just trying to get by and start enjoying his life. But a tense encounter with a person he mistakes as a reporter makes his relationship with his new neighbour all the more strenuous that it has to be. It's Sam to the rescue.

#5 An egg for a brain. (I fucking love this one and do intend to continue it.)

Bucky is well versed with Murphy's Law but this is one of those times he thinks the world is just out to get him. An accident causes Bucky to lose all his memories except for those from before World War 2. Steve is the only person he knows, he's lost in a modern world that he dreamt of living in, is struggling with the fact he can't remember shit about who he is (everyone is quick to chime in though) and to top it off, he can't seem to face the woman he fell in love with.

#6: A Serious Problem

It's Tuesday and portals open above New York. Again. The first on the scene is not the Avengers or even any of the other local crime-fighting vigilantes. The first person appears seemingly out of nowhere, brandishing rebar and a fiery attitude. Of all people, it's Spider-Man who they say hi to while sprinting past covered in alien blood.

Stucky - Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (my beloved ship omg)

#1: Shit My Soulmate Listens To (The story of how Steve Rogers loses his mind, just a little. (Another one I intend to finish cos it's gonna be so good).

It's not that Steve is a snob. Really, he isn't. It's just that he has good taste. And his Soulmate certainly does not. And he swears if he has to hear the same damn song one more time, he's going to punch someone.

#2 Becoming (My post-endgame somewhat fix-it that finally tackles the abandonment of Bucky by Steve).

This is a story about heartbreak, grief, healing and self-discovery. Bucky knew that Steve wasn't returning after he put the stones back, but that didn't stop it from it hitting him like a truck. He takes a break from being a superhero, learns to be Bucky Barnes again and learns that some endings are actually beginnings.

#3: Doom. Or how Bucky Barnes got fucked over, lost an arm, went to Hell and came back laughing. (A Marvel and Doom video game crossover)

Bucky Barnes has been imprisoned on the Mars UAC facility after defying his CO. He's not imprisoned though, he's a fucking test subject for a squirrely scientist named Arnim Zola whose didn't stop to think about the consequences of messing with Argent energy. After a mysterious explosion destroys the facility and leads to the worst infestation known to man, SHIELD sends the Avengers, a Rapid Response Tactical Squad led by Steve Rogers to gather intel and lock down the facility.

#4: A roommate AU

Bucky responds to Steve's ad for a new roommate. It turns out food isn't just good for the soul but a fast track to the heart of the hottest man Bucky has ever met.

#5: Atlas Shrugged

All eyes are on Steve who frankly does not give a shit. His eyes instead are on the shield, the gaudy thing they insist is his and expect him to pick back up again even thought he doesn't remember a thing about why he picked it up in the first place. Bucky says it was because he's an idiot and never knows what's good for him. But Bucky is the only one who is against him picking it up again.

"It's not your job." Bucky had said one night when they both couldn't sleep. His metal hand nursing the bottle of Vodka while he looked downright miserable.

Undecided Ship

#1: A Marvel and Fallout crossover, staring all the Avengers but my main man, Bucky Barnes

The second the platform stops moving, Bucky’s knees buckle and he drops to the ground hard and grasps at his chest. Just like the platform, his breathing has all but stopped, panic setting in.

He gasps and gulps and tears flow quick. In all his years he has never felt desperation and grief as he does right now. All he hears are his own choked sobs on top of the silent hill and it scares him how silent everything is. Anywhere he looks there are signs of death and destruction despite the regrowing nature. Skeletons litter the ground, all the families he had passed on his way to the Vault all those years ago, and all the workers, even the Vault-Tec guy.

Instead of standing, Bucky scrambles over to the dirt around the platform, searching desperately for any signs of footprints, of life.

There are none.

[clochanamarc]

she isn't entirely sure what you might call it. sure, it could be a date. two people going out to a party with some flirtations and affectionate gestures to pave the way. he's dressed impeccably, and she thinks she went through about fifty dresses before settling on the first one she tried on, all because of the paparazzi. right? it's still believable that 100% of her dedication was due to the cameras, right? but still... a new years party with jokes shared over glasses of sparkling apple cider, hands brushing against one another, dancing with the crowds, grinning over an inside anecdote that nobody else would find remotely amusing... it's difficult to know what category this evening falls under. date? platonic date? plus one? emotional support?

she's just sitting by the bar, hair wild and frizzy after a dance someone taught them from the 40's ( " or was it 50's? rogers can tell us, hey? " ) when he arrives by her elbow, coats collected, an earnest smile on his face as he makes the gentle suggestion that spares her the guilt of using advik's flu as an excuse to flee the oncoming wave of reporters.

@peacereflected asked: let me walk you to your car. ( from steve ) / FIRST DATE PROMPTS. ( ACCEPTING! )

" my hero. " she has a hand curled around the collar of her jacket, giving his hand a grateful squeeze as she steps down and across the marble floor. the truth, she allows herself to accept, is that she wouldn't have gone to this party had anyone other than steve asked. between advik being under the weather, and ajay's letters becoming more ominous by the minute... the universe had sent her no shortage of warning signs. so leave it to steve's invitation, and tina's sage advice to embrace the good times while she still could, to give her a moment of levity.

even now, as they step through fresh fallen snow and over to the parking lot, she clings to it a little more. folds the details in her mind. the scent of his cologne, the way his eyes crinkle as they relive the last few hours, the way she could easily slip in the snow, but his presence keeps such potentials at bay. she doesn't want to lose this. to forget a single fragment of tonight would be a crime. she still has a cheesy polaroid taken of the two of them, placed safely in her jacket lining, and taps it gently with her thumb once they get to her car.

" thank you for tonight. seriously. i think... i enjoy the normal everyday stuff so much, i forget there's more to life than working and laundry. we... " she says it, in spite of the anxiety, and largely because of their paths in life. why save the world? why fight every day? why face the wrath of the world in the effort to save them? it's never been clearer: for nights like tonight, when steve's smile could melt the snow and drag summer into the birth of january with no effort at all, and when his laughter still settles in her mind like a song worth remembering. " we should do it again. i think there's some charity gala on the sixteenth, but if the food tonight is anything to go by, we better eat first! maybe you could drop by the diner and we'll have supper before we leave? if you're not busy, that is. "

[nyxelestia]

7, 11, 18

(from this "get to know your writer" meme)

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

I have a soft spot for outsider POVs, so I usually aim for a POV of someone who isn't at the center of the story, but is still very close to it (ideally having their own story that in some way contrasts or complements the actual main story). I also enjoy using multiple POVs, mostly outsider POVs, to "triangulate" a story without relying on the main character of the story to tell it all themselves.

It started out as a way to challenge myself, because I was prone to over-relying on introspection and characters thinking about things. Using outsider POVs became a way of pushing myself to "show" rather than "tell" a lot more. Then I realized I enjoyed outsider POVs for opportunity of "color commentary" on whatever's going on, how different perspectives or biases might shape people's understanding of a certain character or story, and generally exploring different understandings of what is or isn't going on.

Outsider POVs also make it easy to focus in on one part of the/a main character's arc by zeroing in on it and excluding the rest. In a way, it lets me highlight the "real" story when I get to temporarily remove or cover up a plot that obfuscates the underlying relationships and emotions. (e.x. I have a Captain America/Teen Wolf AU in which Steve Rogers sees a lot of the Teen Wolf canon events, but without knowing about the existence of werewolves just yet. It let me focus on the teen characters' trauma and character growths before all the supernatural stuff started cluttering up the fic 😅)

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

Aaahhhh this one's so hard 🥺😩 And slightly confusing because I'm not sure if it means three favorites out of my own fics, or in general/other people's fics? How can I pick only 3?? I've read and written so many, do I even try to narrow down by fandom or year or something???

Setting aside the fact that I don't really do favorites in the first place, I'm going to feel self-conscious about all the fics I didn't pick if I try to link to three fics by other authors, so I'll by my top three out of my own fics:

1.) Frost Bite - the aforementioned Captain America/Teen Wolf crossover. Stiles is Bucky's grand-nephew (Bucky's sister's grandson), and the closest thing to a living relative Steve has in the 21st century.

2.) For the Dust and the Dirt - time-travel Untamed fic, though none of the characters know it yet. Cloud Recesses student Wei Wuxian was attacked and tortured by what looks like a crazy, old, and powerful copy of himself, for no good reason. Though the attack has left a lot of people sympathetic to him...and left him with strange "visions" about things that haven't happened yet.

3.) Virtues, Chicken, and Destiny - technically a series, a rewrite of Season 4 of the BBC show Merlin. It started out as an off the cuff frustration with the the show's writing, but turned into a lot of character exploration of Arthur, as well as the nature of friendships, trust, and Arthur's various relationships with the people around him.

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

After. Sometimes I don't come up with a title until I'm staring at the New Work form on AO3. 😅 I generally have one of two titles:

1.) A reference of some kind, quoting something either from the canon work itself, another classical/famous work altogether, or a song (though I rarely use whole lines if I'm using song lyrics). Regardless, I still use the words as a title (i.e. capitalizing everything), and try to pick titles that would still make sense or have some connection to my fic even if you've never heard that song or whatever, aka a lyric clip or title that can stand on its own (but will convey extra vibes to anyone who does know the song or reference). In that regard, I usually try to pick titles with some kind of imagery in them that acts as an allegory for the story somehow. e.x. "Drowning Like a Stone" is both a quote from the English version of Why Don't You Stay, but also describes Chay: he is a stone for much of the fic due to trauma/depression, and sinking fast and hard into his new life.

2.) Something that works with the chapter titles, typically in some thematically relevant way. One of the reasons I'm proud of Frost Bite is that the chapter titles are also the steps for treating Frost Bite - Steve's emotional state is frost bitten, the story is about his psychological recovery, and the chapter titles are usually a metaphor in some way for his emotional development or experience in that chapter (e.x. "Skin Will Blister As It Thaws" - a frost bitten limb needs to thaw but will hurt in the process, and similarly recovering and reconnecting is something Steve needs to do, but not without emotional pain in the process).

3.) A bit of both. "To Belong With Fire" is indirectly quoting Kinn from the show, but the chapter titles are the different chemical stages for the production of fire, and metaphorical for what's going on in those chapters, e.x. "Fuel" is both Porsche's body being 'fuel' for fire, but also Kinn being fueled by grief in his desperate actions. I picked the song that "For the Dust and the Dirt" quotes from because it conveys the arbitrariness and hopelessness of grief, surviving war, and lost dreams, but those specific words/that specific line was because of the usage of dust and dirt in the fic's inciting incident; the chapter titles are just POVs, but sometimes it's singular (if the whole chapter is one character), but otherwise it's thematic (such as the chapter titled "Zongzhu", which was various sect leaders' POVs, both to show the cultivation worlds' varying reactions and attitudes about what happened, but also show parts of the story that I want the reader to know but the main character would have no way of knowing).