#today on: something steve is unexpectedly good at because i said so

[remnostrum]

maybe Steve likes Dungeons & Dragons

I have an unfinished 20k+-word Steddie one shot sitting in my drafts from two years ago that I never touched since then because, well, it has an Original Character inserted in it and she's prominent in the story for the two to get together. I didn't know if people would be interested and I didn't get enough time to finish writing it. Maybe I got a little too into making their character sheets as well.

Anyway. Here's a rundown of the plot. Let me know if it's something you'd one day want to read.

It's a Steddie classic: It happens post-Vecna, in an Everyone Lives canon divergence, where they're focusing on high school life and playing Dungeons & Dragons. He grew closer with Eddie, having been one of the only dudes of his age group that understands him. Plus, the guy needs some company after what the town put him through. Didn't do any good to his damn thoughts though.

Steve's having a crisis, both sexually and life-wise, and is going on a bit of soul-searching. He ends up at a 24/7 diner a few minutes out of town, meets this girl working there as a waitress who happens to be an old classmate that never got out of Hawkins after graduation. He finds out she's a nerd, knew Eddie, and had a few inspirational things to say about life. She understood his feelings of not knowing where to place himself; of losing purpose and trying to find that for himself.

Robin is busy grabbing her diploma and preparing for college, and so it leaves him with this other girl who has no interest in him romantically and yet indulges his inner thoughts. They become close friends and she introduces him to D&D with a group of other folks his age that she usually plays with.

He has fun. He understands the joy of playing it and, for the first time, his brain is stimulated in a way that does not require a physical-type of adrenaline. He's using his brain to actively get out of situations, and he learns that what wit he has and the massive charm he already possesses was incredibly useful in a fictional setting. A bonus was getting to flirt with every waking being without punishment. In some ways, it was an exploration.

D&D isn't so bad. But he hasn't told Dustin or Eddie or Robin or any of the others. For once, he is doing something parallel to them that he is enjoying for himself. And not because they asked him to do it with them.

One day, it all comes out. She leaves a set of dice in his car when he took her back to her place after a six-hour session. Steve is hanging out with Eddie, the rest of the older teens, and The Party at a park when she suddenly shows up asking for her dice. They learn he's been "cheating" on them, playing as a paladin for a few months in someone else's campaign. They didn't know that he understood every single ability check and attack roll they've been throwing on the damn table since some time ago.

They rope him into playing a game as payment for his betrayal. But he's too shy, even with the encouragement of Eddie, because roleplay was different when the man he's been eyeing is the Dungeon Master himself. So, he refuses.

Dustin tracks her down. He invites her for a game as a guest player. She accepts, only with the condition of having Steve there to play with her.

Forced, Steve ends up at the table with a joint character sheet with her. They're playing a Victorian-esque, Gomez-and-Morticia, couple named Lord Alistair and Lady Freya Crowsong. He's a Warlock and she's a Wizard (that was secretly his patron). I'm using D&D 5E rules, just because it'd be entertaining and it's fanfiction lol. They roleplay it as a fancy couple devoted to one another in ways that are less romantic and more codependent for survival. The Party are entranced by the narrative which don't happen as hugely for them as most of their games were combat-focused. They wanted to know everything. They also thought that it works because Steve was dating her. He wasn't.

Steve is having fun teasing them. He's not quite sure yet what Eddie thinks, but he's kept a smile on his face and that's enough for him.

Here's the big event. Eddie and the new girl mention a LARP/RenFaire event happening a couple of hours away out of Hawkins. They explain what it is, and show photographs where they can of them meeting folks in various costumes. The kids want to go, as there's a huge Magistrate's Ball happening in one of the big farmhouses it's being hosted. They want to interact with other people using their characters and, specifically, Dustin wants to See Steve as Lord Alistair Crowsong.

He feels a little embarrassed. He says a flat-out no before the girl tries to bribe him to do it. That doesn't work either. Finally, Eddie says he'll show up in costume as Steve's favorite NPC--a handsome young bard that Lord Alistair met at a tavern named Elisor. He was Steve's favorite to flirt with, and most of his romantic intentions for Eddie was directed through this NPC.

He flashbacks to the description of the bard, imagines Eddie wearing the same outfit, and suddenly he said yes.

A month goes by and they're all ready to go. Their costumes are packed, as well as their gear, and Steve, Eddie, and Nancy are ready to ride out to a different city to let the kids experience a whole other breadth of nerdiness.

They have fun. The kids learn what it's like being around people like them, and they get to do different kinds of activities while in character. They watch bard concerts, play farm games, and even watch a bunch of fights at the makeshift coliseum. Steve, for the first two days, isn't Lord Alistair. He's his paladin character because it was easier for him to be someone similar to himself for an entire day.

The last night at the faire, the Magistrate's Ball happens. The kids and other people go first because Steve was strapped to his chair and forcefully had makeup put onto his face. They arrive some minutes late, but he's in his hand-sewn Victorian suit with a makeshift crow-headed cane and his fictional wife at his arm.

He's practically red on the face, if not the pale powder that she put on him, as he interacts with people in that same regal tone he usually speaks in as Lord Alistair. People flock them, asking questions about their "kingdom" and their fictional dead child. The Party swarms them eventually, teasing but mostly in awe, as the two of them kept their airs around everyone.

Then, the crowd parts way. Steve tunnel-visions when he spots Eddie by the punch bowl with a lute in his arms and a goblet at hand. He has his chest out in a white tunic and an open deep purple vest, smirking at a random ball-goer and talking. When their eyes meet, everything falls silent and suddenly, Steve forgets to breathe.

New girl pushes him to his direction, in the guise of "get your wife a drink" before disappearing into the crowd to find Robin.

Then, we switch to Eddie's POV. Who is not only smitten, but he's been glowing with jealousy since he found out he wasn't Steve's first Dungeon Master.

[sleepypanda27]

A Fucking Sunshine

Bucky x reader

Summary: You are in a good mood, and also, you're a bit annoying.

Words: 824

You were in a good mood. Good fucking mood. You didn't know why. It was just one of those days, so you enjoyed it and went with the flow. Of course you had to annoy at least few people today.

“Will you share with the cake?” You asked with an angelic smile and innocent eyes.

Without even thinking about it, Sam said, “No.”

“BUT Sam!” You chuckled, a bit frustrated. “That's a lot of cake for just you.”

“Nah, it's my cake.” He lovingly glanced at the container with cake in his hands. His brows furrowed, noticing your fingers creeping on the container. “Paws off! Get your own cake.” Gently slapping them, he strode off to place it in the fridge.

“What's his deal?” Bucky asked, leaning against a wall, arms crossing over his chest.

“Sam bought a cake that he doesn't want to share.” You chuckled.

Bucky raised a brow, staring at you. “Why are you so cheerful today?”

“I don't know.” You beamed at him. “Just a good mood, that's all, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Ahh, you know what we should do?” You asked excitedly.

“What?” Bucky looked at you warily.

“We should do something with your hair, like braid it or something.” You though out loud, getting more excited about the idea. It wasn't that long, but it didn't stop you from trying.

“Hard pass.” He grimaced, trying to get away from you.

That didn't slide with you. After annoying him for awhile, and not letting him run away, he had enough. Unexpectedly Bucky made a move to a side, slipping past you. While doing so, he slapped your ass, causing your eyes to widen in shock. Even he himself didn't know why he did it just felt like a good opportunity He had never done that before, but you had to admit, you kind of, liked that.

Giggling, you took a step closer to Bucky, and looking him straight in the eyes, you attempted to do the same to him, but of course he being what he is, he captured your attacking hands easily. “Yeah, no.” he chuckled heartily, gently holding your wrists. “That's not gonna happen, Doll.”

“But Bucky, it would be only fair.” You whined.

“Nope.” He slowly released your hands. “Behave,” He added. “Be good.”

As soon as he let go assuming you wouldn't do anything, you quickly slapped his ass. That was a nice slap. It even sounded good.

You laughed even if it wasn't that funny. Bucky just stared at you, shocked, with mouth agape.

He blinked a couple of times, processing what just happened and then his eyes visibility darkened by a shade. You knew. You were in trouble. Big trouble.

“It's on.” He whispered, smirking. “Come here!”

You shrieked as he was about to get you, dashing to the bedroom accommodations. Seeking salvation in your room. “NO!” You yelled through laughing. “Bucky, no!”

You almost got to your room when you felt a heavy arm wrap around your waist and pull you against hard chest. A small moan escaped your throat. Rather, spicy sounding one, in fact. His other palm softly pressed against your mouth. “Be quiet,” he ordered, whispering in your ear. Shivers run down your spine in excitement. “Although I liked the sound you made, but Steve is sleeping. He had a long day no need to wake him up.” Suddenly you were feeling hot. Did someone turned up the heating?

His order was understandable, because your rooms where almost next to each other. Nodding, you made him understand that you would be quiet, so he removed the hand that covered your mouth. Buckys scent engulfed you. As you turned around in his arms that held you firmly, without even thinking of letting you go anywhere, you noted that he was using the cologne you got him for his birthday. Once again, a stupid grin was plastered on your face.

“A fucking Sunshine.” Bucky chuckled at the lovely sight. The girl he likes in his arms, happier than a clam. What could be better than this? He loved seeing you like this - happy and without a care in the world.

Taking in the consideration everything that happened not even five minutes ago, he knew, he couldn't let this opportunity go. So he kissed you. You kissed him back, freeing one hand, tangling it into his hair, tugging softly. Small growl escaped his lips, and you had to smile again.

“We should do this more often.” Bucky chuckled, running his fingertips over your cheek.

“I agree.” You smiled. “I liked it.”

“Good,” He was still holding you, but now his hand had traveled lower, holding your backside. “Me too.” He wiggled his brows, squeezing your bottom softly. But before you could say something in protest, he took your hand. “Come on, let's steal some of Sam's cake. I will distract him while you take couple of pieces.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

i have another hc for you if you like! this is one of my faves ever since i saw someone call wayne "tio shaped" 😆: Eddie being at least partially hispanic/latinx (i lean toward hispanic) and being fluent in spanish; i LOVE the idea of him either sweet talking or just saying the absolute filthiest stuff to steve in spanish and steve gets robin to help him learn spanish in secret (just for a bit at least) so he can know what eddie’s been saying to him

(i wrote a little drabble of this idea before here, but i would love to see your take on it too!!!!)

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL GO READ NOELLE'S POST BECAUSE IT'S GREAT WORK 10/10.

Second of all, I don't know more than the most basic Spanish. I am relying on Google Translate, which we all know is not reliable. If something sticks out as being completely wrong, please let me know.

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

"Okay, that's good!"

"Robin, you don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," Steve said, but hid the blush on his cheeks at the praise.

"Eddie estará tan impresionado," she said with a knowing smirk.

"Eso espero."

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

Robin left him with some study cards to practice being less formal with his Spanish, told him that Eddie and Wayne were used to conversational and familiar vocabulary and grammar. The last thing she wanted was for him to sound like he was reading from a textbook.

So he sat on his couch, studying, probably more than he ever studied for anything else in his life.

He needed to do this right.

He jumped when the front door opened unexpectedly, shoving his study cards between the cushions and hoping whoever it was wouldn't notice the corner of one sticking out.

"Dios, cómo te ves tan bien sentado ahí?" Eddie said mostly under his breath.

But Steve heard it.

He didn't just hear it, he mostly understood it.

"Sólo estoy usando sudaderas," Steve replied, much easier than he expected to.

Eddie's eyes got impossibly wider, his mouth opening in shock.

"Did you just speak Spanish?" Eddie asked.

"Sí."

"How-" Eddie cleared his throat. "How long have you known Spanish?"

"Not long. Robin's been teaching me," Steve shrugged.

"But like...how long?" Eddie seemed nervous, avoiding eye contact completely.

"If you're worried about things you've been saying, I still don't know enough to figure most of what I can kind of remember out," Steve said.

That was true, too. He barely remembered most of what Eddie had been saying over the last few months, definitely couldn't get the pronunciation right anyway to ask Robin and only some of the words had come up in their lessons.

But what he said today, at least a lot of it, was clear to Steve and that made him feel pretty confident that he'd been reading Eddie's feelings correctly.

"Lo decias en serio?" Steve asked, stuttering a bit with nerves.

"Por supuesto."

"Um. Beso?" Steve knew that wasn't right, but his brain wasn't firing on all cylinders.

"Claro, puedo besarte, cariño."

Steve let out a whimper when Eddie pulled him to his feet, cupped the back of his neck in his hand, and licked into his mouth like he'd been waiting years for this moment.

"You've been learning Spanish for me?" Eddie asked breathlessly when he finally managed to pull away.

"I'm trying. For you and Wayne."

Translations: Eddie estará tan impresionado - Eddie will be so impressed Eso espero - I hope so Dios, cómo te ves tan bien sentado ahí? - God, how do you look so good just sitting there? Sólo estoy usando sudaderas. - I'm just wearing sweats Lo decias en serio? - Did you mean it? Por supuesto. - Of course Beso - Kiss Claro, puedo besarte, cariño. - Sure, I can kiss you, sweetheart

[camaro-and-smokes]

A Shot For Life

A Harringrove fic by Suometar / camaro-and-smokes

Chapter 5: You walked in (caught my eye)

Warnings: No warnings for this chapter Tags: Did I mention this is kinda slowburn? This is kinda slowburn.

Summary: Suddenly, Steve realized that he had taken several steps behind without taking a shot. Billy was still following him, but Steve could see him trying to hold back a smile. “Great work,” Steve said. “I think we’re all getting a bit tired,” he continued, amused. The smile Billy flashed at this told Steve that he had definitely noticed.

Read on AO3 »

::::::::::

When Billy arrived at the set on the beach in the morning, he saw the crew in full work mode. “Oh shit, am I late?”

“No,” Steve replied behind him. “They’re just eager to finish today on time because tomorrow we go to Dean’s Blue Hole.”

Billy turned to look at him and couldn’t help but to let out a laugh. “Go where?”

Steve smirked as he walked by the tables set on the beach and began to unpack his camera bag. “It’s a sinkhole, a famous diving place on the island we’re going to shoot tomorrow. Bluest water you’ve ever seen and amazing cliffs surrounding it—perfect for stunning photos. Most of the team wants to go diving there. So, we finish early here, we get to be early there tomorrow and they get their dip once we’re done.”

Billy looked at Steve, his eyebrow raised. “You won’t join them?”

“Oh, god, no!” he exclaimed as he checked through his camera. “I don’t enjoy the idea of being submerged and inside a cave. I prefer keeping my feet on the ground.”

Robin had followed them to the table, and when Steve took his camera and went to talk with Gavin, she nudged Billy’s arm. “It’s not that he has any safer hobbies. He just prefers a different kind of excitement,” she said, gesturing to Steve. “Fast cars.”

Billy looked at Robin, trying to figure out why she told him this information. “Does he own one?”

“He has a Mercedes something something something, capital letters, can’t remember. It’s fast. He usually drives us whenever we go somewhere work related if it’s close by to New York,” she said, smiling, “And he takes it out for something he calls track days.”

“That’s funny,” Billy said, smiling. He hadn’t expected to have even more in common with Harrington than just the obvious.

Robin looked at him, curious. “How so?”

“I have a thing for fast cars, too. I own a vintage one myself.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

“Oh, yeah. There’s nothing better than hearing the roar of the engine on a sunny day.”

“That sounds exactly something he’d say,” she replied, smiling.

“Is he any good? Driver, I mean,” Billy asked, eager about this new nugget of information he was unexpectedly served with.

Robin placed her hand on Billy’s arm and shook her head apologetically. “Oh, I wouldn’t know. I don’t even have a driver’s license. But he’s gotten us safely everywhere, so I assume he is.” Her smile widened. “Ask about it and he’ll talk about it for the rest of the day,” she said, taking her bag and walking to Steve.

.

Billy looked after her for a while before walking to the stylist for his first outfit. It wasn’t a surprise that someone like Steve had an expensive hobby. But finding out that they both were gearheads…what a funny coincidence. He noticed himself thinking about the possible scenarios where he could ask about it from Steve, just for the sake of talking about something other than work. To maybe get to know him better.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, get a grip Hargrove , he reminded himself. You’re just a fan. He’s seen people like you come and go. There’s no way he’s interested in you that way.

+ + +

The day progressed very much as the previous one did. Change of clothes for Billy, doing his own thing under Steve’s guidance, checking the photos, and repeat. And throughout the day, there was that same undercurrent that flowed from one side of the camera to the other.

Finally, the golden hour cast a warm glow over the beach and waves gently lapped at the shore, providing a rhythm for the photoshoot.

“Let’s try something before we end,” Steve announced. “Take a walk along the waterline. I want to take a few shots of you and the waves in motion.”

Billy obliged and walked to the wet sand and stopped to wait for the waves to reach him. He smiled as he remembered the first time he went to the sea with his board. He must’ve been only five, but the memory remained as clear as it was back then.

“Hold that!” Steve called out.

Billy hadn’t been prepared for Steve to take a shot yet, but apparently he didn’t wait when he saw something worth capturing. Billy turned to look at Steve and, letting his work facade slip a little with a smile, he kicked his shoes away and walked into the waves up to his ankles. He knew he wasn’t supposed to dirty the clothes, but hearing Steve let out a laugh ensured to him that what he was doing was okay.

.

Steve followed Billy close to the waterline and kept taking burst shots as Billy walked towards him. Billy followed his guidance but kept making small twists to his poses Steve couldn’t quite foresee; kicking the water and making fat droplets fly in the air, reaching down to the water with his other hand and flicking it in Steve's direction, or stepping right out of wave’s reach and then following them back towards the sea.

He didn’t like all the ideas, but some were brave, something models rarely had the guts to do in front of his camera. And he gladly allowed Billy the freedom because…well, working with him was surprisingly easy, even more so today. The vision from Steve’s head came alive in Billy’s movements and in his expression, and left Steve just the task of catching it all with his camera.

Suddenly, Steve realized that he had taken several steps behind without taking a shot. Billy was still following him, but Steve could see him trying to hold back a smile. “Great work,” Steve said. “I think we’re all getting a bit tired,” he continued, amused.

The smile Billy flashed at this told Steve that he had definitely noticed.

.

The crew started to disassemble the set and Robin came to pack Steve’s gear away while he transferred the photos from the camera to his laptop.

“So, what’s it like working with a rising star?” she asked nonchalantly.

Steve glanced at her, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His gaze then returned to the laptop. “He’s extraordinary. I haven’t seen a talent like that in a while.”

“It sure takes talent to make you forget to take photos while looking through your lens,” she teased.

Steve snorted. “He noticed it too.”

Robin chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure no one else did.” Then her tone softened. “Haven’t seen you blunder like that before.”

Steve felt his cheeks heating, so he turned his reply to sarcasm. “Well, yes, it’s a surprise to me too that I make mistakes.” Robin said nothing and Steve felt her gaze burning his temple, so he looked at her and saw her looking at him with a soft smile. “What?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, but…You’ve been different the last two days. I’ve known you for ten years and…you have this totally different glint in your eyes.”

“I knew you were observant, but I didn’t know you were obsessively so,” Steve said, amused.

She laughed before her expression changed just a little to a more serious one. “I don’t know if this even needs saying…”

Steve knew what she would say and shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“There’s no harm in looking, though,” Robin said, nudging him.

“Yeah…” Steve said and returned his attention to the laptop.

Robin was right, as always. Just two people working together extremely well could make you feel things that weren’t based on anything but the synergy. But Steve just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something between him and Billy, something…more.

+ + +

As the last of the crew members left the beach, Billy lingered behind, unable to shake off the vibes that coursed through him through the last two days. He couldn’t believe how fast he and Steve had found a working connection. It was as if they had been working together for a long time. And as he replayed their interactions in his mind, a sense of curiosity grew within him.

He looked back at Steve and Robin, who were still busy packing up Steve’s equipment. Billy had never met someone like Steve before. Not anyone as talented or as…handsome.

Shaking his head in order to get the thoughts go away, he turned to walk towards the hotel when someone called after him. When he turned, he saw Robin walking towards him, a small smile on her lips.

“So, how has it been for you? Being the prime target of interest for Steve’s lens?” she asked as they walked.

Billy couldn’t help but smile. “Amazing. Surprisingly easy. He deserves all the accolades he’s ever been given.”

“You’re not the only one who’s been working with him for a day and says that,” she said with a wide smile. “I even still feel like that and I’ve worked with him for ten years.”

“How is he? I mean, outside work?” Billy heard himself asking. He felt his heartbeat pick up speed a notch at the realization he was taking a step into territory that actually wasn’t any business of his.

“He’s just…Steve,” she said, glancing at him. “Like anyone else, there’s nothing remarkable in a way that would make him any different. In fact, he hates being put on a pedestal. He just wants to be himself. Just like anyone else who’s actually done something to be in his position and who’s not actively seeking the attention.” She paused, and for a while the only sound was their steps echoing on the quiet street. “He’s…great. Genuine. A good friend. A good person. Nothing like the rumors that are doing rounds. They were started by someone that hurt him a while back, just to keep hurting him.”

Billy pondered this information for a while. He’d been wondering if the reason for the rumors was something like that, and now his hunch was proved right. “That’s…incredibly petty.”

“Yeah. But that person is…” she shook her head. “They keep up this facade of a good person, but there’s just poison inside them.”

“Couldn’t Steve make a statement about it? That the rumors are just something meant to hurt him?”

“Do you think it would make any difference?” Robin asked and shook his head. “The people who believe the rumors…if he gave a statement, they would only believe them even more. Steve doesn’t care about the rumors, he doesn’t need to. He’s already achieved enough. His talent and work aren’t stained by some hearsay. What matters to him are his clients and they only look at his previous work.”

“He sounds like a great guy,” Billy said, smiling.

“He is a great guy,” Robin agreed.

When they arrived back at the hotel and were parting ways, Billy to the elevator and Robin to finish something in the conference room that was acting as headquarters for the photoshoot, Robin spoke. “So, are you coming to the crew’s dinner tonight?”

Billy nodded with a smile. “Yeah, of course. Looking forward to get together outside work.”

Robin’s smile widened. “It’s good to have you there. See you!” she said before she continued on her way.

+ + +

In the evening, the entire crew got together for dinner at a nearby restaurant known for its lively ambiance and delectable cuisine. They sat down at a large table on the covered back terrace of the restaurant with a stunning view of the ocean at night. Tiki torches were lighting the beach in front of the restaurant, and a few smaller tables were set there for a more private setting.

The crew sat around the table in no specific order. Steve took a seat next to Robin and Billy ended up sitting one seat across the table from Steve.

“This place is amazing,” Billy said with a smile, taking in the warm ambiance of the restaurant.

“I often eat here when I’m visiting. I thought it would be a pleasant treat for you all,” Steve said, looking around the table and then landing back on Billy. “Just wait until you get to the food.”

.

Everyone asked for suggestions from Steve as they perused the menu. Once the choices were made and orders left, Gavin raised his glass. “Here’s to a phenomenal shoot so far,” he toasted, and the group around the table echoed the sentiment.

As they waited for the food to arrive, the crew exchanged experiences between different photoshoots and playfully compared photographers and who was the nicest to work with—the winner obviously ending up being Steve.

Billy smiled as he listened to the crew share stories and banter back and forth. He had experienced nothing like this before. Having something casual outside the set with everyone from the photoshoot felt incredible. They were all part of the team, Steve included.

He couldn’t help stealing glances at Steve across the table throughout dinner. Even after two days, he found it quite incredible that they were working together—and more than that; actually collaborating.

And now, seeing Steve being casual and joining the fun—and learning what Robin had told him earlier—his crush on him just deepened. Which, Billy knew, would cause trouble if he let it show on set. Or at all. But he could look and enjoy the camaraderie.

.

The restaurant buzzed with the energy of a day well spent. Steve watched as Billy animatedly described his experience with the Givenchy campaign so far to the stylist Mina. He saw the genuine enthusiasm in Billy’s gestures and expressions, and he couldn’t help but to let some of the youthful energy rub on him.

“This…it’s surreal, you know?” Billy’s voice held a tremor of excitement. “To be chosen, to get to wear those clothes, to represent the brand—it’s something I don’t take lightly. I’ve always wanted to be a part of this world.” He turned to look at Steve with a wide smile, but kept talking to Mina. “And to get to work with that guy,” he pointed at Steve with his finger, “It’s been incredible to work with the best of the best.”

Steve was used to being praised, but having it come from Billy made it special. He thanked him with a modest tilt of his head. “It’s been a pleasure to work with a talent such as yourself as well,” he replied, offering a warm smile.

.

As the evening wore on and the food and wine flowed freely, the conversations grew more lively and boisterous. Someone brought up embarrassing mishaps on set or in various settings around fashion, and soon they were all swapping hilarious stories and laughing uproariously.

When it became Billy’s turn to share something embarrassing, he shared an anecdote about the time he tripped on the runway. “It was my first big show. I was so nervous I could barely walk in a straight line. But I made it down the runway okay for the first pass. On the return though...My shoe got caught on the hem of my pants and the next thing I knew, I was stumbling forward and landed face-first right in the flowers!”

The table erupted in laughter at the visual. Billy grinned and continued, “The whole thing shifted and I got doused in water. So there I am, soaked and covered in flower petals, designer pants ripped halfway up my thigh. I wanted to just die on the spot.” He shook his head ruefully.

“But the creative director thought it was hilarious. He said it was the most entertainment the front row had seen in years. And it got me a ton of press coverage, so I guess it worked out okay in the end,” he continued with a laugh, then smiled shyly across the table at Steve. “So if I trip on set, at least I know how to recover with some grace.”

Steve chuckled warmly. “I’ll do my best to make sure there are no floral arrangements in your path this time,” he replied in a playful tone.

+ + +

Finally, the evening came to an end, and the group headed back to the hotel, pleasantly exhausted after the long day.

Steve was walking a few paces behind the rest of them. When he noticed Billy glancing over his shoulder and then stopping to wait for him, something warm stirred in his chest.

“That was a fun dinner,” Billy said, glancing over at Steve as they strolled along the quiet street. “They seem like good people,” Billy said, referring to the crew.

Steve looked over at Billy. “Gavin knew who to contact when he put this crew together. I’ve been working with most of them for a long time on various projects. When the crew is great and knows each other, it makes the long days go easier.”

Billy nodded. “I’ve never felt so welcomed to a shoot before.” He paused, then added more quietly, “Especially by the photographer.”

Steve felt a little flutter in his stomach at the words that seemed to hold more meaning than just the obvious. “I’m glad to hear that,” he replied after a moment. “This shoot is special for me, too.”

They walked in silence for a minute, shoulders almost brushing. The night air was balmy, the hush of the waves in the distance soothing.

“You really love what you do, don’t you?” Billy asked softly.

Steve considered this. “I do. Capturing meaningful moments, telling stories through images...it’s always fascinated me.”

He noticed Billy looking at him and met his gaze.

Billy quickly looked away. “Sorry, I uh...” Billy stammered. “Just thinking about the shoot tomorrow. Any tips?”

Steve smiled, seeing through the excuse. He realized that the current he’d felt flowing between them, it wasn’t just a vibe. Billy seemed to have…something towards him. A crush, maybe. He knew he shouldn’t take it seriously at all, but he couldn’t help but to feel warmth swell inside him.

And at that, he felt a pang in his chest. It was just a crush. They would never fit together. They were worlds apart and knew nothing real about each other. And then there was what went unsaid; their age difference. Thus, Billy just had a crush on his public image and on his art. And even though it felt bad, he, too, had to take it just as that.

“Get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow,” Steve finally said.

.

Despite knowing that he was reading too much into things, Billy couldn’t help but feel disappointed with Steve’s answer. He had hoped for something more personal, a glimpse into Steve’s thoughts and feelings, maybe. Being this close to him, smelling his musky cologne, was both exhilarating and torturous. It was bittersweet to know that to Steve, he was just another model on a long list of others, and there was really no reason he would stand out from that crowd.

.

As they reached the hotel, Steve and Billy found themselves the only ones left in the elevator after the others had filtered out one by one to their floors. Steve stole glances at Billy, wondering if he should say something.

“Are you flying out tomorrow or the day after?” he finally asked

Billy nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor counter. “Tomorrow. Back home and back to work.”

“What do you do for a living?” Steve asked. “Other than modeling?”

“I’m a barista,” Billy replied with a small smile. “But I’ll be quitting soon, thanks to this campaign.”

Steve chuckled, nodding in understanding. “I used to be one too before I started earning enough through photography.” He shook his head at the memories. “Glad I don’t have to deal with that kind of demanding customers anymore.”

“I won’t be missing them either,” Billy laughed.

The same warm feeling from earlier swelled in Steve’s chest again. He knew he was on dangerous waters, but he couldn’t help it. Billy���s laughter was quickly becoming something he wouldn’t mind hearing again.

When they arrived at their floor, Steve followed Billy down the hallway, trying not to let his eyes linger too long on Billy’s figure. He waited outside his own room until Billy reached his own before speaking again. “Tonight was great,” he said, choosing his words carefully to not give any wrong impressions.

Billy turned to look at him and smiled. “Yeah, it was. It was great to get to know everyone a bit more.”

“Indeed it was,” Steve replied. He unlocked the door and opened it. “Well, good night,” he said, looking at Billy. “See you in the morning.”

“Good night,” Billy replied, holding the handle of his door. The tone Steve wished him good night with was soft, and it made Billy’s head spin a little. He opened his door, once more glancing in Steve’s direction, hoping he would still be there. But Steve’s door was closed and the corridor empty.

Even though it didn’t feel like it, Billy knew it was for the best.

[doesntmeanitsmeaningless]

Hola Ailo!!!! The recap that you did ask for is here(a little bit late sorry but still counts), Louis show at the Victorious Festival:

Festival poster.

As you saw but still will link some pics because he look gorgeous, Louis wore full black with a cap 🫠 and the barricade photo I show you that deserves to be link again haha.

🚨Highlight of the recap shirtless Steve is back!!! Thank you Steve 🚨 (no idea if that is a highlight for you but it wouldn't be a recap of me without that important info).

His family was there, here is a cute video of Lottie, other with Olive and other with Lucky.

Seems like the weather was cold, because Mr. Weather Man comment about it and also was doing some arms and hands gestures a few times to said that he was cold, poor Louis, but hey we thank him for showing a tank top.

He said this sweet quote and mention that it was his first festival in the UK.

Here he was interacting with a fan but I wonder what the sign said.

Louis instagram story.

Some observations about the live:-Hands up and down during kill my mind instead of kmm lights (like this other time that they did it in other festival), seems like is a tradition now and I love it.

-You can see his family on the side of the stage moving to the rhythm.

-Fans were yelling I love you Louis and he was smiling.

-He was interacting with a lot of fans, was very smiley and so confident. It was lovely seeing him like this.

He also sign a doncaster bear of a fan I guess maybe after the show I don't know.

For your Nouis' heart, Louis give a like to a video of Niall and Ed Sheeran singing Little Things (here is the full video) on today's show of Niall, they also sing Lego House (there was no live 😑, we just have to listen after it was sad but still beautiful).

Louis took a shot backstage with Phoebe and Daisy.

I already share it but still, the short setlist 11 songs rip 7 😭.

The crowd look huge, I'm so proud of him.

Here is the live in case you want to watch it.

And that is it for the baby recap. I'm probably missing some things but is what I could do, I was very busy with Niall's updates so I didn't pay much attention to everything that was shared yet.

Let me know what you think, I love reading reactions of the recaps :)

I hope you have a lovely day. Here is a spanish phrase for you: Te mando un abrazo.

Oh wow CC 🤩🤩🤩 this is amazing!! Thank you so much!! 😘 Even though I did request it (as I’m in the alps, no wifi, and quite some fandom fomo), the feeling of getting a recap is… so unexpectedly heartwarming! 🥰 It made me sing We Made It “sayin’ goodbye, wavin’ to the hard times” to the mountains this morning, as you really make me feel so included!!

I love the outfit as a whole: it works!! I’m glad you sent a photo of the cap, I would’ve missed the “mauled by a dragon” aspect of it otherwise. 🤪

Weatherman Louis 🥶 lives in an entirely different climate than Steve 🥵! And the shivering pic… is gonna be a favourite of mine!! It’s convincing me that it must’ve been freezing 😎

Aww… the mini Tomlinsons!! 🥹 They do bring a cuteness factor that we don’t often see. And I can’t believe how big Olive is! Can that really be?!?🤔🤔

I love that the kmm hands are back: you know the Louies are in the crowd when…!!

I’m guessing the sign was one of those “please write me a tattoo” or something requests… and Louis didn’t wanna explain that he’s working, day job etc again… so he just says “how?” in THAT voice… wow! 🫠 Good of you to include that!! 🤭

Mini but fun setlist! Face the Music surviving every cut is a surprise to me, but hey… not my day job 🫢

And thanks for the bigger picture: Niall singing Little Things with Ed! Yeah! And Louis liking it!! Now c’mon boys…!! Just a little click, babe!

So much more to say but the kids & mountains are calling. Schöne Grüße aus den Bergen!

Und herzlichen Dank für die tolle Zusammenfassung!! 🫶🫶🫶

[hargrove-mayfields]

Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 7- Invisible Disability Awareness

My prompt: Steve on a low spoons day

-•-•-•-

Steve wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. Literally. He’s face down in his girlfriend's pillows, drooling on her favorite squishmallow.

It isn’t rare for Chrissy to get up in the middle of the night and move to sleeping on an air mattress in the living room. Her condition is more rare than Steve’s, a type of synesthesia that mimics touch. So if Steve had his face squished against a pillow and hair all over his eyes, Chrissy would feel the same sensation.

Sometimes it could get frustrating, especially if she was having a bad sensory day, so it wasn’t surprising or offensive that she would put a little distance between herself and Steve.

The part that makes him admittedly sad is that he’s having a bad day too. He hadn’t just woken up normally, it had been from a tic. It was a subtle one, but his sleep had been light enough that kicking his leg and knocking his blanket off had been enough.

That one annoying twitch of his leg has quickly turned into a full scale tic attack.

“Chrissy- Chrissy- Chrissy-“

That particular name tic was born from a time he’d called for her, and she couldn’t hear him because of her noise canceling headphones. So he’d yelled out a second time and suddenly his brain decided it needed to say her name as many times as possible.

These days it usually only pops up during tic attacks, but that only makes it more frustrating, since he’s probably trying to communicate something he needs when it takes root.

But that isn’t what gets Chrissy to actually come in. It’s probably the loud, somewhat squeaky shout that alerts her that Steve is both awake and probably not doing so well.

She’s there by his side within a few minutes, her hand on his chest and soothing him softly, “Steve, darling, deep breaths.”

His shoulders slam backwards into the mattress before he can answer, another tic cutting him off, because of course it would, “I’m sorry -Chrissy- Chrissy- Chrissy- Today’s not a good day..”

“We can rest, baby. There was nothing important to do today anyways.” Chrissy offers, getting settled back in next to him.

“Fudge!” Steve shouts unexpectedly, his arms flying up like he’s frustrated with something.

Chrissy looks hesitant now, taking that tic as maybe a reflection of how he feels, just in case, “Is that okay with you?”

But Steve assures her, “Sure. Napping sounds- fudge! Fuck! -fun.”

A long, frustrated hum trails off after his words, deepened when his closed hand pounds on his chest exactly three times.

He’s already so over this, “Nevermind.. I can’t sleep like this.”

“We don’t have to. Just get comfy, Stevie. It won’t fix it but, maybe it will help a little.” Chrissy keeps him from giving up.

They ran out of the medicine they could give him when his attacks got too severe, but Steve didn’t like to take it anyways. Not that he enjoys his tics so much, but they’re a part of him, and being without them after almost fourteen years of doing this makes him feel strange.

He bets Chrissy probably feels strange too, with all the physical sensations Steve is having that are undoubtedly mirroring in her body. If it weren’t for the amount of times they’d talked about it and Chrissy said she didn’t mind since it’s not Steve’s fault, he would’ve felt guilty.

Instead he lets her pull the weighted blanket up over him gently, and even hands him his chewy scarf, the red one that’s his instead of the pink one she wears, instead of the blanket when it’s clear he’s about to bite the hell out of it. He would’ve too, because his tics make him bite down on that chewy fabric until his jaw almost hurts.

When it releases, he makes sure to let Chrissy know he appreciates her gentle pampering, “Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Stevie.” Chrissy reminds him lovingly.

This time, not for tic reasons, he blurts out, “I love you.”

It makes his beautiful girlfriend smile, a sight that is instant comfort on its own, “I love you too, honey.”

All this repetition of words triggers some kind of tic response, “Lovey dovey, lovey dovey, all the tiiime.”

For some reason, Steve’s Tourette’s loves music. He isn’t really sure about any of the science behind it, but his mouth is always blurting out random song lyrics, no matter how situationally inappropriate. Like the time he shouted a few lines of Fat Bottomed Girls in a butterfly garden he and Chrissy were visiting.

This time though, a couple of lines of some 1950s love song is just cute enough to get a pass. Chrissy at least thinks so, since she giggles and says, “That’s very sweet.”

When Steve bonks himself on the nose, it’s not quite as nice. It actually really hurts.

Steve seeks comfort for the pain, “Can I cuddle you?”

Chrissy opens her arms up wide to make room for him, “Of course, snuggle bunny! Come here!”

That’s an invitation Steve wastes no time to accept, laying his head on Chrissy's chest and breathing deep to stay relaxed. It works a little, in that her cuddles at least eases the frustration and the exhaustion mixing together in his mind.

Maybe Steve can’t sleep, but he can relax, and this is the peak of his bliss. Just lazing about with his girlfriend Chrissy, a beautiful and positive force in his life he never expected to have when his diagnosis came at fourteen.

It was through his Tourette’s that they became close though, since they’d met in a neurologists office while Chrissy was still seeking a diagnosis. He’d rolled up a waiting room magazine and hit himself in the head with it. She’d been the only one to ask if he was okay instead of trying to hide a laugh like a few others, and the rest was history.

Chrissy always says someone should make a movie about them and their fantasy disabled romance. Steve doesn’t think any actress would be beautiful and charming enough to play her.

The romantic ideal can’t always be their reality though. As Steve learns when he makes a velociraptor-esque screech and his head slams back into the headboard.

Chrissy shifts a pillow there and kisses Steve’s forehead, wordlessly trying to make it better, since it’s clear that banging your skull against hardwood definitely hurts. She winces too, probably feeling the sensation herself. It makes her shake and wiggle her wrists to get the bad feelings out.

He appreciates that a lot. She’s always here for him, even when it’s hard for her, but never makes a big deal out of Steve’s tics in a way that would just make him more upset.

Steve wants to try something to make him feel even better though, using one tried and true trick, “Can we -fuck- no. Can we sing a song?”

For probably the same reason he has so many musical tics, music therapy and singing works really well for Steve. It soothes some part of his brain that is otherwise quite unpredictable. Not that it stops his tics, nothing but medications could, but it does make them a little easier to bear. Hell, maybe it’s just a coping mechanism and it’s got some placebo effect. Whatever the explanation, Steve wants to try it.

Chrissy of course agrees, though she asks first, “What do you wanna sing?”

“Magic.” Steve answers automatically.

He had first heard the song performed by a cheerleading animatronic mouse that looked suspiciously like his girlfriend, and it had rapidly become one of his all time favorites. Olivia Newton-John had held that position since Grease, and any love song of hers, even the ones he learned in an overcrowded, kid-infested pizza restaurant, was going to cement itself in his heart.

Though, and maybe it’s because he’s biased, Steve thinks Chrissy sings it much better than the mousey showbiz mascot.

She’s very gentle about starting, combing her fingers through Steve’s messy sleep hair, and humming a moment before she leads, “Come take my hand,

You should know me,

I've always been in your mind,

You know I will be kind,

I'll be guiding you.”

Steve’s verbal tics are calming down, no more shouts or squeaks interrupting the soft melody, but he does still have the motor ones. At one point, his hands try to go for Chrissy's mouth to stop her from singing, obviously not an intentional action, but one she intercepts softly, taking his hands and holding them loosely despite the way his body twitches and shakes her.

“Building your dream has to start now,

There's no other road to take,

You won't make a mistake,

I'll be guiding you,

You have to believe we are magic,

Nothin' can stand in our way,

You have to believe we are magic,

Don't let your aim ever stray,

And if all your hopes survive,

Destiny will arrive,

I'll bring all your dreams alive,

For you,

I'll bring all your dreams alive,

For you.”

Steve relaxes more and more, closing his eyes and just letting the words and the light harmony of their two voices take the tension out of his body.

“From where I stand, you are home free,

The planets align so rare,

There's promise in the air,

And I'm guiding you,

Through every turn I'll be near you,

I'll come anytime you call,

I'll catch you when you fall,

I'll be guiding you,”

In the midst, where the instrumental would be, Steve’s tics decide to make a couple of beeping sounds. These ones feel like normal tics though. Not the violent, never ending electricity that courses through his veins until it hurts during a tic attack.

“You have to believe we are magic,

Nothin' can stand in our way,

You have to believe we are magic,

Don't let your aim ever stray,

And if all your hopes survive,

Destiny will arrive,

I'll bring all your dreams alive,

For you,

I'll bring all your dreams alive,

For you.”

Chrissy kisses him again as they finish singing their song. Finally, Steve feels at peace.

He also feels exhausted, and with the intensity of his tic attack stamped out, he’s feeling beyond tired. Looking up at his girlfriend, he can tell Chrissy is too after a night of sleeping alone.

“Pretty.” Is the short phrase he mutters to describe their song and the way it connected them.

Chrissy doubles the sentiment, “Mhm! You sounded amazing, lovely!”

Steve cuddles impossible closer to her, which he knows Chrissy likes, because it’s a sensation she feels in her own body, not one through Steve’s or anyone else’s. Plus it works much better at decompression when Steve lays on her than if she was just using the weighted blanket.

He also lets her know, “Feels better.”

“I can tell, honey. Get some sleep now.” Chrissy supports him, rubbing his back soothingly.

It’s not long before Steve is dozing off. Drifting deep into the rest hadn't gotten through his sleep last night. He’s probably drooling on Chrissy, and he’s definitely snoring, but they’re at a place where they can feel comfortable doing those kinds of things in front of each other. It’s a part of him just as much as his tics are, or Chrissy’s autism is part of herself.

Steve didn’t have any spoons to get out of bed this morning, but he didn’t need to. Chrissy would love him any way she had him.

~~~~~

For my final charity, I’m delighted to highlight the Autistic Self Advocacy Network!

“Nothing about us, without us” is their tagline, which represents their ideals that autistic communities should be organized and empowered to speak and advocate for ourselves, rather than legislators doing it for us. This of course means they have members who are autistic themselves.

Their goal of empowerment is achieved through means such as creating education resources, lobbying for policy changes, creating tools for self-advocacy to be possible, and providing leadership training to autistic folks. ASAN currently also is working towards getting funding for community events that would help autistic culture thrive, and conducting research on the best ways to give support. They publish reports and books to make their findings accessible and provide education among our own community as well.

On the ASAN site, there is access to updated information about current social issues that affect our community that can be accessed. You’ll also find a resource library there.

To support this network, there are ways to join the cause, such as volunteering, signing up for a newsletter, contacting a local affiliate group, or donating money.

If any of this information is of interest to you, visit the sit by clicking here.

~~~~~~

Now that that’s over, if you’re still reading this far, I’d like to thank everybody for the success of this event!!

My dear friend @intothedysphoria and I conceived this while we were going through a personal low point, and it means a lot to both of us that so many of you folks would be interested in or works!! And to those who have participated, thank you so so much as well!! We’ve been truly delighted by all the content we’ve gotten, and that warms our hearts. It’s nice to see our community coming together.

Fret not though! We may be nearing the end of this event, but there is an upcoming men’s mental health themed event in November! Additionally, we plan to do this event again next year!

Also, if you want to submit something but are worried because you ran out of time, that’s okay! For two or three days after the event, we’ll be checking the tags still to see if any new content has popped up! This is because we accept late submissions as long as we’re tagged!!

Once again, you guys have made this a dream and I can’t thank y’all enough!

Love from EJ ❤️❤️❤️

[griffin-girl-r]

First Easter

Created: 22.04.2022

Finished: 24.04.2022

Edited: 11.09.2023

Word count: 1,086

Age: 10 months

Warning: Tony

Detka = Baby

Request: No

Summary: You and Natasha celebrate your first Easter together.

—

Natasha had never been a person who cared too much about celebrations like birthdays, Easter, Christmas, or any other there could be.

That was, of course, until she became a mother.

When Natasha unexpectedly had you, her world turned upside down, and suddenly all the things she was taught to be wrong and bad, were no longer wrong and bad.

She started to crave love and affection.

She wanted to be the best mother for you. To give you everything she couldn't have as a child.

Hugs, kisses, celebrations, silly faces, playtime, lullabies, or stories became the things the ex-assassin loved with all her heart now.

After you, of course.

You will always be the thing Natasha truly loves with all her being.

—

"Good morning, baby!" Natasha cooed at her baby as she took you out of your crib

"Mama!" You excitedly clapped your hands

You said your first word about a month ago and there weren't actually too many words that you could currently say. Three words. That was all you could say at the moment. But Natasha was so proud of you for being an early talker and she tried her best to slowly teach you new words.

As soon as you were in her arms, you snuggled closer to her chest and remained silent for a few seconds while Natasha rocked you from side to side.

"Guess what day it's today, baby?" Nat lowered her head to look at your face "It's Easter! Can you believe it, detka?! Your first Easter!"

As an answer, you started babbling when you heard Natasha's excitement and she couldn't help but smile and copy you.

—

"Where on Earth it's Stark?" Sam shouted as he entered the common room where everyone was gathered

"I don't know." Steve declared "No one had seen him the entire morning, not even Pepper."

"Why do I feel like he's about to do some stupid thing, only his ass could do?!" Bucky stated as he continued to eat some fruits from his plate

Let's just say that Bucky wasn't wrong at all.

Because when Tony ran inside the room dressed as a bunny, well... more like a drunk bunny, all the kids started screaming and crying.

All except you.

"Hey, hunny bunnies! Guess who's here?!" Tony started moving around the room and closer to you who were sitting in your mother's lap on the sofa

Natasha finished feeding you just in time before Tony made his grand entrance, scaring all the kids away.

Everyone collectively face palmed themselves, this was such a Tony move. And yet, they kind of expected him to do something like that. He's Tony after all.

"Mini Romanoff..." Tony extended his arms to take you from Natasha's "Come to Uncle Tony."

The moment Tony started removing you from your mom's arms, you screamed so loud that Tony almost dropped you to the ground. But as soon as Natasha held you again, your cries faded away.

Natasha only glared at Tony and the man vanished into thin air.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. Mama's right here." Natasha whispered while rubbing your back as you hid your face in her chest, clinging to her

—

Natasha already had planned a lot of fun activities for you two to do together.

She started by dressing you in the cutest pink and white dress there exists and a baby jacket that had a white bunny on the back.

Then she took you outside the compound, and you both lay on a picnic blanket.

Natasha was looking mesmerized at you all the time. You were her little miracle and you simply amazed her more and more with each day that passed.

The way you would turn your head at every sound or how you would smile and babble when Natasha explained to you about nature and animals, and sounds or look where she pointed and carefully watched whatever she showed you with curious eyes, was something the woman thought she'll never get to experience because of her past.

—

"Look, Y/N! Here's your gift!" Natasha lowered down beside you a basket full of things, after you two returned from watching the duckies at the pond and feeding them

As soon as you saw the multitude of things in that basket you did your best to sit using all your baby strength and started giggling as you reached to pull the things out.

There were a few baby books, a baby blanket, some stuffed animals and interactive toys, and clothes. All for you.

You first reached for a stuffed dog.

"Pup." You smiled at your mom, proudly showing her your new toy "Mama. Pup."

"That's right, Y/N. It's a puppy. Good job!" She kissed the top of your head "Let's see what else you have here."

You spent the rest of the day in your mom's arms outside, playing with toys, listening to her as she read you from your new books and sang happy songs for you to clap and babble along and maybe even get you to learn a new word.

—

It was late and the day was almost over when Clint, Steve, Wanda, and a beat-up Tony, made their way inside the common room.

But as soon as they got inside, they froze in place.

"Is that... Romanoff?" Tony questioned "F.R.I.D.A.Y., record this please."

"Tasha?" Clint called for her

But Natasha was too focused to chase you, crawling all around the room. The sound of her laughter and happy voice, alongside your baby giggles, were filling the compound.

"I'm gonna catch you! I'm gonna catch you!" Natasha laughed as she crawled after you

The sight of her pretending to move faster only made you crawl as quickly as you could.

"Come on, guys!" Wanda pushed the boys out "It's not our place here. Let them have their moment. It's private!"

—

Even if they got out, Tony still kept the recording of Natasha crawling after her daughter during their playtime.

That video will become an important reminder for you of how much your mom loves you.

—

"I love you." Natasha whispered in your ear after she finished her lullaby but you were already sound asleep in her arms "I hope you enjoyed your first Easter as much as I did, baby."

Natasha's heart swelled from joy when you smiled in your sleep as she kissed your forehead before putting you back in your crib.

This was the first Easter ever for both of you and it was definitely a memorable one.

[thaliaisalesbian]

i get myself twisted in threads

Chapter 13: it's the last thing you wanted

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15

Nancy watches the boys—her boys, she can think that in the privacy of her own mind—sleep for a few minutes before she carefully untangles herself from them and crawls out of bed.

"Would've thought you three would be in there a while longer." Hopper raises an eyebrow at her. As if he doesn’t know that the door was open and that Steve is in no way cleared for pretty much any… physical activity.

"They're asleep." She grabs her bag from where she left it at the door. "I have something for Steve in here."

"Flowers?" Hopper asks, sarcastically, but El either ignores that or just doesn’t pick up on it. 

"I think Steve would like flowers." She says, gravely. "Maybe purple or blue ones. When Max paints our nails, he always picks purple or blue. But maybe that is because she doesn’t have yellow."

“Well, you’ll have to make sure you tell Nancy and Jonathan just what Steve likes, then.” Hopper says. Nancy can’t tell if he’s serious or if he’s humoring El. “Right now, though, you know it’s time for your chores. You’ve been getting out of some of them lately because Steve’s here.”

El pouts at him for a minute before she walks off; if the boys weren’t asleep, she’d probably be stomping.

“That girl.” Hopper shakes his head fondly. “What is it you’re getting for Steve, then?”

She holds up the cards.

“Helping him study? He won’t be back at school for a while yet.”

“Not exactly.” Nancy’s not sure how much she wants to tell Hopper about this. He’s probably picked up on some of it, but she doesn’t know if Steve has said anything to him outright. “More like something Jonathan and I wanted to say to him that ended up coming out unexpectedly.”

And Steve had asked to see them. Even if he’d meant it as a joke, and she doesn’t believe he did, she’d still get them out for him.

“Does it have anything to do with all the kissing you three were doing earlier?” Hopper pulls out a chair, and she realizes he intends to have an actual conversation about this.

She’s going to die of embarrassment before this is over, she’s pretty sure. The only way this could get worse is if her parents showed up.

“Yeah.”

“I hope I don’t have to warn you to watch yourselves in public.”

That’s something else they’ll have to talk about. Right now, people know she and Jonathan are dating, so it would make sense for them to be paired off publicly.

But she doesn’t want to leave Steve out of it, no matter what people will say. It’s too dangerous, period, for Steve and Jonathan to pair off. It’s almost certain that one if not both of them would be hunted down for it.

Sure, if word gets around that ‘all-American good girl’  Nancy Wheeler is dating two boys, there will be gossip. Mom will have to make excuses at church, and the leash she’s got Nancy on will only tighten. But dating around isn’t uncommon, even if it's not something she’s known for.

Even a good girl has to have fun, right?

“We haven’t gotten that far yet.” Is what she says. It doesn’t matter with Steve laid up like he is, anyway. “People already know we’re friends. Everyone talks where they think we can’t hear them, but very few people have outright asked about Steve. They know we know something, though.”

They haven’t kept up with their normal routines at all. Jonathan’s stopped going to the darkroom, her pieces for the school paper have been short lately. That alone is an indicator that something’s very wrong.

“Well, talk it over with them. Not today, but soon enough.” Nancy rolls her eyes. Of course she’s going to…and she’s not just saying that this time.

“Don’t give me that look, I’m not your dad. I’m not going to make you talk. While you’re up, though, I don’t suppose your parents know where you are?”

“They do, they’re just not happy about it. Especially my mom. She thinks I’m setting a bad example for Holly by constantly being around boys.” As if Holly is actually paying attention to where Nancy’s going, and who she’s going with.

And Holly won’t be a teenager for another ten years. Dating culture might have changed some by then. Her social life will probably look entirely different.

“Anything else on your mind, Wheeler?” Hopper doesn’t quite look at her when he asks, and Nancy realizes that this is just as awkward for him as it is for her.

“No,” Not that she’d like to discuss with him, anyway. “I’m okay.”

For the first since Steve got trapped in the Upside Down, she can believe those words when she says them.

finish on ao3 or under the cut

“Nance, I hope you don’t have plans this weekend. You and Jon, I mean.” Steve’s on his crutches, waiting for her just inside the door. He kisses her once and then pulls back.

“You’re up!” She drops her bag; she’d planned on getting homework done, but it’s not as if she can’t ask for an extension.

“I’m up.” He grins at her. “Infection and fever-free. Owens said they might be able to take the stitches in my side out sometime next week. But for now, I’m allowed to move around again.”

“He can go outside now, Nancy.” El pipes up. “But not with just me.”

“She’s been pretty pissed about that all day.” Steve stage-whispers.

“I can lift you into the air! You would not fall over and hurt yourself if I was there.”

“It’s not you, El, I promise.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s pretty hard to use crutches in the woods, and there aren’t any paths around here.”

“Hmm.” El’s face scrunches together. “I will tell Hopper that we need to make you a path. Then we can go out.”

Nancy doesn’t think that’s going to fly with Hopper, but El can pick her battles.

“My mom wants me to go to a church dinner on Saturday night, but that’s it.” She tells Steve. “And Jonathan is working on Sunday.”

He’d stopped, for a while. The Byers had had some extra money from the government, even after they’d put most of it away. And then with Steve missing… well, he’d wanted to wait to start working again.

Nancy’s pretty sure that most of what he keeps from his paychecks—because she knows he slips some of it to Joyce, no matter what her feelings are on the matter—is going to go towards dates and surprises for them.

“Then Saturday morning is perfect.” Steve’s practically vibrating. “It’s going to be hard not kissing both of you, though.”

“I know.” They’re spoiled right now, she knows, tucked away in Hopper’s cabin as they have been. “But it will be worth it. We’ll still get to spend time together.”

“Will it make things worse for you? At school?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said Tommy’s been talking to you.”

“Yeah, and everyone else has been talking behind our backs. You’re the hottest topic of the school, right now. 

“Maybe it’d be better if we didn’t do anything, then.” Steve closes his eyes for a minute. “I don’t want people harassing you for information or anything.”

“We can handle it, Steve. What else did Owens say?”

“That going outside would be good for me, but it’s not going to be easy getting around out here. So going somewhere else is really our only option.”

“Steve,” She can’t take his hand, because he needs them, but she touches the back of his hand lightly. “Do you have a list of the things you’d like to do most?”

“Yes!” El grabs a piece of paper from the table. “I helped him write it.” She must mean that literally; Steve’s familiar handwriting is nowhere to be seen.

“Then you let Jonathan and I worry about it. And about ourselves.” Nancy says, firmly. Steve had planned most, if not all, of their dates before, and she and Jonathan haven’t gone out in the same way she and Steve used to.

They’re all going to have to adjust a little. She scans the list when El hands it to her, relieved to find that she recognizes most of the places and activities. What she doesn’t know, Jonathan probably will.

“Are you sure? You and Jonathan would be okay with that?”

If people talk, they talk. It’s not like Jonathan hasn’t been at the center of that whirlwind before; she has, too.

And Steve’s been the center of so many rumors that she couldn’t tell you half of them. 

They'll be able to handle it.

"I'm sure." She leans over to kiss his cheek, careful not to unbalance him. "We'll be okay, I promise. Now go sit down."

"But I can finally move around again, Nancy!"

"And what are the limits Owens and Irene set for you?" Knowing him, he’s going to be pushing them all now.

It's good to see him up, it's good to see him happy.

"Steve." El’s got her hands on her hips, and Nancy has to fight to keep her face straight. There’s no way she didn't pick that up from Steve. "Hop said you need to supervise while I make food."

"This is just a ploy to make me sit down." Steve says.

"No, I am making food, and you are supervising. Nancy can be the taste-tester today."

"What? You're taking away my taste-testing privileges? See if I make you dessert again."

"You will." Nancy picks her bag back up and sits at the table with Steve. El's making pasta, it looks like.

"Don't you have homework?" Steve nudges her lightly. "You can taste-test while you do your homework. Hey, maybe I can read over your shoulder."

“That would involve you standing, I’ll just read my notes out loud.” Between Steve and El asking questions about what she’s reading, Nancy only gets about halfway done with one assignment, but she doesn’t mind. This is the most fun she’s had doing homework in a long time.

Joyce reminds herself, for the fifth time in ten minutes, that the rowdy kids in her backseat aren't purposefully trying to be distracting, they're just really excited.

And they get loud when they're excited.

She'd been speaking very quietly on the phone with Jim, just a whisper, but Will is very practiced in listening in on her conversations (and Jonathan’s, she assumes, but she’s never caught him at it.) He'd overheard that Steve is up and walking with crutches, and immediately got on his walkie to share the news.

Jonathan and Nancy are sure to be in for a lecture when the kids realize they've known for a few days.

Jim had still been cautious—evidently all of his crutching around the small cabin had completely wiped Steve out for the first few days as he got used to being up and moving again.

She almost wants to tell Jonathan that the date he and Nancy think they’re planning discreetly can be done at their house. She and Will can clear out for a while, maybe even the whole night.

But before that… she doesn’t know everything, Jonathan hadn't told her and Steve had shut down. That night, the other week, when she'd gotten to the cabin to find Jonathan rambling, Steve crying—or at least he had been, even if he wasn’t still—and a broken bowl, something shifted after that with the three of them. If Jim knows, he hasn't said anything to her.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping to talk to Steve soon. He’d been understandably embarrassed when she’d had to change out his catheter, but now that they’re (hopefully) through the worst of it, she’s going to have to find a time when the kids aren’t all over him to talk to him.

“Steve!” Dustin knocks him down almost immediately. El gets there before she does, shoving Dustin back and off of Steve. 

“NO!” Steve gets himself sitting up while El stands guard. “If you make Steve fall again, I will make you fall. Off of a cliff.”

“El, don’t do that.” Steve says. “Dustin didn’t mean to. He probably didn’t realize how unstable I am on crutches.”

“You are on crutches. He should have known better.”

Joyce has to give this one to El. Dustin should have known better. He’s still a child, but not so young that he doesn’t know how crutches work.

The rest of the kids gather around in a half-circle, El eyeing them all carefully as they kneel to hug Steve where he’s still sitting on the ground. 

“Hey, Ms. Byers.” Steve gives her a little half-grin. “Any chance you could pull me up? Hop’s not gonna be back for a few hours.”

So, Jim’s graduated to Hop and she’s still Ms. Byers? That’s going to have to change. Can’t let Jim have all the fun.

“Of course, sweetie.”

“El, why don’t you show everyone that new trick you learned? Ms. Byers and I might be a minute.” El doesn't protest, unlike the others. Max, Dustin, and Lucas are unsurprisingly the loudest.

“Call me Joyce. I mean it.” She fixes him with a look as she takes his hands, bracing to pull him up.

“I…” He bites his lip, not hard enough to bleed, not yet, anyway. “So you know how I’m like, kind of dating Nancy and Jonathan now?”

Well, she hadn’t, but honestly she can’t say she’s too surprised. Nancy and Jonathan had been more attentive than she’d expected them to be, what with Steve being Nancy’s ex-boyfriend and all.

“This is probably a hard time to start a relationship.” Joyce chooses her words carefully. She doesn’t know what reaction Steve is expecting out of her, especially as he thought she already knew. “But if anyone can manage it, it’s you three.”

“That’s… not what I mean, exactly. But you don’t mind?”

“I’ve rescued my son from an alternate dimension and fought creatures that shouldn’t exist, you, Nancy, and Jonathan dating isn’t exactly a concern. Unless you don’t want to be dating them?” If that’s the case, and Steve’s coming to her to ask for her advice in gently breaking it off with them, she doesn’t think she’ll know what to say.

But he continues without her prompting, this time.

“So, like, the day I got stuck… I overheard them talking about me. And basically I thought they hated me that entire time. And until like, last week. I thought they were just being nice, or it was pity or guilt or something. And then they told me I heard them all wrong and they actually like me, really like me, and it’s fun and I like them too, but I don’t—” he trails off, and she watches as he has to fight back tears. If she weren’t already steadying him, she’d hug him. “I don’t know if I can believe them. I don’t think they were lying, but Nancy broke up with me for a reason, you know? And she and Jonathan were together before we actually broke up. I just don’t get it. Why would Nancy want to come back to me when she’s the one who ended things in the first place? Why does Jonathan want to date me at all? Why do they even care this much?”

Maybe it’s time Joyce starts sitting Jonathan down weekly again and getting a rundown of his week. He’d complained and refused to tell her anything the last year of her doing so, when he’d been a freshman, so she’d let it go. He’s usually good about coming to her, if she doesn’t catch that something’s wrong and gently pry it out of him first.

“I don’t want to get hurt again.” Steve whispers, and it’s so, so quiet.

“Steve, you don’t have to give them a second chance.” She says, softly. Based on how they’ve behaved lately, Jonathan and Nancy would be wrecks over it. For all that she wants to save them that hurt, she can’t tell Steve to go along with a relationship he doesn’t want. “You don’t have to date either of them.”

“I know, I know that. I want to want to. If it’d been longer, I might have fallen out of love with Nancy eventually, but it hasn’t happened yet. And I like Jonathan, too.”

Joyce thinks for a minute. When Nancy had stopped into the store, her advice had been easy to find, and easier to give. Now her well seems to have dried up.

“I want it to be easy.” Steve looks like he wants to hide, but the way they’re standing makes that impossible. “Usually, it’s so easy to decide if I want to be in a relationship or not. I don’t know why it’s so different this time. I like them both, so I should want it, right?”

“The stakes are higher here, and I think you know that.” Joyce knows all too well how the rumor mill of a small town works. “You wouldn’t be dating a girl—at least, you wouldn’t be dating just a girl.”

“I know. And only one of us could be seen dating Nancy, and we’d have to be so careful. I don’t know… I don’t know if it’s worth it to even try.” He finally meets her eyes. “What do you think you would do?”

What would she do? At his age, she might have done it anyway. Run off, if that’s what it took. She’d been the talk of the town long before she’d married Lonnie. Her reputation hadn’t been one for sleeping around, but she’d had her own share of rumors.

“It would depend on what I was scared of,” She starts. “Jim will tell you that I didn’t care much for my reputation at your age, that what the town would say would barely cross my mind. If I liked two people, and they liked me, I would just—go for it. But you, Nancy, and Jonathan have a more complicated history. They’ve hurt you before, however unintentionally. I wouldn’t be quick to just jump right in, I think. I might still want to try, but I wouldn’t want to start the same way.” She pauses, wanting to think her next words over. She doesn’t know what Steve’s past relationships have been like; how many girls he’s dated long term.

“Trying would be hard. It’d be scarier than anything else, I think. I didn’t date much, so that would have scared me, too. I’d be worried about getting everything right. We’d have to talk a lot, of course, but that’s something I wasn’t great at in high school. Not about the things that worried me, at least.” Steve looks… relieved? She doesn’t know how to describe the emotion that briefly flashes on his face.

"If you're looking for me to tell you what to do… I'd say that you should talk to them. I like to think that I know Jonathan pretty well," that gets him to crack a smile, "and I know that he wouldn't have started a relationship with you if he and Nancy both didn't like you.”

She doesn’t know if she’s actually helped, but some of the tension in Steve’s shoulders is gone. Just in time, too, because what El was doing to distract the other kids seems to have run its course.

“Why are you still out here? I thought you were coming inside!” Dustin yells from the open doorway, as though they wouldn’t hear him if he spoke normally.

“We’re coming in now, Dustin. You’ll have to forgive an old woman for her need to reminisce.” She winks at Steve, keeping it out of Dustin’s eyeline.

“You’re not old, Ms. Byers—Joyce.” Steve says.

“My knees say otherwise.”

And so does her back, later on, when she has to half-carry all of the kids to the car. But the fact that they’re so exhausted only shows how much Steve has healed up, even if he still has a long way to go, so she’s not going to complain.

<- 12 14 ->

[biillyhargroves]

(kind of a continuation of this)

Neil walking into Billy’s hospital room only to find Steve and Eddie already there, carefully tending to Billy, whispering to each other as Billy dozes, making sure his blankets are arranged properly and IV lines aren’t tangled. Their touches are too knowing, too intimate, and they even steal a chaste kiss before noticing that Neil is there.

He doesn’t say a word, but his face is beet red.

The boys are silent, too — too stunned, too scared to say anything. They’d been so good about sneaking around; they know Neil’s schedule, the regular hours he deigns to check in on his son. Sure, he drops in unexpectedly from time to time, to chew out the nurses or harass the case worker or argue with the doctors, but Steve and Eddie knew the signs, knew how to play it off if Neil spotted them milling about. Today? Today they’ve been caught off guard, and just watch as Neil’s face contorts into something monstrous. He drops the cup of coffee he’d been holding, cream and sugar seeping across the floor tiles. He crushes the waxy paper cup beneath his boot as he storms out.

Neil doesn’t come back after that.

There is a single phone call to the social worker assigned to Billy Hargrove, informing her in no uncertain terms that the boy is on his own. He’s eighteen now, for Christ’s sake. He wants to fuck around with men, throw away the white picket fence future Neil swore up and down he was preparing him for? So fucking be it. Neil wasn’t going to stick around to watch, refuses to bear witness, and he certainly wasn’t going to hold the purse strings, fund whatever unsavory lifestyle that boy (he wouldn’t even call Billy his, all but disowned him as a son, abandoned him for good right then and there) insisted on living.

The news is not shocking. In fact, Steve and Eddie think that this might be the best case scenario. Billy is in no more pain than he was before Neil walked through the door — physically, at least. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet when the social worker told him, had remained withdrawn throughout the day. When Steve asked him what was wrong, Billy only shrugged and said, “Hurts more than I thought, I guess.”

Eddie had tucked Billy’s hair behind his ear, kissed his temple, and then his cheek, and then his lips before nuzzling his head against Billy’s shoulder. At his other side, Steve squeezed his hand. Billy nestled between them, pressed himself against them both, let them gently envelop him with arms mindful of all the tubes and wires still bunched and tangled around him.

Of course, the government, in its desperation to cover up the secret Russian infiltration of Hawkins, has been footing Billy’s hospital bills, and Billy has been stashing away every check he’s earned at the pool over the summer. Financially, Neil’s leaving hasn’t fucked him over as much Billy is sure his father hoped it would. And Eddie and Steve, they make sure he wants for nothing, anticipate his needs before they even crop up. Max still stops by, sneaking out of the house to see him, snarking and teasing in that sisterly way that makes things feel a little bit normal. He’ll be alright.

Wayne Munson, though, is perhaps the most surprising addition to Billy’s unexpectedly emancipated life. He swings by with Eddie sometimes, sure. But sometimes he’ll stop in by himself, before or after a shift, or even when Eddie is in school, “just to check in.” He even moves Billy into the trailer when he’s finally discharged, no questions asks. He helps spring the Camaro free of the junkyard that Neil condemned it to. He does all the fatherly things he can think to do to help Billy get back on his feet, because he might not get what’s going on between his nephew and Billy and the Harrington kid, but he knows that it doesn’t change a thing about how he looks at Eddie. If Neil Hargrove can’t shove through that thick skull of his and step up for his boy, Wayne has no problem doing it instead. And if Eddie loves both of these boys? Hell, Wayne loves them, too.

[rendevousz]

sick

avengers x gn!teen!reader

platonic!peter parker x reader

requested by @sunflowerbecca : "hey! a request with the whole teen avengers thing you got gotten on haha, anyways something where the reader gets hurt or faints etc etc and then the rest of the avengers are all worried and frantic as they care for them"

summary: there was a consequence of going on a mission while you were sick

warnings: mentions of throwing up and a tiny fight with bestfriend!peter, avengers babying you as usual

word count: roughly 5k words of utter bullshit me thinks but pls do give this a read LMAO

notes: i'm sorry this took longer to write i was unexpectedly busy on the weekends but here i am i hope you enjoy this <3

"stark, you sure about this?"

"of course i'm sure, capsicle. the kids have been bugging us to let them go on a mission together. i know it's because they just want to mess around without being scolded but this is the easiest mission we've ever gotten since the avengers. besides, they've been pretty good lately so i think they deserve it. don't you guys think so?"

his question was met with approving looks all over the room, except from steve. the whole team except the teens —you and peter— were having a meeting about a simple mission that was supposed to happen that night. you and peter weren't in the meeting because you two were still at school.

it had been months since you and peter started asking the team to let you guys go on missions alone without "adult supervision". it was true that you guys wanted that just so you could do missions without feeling like you were being babysat but it was also because you guys thought that you weren't kids anymore; you could handle simple missions.

"c'mon cap, don't you want to see their face light up when we tell them they can go on this mission together, without us?" clint urged. he knew steve loved the kids, especially you, and he especially loved seeing the way your eyes would light up first before you whole face did.

"okay, fine. but if anything happens to them, you guys are to blame for."

–

school had just finished and you were walking back to the tower with peter. you've been having a killer headache all day and you felt nauseous. you even went to the washroom to throw up twice today. of course you didn't tell peter because he was that type of overprotective best friend who would make you get home if you sneezed more than three times that day. all you wanted to do today was get home quick so you could sleep the sickness away.

yes, you knew you were sick. but you didn't want to tell anyone because like peter, the whole team was overprotective over you and they usually did too much when you were sick. so you avoided that by just acting like you were okay. that was going well so far since all you had to do when you get home was go to your room and tell them you stayed up late last night and needed to catch up on sleep.

of course that didn't go well.

"y/n!" you groaned when peter entered your room uninvited, immediately jumping onto your bed. "yes, pete?" you croaked. his joyful expression turned into a frown when he heard you. "what's wrong? are you okay?"

"yes, pete, i'm okay. just super sleep deprived." you lied, cringing when you felt your head throb once again. "oh.. did you..did you want to sleep? am i interrupting?" he asked, feeling bad. "no, no. it's fine, what did you want?"

"i just came to tell you that mr stark and the team are finally gonna let us go on a mission without them! there's one tonight and they're letting us go alone!" he announced excitedly. you couldn't help the small smile that appeared on your lips when he said that. his happiness was just so contagious.

"but if you wanna sleep then i'll just go with any one of them, i guess," he shrugged his shoulders with a nonchalant face but you knew he was internally begging you to come with. after all, you guys have been asking for this for the longest time.

you look at his hopeful face —one that he thought he was concealing very well— and sighed, flashing him a small smile. "fine, it's friday anyways so there's no school tomorrow. but you're buying me food tomorrow for postponing my catchup on beauty sleep," that is, if you can stomach the food, considering how you've thrown up almost anything you had for the past two days.

the thought of this mission going awry because of you being sick was almost immediately forgotten when you saw the huge smile on peter's face. he pulled you into a tight hug before letting go to jump on your bed. "we're finally gonna go on a mission alone!"

you laugh at his excitement though you wished he could lower down his volume because it was making your head hurt.

later that evening, you were in your room, sitting on the bed after having just finished putting on your suit when a knock was heard. after telling the person to come in, you met eyes with a certain blond haired super-soldier.

"hey, y/n." he greets, sitting down beside you. "hey, steve," you responded with a weak voice. he turned to you with a frown and you knew what was coming. "i'm fine, steve. i already had this conversation with pete. i just need sleep but i can get that after this mission. i'm not gonna be fine though if you wake me up at the crack of dawn to train when you know i just had a late night mission." you sassed, causing him to chuckle.

"okay, fine. i'm just worried about you two. you sure you're gonna be fine? don't need me to come along?" he asked, concern written all over his face.

"yes, steve. pete's been wanting a mission without you old folks for the longest time and i'm not gonna disappoint him by making you come along. we'll be fine, stevie. we're not little kids, we're avengers. we can handle finding a random chip in an abandoned building," you reasoned with him.

"it's not a rando— you know what? just be back home safe, okay kiddo?" he ruffled your hair, earning him a playful glare from you.

-

the swing trip to the mission location had you even more nauseous than you were earlier today and earlier today was worse than yesterday when the symptoms of your fever all started. you almost let go of peter because your body felt weak and now you were getting an earful from the boy.

"y/n, what were you thinking?! you could've gotten hurt!" he scolded you. you only looked down in guilt, biting the inside of your cheeks. "can we not do this now? let's talk about this back at the tower tomorrow," you waved him off, already beginning to feel the pounding headache getting worse. you started to walk ahead but then he gripped your upper arm, effectively halting you in your steps.

"y/n, if i hadn't grabbed onto you tighter the last minute, you could've plummeted 100 feet down to your death! did you know how scared i was?" his voice cracked and you immediately felt bad.

"you know you need to hold on too when i'm swinging us both! why'd you do that?" he yelled at you and you had to press onto your temple because of the headache that was steadily getting worse.

"look, pete, i'm really sorry about that, okay? that was unintentional but if you're gonna berate me over that, can you do that back at the tower?" you sighed, trying to shrug his grip off your arm but he kept it.

"you don't know the true weight of your actions, do you? you could've died, y/n! how do you think i would feel? being the reason my best friend died? having to go on with life without you? i can't lose you, y/n!" at this point, you could tell he was crying under his mask.

you felt bad. you knew you shouldn't have agreed to go on this mission knowing that you had been sick for the past two days. but you couldn't have let the opportunity pass. you couldn't bear to see peter disappointed after waiting for this moment for the longest time ever. but standing here, looking down as peter yelled at you while crying, you were starting to think that it was better to just see his disappointment. anything was better than seeing your best friend cry.

"pete, i truly am sorry. i love you and i would never leave you. but can we please get this mission over and done with so we can get back to the tower as soon as possible? we'll talk about this later," you told him and you immediately felt him let go of your arm.

"okay, fine! since you wanna get the mission done so bad, let's do it! i'll take the east side of the building and you'll take west. we'll split up so can find the goddamn chip quicker. that's what you want right?" and before you could say anything, the boy was already out of your sight.

you tried to keep your tears at bay but when that was the first huge argument you had with your best friend, it was kind of an impossible task.

so with your weak muscles and a breakdown that caused your headache to get even worse, you slowly trudged the west side of the building, looking for that stupid chip that the team wanted you to find.

you were beginning to think that the only reason the team sent you both here was because to find a tiny little chip in a huge abandoned building was like finding a needle in a haystack; definitely not something adults like them could bear to do.

but it obviously wouldn't have mattered to you and peter since you guys could do it peacefully without being pestered every two minutes about your whereabouts during missions. it obviously wouldn't have mattered to you and peter because if that argument hadn't broken out, you two would be enjoying each others company as you looked for the chip together. you could've been singing and joking around like you two wanted to. but of course that couldn't happen because of you.

you stopped in your tracks when a particularly harsh wave of migraine hit you, causing you to lean against the wall. your vision blurred as you tried hard to clear it but it wouldn't. your throat was dry and it made you think; when was the last time you drank water? you barely had energy in you from skipping meals due to your inability to stomach them.

now you were actually regretting coming on this mission. the last thing you saw was the dirty walls decorated with spray painted graffiti.

-

"oh my god, is this it? KAREN, is this it?" peter asked his built in AI. "yes, peter, this chip matches the picture that mr stark sent you."

"yes!" he cheered, grabbing the chip and storing it safely. "this mission probably would've been a lot more fun if y/n and i weren't fighting. we would've had so much fun. these walls had countless of stuff we could've laughed and joked about." the boy sighed before pressing a finger to his comms.

"hey i uh, i found the chip. where are you? we can go now." he said, waiting for you to respond. but you didn't. "c'mon, y/n, it's been two hours. you can't still be giving me the silent treatment, are you?"

silence.

"look, i'm sorry for lashing out on you but like you said, let's settle this at the tower. tell me where you are. i'll come get you and we can swing back as soon as possible."

silence.

"goddamnit, y/n! answer me!" he huffed out in annoyance. and when he was met with silence once again, he decided to have KAREN do a scan.

"y/n is at the exact same spot you landed on two hours ago." KAREN showed him the scan of the building and highlighted where you guys landed on two hours ago. he felt his heart race when you seemed to be lying on the ground, motionless.

"what's wrong with them, KAREN? why is y/n lying on the floor?" he asked in concern as he sped up to where you were. "y/n seems to have lost consciousness. according to FRIDAY, they have been showing symptoms of a high fever since yesterday."

peter cursed as he ran towards you when he saw you from afar. how could he have not noticed that you were sick? and it wasn't a simple cold but a high fever. now he was the one who felt bad. he should've suspected it from how different you had been acting since yesterday. that must've also been the reason you couldn't hold on to him properly.

he immediately crouched down to you when he reached you, examining your body for any external injuries. he cringed when he saw dried blood on the side of your forehead. you must've scraped it upon impact on the rough concrete.

"how long have they been out?" he asked KAREN as he picked you up. he proceeded to web you onto his body as extra precaution in case he accidentally let go while he swung. "approximately 2 hours, peter. right after you stormed away angrily."

"okay, KAREN, there's no need to make me feel bad. can you call mr stark?" peter asks the AI as he frantically swings you both back to the tower.

"kid? what's up? did you find the chip?" peter could hear the background rock music being lowered down and from the metal on metal clanking, he could tell tony was in his lab.

"i did but can you, uh, please get medic ready?" he was breathless as he kept swinging from building to building all while holding onto your unconscious body. immediately the metal tinkering sounds as well as the music completely stopped.

"what happened, kid? are you alright?"

"i'm okay, mr stark. it's y/n. they fainted." he told the man. "fainted?" the man exclaimed. "what happened? how long were they out?" he urged the boy and peter could hear that he was walking quickly and he assumed it was to get the medic team ready and to inform them of the situation.

"2 hours," he admitted quietly as he landed on the tower's hangar. "i'm here. i'm bringing them down now." he ran down towards the hospital wing with you in his arms.

once he reached down, he was met with the team waiting, worry etched onto their faces. wanda was the first to notice him and peter saw that her eyes were teary. before he could say anything though, the medic team appeared and proceeded to cut off his webs wrapping you to him. they immediately put you onto the stretcher and they wheeled you into the room, peter's gaze lingering on your unconscious self once he took off his mask.

"what happened out there, kid?" sam asked softly when peter slid down against the wall, staring expressionlessly at the wall across of him. "peter."

"we had a fight, okay!" he let out, taking the team by surprise because he was always such a calm and patient boy. they had never seen him this angry or upset since they first met him.

"we were swinging and their grip on me loosened so i got mad at them. but they kept pushing the matter aside like it wasn't a big deal, like it wasn't a life or death situation so i lashed out and decided that we should split up to look for the stupid chip since they wanted to get back to the tower so bad." he explained, eyes red as he had been crying a lot that night.

"i tried apologising like ten minutes after but y/n didn't respond so i assumed they were giving me the silent treatment but i found them unconscious two hours later. i'm so sorry," he apologised, breaking down as he put his face in between his knees to avoid looking at the team. they were probably mad at him for letting this happen to you.

"kid, why are you apologising? it's not your fault,"

he slowly lifted his head up, to meet the kind smiles of the team. "because the only reason y/n probably went on this mission was because they knew how much i wanted this. they put their own well-being aside just to make me happy and all i did was lash out at them."

"how were you supposed to know y/n had a high fever? we all didn't know either. it's not like we spend every waking hour with th—" clint was immediately cut off when nat nudged him with her elbow. peter had an unamused expression on his face. everyone knew you and peter were practically attached at the hip, always having training, and not to mention, school together. you two even spent your free time together.

"what clint means," nat glared at the archer. "is that it doesn't matter how much time or how little time we spend with y/n. that kid is stubborn as a bull. they could literally have been shot and we wouldn't know until we actually see the wound. my point is, y/n's the type that doesn't want to worry us. and you're their best friend, they knew how much you wanted this mission so that's probably why they didn't tell you. you can't blame yourself for this, peter."

"i know but they did this for me and i got mad at them. they're a much better friend to me than i am to them." peter dropped his head back down between his knees.

before any of them could respond, doctor cho approached them. "as you all know, they have a high fever. i suggest you all come visit tomorrow because they most probably won't wake until then."

"okay, will do. thank you, doc." the doctor smiled before excusing herself. peter then got up to go back to his room to wash up after handing tony the chip.

tony could only sigh when he looked at the boy's back that was growing smaller as he walked farther away.

-

the next day, you woke up with a terrible headache but you had gotten used to it from the past two mornings.

"good, you're awake. how do you feel?"

you squinted to get used to the bright lighting and your gaze settled on the female doctor by your bed with a clipboard. "like shit." you croaked out. she chuckled. "that's expected. your fever has calmed down now, do you feel anything else?"

"this headache makes me want to rip my head out and i feel weak." she nodded, jotting down on her clipboard. "okay. that's all i needed to know. you should come to us if you're ever unwell, y/n." you gave her a guilty smile before nodding.

"there's a glass of water on the table if you want. the team wants to see you so i'll send them in?" you nodded and she left to bring them in. you looked at the bedside table, seeing the glass of water she mentioned and only now you realised how dry your throat had been. how you managed to verbally respond to doctor cho, you didn't know.

you slowly reached out for it, struggling because your whole body felt weak. "y/n! stay in bed, i'll get it for you." you heard a stern voice scold and you immediately fell limp on the bed.

before you knew it, steve was already by your side with the glass of water. he held your face in one hand while the other held the glass near your mouth. you smiled gratefully and took your time drinking the water, having been dehydrated before you passed out.

"you're still burning up," he noted, settling down on the chair beside you. the rest sat down too and you couldn't be bothered to ask how the heck were there so many chairs in the room. "how are you feeling, y/n/n?" bruce asked, sitting down across steve.

"like shit." you repeated your answer to doctor cho. before steve could open his mouth to tell you to watch your language, you turned to him with a bored look and a raised eyebrow, causing him to close his mouth immediately. boy, were you scary when you weren't about to take anyone's shit.

"why didn't you tell us you were sick, bubs?" wanda pouted, fixing your hair that you were sure looked like a bird's nest at the moment.

"i didn't want to worry you guys. you're adults who have much more important things to worry about. a kid throwing up and experiencing headaches shouldn't be your priority." you admitted, subconsciously playing with nat's fingers. she had gotten used to you doing that when you were nervous or overwhelmed so she let you.

"what are you talking about, y/n?" she held onto your hand, stoping your movements. "anything related to your safety and well-being is a priority to us. you had us worried sick last night, bub." she looked down at you with soft eyes, releasing her grip on your hands so you could continue playing with her fingers.

"yes, you worried us lots, y/n. wanda would not stop crying last night when she heard what happened." vision said, prompting a smack from said woman and a hushed 'vis!'.

"i'm sorry, guys. i initially was just going to stay in my room until i got better but when peter told me about the mission, i couldn't bear to say no to him. he was so happy about it and i didn't want to disappoint him. and i thought i could take it because it literally was the simplest mission ever. but the breakdown i had after our argument was physically draining and i guess i couldn't take it. i'm sorry. god, i only didn't want to disappoint peter but now i've disappointed you guys too." you bit the inside of your cheek to control your emotions, not wanting to seem even weaker in front of these adult superheroes.

"you didn't disappoint us, y/n/n," bucky started. "you've done so well, you've made us proud and you keep making us proud. we just wish you would tell us when you're sick or you just need someone. you don't have to keep everything to yourself. what are we here for? we love you and we're willing to do anything for you. you're our baby." he ruffled your hair and you give him a tired smile. "i'll keep that in mind."

"do you want anything to eat?" sam asked and you paused, trying to figure out whether you would be able to stomach some food or not. "you know what? i'm gonna go and make you some porridge right now. don't move." he told you, as if you could move with these overprotective heroes surrounding your bed.

almost immediately after, wanda got up too. "i'm going to make sure he doesn't burn the kitchen down." she said, leaving the room after a small peck to the side of your head. vision then left too after wishing you a speedy recovery. only bucky, steve, natasha and bruce were left.

"y/n, you know you can come to us if you're sick, right? i know you and you probably think you're troubling doctor cho if you go to her despite it being her job. but we're family, you can come to us anytime. you always help me when with 'the other guy' and you help everyone with basically anything they could possibly need so why wouldn't we do the same for you? you out of everyone in this tower deserves the most." your eyes watered at his speech. you pouted and looked at him with your doe eyes, making the rest of the team internally coo at how adorable you looked.

"bruce," you lower lip jutted out even more as you opened your arms for a hug which he happily accepted. "hey where's clint, tony and pete?" you asked them once you let go of bruce.

"clint went out to get your favourite smoothie from that place you always talk about even though i told him already that you probably don't want it since you're sick." natasha explained. "aw, i think i'm gonna drink it solely because clint made an effort to get it for me."

"you're too nice, bub. but expect it in an hour or so because i know for sure that idiot somehow got himself lost trying to find that shop." you chuckled at this, leaning back against your propped up pillow. "what about tony and pete?"

"peter feels really bad about this whole situation so tony is trying to cheer him up. wait," steve stopped mid-explanation, turning to the rest. "stark told us to get him when y/n's up..." he trailed off and bucky's eyes widened. "he's gonna kill us for him not being the first person y/n sees when they wake up."

"FRIDAY, inform stark that y/n is awake."

"oh yeah he has an AI why couldn't he just tell the AI to inform him instead of us forgetful humans?" bucky questioned rhetorically and before they knew it, they heard frantic screaming and thudding of footsteps before the door was open.

"my baby! you're awake!" was the first thing you heard when the door slammed open. tony rushed in, pushing bruce away as he immediately pulled you into a hug. "you're still burning up, cupcake. have you had anything to eat yet? drank any water yet? here have some water," he grabbed the glass of water steve helped you drink earlier and did exactly what steve did. you had no choice but to drink.

"sam's making them porridge," nat told tony and he turned to her with an incredulous look. "wanda's helping." she added and he sighed out in relief before turning back to you.

"cupcake, you had us all worried last night. please don't ever do that again, okay?" he said, gently caressing your cheek. you gave him an awkward smile. "where's peter?"

"he's taking a swing. he says it helps clear his mind," tony said. "how are you doing here? nice room? comfy bed?" he pointed to the bed you were on.

"i'd much rather be in my own room, on my own bed." and without a warning, steve already had you in his arms while tony went to go tell doctor cho that you were being moved. the blond super-soldier started walking while natasha walked closely behind, dragging your IV drip along so it doesn't get ripped out of your arm.

when you reached your room, you were gently put down on your bed and steve fixed your blanket so it was covering you. "comfy?" he asked and you nodded with a big smile.

"i have to finish some stuff up down the lab," bruce said and you nodded at him with a pout. "i'll come back sometime later, though. you better be resting up all day." he warned jokingly. he ruffled your hair, planting a kiss on your forehead before leaving your room.

"can you tell pete that i want to see him when he comes back?" you told tony and he immediately sent out a text to your best friend.

after about an hour of just steve, nat and tony entertaining you, sam came back with wanda with the porridge and tony insisted that he feed you or you he wasn't going to let you see peter.

"alright, bub, i think you should really get some rest now. you can barely keep your eyes open," nat says, already getting up with your empty bowl of porridge. "we'll tell spiderboy you're asleep."

"okay," you mumbled, eyes already fluttering shut. you felt every single one of them give you a forehead kiss and then you were out like light.

when you woke up later that day, you felt much better than you did the last time you woke up. you decided that you now had enough energy to take a quick shower so you did. once you were done, you dried your hair while humming to a random song before the door opening interrupted you.

your eyes met with peter's guilty ones. "h–hey, you're awake," he stated and you nodded with a small smile, sitting on your bed and peter doing the same.

"look, y/n/n, i'm really sorry about what happened. i shouldn't have lashed out on you witho—"

"pete," you cut him off. "don't apologise. i'd be mad too if you did something as stupid as that." you reasoned. "yeah but it's not like you did it on purpose! you had a valid reason and i got mad at you for it." he spoke in frustration.

"dude, stop. i'm the one who's supposed to be sorry. i should've just told you i was sick. but i didn't want to upset you because you've been waiting for this for the longest time. but i ruined it for you. i'm sorry, pete." you rested your head on his shoulder and he rested his on top of yours.

"i wanna say that i'm the one at fault but then this conversation won't end until like next week so let's just say we're both at fault, yeah? you need to start telling people what's happening with you and i need to be better at reading you." he said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a hug. you hugged him back. "okay."

the door then opened, revealing bucky with his stupid shit-eating grin and you knew what was coming. you let go of peter and immediately you were lifted off the bed and over bucky's shoulders as he excitedly chanted about team movie night.

the night was spent watching a movie with the team you considered your family and them pampering you even more than they usually did (which, frankly, was still too much) since you were sick.

and right when the movie ended and everyone was preparing to head in, the door to the common room slammed open and a disheveled clint entered, holding a single cup of smoothie.

"got your smoothie, y/n/n!"

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Nemesis: Retribution (4)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOUR (18+ ONLY. I WILL BLOCK YOU), voyeurism, exhibitionism, authority kink, praise kink, spanking, slight dom themes, polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, angst, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, strong language, mentions of trauma, mentions of character death, fluff if you squint, 

A/N: Slowing it down just a bit to move plot along. Freaking out on the reblogs and comments are encouraged and will be rewarded with cookies. Seriously though, I love hearing what you guys think and use some of it to make the next chapters better. I adore you all! Have at it!

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:4 Apple Crumble

Steve Rogers had kindly offered for you and your team to stay at the Compound. For however long this mission would take, you were all going to start running straight at it early tomorrow. In terms of the mission, he was relieved to have your help. The sooner the serum was out of circulation the better and they truthfully did need your help. This underground world was more your scene now and you could better navigate it.

On a personal level, he was glad that you were sticking around even if it was on a contract. He would take whatever opportunity he can and make the best of it. That's how he's always been and he wasn't going to change that now.

He told himself that it was because he was the Captain that he was at your door this late after you all had agreed to part for the night. It was out of consideration that he carried with him some of his own clothes to offer you in case you needed something to change into. It was out of a need to clear the tension with you now that you were going to work as a team again that he was knocking on your door.

That was all.

You opened the door a moment later wrapped only in a short towel and with your hair still dripping wet from the shower. The smile that rose on your face was sly as you leaned on the doorframe with your arms crossed and your hip cocked to one side. He swallowed.

Maybe that wasn't all.

"What can I do for you, Cap?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was far too distracted by the little droplet that rolled down from your temple to the valley of your breasts. He shook his head and cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus only on your eyes and not the inappropriate answers that sprung to mind at your question.

"I brought you a change of clothes in case you need it," he managed to say. "And I wanted to talk to you if you're not too tired."

You opened the door wider and took the clothes from him without a word, turning into the room toward the bathroom. You casually dropped your towel to the floor and Steve choked at the sight of your bare back, a small set of black panties the only stitch you wore. The breath in his chest released only when you disappeared into the bathroom, the door cracked open offering him enticing glimpses as you moved around.

Steve hurriedly closed the door behind him and as he made his way further in, he caught sight of an open go bag beside your bed with clothes clearly visible. There was also a shirt and sweats beside it, the design he knew belonged to Pietro. He felt a little embarrassed. Of course Pietro would have already beaten him to it and that your team always came prepared. Still there was a satisfaction that bloomed in him when you stepped out clad in his shirt, the hem barely reaching mid thigh and bare feet soundlessly crossing the carpeted floor until you came to sit with him on the sofa. You tucked your legs under you and rested your head on your hand over the back of the seat.

"Gotta say I like this look, Steve," you grinned at him.

He chuckled, self-consciously rubbing at his beard and pulling at the hair at the back of his collar. The light dusting of red on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"What? You don't like the all American apple pie look?"

You hummed and took a leisurely look at him from head to toe. Rugged and imposing as he appeared, the heat on his face intensified at your obvious appreciation and the way you swiped your tongue along your bottom lip. You were biting your lip when your eyes met his again, trying to stop yourself from laughing at how flustered he was getting and how much you were enjoying it. You've always found Steve handsome and he made apple pie look damn good, but this look on him was just so dangerously delicious.

You had a type.

"I'm more of an apple crumble kind of girl. I like the texture better," you winked. "And I don't mind a little beard burn."

"Will your team mind that I'm talking to you without one of them here?"

You raised an eyebrow and held his unsteady gaze, clearly understanding he meant more than just your professional relationship with the three men.

"You're curious."

"It's none of my business. That's not what I came to talk to you about," he stammered, unaccustomed to how forward you were.

"What did you want to talk about then?"

"I wanted to apologize properly and thank you for agreeing to help."

You groaned and threw your whole body back on the seat, causing Steve's shirt to ride up just shy of completely flashing him. You sat back up and pinched the bridge of your nose, letting out a long breath. It was only the fact that it was Steve that you were even entertaining this conversation.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Steve," you firmly dismissed.

"I do, Nem. We all do."

"Fine. List down what you're sorry about. Let's go through it one by one or we can draw lots to make it interesting."

"Nem," he said, low and clear with warning yet imploring you to listen. "Can you take this seriously for one second?"

The ever present smirk on your face dropped as you sighed heavily and ran a hand through your hair. For the first time since he's seen you, your expression softened a fraction and a shadow of the person he used to know passed across your features.

"Listen to me, Steve. I don't blame any of you. I'm not angry at any of you. I honestly have no room for more anger even if I wanted to be."

In the beginning you were. There were days while you were getting tortured that you hated them while you pleaded to the heavens for them to rescue you. It had taken a decade and three incredible men for that inferno of fury to turn into a manageable bitterness.

"Do you know how tiring it is to be so fucking angry all the time?" you chuckled darkly. "It took a while, but I learned to prioritize what I choose to be angry about."

"Salvacion," he muttered and you nodded, your eyes staring blankly forward.

"I've carried that name for a decade, Steve. That asshole has to die by my hands."

Steve saw now how selfish he was for forcing the conversation with the purpose of earning your forgiveness. It was for easing his own guilt that he was doing it when instead he should have just been thanking you for what you did and had to endure.

"Why didn't you ever come back?"

"I tried, Steve. When I was recovered enough I tried to go back. Did you know my sister had a girlfriend?"

He shook his head, throat suddenly closing at the sight of absolute misery in your eyes. He regretted starting this conversation even more.

"Jill. She was amazing to Lily and she was like a sister to me too," you smiled a little, not in your usual sarcastic way but with a hint of gentle fondness before your expression hardened once more.

"I saw her and I just couldn't bring myself to face her. I'm the reason the love of her life is dead. I couldn't, Steve"

It started off with the fear that they might have killed Jill too. You told yourself you had to know, but truthfully you were trying desperately to find a connection to Lily. You found her visiting the graveyard, laying flowers on two stones and spending the afternoon sitting on the ground tearfully talking to the dead. The shame burned through you and from then on you made it your sole purpose to destroy the man who took Lily from you both. Until then you had no right to face her. You had no right to return to the life you once knew.

Steve noticed that you weren't crying although the look in your eyes was swimming with grief. He expected you to cry, but somehow seeing you with dry eyes only made you look more in pain. You only clenched your fists, your shoulders tense and your jaw stiff. Steve decided he would tell the others instead of having you go through this conversation again.

He would do that for you.

You woke up surprisingly refreshed the following morning, strangely lighter than you have felt in the past decade. You didn't expect for that talk with Steve to have such an impact on you. You smiled ruefully, remembering your many counseling sessions with Curtis before and that maybe you were finally seeing his point.

FRIDAY had directed you to the larger conference room for today's briefing session with the rest of the team. You were wearing another one of Steve's shirts paired with your usual cargo pants, a fact that didn't go unnoticed judging by the raised eyebrows and teasing smiles. Billy in particular was leaning in to whisper to Matt what was going on.

"You don't have to tell me. I can smell it," Matt chuckles, crinkles visible at the edges of his dark sunglasses. "His cologne is quite distinct."

You smacked Billy on the arm, but laughed with them as well before throwing a wink at Steve who proceeded to blush a deep red. As you took your seat, a cup of coffee suddenly materialized in front of you accompanied by Pietro's ever bright smile. You smiled gratefully and took a sip, eyes slightly rounding in surprise at the taste.

"You remembered how I took my coffee."

"I've forgotten nothing about you, little star."

You haven't taken your coffee that way in so long. It's been just strong plain black coffee lately, the lack of sugar and cream where you lived with the boys being a factor. It had seemed pointless to eat something sweet when there was a permanent sour taste in your mouth from life. Now though you couldn't seem to help taking one sip after another, licking your lips before going in for more.

Right now this tasted right.

You didn't notice that Billy was smiling adoringly at you and sharing a look of approval with Frank as the briefing began, happy that someone aside from him was spoiling you. You certainly didn't know that Matt was smirking because he heard your heart literally skip a beat at the sweet gesture.

It took hours for the meeting to wrap up, but there was still more to do before you could actually take action. A number of the Avengers were sent out to gather more intel while the rest would stay to make further preparations.

"I only really need to talk to Frank a bit more," Steve said as he approached your group. "Why don't we have Pietro show you guys around the Compound? There are some improvements I think you'll find interesting."

Your tour guide for the afternoon appeared beside you, taking your hand in his and bouncing on the balls of his feet in his excitement. He was just too cute that you couldn't help but let out a small smile. The effect he had on you remained it seems.

"A tour would be really helpful for me," Matt easily agreed.

"And I go wherever the pretty girl goes," Billy added, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

"Great. Surrender your weapons and you should be good to go," Steve asked with a pointed look at both you and Billy who groaned in answer.

Billy was ready with a string of complaints and counter arguments when the clang of metal on the glass conference table stunned him into silence. He watched in complete disbelief as you removed every gun and blade attached to your body, efficiently dismantling them and lining them up on the table.

"Is she?" Matt murmured, leaning closer to Billy.

"Yeah."

"All of them?"

"Yeah."

By the time you stepped back, there was practically a decent sized armory on the table. How and where you managed to fit all of it on your person was a mystery to them.

"You missed one," Billy said, snapping out of his daze.

He stepped in front of you and casually slipped his arm up the front of your shirt and under your sports bra. His fingers grazed unnecessarily close to your now hardened nipples and he simply winked when you raised an eyebrow at him. Billy pulled out two small throwing daggers soon after and placed them alongside your other weapons.

"Oh yeah. I keep forgetting about those," you chuckled.

"Do you always come armed to the teeth?" Bucky snapped, clearly bothered by the display.

"She doesn't want her team to carry extra ammo for her, Sergeant," Billy scowled at him, the obvious animosity surprising Bucky. When he turned back to Pietro, his expression was back to his usual playful one. "So how about that tour?"

Frank turned to Steve when you had exited the room. "You gotta teach me that trick, Cap."

"What trick?"

"First time in 10 years I've seen her take any kind of order without a knife fight first," he said, cracking a smile and shaking his head.

It turns out that coming back was doing some good for you and this made him more comfortable around the Avengers. He wasn't about to braid them friendship bracelets but he was less inclined to pop a cap in their ass. At least for the time being.

Walking around the Compound brought back some of that wonder you felt when you first stepped in, but it recalled everything you had lost. Sensing the sudden tension in you, Billy gripped you by the waist and pulled you into his side. He kissed your temple, a silent reminder of what you had gained.

Pietro had been an absolute sweetheart, specifically describing what was in the area for Matt's benefit and pointing out the changes to you. The training area was your last stop, the place you had spent the most time in during your short stint here. There were loud sounds coming from the area and walking in you saw fresh-faced recruits in paired off sparring sessions.

Your full attention was on Pietro as he happily listed off the new features and answered questions from Matt and Billy, the latter now in businessman mode as he thought of what he could implement for Anvil. You were having an unusually pleasant time until a familiar shrill voice demanded your attention.

"Well look what the street cat dragged in. Y/N?"

You knew that voice. A decade with torture and trauma included apparently couldn't change how much her voice grated at you. The cold smirk made a reappearance on your face as you slowly turned to face her, the three men with you were instantly alarmed at the change in your demeanor.

"Kim," you nodded.

"Thought you were dead."

"Thanks. Can't say I thought about you at all though."

"I see you're still pathetically clinging to Pietro."

"What can I say? He's really cute," you said with a wink at Pietro who seemed to enjoy the compliment.

She sneered at you, her irritation rising when you weren't backing down like you used to do. She couldn't quite put her finger on what had changed about you, but you seemed rougher around the edges and far too cocky for her liking. Luckily, she still remembered a sure-fire way to take you down a few pegs.

"I'm teaching a class on hand to hand combat. How about we show them a demonstration on what a real fight looks like?"

You giggled as your smile grew, a disturbing sight that made even Kim doubt herself for a moment. You nodded your head in easy acceptance and she looked like she was pleased at herself for getting this opportunity. Before you could step forward though, you found Matt's walking stick blocking your path.

"What? It's not assault if it's provoked," you grinned at the frown on his face.

He hated it when you found loopholes, but he relented with a heavy sigh. He was too used to this. He leaned toward Pietro and told him that he should inform the Captain.

"Get some snacks too, roadrunner," Billy chuckled, delightedly watching you strip off your shirt and walking confidently towards Kim on the sparring mats.

Pietro had returned a moment later after completing his task, actually handing Billy a bag of fresh popcorn. The smile on his face froze when he caught sight of your bare skin. So far all he had seen as evidence of your torture was what was visible on your neck and face. He had stupidly brushed that fact aside, too excited to have found you again. Now the vicious marring on your beautiful skin was a cruel reminder of their failure as your team. They had failed you.

He had failed you.

Back in the conference room, the same feelings were shared by two super soldiers. They had pulled up surveillance on the training area after Pietro's message, just in time to see you take off that shirt.

Bucky felt the air leave his lungs at the horrific sight. He was alive and you had paid a heavy price for saving him. He could barely keep his eyes on you, the shame burning through him. He didn't want to imagine the amount of pain you had to endure to sustain those injuries.

"Don't you people dare look at her with pity," Frank warned. "Those scars are a testament to her strength. She's damn beautiful."

Steve agreed. He'd caught a glimpse of your scars last night and jarring as they were, your complete lack of self consciousness to them just made you more alluring. Looking back at the screen though he was concerned that you could hurt yourself. Kim was a top agent now, high enough in the ranks to be training recruits and leading missions. She had proven herself deadly in combat, but the way you were grinning was chilling in itself.

"One question before we start," you said.

"What?" Kim scoffed, flipping her braided hair over her shoulder.

"When's your next mission?"

"2 weeks. Why?" she answered, perfect brow raised in confusion.

"Just calculating your recovery time," you shrugged. "I'm nice that way."

Kim predictably charged at you then, growling and cursing at you under her breath. You smirked, standard SHIELD movements were easy to read for you. You stayed completely still and relaxed in your stance as she lunged at you with her fist. You timed your movement precisely, sidestepping at the absolute last moment. One hand grabbed at the back of her head, forcing it down to ram against your oncoming fist with a sickening crack.

Broken nose.

Kim shrieked in pain as the blood gushed from her nose and she tried to pull away from you. You didn't let her. You pulled her down by the shoulder to bend her over before driving your knee up her midsection. She wheezed at the impact, the mat below her smattered with her blood.

Bruised ribs. Maybe slightly broken.

You unceremoniously threw her aside, letting her fall groaning on her side. You clicked your tongue, watching her struggle and turning to the class she was supposed to be teaching.

"Lesson 1, kids," you waved your hands in Kim's general direction. "Don't end up like that."

Broken ego.

You turned to go back to your boys when the glint of metal caught your eye. You tilted your head just in time for the dagger to zip past your eye line, only thinly scratching at your cheek. Your hands reacted on instinct, reaching for the small hidden pocket along the waistband of you pants. You flicked the thin blade with deft fingers, embedding on the mat and landing it purposely close to Kim's eyes that it cut through her fake lashes.

"Nem!" Steve's unmistakable voice boomed through the speakers. You had forgotten that they had FRIDAY everywhere. "We said no weapons."

You rolled your eyes and smiled cheekily at the cameras. "It's just a nail file. I don't like keeping blood under my nails."

"You call that training?" Steve groaned rubbing his eyes and turning to Frank.

"I call that anger management," Frank said, amused at how unpredictable to handle they already found you when they've barely scratched the surface. He noticed how Bucky looked furious, his metal hand clutching a little too hard onto the table. "Don't like what you see, Sarge?"

Bucky didn't answer. He didn't tell them that he didn't like what he saw because he knew he was a major contributor in what caused it. If only he had been kinder, gentler, more honest. Maybe things would have turned out differently.

He walked down the hallways much later gripping a first aid kit in his metal hand and nervously running the other through his cropped hair. The cut on your face was barely anything, but he needed an excuse to talk to you. He was afraid you would turn him away, but he was terrified that you wouldn't. He didn't know what to say to you. He didn't know how to begin to apologize for everything he's done. His palm grew sweaty and beads were beginning to form on his brow.

He was only a few steps away from your bedroom door and he was sorely tempted to turn back around when he noticed that it was cracked open and he could hear voices from inside. He should have followed his instinct to keep his distance but a high whine that definitely came from you pushed him to peak through the small opening.

What he saw made his already thumping heartbeat grow quicker. His eyes grew wide and his throat went dry. Whatever he was expecting, it definitely wasn't this.

You. Stark naked. Grinding your mound on someone's face.

You looked absolutely glorious as you wound your hips in your chase for release; head thrown, back arched, and lips in a dreamy smile. The view he had of you, facing him and deep into your pleasure, was enough to cause his pants to tighten. He couldn't see which one of your teammates was beneath you, the bedframe blocking his view. Whoever they were, Bucky was jealous. He wanted to taste you too.

He felt that stirring of longing again now as he watched you in the throes of passion with another man. He felt it the moment you stepped back into their lives. He felt it during the 10 years they thought you were dead. And he felt it when you were still in training as a recruit every time you smiled at Pietro and Steve.

You picked up your pace and he could see muscular arms reach up to grip your waist and pull you down harder. You were panting curses, your breathing turning erratic and Bucky could see your thighs begin to shake. The sight of you coming undone has to be the most entrancing thing he's ever seen.

Movement from you and your partner pulled him from the hypnosis caused by your erotic display. His face heated up, deeply embarrassed at having watched you for so long and finding enjoyment in basically violating your privacy. He was about to leave when the man whose face you had been riding, came up to kneel behind you.

He pulled your hips back against his own, sliding his hard length easily into your dripping cunt causing you to moan so deliciously that Bucky felt a shiver run down his spine. You reached your hand up to grip the back of his head, letting him bury his own in your neck as he set a languid pace with his thrusts.

Your head rolled to the side and your eyes opened, locking directly with Bucky's. You smirked and reached down to circle your swollen bud, pressing your back further against the hard body rutting behind you and purposely putting on a show. You winked at him.

He bolted out of there.

"That wasn't very nice, honey," the low voice was thick with lust in your ear. His breathing was growing labored too, finding your heat wrapping around him overwhelming.

"I don't see you stopping, Captain."

"How can I when you're gripping me so tight?" He snapped his hips earning a sharp moan from you. "Did you like that? Torturing my best pal with me balls deep inside you?"

You sighed and closed your eyes. Apple pie Steve wouldn't have whispered such sinful things to you, but this Steve could make you cum with just filthy words alone.

"Yeah, you did. Look at you clenching and soaking my cock from having Bucky watch you. You like being bad to him, honey?"

A sudden smack to your ass had you snapping your eyes open. He chuckled into your neck, biting down hard on the juncture as he felt you gripping him even tighter.

"Answer," he growled, landing a harsher smack to your bottom.

"Yes! Yes, Captain, I did."

"Good. Will you be good for me now, honey? You caused a bit of trouble today." His thrusting was still slow, making sure you felt every ridge and vein with each stroke as he drove you into a stupor. "Will you be a good girl for your Captain now?"

"Yes, Captain."

He smirked against your skin, pleased at your compliance. He was reveling in the power he had over you. Frank had said that you never took orders without a fight, but here you were being so good for him. Pliable. Yielding. He was enjoying it.

He gathered your hair in one hand and pulled, your back arching beautifully and emphasizing where his cock was buried deep inside you. With each thrust his cock came out glistening with your slick. The image made him lose control, abruptly escalating his pace to rail feverishly into you.

He had you gasping and clutching at the sheets instantly, begging for him to go harder and push you over the edge. He bent over you and reached around to rub furiously at your throbbing clit.

"Cum like a good girl, honey. Cum around my cock," he commanded. "I wanna feel you fucking drown me."

You came, lights dancing in your eyes and your head empty of all thoughts aside from the pleasure that racked your body. He followed soon after with a loud grunt, the sensation of you fluttering around him too much to resist.

He fell on top of you, spent and satisfied. Your sweat and heavy breaths mingling together as you both tried to return back to the world. You liked the heavy feel of him on top of you, strangely finding comfort in the weight.

He dragged you with him when he rolled off you, spooning you and planting kisses on the back of your shoulders that had your skin tingling from his beard.

"When are you going to put him out of his misery?"

"When it stops being fun?" you chuckled.

Steve wasn't going to push the issue. He knew that it was up to you whether you forgave Bucky or not and when that would be. It would be on your own terms how things moved. Just like what happened between you two. He wasn't expecting it, but the heated argument about the injuries you inflicted on one of his best agents had somehow escalated into him spanking you and you growing wet from it.

Not that either of you were complaining.

You turned around in his arms to face him, looking up at him with a taunting smirk. "You sure your old heart can take being in a polyamorous relationship?"

He chuckled and pecked your lips before going back in for a much deeper kiss that had you swooning. When he pulled back, he was looking at you lovingly.

"I'm known for waiting too long about things like this. I lost my shot at you 10 years ago. I'm not missing out on you again."

His words were firm and genuine. He honestly thought that he would mind having to share you with several other men. He thought that he would feel jealous and possessive. Instead, he felt reassured. He knew that wherever and whenever he lacked, someone else would pick it up and he would be the same. There was a sense of relief knowing that you would always be taken cared of by people who felt the same for you as he did.

"Well then you have some making up to do for waiting so long," you said nibbling at his lower lip.

He groaned and grabbed your thigh, hitching your leg up on his hip. Your thighs and core were still sticky and slippery from both your releases. His tongue dove into your mouth and he could feel you moan against his lips as he ran the tip of his cock against your still sensitive core. Your nails dug into his back as he sunk in, fitting perfectly inside you.

"You're running with a super soldier now, honey," he said, eyes burning with want. "I can do this all day."

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A/N: Some asked about Jill and Kim so here you go, lovelies. Come freak out with me in the comments and reblogs. Thank you all for the support! More coming soon. 

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[lilac-castle-in-the-sky]

Ulterior motives - part two

Summary: An unexpected opportunity and a hard choice to make, will the reader follow the path of the rightgeous or give in to temptation?

warnings: reader has a bit of a villain arc, swearing, violence, smut, unprotected sex, zemo eats ass, fingering, dirty talk, age gap, John Walker.

A small but important note: So apparently Daniel Bruhl is in my city this weekend to speak at some conferences at the Hay Festival and i only realized because i saw him today from afar just walking around the general vicinity where this is taking place and i got the feeling that if we made eye contact he would know so i spent the rest of my day feeling self-conscious about this fic lol.

Part 1

Sam and Bucky were mad at Zemo after his little stunt at Madripoor, you couldn't say you blamed him for his decision, or that you hadn't seen it coming, as soon as he started wandering around the lab, letting Sam and Bucky take control of the interrogation you knew he was plotting something, but by the time you tried to warn Sam it was too late.

At least he was consistent, you could admire conviction in a person, much like Steve Rogers, Zemo had a strict moral code he adhered himself to, albeit way less altruistic, few people from your old life believed in a thing the same way he did, and well, apart from Sam, so adamant about saving the little psycho running around playing revolution, you hadn't met anyone else who did.

Donya was your only piece of the puzzle now, but with the last couple of days being so intense with the traveling and fighting, you all agreed a few hours of leisure in the Baron's fancy apartment was much needed for the mission.

If Sam and Bucky had heard your nightly activities in Madripoor, they had said nothing about them, but this entire mission had you thinking about what you were going to do once everything was over and you had to go back to the States, and Sam, being the type of friend that he was, had noticed you were quieter than usual, so he waited until Bucky went out and Zemo occupied himself in the kitchen to take a seat next to you on the couch.

“Are you ok?” It was so weird to have someone asking you that question, even after all the time you spend with him moving from one place to the next, that kind of company and friendship still felt foreign.

“I told you I can handle Zemo, stop worrying” the man in question was currently opening and closing kitchen cabinets, mumbling about Turkish delights.

“You know I didn't bring you here to be my bodyguard right? Just for the muscle. I know you are having a hard time adjusting back in the States, i thought you needed the reminder that you did the right thing once and it was the correct choice”

“I know” you didn’t regret joining them when you did, or helping out with Thanos later, but the aftermath of your good choices had been unexpectedly underwhelming.

“But it is a choice you gotta keep on making, y/n” you groaned, falling back against the couch.

“I'm trying” you said, finally able to look Sam in the eye, his hands were full enough already, he didn’t need to worry about your own internal drama.

“Your boss told Sarah you threatened a client”

“He was trying to use an expired coupon and started calling me names when i wouldn’t let him!”

“it happens, i get it, people are dumb like that, but you can’t threaten every client that comes into the store with an irrational request” in your mind if you did it enough times maybe they would stop coming, but you could see how that would be bad for business.

“listen i know you have your own internal struggle with being Captain America and what not but….your government, they don’t want me to do good things, or to be the good guy, do you know how many times i found CIA operatives fucking shit up in other countries? If this is the correct choice, why doesn’t it feel like it?” he seemed to think about it for a second, sinking down into the couch with you, he gave you a soft smile and sat up straight with new resolve.

“I'll find something when we go back, I promise" he chuckled and stood up, giving you a friendly pat on the shoulder "If not for your sake, for your poor customers”

“Sam?" he turned around "thank you for worrying” you had the urge to say sorry too, but couldn't figure out why.

Bucky came back not much later, putting a time constraint on your mission with the information about the Dora coming to take Zemo, you were smart enough to know that wasn't a problem you could punch your way out of, either you found Karli or they would take your golden goose, Zemo however seemed not at all worried to have the Wakandans after him, which made you believe he had a plan.

you kept an eye on him on your way to the refugee camp, you knew he wouldn't try to scape until he could make sure the super soldier serum was destroyed, but he was also a methodical man, if he was going to scape he was probably already moving all the pieces on his board, and if he could plan 3 moves ahead, it was your job to plan 5.

You didn't see any harm in him wandering off to talk to the children, you hadn't miss the sadness in his tone when he explained the sweets he kept in a jar had once been his son's favorite, you knew what it was like to lose people you loved, the longing for the warm feelings they once provoked paired with the fear of losing it all over again, maybe that was the reason why you felt so uncomfortable with your new life, it was starting to resemble a life you had once loved and lost, you had always thought you weren't the kind of person to run away from your problems, but maybe you were wrong.

You realized too late of his true intentions, by the time you came close to the small group of children he had gathered, they were already running off with the pile of candy the Baron had used to bribe them, the smile he gave you as he stood up only confirmed the fact that he had managed to get the upper hand, so you returned to the apartment with no other alternative than to wait for the memorial service to happen.

Bucky went out again after losing his temper and breaking one of Zemo's teacups, you gave him a bad look as the super soldier left the place and then observed as Sam retired himself to one of the rooms to work on his wings, he definitely knew how to push their buttons, but he had yet to learn how to push yours. You took the cherry blossom tea he was offering and sat on one of the stools by the kitchen isle, observing him as you took a sip of tea with enough of a death glare to make him uncomfortable

“I don't expect your motivations to align with ours" you started "but Sam and Bucky are my friends, so if you do something to hurt them, or that could cause them to get hurt, i will make you pay"

He observed you, brown analytical eyes scanning your face, but your expression didn’t change, you needed him to know you were serious, and a few orgasms weren’t enough to make you forget who he was.

"Understood" he said finally, and took a sip of his tea, you nodded.

You hopped off the stool and looked around before finally deciding you were in the mood for a long bath, he had been spending a lot of time in that bathroom so the tub was probably heavenly.

“Do you have any clean towels in there? I want to take a bath” you asked, pointing to the door, the Baron’s head tilted as a grin transformed his lips.

“I know something to help you relax even better”

You laughed.

“An orgasm won’t make forget who you are, Helmut”

“Just one?” he teased, smiling even wider when he noticed the blush taking over your cheeks “my hours of freedom are counted y/n, won’t you grant me one last wish?”

“Depends” you said playfully as you approached him.

“On what?” he grabbed your waist to push you closer to him.

“On what I’ll get in return” you got close, lingering over his lips as a smile grew on your lips, his hands dug into your waist.

“I promise you’ll like it” his voice was a whisper, and then you were kissing.

Hungry, passionate kisses as he guided you towards the master bedroom and then into the bathroom, he kissed you like it was the last time, like the moment he let you go you would evaporate in front of his eyes, his hands moved up your body to cup your face and hold you in place when the need for air became too big to ignore, he kept you in place, foreheads touching as you recovered your breath.

You tried to take your clothes off, but he stopped you, gently lowering your hand he whispered close to your face “let me”

His eyes were very intimidating, in the best way possible, even while fully dressed his brown gaze made you feel completely naked. He didn’t take his eyes off yours as he took of your shirt, his stare only interrupted when he passed it over your head, he didn’t lose any intensity as his hands moved around your body and to your back, unclasping your bra, his fingertips dancing lightly over your skin as he took the straps off your shoulders, it was impossible to hide the shivers.

You kicked off your shoes when he started unbuttoning your pants, he pulled them down along with your underwear, maintain eye contact even as he kneeled in front you and brushed the tip of his nose lightly against your naked sex, with your center already throbbing with need, you gasped at the contact and he smiled.

“my turn” you whispered, pulling him up, he didn’t protest when you started taking of his shirt, looking straight into his brown eyes like he had done with you, you took your time touching the naked skin of his torso you hadn’t touched before, feeling the way his breaths got shorter and shallower.

You could feel his hardness pressing against his pants when you started to unbuckle his belt, you maintained his gaze as you lowered yourself, pulling them down along with his underwear and leaving his erect dick right in front your face, you took him into your mouth and it was him the first to break the eye contact, throwing his head back and whispering in sokovian.

You took in as much as you could and then backed away, working your tongue around his tip and sucking it, he opened his eyes to look at you again, he gathered your hair with one hand and started to guide you to take more of him, gently pushing you until you gagged, he let you go back to the tip before pushing you again to go further each time until your eyes started to water and his dick hit the back your throat.

He groaned, keeping you in place with your nose touching his base until tears blurred your vision and then let go, letting you work him with your mouth and hands pushing him almost off the edge.

“You have a sinful mouth, krasivaya” he pulled you up, wiping the last of your tears with a gentle hand “how should I reward it?”

He kissed you then and started to walk you to the shower, closing the glass door behind him, he turned you around and started kissing your neck, he reached around your body with one of his hands to pinch your nipple and used the other to turn on the shower, but not even the water suddenly falling over you was enough to distract from the way his mouth moved in your neck, on the weak spot right behind you ear as he switched his hand to give attention to your other nipple. You didn't realize the showerhead was mobile and he had taken it out of the base until you felt the water teasing your inner thighs.

the first contact of the pressurized water with your core almost made you come, you fell forward to lean against the wall, feeling Zemo pressing his body against yours to give you more support, he moved the showerhead closer to your cunt making an almost pathetic moan escape you lips.

He moved the shower head then to make the water fall all over your body, your shoulders and abdomen and your already weak legs before teasing its return towards your cunt, the feeling making your legs shake and then gone when he moved the shower head again. You felt his other hand over your body, washing you with liquid body wash, slowly torturing you with every brush of his fingers against your skin as he teased you with the pressurized water on his other hand.

You held onto his wrist to keep him in place.

“I thought you wanted to shower” he whispered in your ear, doing circular motions with his hand, making it harder for you to answer.

“I wanted to take a bath”

“Isn’t this better?” it was, it was a thousand times better, until he moved his hand again letting the water fall over your inner tight, you let out a pathetic whine.

“Fuck! Helmut, let me come please”

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” he aligned himself with your entrance and entered you as his other hand directed the water at your cunt again, you moaned, moving your hips to meet his as the combination of the stimulation over your clit and him going in and out of you pushed you over the edge.

He didn’t gave you any time to catch a breath, turning you around again he grabbed one of your legs and hooked it around his hips to give him a better angle, he grabbed your face to make you look at him and only then he entered you in one swift motion.

You gasped, eyes widening as your pussy stretched around his length, you tried to throw your head back but his grip on your face wouldn’t give.

“No, no, no, no look at me” he moved inside you, drawing pleasure from the way your expression colored with ecstasy with each thrust, he started to say things in sokovian you couldn’t understand, he leaned in to whisper them into your ear and the only thing you could master as a response was to moan his name "you're fucking beautiful like this"

He held onto you, going faster and deeper until you walls started to pulse around him again, he moved his hand between your bodies to rub on your clit, so very sensible and responsive, you came with a cry, an almost painful pleasure as he readjusted your leg to be able to reach that spot inside of you that made you keep seeing stars and prolonged your orgasm enough for him to release his seed inside.

He caressed your cheek as he dropped your leg to the ground, kissed you again and washed you and himself and held your hand to help you step out of the shower, he was a perfect gentleman and it confused you. How could someone so ruthless be so gentle?

“My clothes are in the guest room” you said, he wrapped a towel around your body and used it to push you closer to him.

“Does that mean I get to keep you here for as long as I want?”

“No” you tried to push him away, but failed when his head fell to your neck and he started kissing the weak spot behind your ear.

“I think it does” he kept on kissing you, pulling the towel until you both fell in the bed and kept kissing even then until you were both out of breath, tangled around each other.

You stopped for a moment, examining his face, you couldn’t resist the urge to pass your hand over his hair to mess it up, or descend your finger over the side of his face, feeling the stubble he had yet to shave, his head tilted to the side and you could feel the question coming.

“Would you take the serum if you had the chance?” It made you laugh despite the seriousness of his tone.

“I would be a menace” the old you would’ve taken it, it could make you job a lot easier, and having superpowers was objectively cool, but the new you thought about the consequences of her actions more thoroughly …sometimes “I don’t have enough trust in my good qualities to do it”

It was weird to realize how much you had learned about Zemo in so little time, he didn’t say anything, but looking at his expression you realized he believed you, and respected you for it.

“Are you really going to let the Dora Milaje take you?” you knew it was a bold thing to ask, and for a moment you thought he wouldn’t answer, but he did, being honest with you for whatever reason.

“I no longer have a country to serve or a family to protect, after my mission with Karli is done I’ll pay for what I did” you rolled over on the bed to look at the ceiling, you had told Steve something similar when you decided to follow him, wanting to redeem your past sins by helping them, Natasha had recognized the burden you were carrying and accepted you with open arms.

“I don’t have one either” you confessed “country or family. When this is done, I’m going to leave”

Perhaps it wasn’t such a great idea to open your heart to a man that used secrets to manipulate people, but he was the only person you felt good confessing your thoughts to, he didn’t say anything more, and you stayed in the bed looking at the ceiling until it was time to go again.

You found an unpleasant surprise on the way to the memorial, or rather, it found you. John Walker in the middle of the street in full clown costume, proudly displaying the shield he didn’t deserve on his back, helmet on like he expected to find himself in the middle of a fight at any moment for whatever reason, he walked towards you, laser focused on Zemo until he seemed to register the fact that there was a person in the group he had never met before.

Your luck had run out, sadly. John walker was the result of a machine constructed to protect the interest of a few at the expense of the many, and you would've felt bad for him had he possessed even an ounce of self-awareness.

"Who the hell is she?” with you right in front of his face there was no need to address the other men present.

“An independent contractor, who the hell are you?” It was impossible not to know who John Walker was with the propaganda machine working so hard to make him look like a hero, but you knew how much it would bother a guy like him if someone didn't know his name.

“Great, so you break Zemo out of prison and then hire a hitman” he didn't have to be an asshole about it, he chose to.

“Not a hitman boy, but i can be if you don’t get out of our way” you took a step towards him, but felt Sam's hand pulling you back.

“Not now” he whispered, you hoped it meant you could do it later.

Walker and Jenkins joined your group then as you followed the little girl Zemo had bribed to take you to the memorial, she led you to a back entrance, to a room full of old machinery and you kept quiet as Sam negotiated with Walker for some time to reason with Karli, you thought he needed to stop picking up strays and making them his responsibility, but you weren’t going to argue with him on it since you were currently one of those people.

Zemo got handcuffed to one of the machines, which got a chuckle from you, and then Walker started pacing around the room adjusting every button and belt on his uniform like he were about to face the Chitauri all by himself. He clearly had issues that the people in charge were apparently not interested in solving.

And then, he started to push Bucky, you were planning on staying quiet, not wanting to provoke a fight within the group while Sam was trying to do the right thing, but Walker started to guilt trip him, which you weren’t going to accept.

“Sam said to wait, so we wait, he can handle himself” Walker scoffed at you, but didn’t get out of Bucky’s face.

“C’mon Barnes, you know this isn’t right” you could see Bucky’s jaw pressed so tightly together his teeth had to be hurting, the plates on his metal arm shifting as he opened and closed his fist, he didn’t dare to look at you, and you knew he had made up his mind.

“You don’t need to go Bucky” you tried, but there was determination in his eyes when he looked in your direction.

“I trust Sam, I do, but I don’t trust Karli” you didn’t trust her either but you thought if someone could reason with her it would be him.

“You can watch him if you don’t want to come” Walker ordered, pointing in Zemo’s direction, who had been oddly quiet during the entire exchange.

You observed as the three of them went after Sam and took a deep breath, the plan had gone to shit in less than half an hour and now you were stuck as a babysitter. You turned to the Baron, everything was fucked up already, there was not much damage he could do.

"Do you need any help with that?" you asked, right as he freed himself from the handcuff, it had been naïve of Walker to believe a former high ranking military officer like him would be stopped by a pair of handcuffs.

"No, i will present however, my most sincere apologies" it took you a second too long to register his words, by the time you processed what was happening he was already bending your arm behind your back and securing your wrist.

"what?” you should’ve expected something like this to happen, ending up in handcuffs was entirely on you, you reached for your gun as the Baron ran out of the room “fuck you!" by the time you fired the first bullet he was already out of sight.

It took you all but thirty seconds to get rid of the handcuffs and run after him, the place was a maze, corridors leading into closed rooms or circling back to the start, you had to stop and take a deep breath to pay attention to any sounds that might alert you as to where everybody was, You sprinted towards the gunshots as soon as you heard them, gun in hand ready for the action.

It took you way too long to find the room where they were coming from, which was now quiet as Walker stood over a mess of broken vials and Zemo seemingly unconscious lying on the floor.

He gave you a death stare as you approached, relieved – much to your own concern- to see the Baron’s chest going steadily up and down.

“I thought i ordered you to look after Zemo” either the man was provoking you on purpose, or he didn’t think you would actually do something no matter how many times he poked the bear with the stick.

“I'm not a babysitter and I don't take orders from you”

Sam and Bucky entered the room before Walker could respond or you could make the threat that had been lingering on your mind, they looked at Zemo, at the mess on the floor and Walker’s barely contained anger. You were relieved to see them well, things hadn’t gone according to plan, but it could’ve been a lot worst.

You regrouped at Zemo’s apartment, the Baron laid on the sofa putting ice on his cheek after having taken a pill for the headache, but even then, and he couldn’t keep himself from speaking. He asked Sam the same question he had asked you earlier, he didn’t hesitate in his answer, but you already knew he had that conviction with him, you admired him for it.

You listened in silence as the two of them discussed Karli and the serum. She was on the run again, but at least there was no more serum for her, or anyone else, to misuse, Zemo had completed his mission.

“Something’s not right about walker” Bucky entered the room announcing what everybody else already knew, and proceeded to blast Sam about giving up the shield again, you leaned against the kitchen counter, observing their exchange with a tired expression.

The repetitive discussion was interrupted by Walker barging inside the space like it was his own, demanding for Sam to turn Zemo in to him, the Baron stood up from the sofa as the brand new Captain America threatened Sam, you almost wished for a fight to break out so you could have a valid excuse to punch him the face.

Sadly for you, the Dora stepped in before anything could happen, entering the room with the spears looking regal, you were jealous of them when the fight broke out and they started kicking John’s ass.

“We should step in” Sam said, but you and Bucky were enjoying the show quite a lot. Not to mention you weren’t about to fight a Dora for John Walker.

Bucky gave in eventually, stepping in to help stop the fight, Sam jumped into action as well and you sighed as you observed the bodies flying around knowing you would have to step in sooner or later, except something caught you eye.

He thought nobody would notice him sneaking away in the middle of the chaos, but you did, or perhaps he expected you to notice, perhaps he wanted you to. You followed him inside the bathroom, gun drawn out, unsure of what to do, you had never expected this mission to bring you to the place you currently were in.

Zemo was waiting for you when you opened the door, he didn't look surprised at the gun you pointed in his direction and stood calmly as you took in the scene inside, the bathtub was pushed to the side revealing a tunnel in the ground, your mouth opened and then closed, knuckles turning white around the gun as you pondered what to do, a single word from you and Zemo's scape would be over...and yet.

“Step away from the tunnel Baron, or I will be forced to shoot you” your voice was firm despite the insecurity in your stand, something he picked up on, as well as the fact that you let the door close behind you.

“Ah, but those are not your only choices y/n, are they?”

Choice.

The world had changed so much it felt like a lifetime ago when you had decided it was worth leaving the life you knew behind to follow Steve Rogers, that world no longer existed, the person you were then no longer existed either. You couldn’t just go back and try whatever life Sam thought he could help you live, not in the store accepting insults with a smile, or working as tool for his government doing all the dirty work and being called a hero for it.

You hated being reminded of your own insignificance in the grand scheme of the world, but that was exactly the way you were feeling then, like your destiny was not your own, it was a feeling you didn’t want to get used to, a feeling you would have to live with if you stayed.

A choice.

Your life had been full of bad choices, forced choices you had to make to survive, and then the one you had made because it felt right, the one that had brought you here, Sam had said doing the right thing was a choice you had to keep on making, except the right choice wasn’t always so clear.

“With my resources and your contacts we can disappear, you know they will never let you free”

Sam may have good intentions, but your destiny wasn’t his decision, your stay in the US depended on the government’s hyper vigilance of your every move, after all you were just a foreign mercenary.

You lowered your gun took your phone out of your pocket and the intercom from your ear and placed it on the bathroom counter, was this the right choice? Was this just an easy way out for you? You bite your lip, listening to the commotion outside, you were going to miss Sam and Bucky, but leaving them behind didn’t have to mean a step back for you, this could be your next step forward.

You didn’t know into what, but you had to try.

The Baron extended a hand towards you and you took it, standing on the edge of the tunnel looking down into the darkness, you felt something hard pressing against your lower back, Zemo’s eyes were dark when you met them.

“I don’t take betrayal very well” he gestured towards all the things you had left behind, everything they could use to track you “is that everything?”

You grabbed the barrel of the gun and forced it away from your body without breaking from his eyes “I have made my choice”

He smiled then, a polite charming smile like he hadn’t just threatened you a few seconds ago.

“After you, dorogoya”

You jumped in, falling into the dark uncertainty with one of the most dangerous men you had ever met, not knowing where or how your partnership was going to end, if ever. Perhaps it would be an amicable goodbye, or perhaps a big fucking mess, but you had made your choice, and now had to live with the consequences.

[mypoisonedvine]

A Rare Brew (dark!Steve x Reader oneshot)

Summary: The second he met you, Steve sensed your innocence.  So shy, so adorable, and so perfectly sheltered.  He knew instantly that he had to have you, that you would be the perfect blank slate to train into his obedient slut.  And the first real step of his plan began once he finally got you to join him for a drink.

Warnings: heavy dub con (if not non con), sex pollen/drugging, stalking

Word Count: 3k

(cause sometime you need to write something with a naive reader and manipulative, creepy Steve, so you do it in two hours and post it immediately)

“Drink?!” you replied incredulously to his proposition.  Sure, he’d been hanging around your desk from time-to-time since you’d begun working as a graphic designer in Stark Tower, but you still never expected for Captain America to ask you on a date.  That’s what this was right, a date?  That’s what “join me for a drink” meant?

“It doesn’t have to be alcohol.  Do you like tea?” he asked.  Of course, he already knew that you did, because he’d been tracking your every move for a month now, but he feigned ignorance.

“I do,” you answered.

“Me too,” he smiled.  “I’m sort of a tea snob, actually.  I have some unique blends that I keep in my kitchen.  It’s the one thing I spend a decent amount of money on.”

“I don’t want to waste your expensive tea,” you blushed.

“Sharing it is anything but a waste.”

You hesitated, finding it all a little too good to be true, but decided that moving to New York was about trying new things and experiencing life to the fullest-- so why not?  Plus, free tea!

“Sure,” you smiled shyly, “I’d love to have a cup with you sometime.”

“Why not tonight?”

“Oh, I’m sort of busy…”

“You have plans?  With somebody else?” he asked in a way that felt a little aggressive, like he was accusing you of something.  He knew you didn’t have plans, which was the real cause of his change in tone, but you didn’t realize that and let him call your bluff.

“No, I-- it’s fine.  I can work hard this afternoon and finish everything.  Can my keycard even get me up to your floor?”

“Yeah, I’ll have somebody update your clearance in the database,” he offered.  “I’ll leave you be now, so you can finish your work… don’t be late.” “Of course,” you nodded, watching him get up from where he was sitting on your desk before turning back to your screen and continuing progress on the logo you needed to finish.

~

You wished you’d dressed differently today as you rode the elevator up to Steve’s quarters.  You hadn’t realized this morning that you’d be on a date with Captain America.  You would’ve worn something fancier, flashier, and not your current, preppy-yet-plain work outfit.  You were surprised that he would even want to go out with you when you were dressed like this.

“You can set your bag down on that table, if you’d like,” Steve offered when you stepped into his open door.  He must have seen you clutching it for dear life.  “You seem a little nervous.”

“I am,” you admitted.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he laughed, and you couldn’t tell if he meant “don’t be sorry” or “don’t be nervous.”

“I feel a little out of place knowing I’m in Captain America’s kitchen,” you explained.  It was nice-- everything was steel and sleek.  Unexpectedly modern for a guy like him.  You wondered if he was actually able to pick it out himself or not.

“You’re not out of place.  This is exactly where you belong,” he dismissed.  “So, I’ve got a whole cabinet of teas… you can try anything you like.”  He opened a door to reveal an extensive collection-- bags, looseleaf in jars, even an array of decorative steeping tools and a mortar and pestle. 

“You really are a tea snob!” you exclaimed.  

“You like it?”

“I don’t even know where to start,” you sighed.

“I do,” he grinned, reaching for a small black box.  He opened it to reveal a few small bags.  “I just picked this up recently.  It’s incredible.  If you’re a serious tea addict, this is the next step on your journey for sure.”

Just looking into the box, you could smell the aroma a bit.  “It’s strong.” “Yeah, but there’s a mildness to it, too.  You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, sure,” you smiled, “I’ll try it.  You’re sure you don’t mind?  It looks really expensive.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he waved his arm, pulling out a bag and closing the lid.  

“You aren’t having any?” you asked.

“No, I’m gonna keep it simple tonight.  I just want to watch you experience this.”

You were a little confused by that but said nothing, moving to take a seat at his dining table as he picked out a mug for you and filled it with water from the kettle.  

He steeped the bag for you, and you were shocked when he brought the mug only to see a deep red liquid inside.  “I didn’t expect it to be this color.” “It’s the rosehips.  And I bet you can smell the ginger.” “But there’s something else in it…” you realized as you let the steam rise into your face.  “Is it… cayenne?” “Damn,” he laughed, “you know your teas.  I was hoping to surprise you with the spiciness, but oh well.”

“It’s not gonna melt my face off or anything, right?”

“No, no, it’s just a little heat in the back of your throat.  Nearly an aftertaste.”

You felt a little awkward as you realized he was staring at you while you went for your first sip.  It was just a little too hot to drink but you kept on anyways.  It was delicious, that much was obvious from the moment it hit your tongue.  Swallowing it was what brought the heat he’d mentioned, though it was stronger than he described.  Not too spicy, thankfully, but it was definitely apparent.  There was something unexpected about the flavor.  Maybe it was just the way the natural acidity of the ginger mixed with the spiciness of the cayenne.  There was an earthiness to it as well, moreso than you were used to from rosehips.  

You didn’t notice the sweetness until you had swallowed your sip completely-- it was that kind of sweetness that you could only taste on the sides of your tongue, bright and fruity.

You looked to where Steve was watching you expectantly and gave him an approving nod.  He smiled.

“It’s good,” you informed him.

“Just good?”

“No, it’s… it’s really good.  It’s great.  I’m still processing it, honestly.  It’s very complex.”

The mug was half-empty when you started to feel… off.  Tea always warmed your chest from the inside out, but suddenly the warmth was beginning to spread.  You didn’t even notice it until you started to feel a little light-headed, like you had just woken up from a dream, or maybe like you were just beginning to have one.

Steve was talking about something but you couldn’t pay attention anymore as you tried to understand what was happening.  You felt like you needed to go to the bathroom, or maybe you needed to take a cold shower, or maybe you needed some air… but you really, really needed something.

You realized that Steve wasn’t talking anymore.  You looked to him and saw him staring at you, his eyes trailing to your chest which heaved with quickened breaths.

“Steve, what… what’s happening?” you whimpered as you felt your knees shake a little, your whole body becoming weak and tingly.  Your core ached in a way you didn’t understand, and you pushed your thighs together without realizing you were doing it.  

“Is the tea getting to you?  It’s a very rare brew... I’ll admit I’ve never tried it before.  I didn’t realize it would be so fast-acting,” his eyes got a little darker and his voice got deeper as he watched you unintentionally roll your hips against the chair, “or so strong.”

“What’s in this?” you asked nervously, staring at the mug as if it would suddenly reveal its own contents.

“Exactly what I said was in it: rosehips, ginger, cayenne.  I just forgot to mention the black market aphrodisiac.”

You whimpered in fear, your hands gripping the ceramic so tight that your nails dug into your own palm.  You felt hot, suddenly, and yet you found yourself wishing Steve was standing closer.  Your eyes trailed over his body as they welled with tears.

“Don’t worry!” he piped up.  “It’s organic!”

“I don’t feel well,” you murmured, “I don’t… I need to go…”

“No, baby, you need to stay here,” he cooed, moving closer to you and sliding an arm over your shoulders.  His touch made your skin erupt with goosebumps and you suddenly wished that you weren’t wearing a cardigan and that he was touching you with nothing in the way.

“S-steve?” you whispered.  “What… why?”

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you, okay?  You’re gonna feel so good.”

You knew he was right, and even as a little part of your mind was screaming that this was not right, that this was not going to go well, you melted into his touch as he scooped you into his arms and carried you to his bedroom.

You whimpered as he set you down on the fluffy quilt, feeling like a doll in his strong grip.

He reached up to push off your cardigan and start unbuttoning your blouse.

“Steve, what-- what are you--” you gurgled.

“Shh,” he soothed, but refused to explain.  He pushed open your shirt to find your nipples visibly hard through your bra.  “Oh, baby,” he praised, “you’re so needy, huh?  You want me so bad.”

You yelped when he grabbed your bra and tore it open from the front, exposing your breasts to the colder air.  And yet his hands were so warm, hot even, as they grabbed them and massaged them and traced over your nipples.  It felt good, nothing like you expected it to.  You hadn’t even realized it could feel good to be touched here.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, “been thinking about these since you first came in for that interview.  Did you even realize how perfect your tits looked in that dress?”

You had no earthly idea what he was talking about.  And it scared you, even as your body begged for more; your back arched, pushing your chest into his hands.

“How do you feel?”

“I…” you began, unable to find the words.  “Sore.  Achy.  It hurts.”

“Where does it hurt, baby?”

You blushed but couldn’t answer.

“Does it hurt between your legs?” he asked with a low voice.

“Yes,” you admitted, “please, Steve, help me.”

“I’m gonna help you, I promise.  Gonna make you feel so good.”

His hands moved down to your skirt which he pushed up to find white cotton panties-- soaked as you squirmed under his touch.

“Oh,” he groaned, clenching his jaw, “no wonder it hurts.  You’re dripping.”

He reached down and pulled the fabric aside, nearly coming right then and there as he saw your perfect little pussy; he had to look away for a second to compose himself, before turning back and biting his lip as he rediscovered it all over again.

“So wet,” he purred, “so wet for me.”  He slipped a finger over your folds and you gasped, your legs kicking a bit.  

“I’m not supposed to…” you began with a whimper.  “I’m not supposed to let people touch me there.”

“Almost,” he nodded.  “You can’t let anybody but me touch you here.  Do you understand?”

No, you thought silently.  “Yes,” you answered aloud, fearing the response to any other answer.

“Good.”  His finger suddenly moved to something that made your leg jerk as pleasure jolted through your body.  He touched it again and you moaned before you could stop yourself.  You tried to ask him what was going on but he just kept going, drawing little circles around the spot, until you were a total mess with no shot at forming sentences any time soon.

Something was building in you, something so powerful that you couldn’t keep from moving your hips against his hand and you couldn’t stop yourself from gasping and moaning desperately.  Suddenly, his hand pulled back and you bucked up against nothing.

“Why… why did you stop?” you asked breathlessly.

“You were about to come,” he explained.

“I was?”

“Yes, but you have to ask my permission before you do that.  Okay?”

“O-okay,” you nodded.  “Will you… touch me again, please?”

“Hmm…” he considered.

“Please, please Steve, touch me more,” you whined, “I’ll be good, just please--”

He finally acquiesced and began rubbing circles around your clit again.  “I know you’ll be good,” he praised, “you’ll be good and come for me, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I will,” you promised with a sob.  He wrapped his other arm around you and pulled you close until you were surrounded by him, your face buried into the crook of his neck.

“Say my name when you come,” he demanded.  “Always say my name when you come.”

“Can I?” you murmured.

“Ask nicer,” he instructed.

“May I please come, Steve?” you repeated, louder.

“Yes,” he hissed, and his name poured from your lips in a chanted moan as you came, your whole body tensing up all at once as electricity tingled across your skin.

Only for a second did you feel relief before the feeling of need got even worse.  “Do it again,” you demanded, “make me come again.”

You were sobered out of your trance with a restrained slap across the face.  You gasped as your eyes shot open.  “Never tell me what to do,” he barked.  “You take what I give you, okay?  I know what you need.”

“Yes, Steve, I’m sorry,” you whimpered, eyes welling with tears.  

“I forgive you.  Now lay back.  I’m gonna make you feel good again, but I’m going to do it my way.”

You were apprehensive but felt you had no choice but to do as he asked.  You laid back on the bed and watched with wide eyes as he stripped, pulling off his t-shirt and making quick work of his boots, belt, and jeans.  You gasped when you saw the shape of his cock through his boxers.  

“Have you ever seen a cock before?” he asked with a serious tone.

“Once,” you admitted.  “On a dare.  I watched porn.”

“Then you know what I’m going to do with this,” he presumed as he rubbed the shape of it through the fabric.

“You’re… you’re going to put it in me,” you realized with a gasp.

He pulled his boxers down to reveal it in its full glory and you scrambled backward on the bed.

“Steve, it’s too big,” you whimpered, “it won’t fit.”

“You’d be surprised,” he laughed, climbing on top of you and pinning you down.  “It’s what it’s made for, doll, it’s what you’re made for.  You can take it.  You will take it.”

“Steve, I--” you whimpered, but he was already touching you down there again and suddenly you couldn’t think straight.

He slipped a finger into you and hissed at the feeling of your soaked walls fluttering around him.  You bit your lip and tried to focus on anything else.

“You’re so tight,” he praised.  “Too bad it’ll go to waste; with a cock like this, it really doesn’t matter.”

You nearly screamed as he pushed into you.  You felt like your whole body had to relax to fit him and even then, you felt him molding you to his shape, stretching and opening you to his will.

Your head was spinning from the unbelievable mix of pleasure and pain, satisfaction and need, fear and hope.  

When he was finally sheathed inside you entirely-- a moment you thought might never arrive-- he stilled and let his head fall back with a choked moan.

“God, it’s so good.  You’re so good.  Knew you would be.”

You could only choke on nothing as he pulled back out only to slam back home.  He moved with slow but deep thrusts, pulling noises from you that you couldn’t even believe were originating from your body.  You grabbed onto his arms and gripped them for dear life as his movements rocked you on top of the bed.  You could feel how wet you were, you could hear how wet you were, as he slid himself into you each time.  He looked down at you and smiled at your flushed face, hair sticking to your skin from a thin layer of sweat, eyes wrenched shut yet mouth fallen open into a perfect little moan… you looked exactly how he’d pictured you that first time he met you.  You were exactly as perfect as he’d imagined.

“Steve, Steve, I need to--  please let me--” you whimpered.

“Not yet,” he frowned, and you whined with frustration.

“Please,” you cried.  

“Don’t beg,” he sternly warned.  “It’s unbecoming of a lady to beg.  I’ll let you come when I’m ready for you to come, alright?”

“Yes, Steve,” you sighed, putting all your energy into holding back the wave of pleasure threatening to break through at any moment.  His own moans got louder as he started moving faster inside you, balls slapping against your ass with a lewd clapping sound.

He could feel how badly you needed to come, but he needed you to prove you could be good for him and obey.  “Fuck, baby,” he cooed, “so good.  Fuck, just hold on a little longer.”

“Steve, please,” you sobbed.

“Say that you’re mine,” he growled.  “Say that you belong to me.”

You blushed just hearing it, but you knew that the time for pearl-clutching had long since passed.  You would do anything to come at that moment.  

“I’m yours, Steve,” you sobbed, “I belong to you.  Please let me come.”

“Fuck,” he moaned in approval, “so good.  Just like that.  Say it when you come.  Say it when I come inside you.”

“Steve!” you cried out.  “I’m yours, please!”

You lost track of what you were saying as he slammed into you so deep that it made your head hurt.  All you could understand was the feeling of his cock flexing inside you, painting your walls with an absurd amount of thick, hot cum.

He moaned your name as he did it and you felt dizzy.  He stayed like that for a while, holding you down even as you tried to squirm away to avoid the overstimulation of him inside you.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he pulled out, leaning back to watch his cum drip out of your hole.  He felt a sense of accomplishment as he compared how your pussy looked now to how it had when he first saw it.  There was a tinge of guilt for ruining you so thoroughly, of course, but pride as well.

“Why do I still feel funny?” you groaned as he laid down beside you.  “I thought it would go away, once you… did that.”

“Oh, it lasts all night,” he shrugged.  “Don’t worry, I just need a few minutes to recover and I’m gonna fuck you again.  At least, as long as you ask nicely.”

[mimisempai]

I will always wait for you

Summary:

Sometimes to work out his nightmares, Sam goes flying and Bucky waits for him, knowing that he will always come home.

🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈

To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.

Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31925692

1719 words - Rating G

As Bucky slowly awoke from his sleep, he became aware of three things. The first was the absence of a warm body next to him, the second was the morning light streaming in through the open window, and the third was a small post-it note, lit by the ray of sunlight and lying on the pillow where Sam was not.

He took the post-it and read what Sam had written. It was short, and exactly what Bucky had expected.

Bucky,

I had a bad night. I needed to go flying.

I love you,

Sam

Taking a quick look around the room, he saw the briefcase that contained Sam's armor opened which confirmed what Sam had written to him. Shuri had done a good job of allowing the armor to have multiple appearance options, so Sam regularly went flying just for fun or often to clear his head, as it was now the case.

Bucky quickly understood that it was not because Sam didn't want to see him or couldn't stand his presence. Sometimes Sam just needed that to feel better, to fly free, without purpose or mission, to exorcise the demons that haunted him. Bucky better than anyone could understand that.

Bucky decided it was time to start his day.

After making the bed and changing into a casual outfit, he headed for the kitchen, stopping to look at the pictures that filled the hallway wall.

There were family photos there, both blood-related and not, many of them taken by Sam. He ran his fingertip along the frame of a photo taken on their wedding day. A rather cute photo that the photographer had been desperate to take, Sam smiling, his face framed by Sarah and Joaquin kissing him on both cheeks, each on one side. Sam's sister Sarah had welcomed Bucky into their family, no questions asked, and Joaquin, Sam's teammate had become like a little brother to Bucky.

Bucky, who had been alone for so long, had found happiness with this family, he was bound to them with a bond stronger than blood.

He couldn't help but smile when he saw this picture and the one next to it where he and Sam were supposed to be looking at the camera, but were looking at each other. Bucky was happy to see Sam's smile immortalized in this picture. But his throat tightened every time he saw his own face in that picture. He looked so happy.

A happiness that at one time in his life he never thought he would have.

Sam was everywhere in their house.

When Bucky arrived in the kitchen, he saw his breakfast tray ready, as they had always done for years, the first one to get up would prepare it for the other. This morning there was a can of coffee he didn't know about. Bucky removed the post-it note stuck to the can to read it.

Carlos said that your coffee hasn't been delivered yet, but I found one that tastes almost the same. Try it. Or throw it away and get a Starbucks if you're not happy.

Love.

He put the post-it note in his pocket with the first one he'd found on the pillow.

When Sam had become Captain America ten years ago, knowing that Bucky had chosen to stay in Delacroix most of the time unless there was an urgent mission that required his skills, they knew they would have complicated schedules. Sam would regularly have to leave unexpectedly, without them necessarily having a chance to say goodbye.

So Sam had started leaving post-it notes, and Bucky was responding to them. Over the years, this has become an essential part of their relationship. Not just for urgent matters, but also for general messages, and sometimes just a gentle thought written down for the other to find later.

Bucky sipped his coffee, which he had to admit was not bad at all. He looked at the calendar hanging on the wall with scribbled events and Sam's work schedule for the week hanging next to it. He saw that Sam would have to leave for periods of several days, lots of events and press conferences. He was disappointed for a brief moment, as they would not see each other for several days. Some might say that he had got used to it, but for him it meant that after ten years the attachment was the same if the thought of Sam's absence had that effect on him.

But he wanted to make their lives more pleasant, as Sam did, so he went to get the ingredients for some muffins. Chocolate chip muffins were Sam's favourite. Bucky had discovered a passion for cooking. Well, especially when it came to cooking for Sam. The others...

He took one for himself, then packed the others in a plastic box, and stuck a post-it on it telling Sam that he would be of no use to anyone if he starved.

After folding the laundry he decided to sit in the living room and read, today was a day of rest for both of them after all so he was going to enjoy it.

After two hours of reading, Sam wasn't home yet, but it wasn't nearly long enough to start worrying. Maybe he had decided to visit friends or family. But it was more likely that he was flying high in the sky. He had once told Bucky that there were only two things that made him forget his nightmares: flying and Bucky's arms. Too bad he didn't wake Bucky up and let him help him with the second.

Looking for something to distract his mind, he took the small notebook that Sam had given him the other day. He had seen that the previous one was full. Sam had given him the first notebook 10 years ago, to replace Steve's. He told him that since this was a new life, he should have a new notebook to fill with positive things. Since then, Bucky had been writing down things he wanted to do, visit, eat, listen to. This was his second notebook. As he flipped through it, he found a new little post-it note

I took the liberty of adding a few lines... I hope you won't mind.

I love you (so much more than 10 years ago and less than tomorrow.)

Bucky smiled, feeling moved, and ran his fingers over the notebook, tracing the familiar curves of Sam's writing.

Then he went to the last page where Sam had written something.

-Listening to Trouble Man (You stubborn old man)

-Trying a new delicious recipe for Sam (though nothing outdoes your muffins)

-Being nice to Redwing (jealous of a bot, how cute of you)

Shaking his head and laughing, he put the notebook back in its place.

He continued to walk around the living room. He found himself in front of the fireplace. Winters were not cold, so a fireplace was not common in Louisiana homes. And yet it was Sam who had wanted it when they built their house after Bucky had confided in him that what haunted him most in his nightmares was the cold. The memory of his cryogenic sleeps.

So when the roles were reversed and Bucky needed warmth after a nightmare. When he didn't want to disturb Sam or when Sam wasn't there, He would light the fire and sit in front of it until the heat made him forget his nightmares.

The way their relationship had started, who would have thought they would have come to this. Certainly not him. But they were perfect together in a way Bucky would never have dared to dream.

Bucky figured Sam's nightmare must have been particularly hard on him, to keep him out there for so long, but he trusted him to tell him about it when he needed to.

In the meantime, he picked up an old record and headed for the record player. Another present from Sam when Bucky had told him he missed the sound of old records.

I hadn't anyone till you.

Bucky remembered when this song had come out. As he listened to the lyrics now, he thought they were prescient.

I hadn't anyone

Till you

I was the lonely one

Till you

I used to lie awake and wonder

If there could be

A someone in this wide world

Just made for me

His eyes fell on another post-it note on the record cover.

Bucky, you little sap, I'm sure you think this song is written for you. The someone just made for you, you think that's me right?

Well you're right and it's mutual.

With love from your fool in love.

He read it several times and put it in his pocket with the others. The little piece of paper may not have been warm, but Bucky felt a familiar warmth spread through him.

Music filled the room and Bucky opened the living room window to let the breeze in.

He lay down on the couch, the book he had started this morning in his hand, resting his head on one armrest and his feet on the other. He quickly became absorbed in his reading, absentmindedly humming the song. When he got to the part Sam mentioned in his little note, Bucky began to sing out loud as well, and as his voice faded with the music, he heard the door open behind him.

Bucky sat up and turned his head, Sam was home.

"Stay where you are, love."

Sam came to join him, kissed him gently before sitting against him, Bucky closed his arm around him.

"Hi," Sam said softly, a half smile on his face. "I missed you."

"Hi," Bucky replied, pressing a kiss to Sam's head. "I missed you too. Did you have a good time?"

"Yes, I did," Sam replied. "Did you have a good time too? I'm sorry I wasn't there most of the day."

"Of course you were there," Bucky replied. It was the truth. Sam was always there, even when he wasn't physically there. Bucky could see him everywhere. There were traces of him, of them, everywhere. And when he left, he always came home. In Bucky's arms.

He tightened his embrace and whispered softly, "You are here. And I will always wait for you. Always."

_____ I think the sappy one is me but well...

I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

Not beta'd

[anonthenullifier]

Don’t known if you take prompts, but I love your writing! Everyone (even Wanda) always teases Vision about being a bit of a mother hen when Wanda is injured, but when Vision is unexpectedly injured, Wanda immediately goes into over-protective mode.

Thanks so much for the prompt! Sorry for the delay in responding. I hope you enjoy it and don’t mind that I started it with a bit of Vision as the mother hen before the tables turn.

——

It wasn’t a hard hit or even a skilled one, there’s probably not even a bruise to add legitimacy to the attack, and yet Wanda stays on the ground for a few seconds just to collect herself.

“You have to watch your back.” The admonishment crackles through the comms, something Natasha chides her about constantly during training and today Steve has taken over the helm since Natasha isn’t on this mission. “Get back in the fight.”

Wanda’s, “Yes, Captain,” is more sardonic than needed, but she doesn’t care as her palms press into the ground, wincing at the gravel and shards of glass digging into her skin at the reminder of her failure.

“Here,” and then the journey up is easier, calm, caring hands sliding under her arms and lifting her onto her feet. “Are you unharmed?” Vision’s irises twirl rapidly as his fingers skim along arms, antsy for her response.

Maybe she was on the ground for a little more than just to collect herself, mood flipping from embarrassment to appreciation as her lips crawl upwards, “I’m fine. Just surprised.”

“Good,” Vision doesn’t technically need to breathe and yet he exhales in relief, a small little curve breaking apart the tension of his lips.

“Vision.” They both know what is about to be conveyed in the comms, because it happens every time, without fail. “If you don’t get back to your station, it’s a write-up.” Steve is not amused, never is, especially when dealing with a man like Vision who willingly takes the write-up (he has the longest record of misconduct of them all but his only indiscretion is her) and actually enjoys the punishment of cleaning and fixing the training room. “Now.”

Now is, as Vision has so enthusiastically reasoned through in a similar situation, an unquantified command. All now means is in the present moment or time. It does not convey the exact minutes or seconds required and leaves just enough room for him to say that leaning forward and kissing her, like he is at this moment (with his arm wrapping around her waist to steady her should her injury be too much), is allowed because it is within the bounds of now since he is technically in the process of rising up to leave, it just isn’t completed until their lips part. Which is what happens next along with his very serious, “Be careful.”

Wanda grins up at him, “But how else am I going to get a mid-mission kiss?”

It’s a half snort, the type where he’s trying really hard to remain serious and staunch, even if his voice breaks a little as he attempts to respond, “You could ask.”

“Now, Vision!”

All humor is lost as he stares deep into her soul. “Be careful.”

This time she’ll give him what he needs to feel comfortable returning, “I’ll try.”

“Good.”

And then he flies off, cape fluttering like the sun-kissed ocean, a mesmerizing sight shattered by Steve’s exasperation sighed through the comms, a precursor to a lecture they all know by heart. “A reminder on our protocols.  Unless a teammate is incapactiated, we do not break rank. And if a teammate is incapacitated,” knowing what comes next, Wanda turns and charges up her hands, searching out the asshole that sent her to the ground, “the responding party needs to be the person closest to them, or, if they are centrally engaged with the mission, the auxiliary members will respond.” Once found, Wanda sends the woman’s mind into a deep slumber of regret for her actions. “Vision, you are not auxiliary today nor were you the closest.”

“Understood, Captain Rogers.” Said with just enough remorse to make it seem like he is actually penitent of his actions, but they all know he’s not.

“Let’s just finish this, okay?”

An echo of Aye Ayes and Yes, sirs bounce through the comms and then the silence of focus.

Wanda is part of the auxiliary team today and so her sole job is to protect the perimeter so that Vision and Sam can successfully infiltrate the base.  It all becomes monotonous, the movements painfully trained into her muscles by Natasha and Steve, allowing Wanda to mostly act on autopilot with swipes of her hands and flicks of her fingers subduing anyone who tries to counter her while keeping tabs on the minds of those around them, redirecting their thoughts and behaviors as need be. And she looks over her shoulder every so often, not wanting to be reprimanded again. That’s how she sees the silhouette of Vision racing up into the air, something, or someone clinging to him as he struggles and then the explosion before Sam’s frantic, “All teams assemble, all teams assemble.”

This should send her running towards the main building, instead Wanda stands frozen, eyes trained on where Vision last was, expecting the smoke to clear and him to be floating nonchalantly, the way he always does when averting disaster.

Before the smoke even clears, she sees him plummet. “Vision!”

Wanda’s hands alight, sending her careening towards where Vision is falling, her mind incapable of calculating the necessary flight path the way the other fliers can, which is how she ends up overshooting him.

“I’ve got him.” Rhodes’ declaration should quell the rising panic clawing at her chest, only it doesn’t.

Wanda lowers too quickly, the cloud of red too thin to fully protect her from crashing down onto her knees, not that she cares or notices, her mind singularly focused and urging her body across the room. “Get away.” Rhodes steps back instantly, allowing Wanda to crawl next to Vision, her hands frantically running all along the dimpled fabric of his uniform, scarlet weeping out between her fingers as she presses her powers into his mind. The “Vision,” that ekes out of her throat is broken by a sob at the steady pulse of his thoughts, their rhythm slightly off-tempo from his usual.

“We need to-”

What they need to do is leave her alone to make sure he’s okay. “Stay back.” She meant to say it less threatening but it does the job, allowing her to lay along his chest and feel the subtle rise and fall of the lungs he doesn’t need to use but does anyway and hear the little click of the vibranium laced valves of his heart thrum away. “Vision?”  A hand to his face, one engulfed with red that she sends into his mind with wisps of comfort and affection, seems to pull his mind back to itself, his thoughts following the ebb and flow of her powers until his eyes crack open slightly. “There you are.”

“Wan-” Vision tries to sit up and is met with the full force of her powers holding him down, “da?”

“You need to take a minute or two, okay?”

Without any fight he accepts the reasoning, his muscles relaxing underneath her despite the discerning gaze sent her way. “I have completed an anatomical assessment and determined no harm occurred beyond a moment of surprise.”

“Well, I’m still assessing.” Even if she has reached the same conclusion, not even the deepest part of his thoughts aware of any pain beyond the encroaching embarrassment of being caught off guard, a feeling she knows all too well. “I think we should go back to the ship, just to be safe.” This she both states to him and also to the questioning faces around them, in particular her eyes stay on Steve’s pursed lips, “Is that acceptable?”

“If he’s okay we still have-”

Always the damn mission. Wanda closes her eyes and sends tendrils of scarlet out to the rest of the facility, connecting with every mind she can and then she directs it all back to Steve so he can feel as she puts each and every mind into a state of temporary blissful ignorance and a blind eye to them. “Now you can handle it without him if you move quickly.”

“Wanda, I really am fine.”

Two idiots then, “Vizh, we need to follow,” she never reads these protocols, she just lets him do it and then tell her when one is applicable. Thankfully the correct one is on the tip of his mind, “Protocol 58.a.i on detecting injuries in uncertain situations.”

Vision seems to remove the helm of the idiot and instead uses his natural intelligence. “A fair point.”

“Vision took care of the most dangerous part already,” Sam’s attempt to play peace-keeper is appreciated, “so we should be able to handle the rest.”

Steve remains resolute for five more seconds and then sighs for a second time, a potential record for a mission. “Wanda get Vision back to the quinjet for assessment and we’ll meet you there once we’re done.”

“Thank you.”

The others leave and Wanda stands up, threading scarlet around Vision to help him up as well, a movement that doesn’t even involve a wince or other outward sign of enduring injury. Regardless, she wraps an arm around his waist and holds him steady as they walk across the expanse of the facility and up the ramp of the quinjet hidden just outside the gate.

Gingerly she helps to lower him onto the medical table before turning to start the computer. “Wanda,” his fingers curl around her wrist, a soft tug rotating her to face his pleading eyes, “I swear that I am not harmed.”

“I know.” That much was clear back where she laid on top of him, felt his body act as it normally does, watched his mind coalesce back to its natural, even flow, and yet the terror of the seconds where she didn’t know, where he fell without resistance, the image of his arms and legs limply moving in time with his cape tells her that harm did occur because now she knows he isn’t invulnerable, has seen him plummet the same way the walls of her apartment did as a child, the way her heart did when her connection to Pietro was snuffed out. When she felt like her entire world was imploding, when she accepted the gravity of her life ending with Pietro and allowed herself to be one with the rubble of Sokovia, he was there to catch her, has been there every time since then and now she resolves to do the same for him. “But I need to be sure, okay?”

Vision studies her, head tilting to the right the way it does whenever he is about to argue some well-based logic, and then the predicted argument doesn’t come, only his quiet, “Very well.”

Silently he watches her as she hooks up the monitors and continues to do so while the lights form shadows along his body during the scan, the consistent clicking of his irises usually calm her though typically he’s not staring the way he is now. “What?”

“You look,” a half-second pause means he doesn’t really want to verbalize his observation, “scared.”

“I am, Vision.”

Vision sits up, eyes never leaving her. “But I am unharmed.” Unhelpfully he points at the screen declaring all of his systems are running normally. “There is no need to-”

Wanda grips his hands, needing to feel his skin against hers and also wanting to stop him from gesticulating out how ridiculous her reaction is. Perhaps a mirror to his own irrationality will help. “Says the man who’s been written up more than anyone else for flying to me whenever I so much as stumble.”

His lips part, ready to counter, and then she can both see and feel his thoughts flounder, realization shutting his lips into a thin line before he chuckles, “I understand.” Vision uses their still joined hands and eases her forward to stand between his legs, releasing her fingers so that he can hug her snuggly against his chest. “I apologize for frightening you.”

“Just don’t do it again.”

A promise, Vision has explained to her, should be rooted in reasonableness because one should always be capable and willing to follow through. What she’s asking him is probably impossible and she knows he’ll tell her that. “I will endeavor to remain unharmed,” she lets him guide her forehead to rest against his, to hear his whispered, “I swear, Wanda.”

“Thank you.”  Since he isn’t hurt beyond being embarrassed at all the attention, she can let her heart calm down and perhaps redirect to something a little more enjoyable about their current situation. “I think when we get back, you should go on bedrest for a day or so, just to be safe.”

As expected, it is met with just enough push back to be adorable, “That is taking this too far, Wanda. I agreed to the scan but I cannot-”

“How else am I going to thoroughly,” she really makes sure to emphasize the word, ramping up her accent and deepening her voice in a way she knows, for a fact, he cannot resist or misinterpret, “check you over for injuries?’

“Oh, um,” he clears his throat as if this is the first time she’s propositioned him, never one to handle directness very well, “if that is the most appropriate protocol,” and now he matches her tone, a sly smirk on his face, “who am I to say no?

[anika-ann]

Attached - Bonus

Words Read After the Lights-Out

Type: (mini)-series, college AU, professor AU (technically)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 5500

Summary: Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Time apart is usually unpleasant and this time wasn’t as exception. With messed-up sleep schedule, Steve helps himself with one of your writing he knows you finished. Will it help him fall asleep?

Warnings: smut, 18+, nsfw, semi-public masturbation, oral (fem receiving), PIV, hints of dom/sub, and fluff… and language (always)

A/N: @donutloverxo​ is ‘bad’ influence on me. Hopefully it will make up for me still not participating in the wonderful weekly challenge.

So here. Have a tiny bit more of smut and then I’m done with it. I am not a smut writer, no, no, no, no… but yeah, I had plenty of fun with this. It’s smut in a fluffy wrapping, because of course it is. I’m me. So, enjoy?

(Also, I copied the start of reader’s fic from the epilogue, so just you’re not surprised)

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve knew he had permission – a half-heartedly mumbled one, somewhere between consciousness and drifting to sleep, but still a permission –, yet he felt a bit dirty.

He had printed the pages few days ago before he left, knowing you finished the story for now named ‘the second encounter with Professor R’, morbidly curious, but hesitant to dive in. These were still your writings, your imaginations and they might have concerned him, but they were still very intimate. And he wasn’t just thinking sexual intimacy – it was simply something coming from the very depth of your mind and Steve honest to god didn’t want to invade your privacy.

However, he had asked if you’d mind if he read what you had written, and you said no. He had asked if he could read it then – and you said yeah.

Here. Permission. Clear as day. And you had left your laptop open, still logged in, as if in invitation. So he had downloaded it and printed it out.

And now he was watching you lying on your stomach, hugging the pillow that was very much on his side of the bed as if you wished you were cuddling him instead and Steve didn’t crave anything but sliding beside you and pulling you to his side.

The problem was that he had been to a conference on the other side of the country and he nodded off on the plane and not even the long shower made him relax properly. And the last thing he wanted was to wake you up, because the last time you Facetimed, you looked like you could sleep for a year.

Steve knew that the fact he had left you alone for the first time since the rumours started that you two were together and it was no surprise that facing the vultures without the possibility to find solace in each other’s arms was taking its toll on you – he wouldn’t like it either. You wouldn’t admit it to him; you kept the distress about it to yourself, not wanting to burden him. The bed was lonely without him, you had said instead, a claim no doubt true as well – and boy, could Steve relate to that.

So now he fished out the few pages and settled at the desk, only the dim light revealing your words to him, as if they were something that indeed should remain a secret.

Steve spent one more glance at your sleeping form, serene, your lips parted as you softly breathed into the pillow, eyes closed, eyelashes casting weak shadows over your cheeks with the little lamp on and Steve couldn’t stop the corners of his lips rising. You were beautiful and his, lying in his bed, practically begging for him to come and take you to his arms.

Steve promised himself that once he would finish reading, hopefully tire his eyes for a bit, he would do exactly that – falling into a blissful sleep with you in his embrace.

He should have known better, really. He should have known that your story would do everything but lull him to sleep.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Your pen was half-heartedly scribbling on the paper, your brain not quite registering the words coming from his mouth.

You weren’t prepared for a damn history lecture; mostly because when you knocked on the door of the professor’s office, you did not expected to find him not alone; his colleague, the grumpy old idiot, was sitting at his desk, making nots from a book which you probably wouldn’t even be able to lift with how thick it was.

Speaking of thick things… one was meant to be between your legs now, but no, the other prof just had to sit there third-wheeling and cock-blocking—dammit.

Now here you were, sitting opposite to Professor Rogers at his desk, pretending to be taking notes while he kindly filled in your missing knowledge, talking about god knew what.

His voice was a balm to your ears, deep timbre echoing in your ribcage, stirring heat in your abdomen. His voice did things to you no matter what words he spoke and from what distance, but you much rather had him whispering filthy suggestions to your ear, teeth grazing your skin, praises for all the things you allowed him to do to you, with his fingers, with his tongue, with his-

“Miss Clark!” Professor Rogers snapped all of sudden, voice stern and minutely louder than before. Your head snapped to him at instant, meeting his intense glare and a raised eyebrow. “Do I need to remind you that you were the one who expressed a supposedly genuine endeavour to earn your credit? If you could take notes instead of…” he eyed your wannabe notes with the scepticism they deserved “-doodling, that would be splendid.”

The smirk on his lips gave him away as he met your gaze, rising from his seat pointedly.

“Yes, Professor Rogers,” you said meekly, speeding up the circles and other random motions with your hand. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered off, I got lost in your narrative. It won’t happen again.”

You were so full of shit, because the only thing you got lost in was your own imagination, unholy pictures filling your impatient brain. Professor Rogers certainly knew that too – but he kept the front up for his colleague who just couldn’t seem to leave the damn room if even for a minute.

“It better not,” Professor Roberts commented gruffly, circling the hardwood desk slowly, fingers tracing the top of what he was meant to be fucking you against shall your fantasy come true any time soon. You shifted in your seat, feeling slickness gathering between your lower lips in anticipation. “As I was saying, the battle of Stalingrad…”

A sudden thought struck you when he stood beside you; for the first time in the past hour, you actually wrote something down instead of drawing random patterns.

Professor Rogers looked over your shoulder, reading the line about Professor Banks being a pain in your ass and you going crazy with need for your tutor’s cock. Peripherally, you saw Professor Rogers’ hand curl up in a fist, one corner of your lips rising in a smirk.

If you were to suffer, then so could he. It was a bold move, bratty even, one he might punish you for, but you were willing to take the risk, even feeling a tingle in your abdomen at the premise. Would he punish you? How? Were you in for some impatient manhandling today?

Caught up in your musings, you nearly jumped when his hot breath caressed your ear, a whispered promise causing air to get stuck in your throat, your heart speeding up insanely in your chest.

“Patience. Once he’s gone I’m gonna bend you over this desk…”

Your eyes fluttered shut, your mind supplying you with a helpful visual. You could almost feel his hand stroking the back of your thighs, the curve of your ass over your skin-tight dress, your lower back, and roughly pushing between your shoulder blades to trap you against the desk.

“…the German offensive to capture Stalingrad began in August 1942, using the 6th Army and elements of the 4th Panzer Army. The attack was supported by intense Luftwaffe bombing that reduced much of the city to rubble,” he continued the lecture as he straightened again, as if he hadn’t just vowed to get freaky with you.

His hand grazed the back of your chair, painfully close and still so far, moving to your other side, the heat of his body once again teasing you, his mouth an inch from your skin.

“…and fuck you ‘till you can’t walk…”

Your breathing picked up, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, the urge to lick your lips stronger than you. You glanced in Professor Banks’ direction, but there was no way he could hear what his colleague was whispering to your ear, the filthy promises made in between lecturing you about one of the biggest and most important battles of WW II. How could Professor Rogers even focus-

“You certainly have to write this down, Miss Clark—November 19, the Red Army launched Operation Uranus, a two-pronged attack targeting the weaker Romanian and Hungarian armies protecting the 6th Army's flanks.”

“… and ‘till the only thing you remember from this session is my name...”

You couldn’t even make out the words he spoke on normal volume anymore. Your fingers gripped the pen, the echo of sensations from the last week that had haunted you for days ghosting over your skin, your lips, your-

“…and how good my cock feels in your cunt.”

As if on command, your core clenched around nothing, the desperate craving to relieve some of the gradually building desire causing your thighs to rub together on instinct, hoping to create some friction at least. You could imagine Professor Rogers’ pupils dilating at that, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as one simple sentence of yours backfired unexpectedly.

His lips actually brushed over the shell of your ear with his next words, making you suck in air in a sharp inhale.

“You better get yourself ready, ‘cause I won’t waste any time with that.”

You blinked furiously at the statement, your head once again snapping to the other man in the room, who could turn to you any moment, catching you red-handed if you actually went through with it.

No way, no fucking w-

“Did I stutter, Miss Clark?” Professor Rogers hissed irritably and you dared to look at him, shocked to see a wolfish smile, a hungry glint in his eye that filled your stomach with butterflies, causing you to practically drip into the fabric of your dress.

“No, Professor Rogers,” you whispered obediently, your mind racing as you couldn’t make yourself to slip your hand under and just… listen to the command. “I understood.”

He held your gaze as he stepped to your right to partly shield you from view.

Be a good girl, he mouthed, sending a pleasant shudder down your spine, your pussy weeping for him, something inside you begging for you to obey just so you could hear him say it out loud later.

“Then we shall continue. At the beginning of February 1943, the Axis forces in Stalingrad…”

You inhaled shakily, your hand trembling a little as you let it fall from the top of the table, landing on your leg instead, your thumb grazing the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

Professor Rogers’ eyebrows jumped a fraction, his chin motioning for you to go on, his eyes dark and lustful like a night.

Not daring to cast a single glance at the other man, because he would only make you lose your nerve, you moved your hand under the hem of your dress which was slightly below your mid-thigh, fingers trailing up until they reached the very high thigh-highs you were wearing.

“You seem to be forgetting to take notes, Miss Clark, my patience is truly wearing thin. Let’s move to another battle which was critical for the development of the war, the battle of Bulge…”

The words fell on deaf ears. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart as your fingers slid right into the slickness pooled at your core; just like he had asked a week ago, there was nothing in the way, no underwear. You nearly whimpered when the tips of your fingers touched your opening, the barely-there contact blissful and yet torturous as you craved so much more.

You could feel his gaze on you, studying every quickened rise and fall of your chest, every single motion of the tendons in your forearm and thighs, flexing when your thumb circled your aching swollen clit, your eyes sliding shut at the tingle that ran through your nerve endings, your forefinger dipping into your cunt. You bit on your lip to stop yourself from releasing the whimper threatening to spill from your lips.

His stupid talk, momentarily empty promises, his voice on your ear, his lips brushing your skin, the light pressure on your clit, the finger moving slowly inside you— it all felt amazing, way too good considering that you knew you weren’t alone, but by God, did it add a tiny bit of a thrill, causing your heart to flutter, your core to burn.

You could still hear Professor Rogers talking, not one of his words registering until his fingertip grazed your collarbone, a breath of ‘such a good girl’ caressing your ear. You gulped, feeling your pussy clench, a shudder running down your spine.

“Go on, make yourself feel good. Add another.”

You had no idea how he knew what you were doing under the fabric, but he retreated again, to talk armies and bloodshed and all you could think off was being the good girl he had proclaimed you, worrying your teeth over your lips strongly enough to draw blood almost, third finger slipping into your heat. Your eyes fluttered open at the sensation, gaze stubbornly fixing on Professor Rogers’ chair, your breathing shallow and quick as you felt the pressure building.

Your mind was turning hazy as you tried to comprehend whether you liked the presence of the unsuspecting professor or were ashamed doing this while he was right there. You massaged your inner walls slowly, carefully despite how much you needed the release at this point, barely moving in or out in the fright of making noise. Your head spun, your thighs trembling softly with your climax nearing, the pleasure on horizon setting your blood on fire.

And then there was a pinch to your shoulder, nearly making you yelp in surprise—but somehow, even in the fog your brain was in, you understood that it was an order to stop and your hand instantly disappeared, curling into a fist on your thigh.

You tried your best to stop the shaking, to ignore the slickness on your fingers, now hopefully hidden in your palm and not on display – and peripherally, you could see Professor Banks rise to his feet, picking up items from his desk.

Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, air caught in your lungs as you attempted to calm yourself just in case he would look at you. As if your sex wasn’t practically pulsing because of the abrupt neglect, so so close to the release you craved.

In a sudden clarity of mind, you swiftly took fresh paper and set in on top of your ‘notes’ and gripped the pen again, seemingly ready to continue writing down important dates and names. You heard Banks steps nearing and you instinctively looked up. You had no idea what face you made, because you had zero control over your mimic muscles, too busy trying not to spontaneously combust.

Whatever he read from your expression, it made him eye his colleague.

“Don’t keep her for much longer, Steven. I’m sure she deserves some fun today too,” the older professor remarked, shooting you an uncharacteristic smile and walked out of the office, his old-fashioned leather case swinging. Professor Rogers’ ‘Don’t worry, Bradley,’ followed him and finally, the door clicked shut behind him, allowing you to release an exhale.

“He has no fucking idea,” you muttered, tossing the damn pen aside, running a hand down your face, while your other one remained curled up in a tight fist.

“Shut you dirty mouth, babygirl,” Professor Rogers hissed, crossing the distance to the door in few long strides, glancing at Banks’ desk to make sure that the man hadn’t forgotten anything he could come back for, and only then locked.

The next thing you knew, you were on your feet, the edge of the hardwood desk digging into your ass, your wrists pinned by his hands.

Your breath was stolen by his mouth, lips taking yours, warm, sweet, soft and demanding, a hungry kiss that had no end, one of your wrists suddenly free as his fingers curled around your nape, tangling in your hair, pushing and pulling, just to get more of you. You submitted easily, gratefully even, blissed out at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth, taking everything he wanted.

You gasped for air when he withdrew, his forehead resting against yours for a split moment, his touch on you almost tender now, more so when he brought your wrist to his mouth and left a brief kiss on your knuckles, inhaling deeply, causing your face heat up.

“So obedient, such good girl,” he whispered in a husky voice, thick with arousal, and you could swear you were about to burst. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

You were caught between embarrassed and aroused when he pried your fingers open, his tongue tasting your drying juices. Your core clenched in need and as if he could feel it, his hips rutted into yours, his own excitement evident as his cock poked your lower stomach, his mouth once again on yours, your hand trapped between your bodies, his fingers gripping your sides tightly.

“I promised you something, didn’t I?” he mumbled to your mouth.

Recalling just what a vow he had made you with the other man still present, you gladly let him spin you around, manoeuvre you to press your front to his desk with no regard for the notes scattered over it. You instantly missed the warmth of his body, but his hands went to knead the flash of your ass, one sliding to your lower back, the other hiking up your dress.

A groan escaped him at the sight of you bared for him, his foot nudging yours apart, his grip on you tightening, fingers digging into your flesh enough to bruise before they slid lower, dipping into your slickness. His fingertips spread it, circling your clit, nearly causing your knees to buckle at the shot of bliss sent through your veins. A pathetic mewl fell from your lips and you could only imagine the indulgent smile on his face.

“God, look at you, so pretty, so ready for me,” he praised, fingers tracing the lace of your thigh-highs. “I really like these. Good choice…. Hold on tight, babygirl.”

You wasted no time and listened to him, grabbing the edge of the desk as his touch disappeared. You closed your eyes, anticipation building when you heard the tell-tale of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again and as wrong or right as it was, you couldn’t help yourself, missing him. You knew things weren’t as simple as they could be seen – you noticed the little things, unnecessary tenderness peeking through, showing you that you were more than just a mindless fuck.

His warm palms spread your cheeks almost lovingly, slightly guiding you up so you stood on your tiptoes, bracing on the hardwood desk, so close to beg for him to finally fill you up, so con-

“Oh my-“ you cried out, your thighs clenching when instead of his hard cock nudging your slit, a velvety-soft warmth licked at your opening, eager and hungry, wasting no time and opening you further, the tip of his tongue pushing in, his lips sucking every drop you offered. Blood rushed to your head and to your centre, fingertips tingling, your most sensitive parts feeling like on fire. His beard was a stark contrast to the softness of his tongue, rough sensation making you dizzy. “Prof-“

His fingers applied pressure on your clit again, the circling motions making your head spin, your thighs shake again with the intensity of the approaching orgasm as professor Rogers fucked you with his tongue relentlessly, reaching even deeper, flicking his tongue and driving you absolutely crazy with pleasure.

A cry ripped from your throat as your climax shook your whole world, knees giving out, your fingers weakly clutching at the edge of the desk, your body slack against the wood. And he didn’t stop. He helped you ride it out with vigour, humming against your cunt, sending aftershocks through your veins. Only when he stopped, you felt you could finally breathe— his mouth moved just a fraction, a sting on your inner thigh as he sucked a mark of possession, one he kissed afterwards; even in your haze, a soft warmth enveloped your heart. Not a mindless fuck.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t help myself…” he muttered to your skin, stroking, squeezing, kissing, moving up and whispering to your hair. Did he just apologize…? “You’re even sweeter than I hoped.”

Your heart fluttered, your hand blindly finding his as it still clutched on your waist. He didn’t retreat, gently squeezing back, knocking the breath out of you when he simultaneously entered you, his whole length in one swift motion, sinking so easily into your weeping cunt.

Professor Rogers moaned as you gasped, your core instinctively clenching around him.

“So tight… so good-“

His hands moved to your hips, his cock driving in and out, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch, his thick member stretching you pleasantly after such delicious preparation.

“Professor Rogers,” you gasped when he hit the right spot, his grip tightening.

“That it, babygirl?” he teased, purposely changing the angle, barely brushing your g-spot with his next thrust. You couldn’t help the mewl of frustration, attempting to shift and help yourself, only to meet with the steely hold he had on you. “Ah-ah, none of that, babygirl… you want more? Want me to make good on my promise?”

You really wanted to sneer at him, to snap, but—God, he moved so right the next moment, giving you another taste of the delicious sensation and you nodded fiercely, only for him to still in his movements, thumbs drawing a circle on your skin.

“Yes,” you voiced your request then, earning a satisfied hum and a tap of his fingers. Words are good, now do better, you almost heard him say and you clenched your jaw in frustration. For God’s sake- “Yes, please.”

“Please what?” he urged you as he rolled his hips lazily, dragging his cock alongside your walls so painfully slow.

You sighed, rocking yours hips just a bit – vainly, again.

“Please, fuck me against the desk… Professor Rogers.”

It worked like a charm, a kiss landing between your clothed shoulder blades.

“Good girl,” he hummed, the praise giving you as much joy as it did to him, apparently. “Brace yourself, sweetheart, I’m not holding back on you. I waited long enough…”

And that he did; the lecture had been a torture until it changed into a different kind of-

The half-unpleasant memory vanished from your mind, quickly replaced by the sensation of his length filling you up again, and again, again, speeding up, angling his hips so he finally hit the spot you craved to have stimulated, driving in and out with force that made you see stars, sharp gasps escaping your lips with each thrust.

You clutched at the table, unable to hold still, trying to meet him halfway, adding to the pleasure that had tears gathering behind your closed eyelids.

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ he groaned and freed one of his hands in favour to take you with him, playing with your clit and making you moan his name as the coil in your abdomen snapped again, causing you clench around him. It tipped him over the edge and you felt him spill into you, some of his seed tickling your opening as he rode his climax out.

You were both breathing heavily as his body laid over yours, the sweat gathering on your forehead and back be damned. You melted into the comfort his weight offered, pleasantly surprised when one of his hands found yours, still on the edge of the desk, fingers interlacing, a wet sloppy kiss landing on the side of your neck.

You could feel him soften inside you, a new sensation that felt strangely intimate, and yet he stayed a little longer.

“Stay right here, babygirl,” he rasped out, the warmth of him disappearing as he stood up fully and pulled out.

You obeyed despite not being sure what was about to happen… your first thought was a photo and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

However, your first thought was wrong.

You heard rustle as he pulled out a wet-wipe, a sharp exhale following – warming it up, you realized later – and then he carefully cleaned you up, soft and wary of how sensitive you were, his mission ending with a brief kiss on the spot where the bitemark was probably already blooming.

“You can get up,” he encouraged you, standing by your side, hands hovering as if ready to catch you.

Now your head spun for a whole different reason. What the hell was happening? What was he doing? What did this mean? You weren’t about to complain in the slightest, but… what.

Professor Rogers was observing you wordlessly, intense gaze you couldn’t hope to understand and you couldn’t help the shame warming up your cheeks, knowing that even with waterproof mascara and quality lipstick, you were far from looking perfect – and still, he appeared to be feasting his eyes on you.

Before you could try and fix it, he caught your hand halfway to your face, planting a kiss on your wrist and reaching for another tissue, taking care of it himself.

You were rendered speechless, eyes wide, lips parted as his own spread in a gentle smile, gaze almost fond as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“Pretty girl,” was all he said, a kiss landing on your forehead, causing your breath to hitch, your eyelashes fluttering as you blinked several times, unable to comprehend.

You were too stunned to say a single word, frozen on spot and yet you could feel your bones melting under his gaze, still unwavering, focused, boring into yours.

Neither of you made an attempt to move – neither of your reached for your handbag so you could be on your way. You just stood there in silence, lost in how incredibly handsome, beautiful he was up-close, finally having time to fully appreciate it – and with the softness of his features, you felt yourself fall for him, caught in the safety net of his kind eyes.

Your mouth opened uselessly and the pad of thumb moved to run over your lips, ending up in the corner of your mouth, raising it in a lopsided smile.

“You called me my first name,” he whispered, effectively bursting your blissful bubble and invading it with horror.

Oh god, you had? When—oh. Oh. Now you recalled it, a tiny bit horrified that you actually called him ‘Steve’ when reaching your peak.

“I’m sor-“

He shook his head and before you could finish, he pulled you in for another kiss, slow, deep and meaningful, his arm curling around your waist as if he couldn’t get you close enough and once again, you weren’t about to complain, placing one palm on his shoulder, the other on the side of his neck instead.

“I liked it,” he breathed to your mouth, pecking your lips once more before releasing you. “I’ll see you next week, Miss Clark.”

You nodded automatically, still stunned by the whole turn of events and accepted the handbag he gently handed you.

“…thanks,” you muttered and let him lead you out of the office.

When he unlocked the door, you readjusted your dress, making sure that in any normal circumstances people could see the lack of your underwear; what a reminder of Professor Rogers – Steve – being no less kinky than the first time, no matter how his demeanour now. You glanced at his face again and lost all remnants of sanity.

You placed your hand on his broad impressive bicep and dropped a light kiss on his cheek, enjoying the tickle of his beard once more.

“I’ll see you,” you echoed his words, meeting his twinkling eyes before walking out of the door.

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Steve had to blink several times as he finished reading, trying to get a grasp on reality again, the words and images still swimming in front of his eyes. He needed few moments to process what he just read for more than one reason; he certainly didn’t feel sleepy as he had naively hoped.

He found the story hot, yeah, he wasn’t kidding himself, he was rock hard and aching, but what took him aback greatly and rendered him speechless was the sentiment. The shift in the relationship, the parts of Steve you got to know that you had implemented into the story with ease, the story in which ‘Miss Clark’ was surprised by the professor’s affection.

Steve read in the words the same astonishment and tender awe he saw in your eyes when you first exchanged ‘I love you’, after he had read the very start of this story for the first time and told you that he loved your mind as well.

Even when he glanced at your form now, so tempting in his bed, practically begging for him to satiate the hunger that your words spurred, it was impossible to ignore the warmth in his chest, his heart suddenly feeling too big for his ribcage.

Delicately placing the pages down, he turned off the lamp and carefully made his way to you, the mattress dipping under his weight, the motion drawing an adorable but barely audible whimper from you. Steve smiled for himself and slid beside you, curling his arms around your form and pulling you to his chest as much as he could without poking you with his hard-on, having decided to ignore it until it went away. He just-- honestly, he wouldn’t say no, but just holding you would suffice tonight.

You melted into his body so trustingly and naturally it made his heart ache and sing at the same time—God, he loved you. Then, as your mind registered that he was technically not supposed to be there, your form stiffened before pressing into him further, curling in his embrace, allowing him to nuzzle his nose in your hair.

“Hi,” you greeted him sleepily, but no less sweetly.

Steve dropped a kiss to the back of your head, his smile widening. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m okay, I’m glad to be home and you can go back to sleep.”

“Mm-mm, thanks for the report.”

You turned your head to catch his lips in a welcome kiss, one Steve wouldn’t refuse in a million years; sleepy, a bit sloppy, but one that tasted like home. Yours. And with both of you smiling into it.

“Welcome back. I missed you.”

He brushed the strand of your hair from your face, kissing you once more at your admission.

“Missed you more.”

Your grin only widened when you rolled over to him fully, tangling your limbs with his and accidently – possibly on purpose – brushing his erection with your thigh. He hissed despite himself and he would swear he could see a glint of mischief in your eyes despite the lack of light in the room.

“Oh, I see how it is, you missed me,” you giggled adorably and Steve couldn’t bring himself to be exasperated at you breaking the magic of the moment. And he certainly didn’t feel like telling you what exactly got him into this state – at least not now.

“Not just like that,” he grumbled and you giggled once more, finding his lips with yours, your hand surprisingly moving to rest on his chest, right over his heart, rather than heading down his torso.

“I’m hopeful,” you whispered, looking up at him from under your eyelashes and even in the dark, Steve felt his heart stutter. God, you were beautiful. Breath-taking. His. “But we should take care of this.”

Your hand slid considerably lower, giving some attention to his aching hard-on, softly curling your fingers around it and stroking and his resolve was slowly – very quickly – turning non-existent.

“I didn’t want to wake you at all. You need to sleep-“ he tried out weakly and you eyed him again, kissing his sternum, still smiling.

“Don’t feel sleepy. And I missed you too. In all the ways possible. I want to feel you, Steve.”

And fuck, he was lost. To your hands, to your lips, to your voice – when did it grow so sultry? –, to the smell of your shampoo and bodywash and your skin and to your damn face he couldn’t even see properly.

“Hey,” he mumbled in a spur of the moment, catching your hand to still your delicate strokes before they clouded his mind completely.

You blinked in an understandable surprise; but he had an important thing to say, simultaneously making a mental note to emphasize it again when telling you he read the second story too.

“Wha-“

“I truly missed you, sweetheart. I love you.”

Your surprise melted into something much softer and Steve couldn’t but meet your lips again, catching a glimpse of that same awe he marvelled at when reading. Your fingers in his hair were an epitome of bliss as you kissed him back with care.

“I love you too, Steve. So much…” you vowed and then there were no more words needed.

Steve devoured your lips, your body, revelling in every soft sigh of his name. And soon worn out after you both tipped over the edge, you fell asleep, tucked under the covers in his arms, the pair of you finally sleeping soundly again after being apart.

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‘One-shot’ Hurtful Words part 1

S.R. masterlist

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Thank you for reading :-*

I felt like I owe it to you, to them and to myself after the story she was writing didn’t get to be read (Steve caught her writing it). I hope you enjoyed :)

I’m thinking one more one-shot, maybe, will see how it goes, I’ll be pretty busy from the next week, so...