#blue straggler steve

[onlyforsebastianstan]

Better Off Without Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You, a sharp-tongued Avenger, love Bucky Barnes, but his Winter Soldier past haunts him. When he sees you laughing with Steve Rogers, the “perfect” hero, Bucky’s insecurities flare, believing you deserve better.

📎Genre: Angst | Romance | Drama | Hurt/Comfort | Jealousy

⚠️ Warnings:

→ Emotional Content → Mild Violence → Psychological Themes → Mild Language

The Avengers compound buzzed with the quiet hum of post-mission decompression. The air smelled of coffee and antiseptic, a strange mix of home and hospital that clung to the walls after a fight. You leaned against the kitchen counter, a mug of tea cooling in your hands, the warmth doing little to ease the knot in your chest. The mission had been brutal, Hydra stragglers, a collapsed warehouse, too many close calls, but you’d all made it back. Bruised, battered, but alive.

Steve Rogers sat across from you at the table, his sketchpad open, pencil scratching softly as he doodled. His blonde hair caught the late afternoon light, giving him an almost ethereal glow, like the hero posters you’d seen as a kid. He was laughing, recounting a moment from the mission where Sam had tripped over a crate and swore loud enough to wake half the city.

“You should’ve seen his face, Y/N,” Steve chuckled, his blue eyes crinkling. “Like he was personally offended by that box.”

You snorted, the sound escaping before you could stop it. “Oh, I saw it. He’s probably writing a strongly worded letter to that crate as we speak.” Your sarcasm, sharp as ever, drew another laugh from Steve, and for a moment, the weight of the day lifted. You tossed your hair back, grinning, and added, “Bet he’ll challenge it to a duel next.”

The moment felt light, a rare reprieve from the chaos. But then you felt it, a prickle on the back of your neck, like someone was watching. You glanced toward the doorway and saw him. Bucky Barnes, your Bucky, stood there, his broad frame half-hidden in shadow. His metal arm glinted faintly, but it was his eyes that stopped you cold. Stormy blue, clouded with something you couldn’t quite name, pain, maybe, or something heavier.

“Bucky?” you called softly, setting your mug down. “You okay?”

He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and forced a tight smile. “Just tired, doll.” His voice was low, rough, like gravel underfoot. He turned and disappeared down the hall before you could press further, his boots echoing faintly.

Your stomach twisted. Bucky had been distant lately, more than usual. The Winter Soldier’s shadow still clung to him, you knew that, knew the nightmares, the guilt, the way he’d wake up gasping, hands clenched like he could still feel blood on them. But this was different. This wasn’t just the ghosts of his past; this was something new, something aimed at you.

Steve noticed too, his pencil pausing. “He’s been through a lot,” he said quietly, always the optimist, always trying to fix what was broken. “Give him time.”

You nodded, but the knot in your chest tightened. Time. You’d given Bucky time, fought alongside him, held him through the worst nights. So why did it feel like he was slipping through your fingers?

The next few days were a slow unraveling. Bucky was a ghost in the compound, slipping in and out of rooms before you could catch him. You’d find traces of him, a half-empty coffee mug, a jacket slung over a chair, but never him. Not really. You tried to keep busy, throwing yourself into work. You and Steve were tasked with analyzing mission data, poring over grainy footage of Hydra’s latest moves. It was tedious, but it kept you grounded, and Steve’s easy camaraderie was a welcome distraction.

“You’re good at this,” Steve said one afternoon, leaning over your shoulder to point at a discrepancy in the footage. “Spotted that faster than I would’ve.”

You smirked, tapping the screen. “That’s because you’re too busy drawing sunsets to notice the bad guys, Rogers.”

He laughed, a warm, rumbling sound, and nudged you playfully. “Hey, art’s my therapy. Don’t knock it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the banter felt good, normal. For a moment, you were just two friends, not soldiers in an endless war. But when you glanced up, you saw Bucky in the doorway again, his jaw tight, eyes fixed on the space between you and Steve. He didn’t say a word, just turned and left, his footsteps heavier this time.

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath, pushing back from the desk. Steve raised an eyebrow, but you waved him off. “I’ll be back.”

You found Bucky in the training room, the steady thump of his fists against a punching bag echoing like a heartbeat. His shirt was damp with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, and the metal arm gleamed with every strike. He didn’t look up as you approached, but you knew he sensed you. He always did.

“Bucky, talk to me,” you said, crossing your arms. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. What’s going on?”

He didn’t stop, his punches landing harder. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Bullshit.” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the rhythm of his hits. “You’re shutting me out, and I want to know why.”

He froze, his fist hovering mid-air, chest heaving. Slowly, he turned to face you, and the look in his eyes made your heart stutter, raw, unguarded, like he was carrying the weight of the world and it was crushing him.

“It’s not you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s me.”

You stepped closer, undeterred. “That’s not an answer, Bucky. I’m not some fragile thing you have to protect. Whatever’s eating you, we can face it together.”

His laugh was bitter, hollow. “Together? You think you can fix this?” He gestured vaguely to himself, to the scars on his soul you couldn’t see but knew were there. “You deserve better, Y/N. Someone who’s not… broken.”

Your breath caught, the words slicing deeper than you’d expected. “Don’t do that,” you said, voice shaking. “Don’t decide what I deserve. I chose you, Bucky. You.”

He looked away, jaw clenching, and you saw the flicker of something, guilt, fear, maybe both. “You shouldn’t have,” he muttered, and before you could respond, he grabbed his towel and walked out, leaving you standing alone in the empty gym.

The team dinner that night was supposed to be a reset, a chance to reconnect after the mission’s chaos. The common room was warm, filled with the clink of glasses and Sam’s loud laughter as he recounted another story. You sat between Nat and Wanda, trying to focus on their conversation, but your eyes kept drifting to Bucky. He was at the far end of the table, picking at his food, his expression unreadable.

Steve, ever the leader, stood to make a toast, his glass raised. “To the team,” he said, his voice steady. “And to Y/N, who saved my ass out there today. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

The room erupted in cheers, and you forced a smile, your cheeks warming under the attention. Steve’s grin was genuine, proud, and you couldn’t help but return it, even as you felt Bucky’s gaze on you, heavy and piercing.

When you looked his way, he was already standing, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’m turning in,” he said curtly, not meeting your eyes. He left before anyone could protest, the door swinging shut behind him.

The room fell quiet for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension. Nat raised an eyebrow at you, but you shook your head, not trusting your voice. Steve started to follow Bucky, but you grabbed his arm.

“Let me,” you said, your tone sharper than intended. Steve hesitated, then nodded, his eyes full of concern.

You found Bucky outside, sitting on a bench overlooking the compound’s grounds. The night was cool, the stars sharp against the sky, and he looked so small, so unlike the soldier you knew. You sat beside him, close but not touching, waiting for him to speak.

“You and Steve,” he said finally, his voice low, almost lost in the breeze. “You looked happy tonight.”

Your heart sank, realization dawning. “Bucky, it’s not like that. Steve’s my friend. You know that.”

He didn’t look at you, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. “He’s everything I’m not. Hero. Leader. Whole. You deserve that, Y/N. Not… this.” He gestured to himself, the metal arm glinting in the moonlight.

Anger flared in your chest, hot and sharp. “Stop it,” you snapped. “You don’t get to tell me what I deserve. I’m here, Bucky. With you. Why can’t you see that?”

He turned to you then, his eyes raw, haunted. “Because every time I look at you with him, I see the life you could have. No blood on his hands, no ghosts in his head. I’m holding you back.”

You reached for him, but he stood, stepping out of reach. “Bucky, please—”

“I need time,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry.” He walked away, leaving you on the bench, your hands trembling as you fought the urge to scream, to chase him, to make him see.

You didn’t notice Steve watching from the doorway, his expression heavy with guilt. He’d seen the whole thing, and for the first time, he wondered if his presence was doing more harm than good.

The Avengers compound felt colder after that night, like the air itself had absorbed Bucky’s absence. You sat on the bench outside long after he walked away, his dog tags heavy in your pocket, a habit you’d picked up, carrying them like a talisman against the growing distance between you. The stars above mocked you with their stillness, indifferent to the ache in your chest. You wanted to scream, to shake Bucky until he saw himself the way you did, not a monster, not broken, but a man worth fighting for. But his words, “I’m holding you back,” echoed like a curse, and you couldn’t unhear them.

Steve found you later, his silhouette looming in the doorway. “Y/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying that familiar weight of concern. “You okay?”

You laughed, sharp and bitter, wiping at your eyes. “Do I look okay, Rogers?” Your sarcasm was a shield, but it felt flimsy tonight. “He thinks I’m better off with you. You believe that?”

Steve’s jaw tightened, and he sat beside you, keeping a careful distance. “He’s wrong,” he said firmly. “Bucky’s got a lot of demons, but he’s not thinking straight. You’re the best thing in his life, Y/N.”

“Then why’s he running from me?” Your voice cracked, and you hated it, hated the vulnerability that spilled out. Steve reached out, then stopped, his hand hovering like he wasn’t sure you’d welcome it.

“He’s scared,” Steve said finally. “Scared he’ll hurt you, scared he’s not enough. I’ve seen it before, back in the war. He’d push people away when he thought he didn’t deserve them.”

You shook your head, fingers curling around the dog tags. “I’m not giving up on him, Steve. But I don’t know how to make him see.”

Steve’s eyes softened, but there was guilt there too, a shadow you hadn’t noticed before. “Just… don’t let him push you too far,” he said. “You deserve to be happy too.”

You didn’t respond, the weight of his words settling uneasily. Steve’s support was a lifeline, but it stung, knowing his presence was part of why Bucky was pulling away. You stood, brushing off your jeans. “I need to find him,” you said, more to yourself than to Steve, and headed back inside, the night air biting at your heels.

The next week was a slow bleed. Bucky was a phantom, slipping through the compound like he was made of smoke. You’d catch glimpses, his shadow in the gym, his laugh muffled through a wall, but he avoided you with a precision that hurt more than any fight. You threw yourself into training, hoping the physical strain would dull the ache. It didn’t. Every punch you threw at the bag felt like a plea, every dodge in sparring a dodge from the truth: Bucky was slipping away, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

You found him in the training room one evening, the air thick with the scent of sweat and rubber mats. He was alone, his fists pummeling a heavy bag with a rhythm that bordered on frantic. The metal arm moved like a machine, precise and relentless, but his face—God, his face, was a storm of pain, eyes dark and distant. You stood in the doorway, watching, your heart twisting at the sight of him unraveling.

“Bucky,” you said, stepping forward. Your voice was steady, but inside, you were shaking. “We need to talk.”

He didn’t stop, his fists hitting harder, the bag swaying. “Not now, Y/N.”

“Yes, now.” You crossed the room, planting yourself between him and the bag, forcing him to pause. His chest heaved, sweat dripping from his brow, and his eyes met yours, raw and guarded.

“What do you want from me?” he asked, voice low, almost a growl. “I told you, I need time.”

“And I told you that’s not an answer.” Your sarcasm slipped out, sharp as a blade. “You’ve been dodging me for days, Bucky. You don’t get to just walk away and call it ‘time.’ What’s going on with you?”

He stepped back, wiping his face with a towel, his movements jerky. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” You took a step closer, refusing to let him retreat. “You said I deserve better, that I’m better off with Steve. Is that what this is? You think I’m pining for Captain Perfect over there?”

His flinch was subtle, but you caught it, and it fueled your anger. “Don’t,” he said, his voice breaking. “Don’t make this about him.”

“Then what is it about?” you snapped, your hands balling into fists. “Because I’m standing here, telling you I want you, and you’re acting like I’m some damsel who needs saving from you. I’m not fragile, Bucky. I chose you.”

He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound that made your stomach lurch. “You chose wrong, doll.” He tossed the towel aside, his eyes blazing with something desperate. “You think you can handle this?” He gestured to himself, to the scars you couldn’t see but knew were there. “I’m a monster, Y/N. A broken machine. You deserve someone whole, someone like him.”

“Stop it!” Your voice echoed in the gym, sharp enough to make him freeze. “You don’t get to decide what I deserve. I’m not some prize to be handed off to Steve because you’re too scared to try. I love you, Bucky. You. Not him.”

His expression crumpled, just for a second, before the walls went back up. “You don’t get it,” he said, quieter now, almost defeated. “Every time I look at you with him, I see what you could have. A life without blood, without nightmares. I’m not enough.”

You reached for him, desperate to close the distance, but he stepped back, shaking his head. “I can’t do this,” he muttered, and before you could stop him, he grabbed his gear and left, the door slamming shut behind him.

You stood there, the silence deafening, your hands trembling as you fought the urge to scream. The dog tags in your pocket felt heavier, a reminder of what you were losing. You sank to the floor, pressing your palms to your eyes, willing the tears to stay down. You weren’t giving up, not yet, but God, it hurt.

Bucky’s absence became a physical thing, a void that followed you through the compound. He started taking solo missions, slipping out without warning, leaving only curt notes in the mission logs. “Recon. Back in 48 hours.” “Hydra lead. Don’t follow.” Each one was a knife, cutting deeper, and you hated how they echoed the notes he used to leave you, scribbled apologies, promises to talk later, always signed with a simple “B.” Once, you’d found a wild daisy tucked into one, a quiet gesture that made your heart ache. Now, there were no flowers, no softness, just cold efficiency.

You confided in Steve one night, sitting in the common room with a bottle of whiskey between you. The amber liquid burned your throat, loosening your tongue. “He’s killing himself out there,” you said, staring at the glass. “And he thinks he’s doing it for me.”

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Buck’s always been stubborn. He thinks pushing you away keeps you safe. But he’s wrong.”

You snorted, the sarcasm slipping out. “Great, Captain Obvious. Got any advice that isn’t a fortune cookie?”

He gave you a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll talk to him,” he said. “He listens to me, sometimes.”

“Don’t,” you said quickly, the whiskey making you bold. “You’ll make it worse. He already thinks I’m halfway in love with you.”

Steve’s face fell, guilt flickering across his features. “I never meant to—”

“I know,” you cut him off, softer now. “You’re his brother, Steve. I get it. But every time you’re around, he sees everything he’s not. And I don’t know how to fix that.”

Steve leaned back, his jaw tight. “I’ll back off,” he said quietly. “But you need to fight for him, Y/N. He’s worth it.”

You nodded, but the words felt hollow. You were fighting, but it was like punching water, every effort slipped through, leaving you exhausted.

You didn’t mean to overhear them. It was late, the compound quiet except for the hum of the air system. You were passing Steve’s office, heading to your room, when you heard Bucky’s voice, low and jagged.

“You don’t get to fix this, Steve.” He sounded angry, but there was a tremor beneath it, like he was holding himself together with fraying thread. “You’re the standard I’ll never meet. The hero. The one she should be with.”

You froze, your heart lurching. Steve’s voice came next, calm but firm. “You’re wrong, Buck. Y/N loves you. She’s fighting for you, and you’re pushing her away.”

“She deserves better,” Bucky snapped, and you could hear the clink of his metal arm, like he was gripping something too tight. “You saw her with you, laughing, happy. That’s what she needs, not… this.”

“Bucky, stop,” Steve said, his voice rising. “You’re not a monster. You’re my brother, and you’re enough. But you’ve got to let her in.”

There was a long silence, and you held your breath, waiting for Bucky’s response. When it came, it was barely a whisper, but it broke you all the same. “I can’t. Not when I’m like this.”

Footsteps echoed, and you ducked into a shadowed alcove, your pulse racing. Bucky stormed past, his face a mask of pain, and you pressed a hand to your mouth to stifle a sob. He didn’t see you, didn’t know you’d heard, but his words carved themselves into your heart: I can’t. Not when I’m like this.

You slid down the wall, the dog tags digging into your palm. Steve emerged a moment later, his expression heavy, and when he saw you, he froze. “Y/N…”

“Don’t,” you said, your voice shaking. “Just… don’t.”

He nodded, respecting your space, but the guilt in his eyes was unmistakable. You stayed there, alone in the dark, as the truth settled in: Bucky wasn’t just pulling away, he was letting you go, and you didn’t know if you could pull him back.

The compound was too quiet, the kind of quiet that pressed against your eardrums like a warning. It had been days since you overheard Bucky’s words to Steve “I can’t. Not when I’m like this.” and they haunted you, looping in your mind like a broken record. You carried his dog tags in your pocket, their weight a constant reminder of the man slipping through your fingers. You’d tried to reach him, leaving notes by his door, texting him mission updates laced with pleas to talk, but Bucky was a ghost, disappearing into solo missions with nothing but curt log entries: “Hydra cell. 72 hours.” No flowers, no apologies, just absence.

You threw yourself into work, analyzing data, training until your muscles screamed, anything to drown out the ache. But every night, you’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if Bucky was right, maybe you were fighting for something already lost. Your sarcasm, usually a shield, felt brittle now, cracking under the weight of his silence.

Then came the call. A late-night alert from Sam: “Barnes is down. Med bay, now.” Your heart stopped, the world tilting as you ran, boots pounding against the cold tile. Sam met you outside the med bay, his face grim. “He went solo again,” he said, voice low. “Hydra trap. Got him pretty bad.”

“Is he—” You couldn’t finish, the words choking you.

“He’s stable,” Sam said, squeezing your shoulder. “But he’s not in a good place, Y/N. Not just the injuries.”

You nodded, pushing past him into the med bay. The sterile smell hit you first, sharp and clinical, followed by the sight of Bucky on a gurney. His shirt was torn, blood seeping through bandages on his chest and arm. His face was pale, eyes half-open, staring at nothing. The metal arm was scratched, glinting dully under the fluorescent lights. You wanted to scream, to shake him for being so reckless, but you swallowed it down, your hands trembling as you approached.

“Bucky,” you said, voice barely steady. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He blinked slowly, his gaze flickering to you, then away. “Had to be done,” he muttered, voice rough, like he’d swallowed glass. “Hydra doesn’t wait.”

“Neither do I,” you snapped, your sarcasm a thin veil over your fear. “You can’t keep doing this, running off alone like you’re some martyr. You’re not invincible, Bucky.”

He didn’t respond, just closed his eyes, and the silence cut deeper than any blade. You pulled a chair beside him, the metal scraping loudly, and sat, refusing to let him shut you out. “Talk to me,” you said, softer now, pleading. “You’re killing me with this. What’s going on?”

His jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was low, raw. “You know what’s going on. I told you, Y/N. You deserve better than this.” He gestured weakly to himself, to the bandages, the scars, the weight of his past. “Every time I see you with Steve, I see it, a life without my baggage. No blood, no nightmares. Just… happiness.”

Your breath hitched, anger and heartbreak colliding. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” you said, voice shaking. “I’m not some naive girl chasing a fairy tale with Steve. He’s my friend, Bucky. You’re the one I love. Why can’t you see that?”

He looked at you then, his eyes stormy, haunted. “Because I’m not enough,” he said, each word a wound. “I see you laughing with him, and it’s like I’m back in the forties, watching Steve become the hero while I’m just… the guy who falls. I’m holding you back, Y/N. I can’t give you what he can.”

Tears burned your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “You’re tearing us apart by deciding for me,” you said, leaning closer, your voice fierce. “I don’t want Steve’s life. I want you, nightmares, scars, all of it. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile flickering, sad and broken. “Because I love you too much to let you settle for this.” He reached out, his flesh hand brushing yours, but then he pulled back, wincing as he shifted. “I need to protect you, even if it’s from me.”

You grabbed his hand before he could retreat fully, holding tight. “Don’t you dare,” you said, voice cracking. “Don’t you dare walk away from me, Bucky Barnes. I’ve fought for you, bled for you. You don’t get to throw that away because you’re scared.”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought you’d reached him, thought the walls might crumble. But then he pulled his hand free, slow and deliberate, and the coldness in his gaze made your heart plummet. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and it sounded final, like a door slamming shut.

He turned his head away, and you stood, your chair scraping back, the sound echoing in the sterile room. “You’re a coward,” you said, voice low, venomous. “Not for your past, but for this. For giving up on us.”

You stormed out, the dog tags burning a hole in your pocket, your vision blurring with unshed tears. You didn’t see the way Bucky’s hand clenched into a fist, or the way his breath hitched, like he was fighting not to call you back.

You found yourself in the common room, the whiskey bottle from last week still on the table, half-empty. You poured a glass, the burn grounding you as you sank onto the couch. The dog tags were in your hand now, the metal warm from your grip. You traced his name, James B. Barnes, and wondered when it had all gone so wrong.

Steve found you there, his footsteps hesitant. “Y/N,” he said, pausing when he saw your face. “What happened?”

You laughed, sharp and bitter, the sarcasm slipping out. “Oh, you know, just another day of Bucky deciding I���m better off with Captain Perfect. He’s gone, Steve. Really gone this time.”

Steve sat beside you, his shoulders slumping. “He’s not thinking straight,” he said, but the words felt hollow, like he knew they wouldn’t fix this. “He’s trying to protect you.”

“From what?” you snapped, turning to face him. “From him? From love? I’m so tired of everyone trying to protect me by breaking my heart.” Your voice broke, and you hated it, hated the way Steve’s guilt mirrored your own pain.

“I should’ve stayed out of it,” Steve said quietly, his eyes fixed on the floor. “I saw how he looked at us, and I should’ve backed off. I didn’t mean to make him feel like this.”

You sighed, the fight draining out of you. “It’s not your fault, Steve. You’re his brother. He’s just… lost in his own head.” You held up the dog tags, the chain dangling. “He left these in the med bay. Like he’s cutting me out for good.”

Steve reached out, then stopped, his hand falling back. “He’ll come back,” he said, but it sounded more like a hope than a promise. “He always does.”

You didn’t respond, just stared at the tags, the weight of his absence crushing you. You wanted to believe Steve, wanted to believe Bucky would come back, but the finality in his voice “I’m sorry” echoed louder.

The next morning, you found the note. It was tucked under your door, folded neatly, Bucky’s familiar scrawl on the front: Y/N. Your heart leapt, then sank, as you opened it.

Y/N, I’m sorry for everything. You’re the best thing I ever had, but I’m no good for you. Not like this. Steve’s the kind of man you deserve, someone who can give you a life without shadows. I’m going where I can’t hurt you anymore. Don’t come after me. - B.

A single wild daisy was pressed inside, its petals fragile, a ghost of the gestures he used to make when things were simpler. You clutched the note, the flower crumbling in your shaking hands, and sank to the floor. The tears came now, hot and relentless, as the truth hit: Bucky was gone, and he’d taken your heart with him.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, the note crumpled in your fist, when Steve knocked softly. “Y/N?” His voice was cautious, like he knew what he’d find. He stepped inside, his eyes landing on the note, then the daisy, and his face fell.

“He left,” you said, voice hollow. “He really left.”

Steve knelt beside you, his hand hovering before settling on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he said, and you could hear the guilt, the weight of his role in this mess. “I’ll find him, Y/N. I promise.”

You shook your head, the dog tags clinking in your pocket. “He doesn’t want to be found, Steve. Not by me.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue, just sat with you in the silence, the weight of Bucky’s absence filling the room. You wanted to scream, to blame Steve, to blame yourself, but all you could do was hold the note, the daisy’s broken petals a reminder of everything you’d lost.

The days after Bucky’s departure blurred into a haze of grief and defiance. His note “Don’t come after me” sat on your nightstand, the pressed daisy now brittle, its petals curling like a fading memory. You’d read the words so many times they’d burned into your mind, each one a fresh cut. The dog tags stayed in your pocket, a heavy anchor, and every time your fingers brushed them, you saw his face, stormy eyes, broken smile, the man who thought he was saving you by leaving. You wanted to hate him for it, but love was a stubborn thing, rooting deeper with every ache.

You threw yourself into missions, your sarcasm sharper than ever, a blade to keep the pain at bay. The Avengers noticed, Nat’s raised eyebrow, Sam’s gentle nudges, but you brushed them off, claiming you were fine. You weren’t. Every night, you wrote letters to Bucky, unsent, pouring your heart onto pages you’d never send. “You’re an idiot, Barnes,” one began, your pen digging into the paper. “Thinking I’d ever choose Steve over you. Come back, you stubborn bastard, so I can yell at you in person.” The words were half-joke, half-prayer, a way to keep him close when he was God-knows-where.

Steve hovered, his guilt a palpable thing. He’d promised to find Bucky, but you’d told him to stay out of it, your voice sharp: “You’ve done enough, Rogers.” You didn’t mean it, not really, but his presence—his perfect, heroic shadow—still stung, a reminder of why Bucky left. Still, Steve was there, a steady friend, helping you through missions with a quiet understanding that made you feel both grateful and resentful.

Bucky moved like a shadow, drifting through forgotten towns and safehouses, chasing Hydra’s ghosts to outrun his own. He’d left the compound to protect you, to free you from his darkness, but every step away felt like tearing out his own heart. He carried a worn journal, pages filled with unsent letters to you, each one a confession he couldn’t voice. “Thinking of you,” he wrote in one, the words smudged from his grip. “Found a field of daisies today. Picked one, then felt like a fool. You’d laugh at me.” He never sent them, but writing kept you alive in his mind, a light in the void.

He hunted Hydra remnants, taking down safehouses with brutal efficiency, his metal arm a weapon and a curse. In a derelict warehouse, a Hydra scientist sneered, “You’ll never outrun what you’ve done, Soldier.” The words hit like a blade, echoing his fear that he’d never be more than a killer. But then a civilian he’d saved, a young woman with your fire in her eyes, thanked him, her voice trembling. “You didn’t have to help us,” she said. “But you did.” It cracked something in him, a sliver of doubt in his self-loathing.

Wakanda called him back. He arrived under a starlit sky, the air warm and heavy with promise. Shuri scanned his mind, confirming no trigger words remained, but it was Ayo who cut deeper, her voice calm but piercing: “You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore, but you’re not free until you choose to live, James.” They sat by a lake, the water reflecting the stars, and Bucky remembered a night with you, rain-soaked, laughing under a storm, your hand in his. The memory hurt, but it also anchored him, a reminder of what he’d left behind.

One night, in a rundown motel, he found a photo of you tucked in his journal, one he’d stolen from the compound, a candid shot of you laughing, your eyes bright. Not with Steve, but with him, after a rare good day. He stared at it, his thumb tracing your smile, and realized his fear of losing you to Steve was his own demon, not your truth. He wrote another letter, shorter this time: “I was wrong. I’m trying to be better. Wait for me, doll. Please.” He didn’t send it, but he kept the photo close, a spark of hope in the dark.

You became a force on missions, leading with a fire that surprised even Natasha. “You’re scarier than me now,” she teased, but her eyes held respect. You saved a teammate during a raid, pulling them from a collapsing safehouse with seconds to spare, your heart pounding with a realization: you and Bucky were fighting the same demons, proving your worth through action. It made you miss him more, not less, the dog tags a constant reminder of the man you refused to let go.

Your unsent letters piled up, a stack of raw emotion. “You think Steve’s my type?” one read, your sarcasm dripping. “He’s all apple pie and righteousness. I’d rather have your brooding ass any day.” Another was softer, vulnerable: “I see you in every shadow, Bucky. I’m still here, waiting.” Writing was your catharsis, a way to scream into the void without breaking.

Steve was your rock, but it wasn’t easy. During a quiet moment after a mission, he patched a cut on your arm, his touch gentle but heavy with guilt. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he said, his blue eyes searching yours. You almost leaned into him, craving comfort, but pulled back, the dog tags clinking in your pocket. “You’re family, Steve,” you said, voice firm. “But Bucky’s my heart. Don’t blur that line.” He nodded, respecting the boundary, but the moment lingered, a reminder of Bucky’s fears.

One night, you found a mission report Bucky had filed remotely, a brief note in his scrawl: “Target neutralized. Safehouse clear.” Tucked into the digital file was a photo—a single wild daisy, uploaded without context. Your breath caught, recognizing the gesture from the note he’d left, from the flowers he used to leave when things were simpler. It was a sign, faint but real, that he was still thinking of you.

The turning point came during a briefing. Steve shared a story about Bucky from the 1940s, how he’d risked everything to save a squad, his jaw set with the same stubborn love you knew. “He’s always fought for the people he loves,” Steve said, his eyes meeting yours. “Even when it hurts him.” You realized then that Bucky wasn’t just running from you—he was running from himself, and you weren’t going to let him.

You tracked his last known location, a small town in Eastern Europe, using mission logs and Sam’s intel. “You sure about this?” Sam asked, his voice soft. You nodded, clutching the dog tags. “He doesn’t get to decide my future,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear. You wrote one last letter, not to keep but to carry: “I’m coming for you, Bucky. No more running.”

You stood outside the compound, a duffel bag slung over your shoulder, the night air sharp against your skin. Steve was there, his silhouette familiar but heavy with unspoken words. “You’re going after him,” he said, not a question.

“Yeah,” you said, your sarcasm softened by resolve. “Someone’s gotta knock sense into that thick skull of his.”

Steve’s smile was faint, tinged with guilt. “I’m sorry, Y/N. For making this harder.”

You shook your head, the dog tags warm in your hand. “You’re not the problem, Steve. You’re his brother, and I’m grateful for that. But this is between me and Bucky now.”

He nodded, stepping back. “Bring him home,” he said, his voice low. “Both of you.”

You turned, the horizon stretching before you, a mix of fear and hope churning in your chest. Bucky was out there, carrying his own scars, his own letters, and you were done waiting. You’d find him, not to save him, but to fight for the life you both deserved.

The small town in Eastern Europe was a speck on the map, all cobblestone streets and flickering streetlights, the kind of place that felt like it was holding its breath. You’d tracked Bucky here through Sam’s intel and a stubborn refusal to let him go, the dog tags in your pocket a constant pulse against your thigh. Your duffel bag was slung over your shoulder, heavy with the weight of unsent letters, pages of sarcasm, love, and desperation you’d written to keep him close. “I’m coming for you, Bucky,” the last one read, tucked in your jacket, a vow you meant to keep.

The diner was at the edge of town, its neon sign buzzing faintly, casting a warm glow over the dusk. You’d heard whispers, Bucky had been here, helping locals, fixing things quietly, like he could outrun his past by building something new. Your heart pounded as you pushed open the door, the bell jingling softly. The air smelled of coffee and fried onions, and there he was, in a corner booth, his back to the wall, eyes scanning the room like a soldier who never stopped watching.

Bucky looked different, yet achingly the same. His hair was longer, tucked behind his ears, and his jacket was worn, patched at the elbows. The metal arm was hidden under a glove, but his eyes, those stormy blue eyes, were still haunted, though softer now, like the edge of a storm breaking. He froze when he saw you, his coffee mug pausing mid-air, and for a moment, the world stopped, just you and him in a diner at the end of the world.

“Y/N,” he breathed, voice rough, like he hadn’t spoken your name in months. Maybe he hadn’t.

You slid into the booth across from him, dropping your bag with a thud. “You’re a hard man to find, Barnes,” you said, your sarcasm a familiar shield, though your voice trembled. “Thought I’d have to fight a Hydra army to get to you.”

He didn’t smile, but his eyes softened, a flicker of the Bucky you loved. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, but there was no conviction, just a tired echo of his old refrain.

“Too bad,” you shot back, leaning forward. “You don’t get to tell me where I belong. Not anymore.” You pulled the stack of letters from your bag, dropping them on the table with a soft slap. “These are for you. Been writing them since you left. Figured you’d want to know I’m still pissed.”

His gaze fell to the letters, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for them but didn’t trust himself. “Y/N, I—”

“No,” you cut him off, your voice sharp but cracking. “You don’t get to apologize yet. You left, Bucky. You left a damn note and a daisy, like that was enough. Do you know what that did to me?” You pulled the dog tags from your pocket, setting them beside the letters, the metal glinting in the dim light. “I carried these every day, hoping you’d come back. Hoping I wasn’t fighting for nothing.”

His face crumpled, the walls he’d built trembling. “I thought I was protecting you,” he said, voice low, raw. “Every time I saw you with Steve, I saw the life you could have. No blood on his hands, no nightmares waking him up. I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing.”

You laughed, bitter and broken. “Protecting me? By breaking my heart? Real heroic, Bucky.” You pushed the letters closer, your fingers brushing his. “Read them. See what you left behind.”

He hesitated, then opened the top letter, his eyes scanning your words. “You’re an idiot if you think Steve’s my type,” he read silently, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “I’d rather have your brooding ass any day.” His breath hitched, and he looked up, eyes glassy. “You wrote this?”

“Every night,” you said, softer now, the sarcasm fading. “Kept me sane. Kept you close.”

He reached into his jacket, pulling out a worn journal, its pages dog-eared. “I wrote to you too,” he admitted, sliding it across the table. “Never sent them. Didn’t think I had the right.” He opened it to a page, his handwriting jagged but careful. “Found a field of daisies today. Picked one, then felt like a fool. You’d laugh at me.” A pressed daisy fell out, its petals faded but whole, and your heart clenched, remembering the one he’d left with his note.

“You kept daisies,” you said, voice barely a whisper, picking up the fragile flower. “Even after you ran.”

“Couldn’t help it,” he said, his voice breaking. “You’re in everything, Y/N. Every damn thing.”

You leaned forward, your hands shaking. “Then why did you leave? Why’d you let Steve’s shadow make you think you weren’t enough?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, his eyes dropping to the table. “Because I see him, and I see everything I’m not. He’s the hero, the guy who always does right. I’m the one with blood on my hands, with a past I can’t erase. I thought you deserved that, someone whole.”

You reached across, grabbing his hand, metal and flesh, holding tight. “I don’t want whole, Bucky. I want you. Scars, nightmares, all of it. I’ve been fighting for you since the day we met, and I’m not stopping now.”

His eyes met yours, raw and searching, and for the first time, you saw the walls crack. “I was wrong,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “I thought I was saving you, but I was just… scared. Scared I’d ruin you.”

“You didn’t,” you said, tears spilling now. “But you hurt me, Bucky. You hurt us.”

He stood, moving to your side of the booth, and before you could protest, he pulled you into his arms, his embrace tight, desperate. “I’m done running,” he whispered against your hair, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, doll. I’m here now.”

You clung to him, the dog tags pressed between you, the letters scattered on the table. “You better be,” you mumbled into his chest, your sarcasm a faint spark through the tears. “Because I’m not chasing you across the world again.”

He laughed, a shaky, broken sound, and pulled back to look at you, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, but there was no self-loathing now, just awe.

“You don’t get to decide that,” you said, echoing your words from the med bay, but softer, a promise. “We’re in this together, Bucky. No more running.”

He nodded, his forehead resting against yours, and for the first time in months, you felt whole. The diner faded, the world narrowing to his warmth, his breath, the steady beat of his heart under your hand.

You didn’t see Steve until you were back at the compound, days later, your hand clasped in Bucky’s as you stepped off the quinjet. The journey back had been quiet, filled with small gestures, his thumb tracing circles on your hand, your head on his shoulder, the unsent letters now shared, read aloud in a motel room as you both laughed and cried. The daisy was tucked into your bag, a symbol of what you’d fought for.

Steve was waiting on the tarmac, his silhouette familiar, his expression unreadable until he saw you both. His eyes softened, a faint smile breaking through the guilt that had shadowed him for months. “You found him,” he said, his voice low, warm.

“Damn right I did,” you said, your sarcasm lighter now, a grin tugging at your lips. “Took a whole continent, but I’m stubborn like that.”

Bucky’s hand tightened around yours, and he stepped forward, facing Steve. “I owe you an apology,” he said, his voice steady. “I let my head mess me up, made you the bad guy. You’re my brother, Steve. Always will be.”

Steve’s smile widened, and he clapped Bucky on the shoulder, careful not to linger too long. “You’re enough, Buck,” he said simply. “Always were.”

You felt Bucky’s tension ease, the weight of Steve’s shadow lifting, and you squeezed his hand, a silent reminder: You’re my home. Steve stepped back, his gaze flickering to you, a nod of respect and gratitude. “Take care of each other,” he said, then turned, walking away, his role in your story finally at peace.

Under a starlit sky, you and Bucky stood outside the compound, the air cool, the world quiet. He pulled you close, his lips brushing your forehead, a gesture so soft it made your chest ache. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice a vow. “Not without you.”

You smirked, leaning into him. “Good, because I’m not signing up for another world tour to find you.” But your arms wrapped around him, holding tight, and the dog tags in your pocket felt lighter, like they’d finally found their place.

The future wasn’t certain, Bucky’s nightmares wouldn’t vanish, and your scars, both seen and unseen, would linger. But as you stood there, hand in hand, the stars above felt like witnesses to a promise: you’d face it all together, no more running, no more shadows.

See my other stories here >>> Masterlist <<<

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Under the Mall Lights

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Warning: fluff, Scoops Ahoy era, flirting, classic Steve

Authors note: I hope yall enjoy, Season 3 Steve is peak

Word Count: 1.2k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The fluorescent lights of Starcourt Mall flickered softly overhead, casting a warm, almost magical glow across the bustling hallways. You could hear the hum of arcade games and the distant chatter of shoppers, but your focus was on the Scoops Ahoy counter. Specifically, on the guy behind it, wearing that ridiculous sailor uniform and scooping ice cream like it was his life’s mission.

Steve Harrington, in his blue-and-white striped shirt and dorky sailor hat, still somehow managed to look effortlessly charming. You'd teased him about the uniform when he first got the job, but now, every time you visited, it was hard not to find the whole thing endearing.

As you approached the counter, Steve noticed you and grinned, leaning forward as though you were his favorite customer. "Well, well, look who sailed into my harbor," he greeted, putting on his best pirate accent, which wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

“Oh, wow, I’d like to report a robbery,” you joked, crossing your arms. “Because that was possibly the worst pirate impression I’ve ever heard.”

He clutched his chest dramatically, gasping. “Harsh, but fair. What can I say? They don’t pay me to act. They pay me to scoop.” He held up a fresh scoop of mint chocolate chip as proof, eyes twinkling.

You leaned on the counter, matching his gaze. “So, what do I have to do to get the ‘good stuff’? You know, the special Steve Harrington treatment.”

He smirked, giving you an exaggerated wink. “Oh, the *good stuff,* huh? That’s reserved for *very* important people.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But I think I could make an exception for you.”

Steve slid over a cone stacked with your favorite flavor, topped with a sprinkle of chocolate chips and a cherry. “For my favorite customer,” he said, the playful tone replaced by something softer, more genuine.

You took the cone, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “This really is the good stuff,” you teased, licking the ice cream, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered on you.

"Can I get a thank-you?” he asked, tapping the counter, though his grin told you he didn’t actually care.

“Oh, absolutely. Thank you, kind sailor,” you said in a mock-serious voice, giving him a little salute.

“Anytime,” he replied, leaning against the counter with that signature Steve confidence. But there was something more in his eyes tonight, a kind of longing that made your heart beat just a little faster.

“Maybe you should give me a tour of the *real* Scoops Ahoy sometime,” you joked, only half-kidding.

His smile widened, and he leaned even closer. “Or maybe I could give you a tour of Starcourt, after hours. Just the two of us. What do you say?”

You looked up, catching the sparkle in his eyes, the easy confidence that still made you feel weak at the knees. "I’d say that’s the best idea you’ve had all day."

“Perfect,” he murmured, flashing you a grin as he grabbed a napkin and handed it to you with a wink. “Be ready at closing time. I’ll be the guy in the dorky sailor hat.”

With a laugh, you took the napkin, feeling like the luckiest person in Starcourt Mall. And as you walked away, you heard his voice behind you, low but unmistakable, “Can’t wait.”

The mall was nearly empty by the time closing hour rolled around, its usual lively chaos replaced by a peaceful stillness. You waited near the fountain as planned, watching as the last few stragglers left the building. And then, there he was—Steve, still in that dorky sailor outfit, looking a little out of place but somehow even more charming for it.

He walked over with that confident swagger he had, hands in his pockets, grinning like he’d just won a prize. "You ready for the grand tour?" he asked, tilting his head toward the now-empty corridors of Starcourt.

"Absolutely," you replied, matching his smile, nerves dancing in your stomach.

Steve took your hand, leading you down the quiet halls, giving you a "tour" that was a mix of ridiculous jokes, half-true trivia, and a few random stories about his days in the mall. He told you about the time he accidentally spilled an entire tub of rocky road on his boss’s shoes, and how he and Robin once tried to see how much fudge they could eat before feeling sick. You laughed at every story, feeling that nervousness fade with each word.

Eventually, the two of you ended up in the movie theater, where Steve had somehow snagged a key to sneak in. “VIP access,” he said proudly, letting you into the empty theater. He’d brought popcorn and candy from the concession stand, and after a bit of fumbling with the projector, he got it to start.

“Okay, now, prepare yourself,” he whispered dramatically as the movie started. “It’s only the best cheesy horror movie of all time.”

"Can’t wait," you whispered back, sitting down next to him. In the dark, with the soft glow of the screen lighting up his face, you noticed just how close he was sitting, his arm brushing against yours, his hand just barely grazing your leg.

Halfway through the movie, Steve stretched his arm behind you in the classic “movie theater move,” but he was so clearly trying to be smooth about it that it made you laugh.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence, but you could see him blushing.

“Oh, nothing,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. "Just… very subtle, Harrington."

He chuckled, looking down at his lap as if suddenly shy. “Hey, I had to try.”

You shook your head, smiling, and without giving it a second thought, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Steve froze, his eyes going wide as he looked at you. Then, with a small, uncertain smile, he reached up, cupping your face gently.

This time, when you leaned in, your lips met his. The kiss was soft and slow, like he was savoring every moment. His hand slid down to rest on your back, pulling you closer, and the rest of the world seemed to melt away. It was just you, him, and the quiet of the empty theater.

When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed, like he was memorizing the feeling.

“So… that was, um…” he started, trying to find the right words. “...definitely better than scooping ice cream.” You both burst into quiet laughter, and he kissed you again, softer this time, like he couldn’t quite believe you were there with him.

As the movie played on in the background, you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, your fingers tangled together. And you knew, in that moment, that this wasn’t just a summer fling or a casual date. It was something more, something real.

When the movie ended, he walked you out of the mall, holding your hand and sneaking glances at you, like he was afraid the night had been a dream. At the door, he stopped, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

“So,” he said, his voice a little shaky. “Can we do this again sometime? Officially?”

“Definitely,” you replied, your heart pounding as you squeezed his hand. “I’d like that.”

And with one last kiss under the dim mall lights, you left with a new kind of warmth in your chest—the start of something that felt like it had been waiting to happen all along.

Hope you all enjoyed! Please like and Reblog! -Midnight💜

[eddiethebanished]

It’s Only Fair

leadsinger!reader

Summary- Eddie’s working as a bouncer at The Hideout on ladies night, watches your band play.

Warnings- I’m not really sure if there are any? Please let me know if there are so I can learn.

Eddie had never seen so many women, especially at The Hideout of all places. By the time he got to work there was a line wrapped around the building.

He had been working at The Hideout as a bouncer for a few weeks, in exchange his band would be able to play more gigs at a reduced fee. But he had yet to work a Wednesday night,

which as it turns out was ladies night. Reduced price on drinks and girl bands gracing the stage.

With a groan Eddie pushed open the door to let the ladies in at 7pm sharp. A few had already been getting rowdy, banging on the door begging for early entry. From then on it was the same monotonous movements. Check ID, take the cover charge, nod his head toward the door signaling admission. Ignoring the giggles and flirtatious batting of eyelashes from some of the patrons, Eddie could tell by the sea of bright neon color dresses he most likely wouldn’t be hearing his preferred type of music tonight.

“Harrington?” Eddie asked, surprised to see the shaggy brown haired boy standing in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

Steve scoffed. “It’s ladies night, Munson. Plus, Robins band is playing tonight and their singer is like a total babe.”

Eddie chuckled and patted steve on the shoulder as he walked through the door. After what felt like eternity of checking IDs, taking the cover charge, and nodding his head towards the entrance, the line ended, save for a few stragglers here and there.

The first band took the stage with big teased hair full of aqua net, they wore matching jazzercise outfits and played the most headache inducing pop music that would even have Cyndi Lauper nauseous. Eddie made his way to the bar in hopes David the bartender could make him something to ease the pain of the night.

“Want your regular, Ed?” David asked while wiping down the bar.

“Sure, better make it a double” he said over the sound of the bands pitchy singer.

“Never worked a ladies night before huh?” Eddie shook his head, David continued “It’s not that bad, sure the music isn’t great but there’s rarely any fights to break up, and I make a killing in tips!” Eddie nodded and slid a five over to David before he was called into a sea of girls ordering shots and half priced cocktails. Eddie took up residence at a table near the door where a bold Steve Harrington was striking out with every girl he flirted with.

The second band who took the stage was just fine, the third band came on late, drunk, and ended with the bassist barfing on the drummers cymbals. After a brief intermission to clean the stage, the lights dimmed. People scrambled from their barstools and dark corners to the middle of the room. Shouts and whoops erupted as the band took the stage.

“This is Robin’s band.” Steve said sitting up in his seat and nudging Eddie. One by one the band members stepped up on stage, Robin with her drumsticks gave a silly wave towards Eddie and Steve, the latter of which shouted out a “Woo!” The bassist arrived next blowing a kiss towards the audience, followed by the guitarist. They each had their own unique style that worked together, it showed cohesiveness without needing matching jazzercise outfits.

When the lead singer got on stage the crowd went wild, eddies eyes widened. Black oversized t-shirt with black shorts you could barely see, fishnets and doc martens. Eddie shifted in his seat to get a better look.

“That’s y/n.” Steve said looking at Eddie with a knowing smirk.

“Alright Hawkins how are we doing tonight?!” You said into the microphone. The crowd responded with cheers and applause as you started your first song. It was a cover of “Love Will Tear Us Apart” by Joy Division. By the end of the first chorus Eddie was enamored.

When the song ended, you grabbed your placid blue fender strat and slipped the strap over your head. Eddie wasn’t enamored- he was in love.

“Watch it, Munson. You’re drooling.” Steve said.

“Shut up, Harrington.” He said flatly.

“This one-” you started while plucking a few strings, “is dedicated to all the shitty guys in Hawkins that broke our hearts!” Jumping into an original song about dancing with the devil and having your girlhood stolen, Eddie realized why all these people were at this shitty bar. They were here to see you.

When your set ended, Steve nodded his head to go over to the stage with him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to your future wife.” He added a wink and chuckled to himself. Eddie downed the rest of his drink and followed after Steve.

“Hey look, Steve, you really don’t need to-“ He was cut off.

“Oh come on, have some fun.” Steve said walking through the crowd.

“Hey guys!” Robin beamed “What did you think of our set? We’ve been rehearsing like crazy and I really think it paid off!” Robin rambled clutching her drumsticks.

“It was great, Robin-“ Steve began, he put his arm on her shoulder and said in a lower tone “where’s y/n? I think our boy Eddie here might want to meet her.” He grinned.

“Oh! She’s putting her stuff in the van, I’ll go get her!” Before Eddie could object, Robin bounced out of the propped open side door where he could see the band members putting equipment in the trunk. Robin returned shortly arm in arm with the lead singer, the girl of Eddie’s dreams.

“Steve, you know y/n.” Robin said, a grin plastered to her face. Steve nodded his head toward you. “This is our friend Eddie.” Robin said with a gentle push on your back towards where Eddie was standing.

“Hi.” Eddie said, with his signature smile, a little dimple forming on his cheek.

“Hey, I know you, you work here right?” You responded after taking a sip from your water. Eddie opened his mouth to respond when-

“Yeah Eddie is the bouncer, he’s also in this band that plays here Tuesday nights.” Robin answered for Eddie.

“Here, Robin I’ll help you with your drums okay?” Steve said raising his eyebrows and nodding his head towards Eddie. As they walked away Steve turned back and gave Eddie a thumbs up.

“What kind of music do you play?” You asked stepping closer to the curly haired boy.

“Uhh Metal, mostly. I’m also frontman and play guitar.” He responded nervously, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. You rocked back and forth on your heels and looked up into his dark brown eyes.

“I’ll have to come check you guys out, it’s only fair after you seeing us play.”

“Fair- right I have to warn you though, it’s nothing like tonight,” Eddie started looking around at the crowd still lingering after your set. “We get about five drunk guys at the bar and that’s it.” He chuckled.

“Well I can guarantee there will be one more person at your next show.” You smiled sweetly, Eddie’s eyes couldn’t help dart to your lips, they looked so soft with a lingering shine from the gloss that must have worn off while you were singing. Realizing he was staring for a beat too long he cleared his throat and looked toward the open door. “So do you need help carrying anything out?”

“No, I’m all packed up but thank you.” You responded politely.

“In that case,” Eddie’s voice deepened as he inched closer to you. “can I buy you a drink?”

A blush crept across your cheeks as you nodded silently. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bar where two stools had just become available.

David walked over to you two slinging a rag over his shoulder. “Hey rockstars, what can I get for you?” You both gave him your drink orders and faced each other on the stools.

“Okay, musician to musician, what did you think of the set?” You asked biting your lip nervously.

“Honestly, I was surprised.” He said, sipping from his beer bottle.

“Surprised we didn’t play covers of Madonna or Bananarama?” You asked while smiling into your drink.

“You could have sang anything and it would have sounded amazing.” He started. “When I came in today I couldn’t believe how many people were lined up to get into The Hideout of all places. But when I saw you up there, it all clicked”

You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh stop, they’re here for the half priced drinks, that’s all.” You said self-deprecatingly.

“Hey, all those people stayed after that bassist puked all over the drums.” you both laughed together. “You were a natural up there.” Eddie’s eyes met yours, still with a smile on his face.

“Thank you.” You said while holding his gaze.

“Hey y/n, sorry” Robin bounced up to you both, “My curfew on school nights is 11 and it is now-“ she looked at her watch. “12:30, and you drove so do you think we could…” she trailed off.

“Yes! Shit, Robin, I’m sorry.” You reached for your pocket pulling out a few stray dollar bills, about to place them on the bar. Eddie quickly shook his head.

“Nope, it’s on me. Employee discount.” He said with a wink.

“Aw, thank you, I’ll make sure I buy your drink when I come see your show.” You said putting the money back in the pocket of your shorts while standing up from the barstool.

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie said with a shrug.

“Come on, fair is fair!” You giggled and leaned close to his ear. “I’ll see you Tuesday.” You whispered softly before Robin pulled you away.

Eddie could get used to working ladies night.

[madroxed]

WIP GAME

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word.

I was tagged by @floating-in-the-blue 🖤

My word was HEART.

Her mama’s cooked beef stew and cornbread, a pie already cooling on the side, brown sugar and cherries in the air, and Kate sets the table and pours iced tea from a pitcher into everyone’s waiting glasses.

The visiting preacher’s there, too, talking to Scott in a slow, toneless voice that’s making her brother’s eyes glaze over, and normally Kate would go rescue him, if only so she doesn’t have to hear him complain later, but today her attention’s too focused elsewhere. The brothers — “I’m Seth, this is Richie. Pleased to meet you.” — are sat politely in their assigned seats, no sign of anything except perfect manners if you ignore the way their eyes seem to be taking in every little thing.

Kate knows her house ain’t that interesting.

[from dusk till dawn ∙ seth/kate/richie]

Edwin’s half bent out the window making soft, coo-ing noises at the crow he’s convinced is Monty. He’s usually right about these sorts of things, and Monty was a good sort in the end so Charles probably shouldn’t be hoping that it’s just a regular bird and not the sometimes-boy obsessed with his best friend.

Or whatever.

[dead boy detectives ∙ charles/edwin]

After, stood on the front steps in the scorching sun, she says goodbye to the last of the stragglers and waits until their shadows cool her skin.

“Kate,” Richie says, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

“Kate,” Seth says, smile dangerous on his lips.

“Come on,” she says and leads them away, towards the place she knows their car is waitin’. They don’t question it, just follow half a step behind and linger as she slides into the back seat, leather sticking to her thighs.

[from dusk till dawn ∙ seth/kate/richie part ii]

“Ready?” he asks.

Ready, she thinks. Readier than she’s ever been for anything in her life. So ready she can’t put it into words, just nods and knows he understands anyway.

[stranger things ∙ steve & robin]

The first time Simon sees Raphael again it's in the middle on a party - a rager, really, complete with neon and thudding music and fancy designer drugs Simon's never been inclined to try - and he's surrounded by his people, celebrating Charlie's deathday in morbid chaos. Simon's sweating profusely, his hair in disarray, and of course - of course - he's wearing nothing except a pair of bright red booty shorts with 'vamp' bejewelled on the ass.

Hello, ninety years. Good to see absolutely nothing has changed.

[shadowhunters ∙ simon/raphael]

No pressure tagging: @fake-mouthstatic @coyotesuspect @shanastoryteller @softbrah @thisissirius @doreyg @lavellenchanted

Your word is: WARM

[bedlamsbard]

late to the party, but trick or treat, if you're still up to some!

You get...a cut scene from Home 8 about Peggy hating the whole Captain America thing! (A cut scene I thought I'd lost by accidentally deleting the whole thing but stumbled over it today.)

Rose leaned her hip against the next sink over and watched Peggy worriedly.  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. “Before you go back out there, I mean.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Peggy said coldly, dabbing rouge onto her cheeks to try and even out some of the blotchiness left behind from her tears.  She wasn’t the kind of woman who cried prettily.  “Steve married another woman, and now she’s going to be on the cover of every newspaper and magazine from here to Timbuktu.”

“Did you want to be?” Rose asked shrewdly.  “On the magazine covers, I mean, not the other part.”

“Of course not,” Peggy said, turning to look at her.  She had watched Steve sit – well, stand – through too many photoshoots over the course of the past year and a half to want any part of that.  “The whole thing is absurd, I’m astonished that Phillips is still letting it go on when he has the opportunity to let it die a natural death.”

“The whole thi – what, Captain America?”

“American propaganda nonsense,” Peggy said, going back to fixing her makeup.  She had never really understood Steve’s insistence on sticking with the Captain America name and uniform, albeit with the latter redesigned for actual fieldwork instead of a stage show.  The shield was useful enough, but he hadn’t had to paint it red, white, and blue and he certainly hadn’t had to let himself be dragged around by General Eisenhower because the Yanks needed to be bucked up from time to time.

Peggy was well aware that he hadn’t had a choice in the matter – she knew Colonel Phillips had gotten into it with General Eisenhower a few times, even though under normal circumstances Phillips liked and respected Eisenhower – but was equally aware that getting dragged back and forth for the American propaganda machine had probably set the SSR back at least three months in the fight against Hydra.

Rose’s expression, visible in the mirror, was a little uncomfortable.  She was as aware as Peggy was that for whatever reason, Captain America mattered to Steve, but knew as well as Peggy did that it wasn’t exactly convenient, at least not for the SSR.  Instead of being able to send Steve off with the Howling Commandos after the remnants of Hydra, the SSR was now getting dragged into the end stages of the European war  Not a bad thing in and of itself – after living through the Blitz and the V-1 and V-2 rocket attacks, Peggy was certainly ready for a little revenge – but with both the 107th and the Commandos redeployed to the front in Germany that they were going to lose some Hydra stragglers.  Either they would get away cleanly or they would be picked up by the Soviets, neither of which was a good option.

Peggy had watched a little of that afternoon’s photoshoot before she had gotten too disgusted with the whole thing and left to do something that was actually productive.  She had expected Steve’s long-suffering familiarity with the process; she hadn’t expected Natasha’s.  Sherman was, she had to admit, going to get some marvelous photographs out of it, the kind of pictures that would end up on film posters and magazine covers.  The idea of being commercialized like that, of being narrowed down to a handful of still images, gave Peggy hives; she had no idea how Steve put up with it.

No.  She didn’t want that.  She never had.

[sarahr0gers]

NAME: sarah  pollyanna  barnes-rogers. BIRTHDAY: 07/04  HOMETOWN: SHIELD  base  in  DC.  CURRENT RESIDENCE: portland  oregon  (changes  for  au's)OCCUPATION: teacher  (hero  in  her  spare  time)PARENTS: steve  rogers , bucky  barnes. SIBLINGS:  anastasia  barnes , jamie  barnes RELATIVES:  natalia  romanova , clint  barton , tony  stark , maria  hill SPOUSE:  verse  dependent. CHILDREN:  verse  dependent. HAIR COLOR: blonde. EYE COLOR: blue. HEIGHT: 5'7 WEIGHT: 170  lbs. BUILD: athletic. PIERCINGS: ears , naval. TATTOOS: tbd. SCARS/OTHER: lower  left  abdominal  scar  from  a  stab  wound.  

FACE CLAIM: hayden  panettiere. POSITIVE TRAITS: optimistic , good  leader , organize , kind , generous , motivated , honest. NEGATIVE TRAITS: doubtful , stubborn , anxious , grudg  holder. LIKES: music , art , reading , camping , cats , dogs , getting  away  from  it  all , coffee  shops , marathoning  tv  shows , cuddling  in  a  rain  storm , working  out. DISLIKES: ignorance , injustice , being  told  to  stay  put , being  taken  advantage  of , broccoli , politics. PSYCHOLOGICAL DIAGNOSIS: join  damage  in  her  shoulder , chronic  migraines. PHYSICAL DIAGNOSIS: adhd , ptsd , anxiety. BIO:

sarah  rogers  was  born  two  years  before  natalia  romanova  would  expose  HYDRA , and  bring  an  end  to  the  secret  organization , along  with  SHIELD , which  was  where  she  had  been  created.  HYDRA  used  the  dna  of  both  steve  rogers , and  james  barnes  in  hopes  of  making  the  next  super  soldier  that  would  continue  in  their  mission.  steve  and  bucky  found  out  about  her  existence , and  made  the  decision  to  take  her  and  raise  her  on  their  own.

both  steve  and  bucky  agreed  that  they  wanted  to  keep  her  as  far  away  from  anything  connected  to  the  world  she  had  come  from , they  moved  the  three  of  them  to  the  west  coast , buying  a  farm  in  oregon.  it  was  a  close  enough  drive  to  the  city  that  they  weren't  completely  cut  off , but  tucked  away  to  offer  safety.

growing  up  she  lived  a  mostly  normal  life.  she  went  to  school  like  any  other  kid , she  played  sports  and  made  friends.  steve  and  bucky  would  occasionally  leave  to  help  the  avengers  (though  it  was  steve  more  often  than  bucky)  and  when  that  happened , a  trusted  friend  would  come  and  watch  over  her.

over  the  course  of  her  growing  up , she  undoubtedly  caught  the  attention  of  varios  rogue  HYDRA  stragglers , and  various  other  enemies  of  her  parents , and  in  that  process , would  discover  that  she  had  an  enhanced  healing  ability , allowing  her  to  heal  at  a  much  more  excellorated  rate.

sarah  would  not  be  taken  in  the  blip , and  in  the  time  that  one  of  her  dad's  was  gone , she  became  a  teacher , as  well  as  helping  out  however  she  could  in  the  chaos  of  the  blip.

[jbbarnes]

Bucky had let his eyes fall closed again, breathing a little harder than before. For all the differences, kissing Steve still felt the same. The feeling of their lips slotting together, the taste, even Steve's little mannerisms – the kiss to his palm and cheek, his fingers grasping at the fabric of Bucky's pants – they all were as familiar as breathing. It helped settle a little of the grief in his heart. Steve's body might be different, but at least something of the man he loved was still in there. And if offering himself up for some probably life threatening, experimental bullshit wasn't the most Steve Rogers thing he'd ever heard –

The comment about the USO girls earned Steve a sharp flick on the ear. Bucky really wasn't in the mood for that particular brand of Rogers humour right now, missing Steve or no. He didn't take that kind of shit from any of the boys he'd marched with, he wasn't gonna take it from his punk best friend, no matter how big he got. Running around after Steve and three little girls had actually been better practice for this shithole that Bucky would have ever expected.

The bulk between his knees made him want to break down again, but he was quickly swallowing those responses. Like he'd bury the horror of those labs, would shrug off the hard labour they were all put to, like the fact he was nearly at death's door and had only survived thanks to the guys in that cage protecting him. He concentrated instead on the warmth of Steve being so close, even as his fingers gently pulled those fingers from his thighs.

"Get up here," he murmured, tugging lightly to indicate the space next to him on the cot. They would be lucky if their argument hadn't been overheard – most everyone was in the mess, but that didn't mean there weren't stragglers. And if someone followed that noise and saw them as they are now, they'd be lucky if they just got a blue ticket home. Emotions were still running high, their luck couldn't carry them forever.

"So," he said, looking down at the floor again. "How many more fellas like you we got to look forward to seeing runnin' around?"

bucky touches his face &* instantly , steve is small again. not in a bad way , but in the way that makes him feel safe. to know bucky's hands are the safest place he can be. here , nothing could harm him. every fear he'd suffered alone to get here was met with the warmth of knowing it had been worth it. bucky was safe &* whole &* still loved him , despite his anger.

steve doesn't look away from him as he eagerly presses his face into the others touch. doesn't shrink away as he turns his face enough to press a kiss to the others palm. intimacy was common between them the older they got -- not that steve thought it meant much of anything. he's always been dense in this department -- what had started as practice for girls had become frequent &* normal , &* always left his heart thundering away in his chest. even this new , stronger heart was not immune to bucky. that's just how best friends are , he convinced himself. one day they'd both find girls to settle down with &* be grateful they knew how to be intimate.

so he doesn't think much of the kiss. doesn't read into it as he doesn't even consider hesitating before leaning into it , his hands gripping at the fabric of the others pants there at his knees. doesn't consider that every muscle in his body that had been taut since bucky left finally released to allow him to melt into the other. bucky missed him. the kid who caused him so much fucking grief -- he missed him. it brings a smile to the super soldiers lips , along with a breathy little laugh. ❛ couldn't let you have all the fun out here. too many pretty uso girls.   ❜ he whispers the words as he brushes his lips against the others cheek , lips sweeping away the lines of salt there.

the hands at his knees slide farther up bucky's thighs , gently guiding them to part so that he can press forward , allowing him close as his form settles between them. he doesn't fit as easily as he once had. no matter ; he just wanted to be closer. ❛ ------- 'm sorry , buck. i just ... couldn't stand by.   ❜

[illusion-reality-steve]

November 1 was the day I created Blue Straggler 2 years ago! I wanted to draw something to celebrate his birthday, but unfortunately, I couldn’t come up with a drawing I was happy with. So instead, I’m going to share the warm-up sketch I did manage to finish. Have a Proto-Blue Straggler. You can tell him apart from Proto-Mite because of the details on his face ^^

Happy birthday to my blue space child!

[ID: a sketchy drawing of young Blue Straggler against a white background. He is a young man with chin-length wavy hair covering the left side of his face, with the faintest outline of galaxy substance peeking through his hair. He wears a lace up v-neck shirt with baggy sleeves and long trousers. He wears a cape with an open collar, which is draped over his shoulders. The end of the cape reaches his ankles. He looks up while holding his right hand up front of him. He has an awestruck expression with a diamond-shaped star twinkling in his right eye. End ID.]

[theladybarnes]

SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO? : CHAPTER FIVE

“Listen, don't take it so personally, okay? I don't like most people. He is in the vast majority.”

▸ summary: your curiosity leads you into joining a hunt ▸ characters: nancy wheeler, jonathan byers, (ft. steve harrington + dustin henderson) ▸ word count: 4,879 ▸ warnings: angst, mentions of stalking behavior,  ▸ series masterlist

There were only the sounds of leaves crunching under the soles of heavy feet, and light murmuring voices the morning of Will Byers’ funeral. After finding his body in the quarry, it would seem Jonathan moved forward right away with the arrangements for the funeral. 

 All the attendees were slowly moving in a single file on the way down to the gravesite. Giving you the chance to take notice of the grassy pathway. So dull and colorless. Most likely from the changing weather, but you couldn’t help but frown at it for being so lifeless on a day like this. The sky didn’t seem to get the memo as it shined a blue over the sky, sun shining bright alongside it. 

 You were thankful for the large dark gray overcoat that your Aunt Claudia had given you. Not only were not expecting to go to a funeral anytime soon, but the people in Hawkins seemed to dress in a different type of consertive way. It wasn’t like you needed any more curious eyes on you.

 Today it would be you who had the wandering eyes. All around there were different emotions going on. Starting with the Byers family, the man you assumed was Will’s father sat beside Jonathan, awkward while having a somber face. Jonathan looked as sad as you had seen him lately, and really, if you weren’t so upset about the photos you’d have spoken to him. But when you arrived earlier and got caught in his line of vision, you couldn’t help but turn away. 

 Joyce Byers had to be the saddest of them all. There was so much grief in her that she looked the most distant of this whole thing. A part of her apparently still held out hope he was alive. You could never understand that pain. And you wish to never go through it.

 Before you stood your cousin and his two other friends. All dressed up with their attention focused on the ground before them. You would have felt more sorry for them, but ever since you had woken up this morning. There was an odd way Dustin had been acting. Not that Dustin ever acted normal, but in this case, he wasn’t the same grieving friend you had comforted the other night.

 Still, after everything, you were ready to follow the group up back to the church to join the service in the rec room when you noticed two stragglers. Nancy and Jonathan had huddled close together before they both moved to duck down.

 There’s a struggle to fight against what your curiosity wants to see and what your mind is telling you to do. But really, the inner nosiness that you try to hide comes out and you’re already sneaking up to where they’re hiding by the time you really register it. 

 “If we do see it..then what?”

 “We kill it.”

Crossing your arms, you stepped forward, creating a loud enough step to jump scare the two of them. “Nancy Drew, what are you and creep doing over here all huddled together?” The nagging in your head to mind your own business for once was being heavily silenced by your curiosity. After what happened with Steve’s confrontation and the camera, you were sure that these two wouldn’t be around each other.

 “It’s not what it looks like.” Nancy started, climbing up from the floor. Jonathan looked red in the face, as he patted down the fallen leaves from the back of his pants. 

 “You mean you two weren’t hiding from everyone huddled to the ground talking about murdering something?”

 Nancy winced a bit, looking over at Jonathan to help. All the pale boy could give her was a head shake. “She wouldn’t believe us..” he whispered. Giving her a look that she seemed to understand. But instead of agreeing with him, she pulled out a photograph from her coat pocket. 

 “We could use the help. And..I trust her.”

 Leaning forward, you notice the photo in her hand to be a black and white picture taken from the night of the party. Only the thing in the image was contorted and unnatural. “What the hell am I looking at?”

 “Well, it all started when I went to Steve’s house yesterday...”

  The story ended up sounding more crazy than you had imagined. The very idea of a monster lurking around just didn’t seem possible. Not only was that insane, but the theory of the body you witnessed being buried possibly not even being the real Will Byers. It was all just too much.

 “You know, as much as I’m sticking around. I feel this is insane.” you coughed, crossing your arms as you stood in front of the open car door. Nancy blinked over at you, brows furrowed as she looked at you hopefully. 

 “It’s the best evidence we have..I just want to make sure that I’ve checked out everything. Barb would want that.”

 Eventually Jonathan found what he was looking for, causing Nancy’s eyes to widen as she looked at the object in hand. “Are you serious?” she gasped. 

 Turning your head over, you noticed him stuff a gun into his coat pocket. Making you cover the front of your eyes. “We’re in deep shit now.” you muttered. Jonathan peeked out to look over at the two of you exasperated.

 “What? You guys want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it?”

 You stepped out of the way once he was finished grabbing what he needed, moving over to stand between them as you tried to keep down the anxiety that was building back up.

 “This is a terrible idea.”

 “Yeah, I think I’m with Wheeler on this.” you winced, trying not to stare at the pack of bullets he was trying to stuff in his coat. There were so many problems with what you were getting yourself into.

 “What? You guys can try to tell someone but they’re not gonna believe either of you. You know that.”

 Fixing up the scarf around your neck, you shook your head at his words. “We have photographic evidence. It’s not like some highschooler can just make this up. Isn’t Nancy considered a good kid? Won’t they believe her?”

 Jonathan scoffed a bit at that. “No one believes the kids in this town because they don’t want to. Regardless of who’s trying to talk.” Turning to face you, he reached out to show you the photo again. “This thing might have taken Will and Barb. If you want to back out of this, then we get it. But if you want to help stop this thing from taking someone like Dustin or..even yourself, then help us.”

 Turning to look between you and Nancy, his lips pressed together before he threw his hands up a bit. “There’s not much else we can do. Again, no one would believe us.”

 “Your Mom would.” Nancy pointed out.

 “She’s been through enough.”

 “She deserves to know.”

 “Yeah, and I’ll tell her..when this thing is dead.”

 For a second you felt almost awkward like your first time meeting Nancy. Something about the two of them talking had this unspoken chemistry. You weren’t sure either noticed, but it was enough to have you reeling back a bit. Jonathan for whatever reason, seemed to bring out this side of Nancy that you couldn’t quite place. 

 Perhaps it was their shared motivation for getting this thing down. Or something else you weren’t aware of, but it was easy to make you feel like a third wheel. 

 “If I stay.” you coughed out, snatching up the paper to stare at the beast again. “I’m not killing whatever this creepy thing is in my Gucci shoes. So, we’re gonna have to recon.” 

 Jonathan nodded, leading you both back towards the church parking lot. “She’s right. We’ll meet up in the woods around Steve’s house. From then on, we search until we find the thing.”

 “And then?” you sighed. Nancy breathed heavily through her nose, looking over at the two of you.

 “We kill it.”

  There were many moments in your life where you knew you had to dress a certain way. Even earlier that day you had on a better outfit for the funeral. But hunting down a vicious beast? Who even knew that would call for?

 Many of your outfits were meant to be looked at and admired. Not for you to be prepared to run and fight. Still, you managed to dig up some older clothes from your last visit. What used to be an oversized sweater now well against your frame. An old pair of your Aunt’s boots were well enough for the hunt and luckily you managed to grab a pretty good corduroy jacket for the trip over.

 You were fussing over how to manage your hair when the phone blared loudly. At first you were going to ignore it, most calls weren’t for you here anyway. That is until you remembered you recently did give your number out to a few of your new friends. 

 Rushing out of your room and into the living room, you grabbed hold of the phone. Pressing the cool plastic to your ear. “Henderson residence. What do you want?”

 “Just take those old records off the shelf! I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself! Today's music ain't got the same soul! I like that old time rock and roll!”

 “Is this Bob Seger?” you giggled into the receiver. “I swore only gave my number to a couple of friends.”

 The sound of Steve’s chuckling picked up through the phone and you found yourself grinning hard. “Well, you did give it to your friends and a very enthusiastic impersonator.”

 “Oh yeah, you’re great.” you drawled out, sitting down on the seat beside the phone. “Might have to book you for my Aunt’s birthday coming up.”

 “I think I could squeeze that into my schedule. What do you think about a tour?”

 “I think Steve Harrington being a pro basketball player and a good singer are a dangerous combination. You’ll kill all the ladies across the nation.”

 The sound of his laughter picked up on the phone again. “I’m only looking to get the attention of just one.” For a second, you almost felt giddy at his words until you realized he must have been referring to Nancy. The fact that you were about to go hunting a monster with her made this even more awkward. 

 “Well, you should probably be serenading her instead of me on the phone.”

 “I love to perform for everyone.”

 Shaking your head, you take a glance at the time, frowning at how late you already were. As much as you liked entertaining Steve. Nancy and Jonathan couldn’t wait for you forever. Not when the sun was going to be going down soon. “Was there a particular reason for the call or were you really just hoping for a record deal.”

 “I was actually hoping that the two of us could hang out tonight.”

 “Really? Just us two?”

 “Is that so strange?”

 Rolling your eyes, you sighed loudly into the phone. “It’s strange that you’d rather hang out with me than with your girlfriend. And what about your friends?” There’s a beat of silence on the other end, before he speaks again.

 “I did ask Nancy. She’s busy. And Tommy and Carol are on their date night. I’m supposed to meet up with them later.”

 Something in your stomach didn’t like that answer at all. It was fair to say that you clearly were his back up choice in all this. Not that you had a right to be the first choice. You were after all just one of his newest friends. But you couldn’t help but still feel an ache in your stomach at the idea of being the last thought.

 “As lovely as it is to know I’m your last resort, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”

 “Come on, I didn’t mean it like that!”

 “Oh?” you mused. “And would I have received a call had Nancy or anyone else been free?”

 “Duh, I wanted all of us to hang out. Do something normal for once.”

 Normal. The word you had been so keen on being since the start of this mess. Unfortunately, you were well past normal at this point. Had Steve called this morning, you might have been able to avoid this. But you also wouldn’t be able to be part of the team to hopefully take this monster down. God, this town was messing with your damn head.

 “Unfortunately, your highness, I’m all booked for the night.”

 “There’s no way you can’t cancel and come see All the Right moves with me?”

 It was more disappointing when you remember that it was a movie you had actually wanted to see. But something about leaving Nancy and Jonatha alone to fight off whatever was in that picture without any help didn’t sit right with you. Stupid morality kicked in at the worst times.

 “Sorry, you’ll have to endure it alone.”

 “Cold. But fine, I guess I’ll wait out for Tommy and Carol.”

 Glancing at the clock, you notice that Steve has taken up too much of your time to get ready. You wouldn’t be able to find a weapon to take with you now. “Alright.” you sighed, getting up from your seat. “I’m sure you’ll figure out something to do in the meantime.” 

 “Get ready for my singing career?”

 “Atta boy, sounds like an idea to me. I’ll talk to you later?”

 “Yeah sure, if you’re free.” he teased, having only a slightly hurt tone in his voice. You definitely were kicking yourself right now. “Bye, trouble.” 

 “Bye, Steve.” Hanging up, you stared down at the phone. Pleading with yourself to pick it back up and take Steve on the plans. You didn’t want to be involved with a crazy mess like monster hunting with two people you hardly knew. Steve wanted to hang out. Sure, it was because all his other options were busy. But-

 The phone in front of you rang again and you nearly jumped back from its sudden noise. Reaching down, you curiously pick up the receiver and press it against your ear. “Hello?” you called out.

 “Oh thank God it’s you!” 

 The worried voice of your cousin was enough to distract you from the disappointment of not having Steve be  the one who called to try and convince you again.“Dustin, what’s wrong? I didn’t see you come home after the funeral.”

 “Uh yeah, Mike convinced Lucas and I to go back home with him. We’ve been kinda talking about stuff.”

 Curiosity sprang back in your chest again. Despite his words now, you couldn’t help but remember how odd he had been acting that morning. Even when they all lined up to bid the Byers’ family sympathetic words, he had been trying to hurry back to the Church for the reception.

 “Uh huh. About what kind of stuff?” you asked carefully.

 “You know, boy things, …uh science things.”

 Dustin was proving to be a really bad conversationalist or a bad liar. And considering how he usually didn’t shut up, you went with the latter. “What the hell are you planning on doing today, Dustin?”

 There was suddenly a lot of murmuring on his end, hushed voices trying to argue with each other as well what could be slapping noises before he spoke up again. “We’re not planning anything. Really, we’re going to just go outside and mess around with our..compasses. Yeah! We’re gonna see why our compasses are broken.”

 Scrunching your face you can’t help but get confused by his words. “Why the hell would they be broken? They don’t run on batteries.”

 “That’s what I said!” Again slapping could be heard again before he cleared his throat. “We’re just gonna be in Mike’s backyard testing out theories. Wanted to tell you and Mom in case it gets late.”

 “Well I’m actually heading out myself so I guess I’ll leave a note for her..” The three of you were going to be around the wood area tonight and you couldn’t help but be thankful that at least Dustin would be safe at his friend’s house. “Dustin, do me a favor?”

 “What?”

 “Try and stay safe out there, ok?”

 Something in your voice seemed to throw Dustin off because instead of answering back, he softly said your name. Almost with worry. “Are you okay?”

 “Yeah, just promise me.”

 “Alright, weirdo. We’ll be safe. I’ll see you later, okay?”

 It wasn’t long till the call ended and you didn’t bother looking at the time as you quickly wrote out a note for your Aunt. There was no turning back on this, despite the feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you to do otherwise. 

  The part of the woods that Jonathan had told you guys to meet at, looked just as dead and ominous as the lawn of the church from earlier that morning. The borrowed boots pinched at the sides of your feet but you ignored the slight pain the moment you started to hear gunshots.

 It wasn’t till you reached the source of the noise that you were shocked to find Nancy sending off a perfect shot against a can that had been lined up. For once the girl had a sense of fierceness over her. The gun definitely made her look cooler than the timid girl you’ve spoken to a couple of times.

 “Shit, Nancy Drew. You’ve got aim!” you exclaimed, coming closer to the two. 

 Nancy blushed a bit, trying to take the compliment humbly before she picked the gun up again to aim at another can. With each new shot it would seem her confidence only grew. It was after she finished the round that Jonathan declared that you three should begin your search for the monster.

 Nancy began to led the way into the woods, giving you a clear stepping path to follow her on. The uneven floor of the wood and piled leaves were making it a bit hard for you to walk, but any trips or hard steps were met with only a stoic face. 

 You weren’t going to be the girly girl who hated the woods and whined the whole time out there. Even though that’s what you really wanted to do.

 “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Jonathan muttered beside you. Making you almost jump at his sudden presence. You would have thought he’d join Nancy at her side. But from the way he fiddled around with the strap of his bag, he looked like he needed to talk.

 “Well, you have me here now.”

 He hummed at that, probably expecting a little more fight from you. But since you know what he’s about to bring up, you couldn’t help but be taken back again. The whole taking pictures of the party still didn’t sit right with you. Even if all the ones you were in weren’t anything scandalous, it still felt awful to know what he had done. 

 Jonathan glanced over at you, giving you a sad smile as he tried to mull over his words. “I didn’t mean to go that far the other day..I wasn’t planning on doing any of that. It just happened..I’m sorry.”

 “You mean you didn’t realize after several photos of us how creepy it was to be doing that?”

 His lips pursed together in a thin line and his knuckles gripped harder onto the bat at hand. “I don’t take photos for any particular reason. The whole thing caught my eye and I didn’t think of what could happen.”

 “Were you ever going to be honest with me about it? That night you said you’d show me your photos. Were you really going to show me all of them?”

 “Yeah, I mean, mostly the weird Barb one but yes. I love taking pictures, it didn’t matter the subject, I just didn’t think this one through. I wanted to purely just capture a moment. It was all just saying something to me.”

 The memory of Steve breaking the camera came into mind and you couldn’t help but feel guilty for the action despite trying to stop it from happening. But it was all so embarrassing and invasive. You hated the idea of anyone making you feel something you did not give permission for them to do. The bitterness just seemed to grow in you about it.

 “Did you really have to do it then and there? It was seriously the wrong time and place. Especially since you were supposedly looking out for Will.”

 “And I was! I promise. Look, I know you of all people might not get it. But I see things differently when I take pictures of people. Things they normally wouldn’t see of themselves.”

 “Yeah, like Nancy had no idea what she looked like with her shirt off.”

 The two of you stopped in place at that. Having a standoff as you both stared hard at each other. For a second, you thought that he might fight about that, try and find a way to stick up for himself. Instead, he merely shook his head and looked down at the ground. 

 “I don’t have an excuse, I regret taking it.”

 “Did you make sure she knew that?”

 The two of you glance over to find Nancy had still continued on the path, unaware of your conversation at all. Nodding in her direction, you made the two of you follow her again. He’s gone quiet and you can’t help but want to go back to his previous comment. “What did you see when you took that photo of me and Steve?”

 Strangely, Jonathan turned a bit bolder as he gave you a small smirk. His focus was still on the girl ahead as he replied back to you. “I saw two people who I don’t think really see each other as friends.”

 “Yeah?” you scoffed, trying to control the rapid beating of your heart. “And just what exactly do we see each other as?” There wasn’t supposed to be any sort of clue of you liking Steve. It was only a crush and that’s all it was ever going to be, he liked Nancy and you were just getting over Bil-

 “Can’t speak for Harrington, but you? It’s clear as day. Speaking from someone in my position,” His eyes quickly scanned over to Nancy again before he looked over to you. Making you cringe at the truth of his next words.

 “It’s easy to say. You’re fucked.”

  At some point during the walk, you and Nancy managed to switch positions, leaving you leading the walk as the other two staggered behind. The shorter girl must have had her own reservations about what happened yesterday as well because before you knew it, the two began to fight. 

 Poking and taunting one another for things you weren’t entirely too sure about. For one thing, you did not think he was pretentious, creepy yes, but he wasn’t entirely mean to you the first day there. The second, was Jonathan did not hold back his tongue as he basically tore her a new one.

 As Jonathan brushed past you, grumbling to himself, you couldn’t help but look back at Nancy with sympathy. And even though you weren’t close and in any other world, you two wouldn’t be friends. You couldn’t help but walk over and give her a small smile. 

 “Boys suck.” you stated simply.

 “They seriously, ridiculously, suck.” she groaned, trudging alongside you in the direction to where Jonathan went. “I mean, to go as far as to say that I’m going to end up exactly like my parents? How could he think that? How could he just- UGH.” Her hand pinched the bridge of her nose and you're thankful her focus isn’t on your face as you remember the type of person her Father was.

 “He’s wrong for that, but..I don’t know. He’s kinda being a douche for making it seem like some people who do live that kinda life aren’t happy.”

 Her eyes flickered to you, watching you curiously. “What do you mean?”

 “Well, it’s like that feminism that’s so taboo to talk about.” When she didn’t seem to catch your meaning you went on. “On one hand, girls should be allowed awesome careers and lives that they choose. Change the ideology right?”

 “Right.”

 “So like, by that definition shouldn’t women also choose to have small careers and stay home if they want to? Doesn’t make it bad or anything, just different. The whole thing is that it’s their choice.” 

 Nancy seemed a little bit stunned, stopping in place as she became unsure of how to reply to that. A part of you became worried you might have said the wrong thing until she nodded her head finally. “You’re right, it’s not what’s gonna happen to me, but it’s fine if someone else does.”

 “Exactly, people, especially men, should not tell us hot girls what’s good or bad for us, right?”

 You gave her a small smirk, hoping now your words will help fix up her mood a bit. And when she gives you a small smile you take that as a win. Nancy going as far as to playfully nudge you as you two moved on again. 

 “So is that the kind of lifestyle you want to live?” she asked softly.

 “Me? I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it.”

 “Would you live that way with the right guy?”

 Your mind dangerously flickered to a certain boy that you knew you shouldn’t. Shaking your head, you quickly push that thought out. 

 “The only guy I’m willing to do all that for is the delicious Harrison Ford.”

 Nancy chuckled a bit, shaking her head before you noticed a small smile on her face. “I’m not so sure I’d stick that out for Harrison Ford, even if he did look good in that Indiana Jones movie.”

 “He doesn’t do it for you?”

 Her head shook no before she leaned over towards your ear. 

 “Now, that Tom Cruise? I might have to reconsider.”

The search continued on into the night, making you realize then how tired and sore you were from the day. The woods continued to be empty, filled only with the sounds of trees creaking, leaves rustling from the wind and the occasional echo of an animal from down the treeline.

 It all seemed to be a total bust until Nancy heard the sounds of a crying animal. Not just any regular animal, but a deer, bleeding out on the ground. The sight of the poor thing had you behind the two, squeezing your eyes shut as they approached the creature closely. 

 “It’s been hit by a car.” Nancy deduced. The fact that the three of you were far from the road side seemed to slip past your minds, because all you could focus on was the sound of the deer’s labored breathing.

 “We can’t just leave it.”

 The silence that follows has you nearly keening over with nausea. They’re going to have to put it out of its misery and you barely could stomach seeing the animal documentaries the schools showed the kids back in freshman year. 

 “I’ll do it.” Jonathan offered and you wanted to reach out and tell Nancy she should probably look away too but your eyes seemed to need to see the grizzly act as well. Making you watch in horror as he held up the gun to the animal.

 Before he could take the shot, the animal is quickly dragged away, making the three of you set off in a calm panic as you try to track down the direction of where it went. Whatever that was had to be the monster you guys were looking for.

 To your dismay, the three of you end up splitting up into different directions. Even with only just a flashlight as your only weapon, you grip onto the heavy item tightly as you scan around the area, eyes wide in hopes that it’ll help you catch anything that might be coming at you.

 A snarling sound could be heard in the distance, making you gulp as you try to go to the source of the noise. The further down you step the more you realize you’ve sort of made a circle. A small panic creeped up on you when you remembered you didn’t know your way around the woods. 

 “Guys?!” you called out, looking around. “Hello?! Guys, I think I’m lost!” 

 There’s a faint noise, something that sounds like your name. Calling out for the two again, you’re met with only a small whisper from the trees. “Hey!” said a deep voice suddenly, Jonathan, who had managed to come up quietly, looked over at you with wide eyes. 

 “I’ve been screaming for you, where’s Nancy?” he asked urgently. Almost as if he was as anxious as you were. 

 Before you could give out an answer the panicked screaming of Nancy suddenly made the two of you jump. Together you rushed towards the direction of the noise, yelling out the girl's name again and again. 

 “Where the hell did she go?”

A/N: I just want to apologize for how long this has taken me! I don’t know why it’s hard to do these build up chapters but since I didn’t have this prewritten, it’s been kind of hard to write these out. Also, I had to set up a lot of things these past two chapters so it’s like semi filler and semi setting up for the plot. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading! 

TAGGED REQUESTS:

@m-rae23​​​, @teeacooper (won’t let me tag), @ally-holmes​​​​, @namesaretomainstream​​​​ , @lilygreennn​​​​,

[fanficimagery]

Universe Jumping

Imagine being on a mission with Peter when it goes awry. Your powers suddenly manifest all on their own when you find yourself in a life or death situation, whisking you away out of danger and dropping you into another universe.

Words: 6.4K Author's Note: There's this TikTok video by thorshammerx that was just begging to be written. All credit goes to the video creator who inspired this and gave me permission to write out their idea.

You had several regrets in your life, especially that of following Ultron, but had you not made that terrible decision then you wouldn't have met the Avengers. Or Peter. You grew very fond of Peter during training and there wasn't a day your sister let you live it down. Then again, she had feelings for a certain android and you had no problems reminding her of said feelings when she teased you for yours.

You and Wanda had trained with the Avengers for quite a while before they felt you both were ready for your first mission, though they tended to separate the two of you since your powers were very similar. She worked really well with Steve, Clint and Sam, and you worked really well with Tony, Natasha and Peter. Everything was going well for the two of you that it was only a matter of time before something happened- that something being a bomb.

Steve and Bucky had uncovered a human trafficking ring- a ring so big that they called in all available heroes. You had been designated to the parking garage, keeping guard of the women and young girls being loaded into SHIELD vans and driven to safety. So far you'd seen off seven different vans and incapacitated three gunmen.

The comm in your ear crackles to life and Bucky is warning everyone of the building going into self destruction mode. Several voices start talking over one another, but the one that you catch is your sister frantically telling you to get out.

"M'fine, Wands. Just have one more van to see off and then I'm out."

You see the last van out, glancing around for any stragglers when gunfire erupts. Immediately you throw your arms out, a purple energy shield forming in front of you that the bullets bounce off. Then concentrating on holding the shield with one hand, you use your other hand to flick purple energy at the gunmen. It wraps around them, squeezing their arms to their sides, and then squeezing even tighter until there are audible cracks. Oops.

You don't have enough time to comprehend what you've just done because an explosion sounds above you and the ceiling starts to cave in. Your hands go up as a purple dome shield envelops you and your heart pounds as pieces of the building start to surround you.

"YN? YN!?"

You grit your teeth, sweat immediately beading along your hairline as it takes nearly everything in you to hold the building from falling atop of you. You grunt, exhaustion quickly creeping in. Another explosion sounds and you bite back a sob, every bone in your body starting to ache. "I'm in- I'm still down here!"

Your vision fills with tears as your sister screams that she's on her way down there while others shout at her to remain where she is- that the structure of the collapsing building was too vulnerable to have her powers pulling it apart. There's a loud groaning noise before one of the concrete barriers starts to fall towards you, but just as you're about to close your eyes a familiar red and blue suit is there to stop it. Peter.

"I got you. I got you, YN."

Through his Spiderman mask, Peter is staring at you as he barely manages to hold up the concrete pillar.

"G-Go." You gasp. "I can't- I can't hold it anymore."

"No. Not without you." Your expression crumbles as you shake your head. "YN," he says. "It's okay. We're going to- we can still get out of-"

Another explosion rocks the building, this one being somewhere on the level you're on. You and Peter both get knocked off your feet, landing just a couple feet apart on your stomachs as debris pins everything from your feet up to the middle of your backs. Your head swims before you get your wits back about you and you lift your head to look around.

Dust is floating around you as you catch Peter's gaze, panic filling you at seeing his mask half torn as blood and dirt coat his skin. "P-Pete.."

"It's okay. It's okay," he tells you. "Just breathe and we'll get ourselves out of this."

You hold Peter's gaze as you attempt to calm your breathing. There's either blood or sweat dripping down the side of your face, but you don't pay it much attention, not when Peter attempts to move first and even his enhanced strength is no match for a collapsed building. He manages to lift upward just a little, shouting as his arms tremble and he falls flat on his stomach once again.

Steadying your breathing, you close your eyes and concentrate on your power enveloping your body to push all debris away from you. But seconds later there's a sharp pain at the base of your skull and you cry out.

"YN?"

You attempt to move a leg, but in doing so it shifts the debris. Something collapses and suddenly there's even more pressure atop your body- something sharp digging into your hip.

You scream and then scream louder when it doesn't let up, and Peter panics. "Help! We're down here! Can anyone hear me? We need-"

The pressure does not let up and you can feel it penetrating your flesh now. Your screaming and sobbing gets louder, blood rushing in your ears drowning out Peter's distress. You try with all your might to summon up some form of energy, pressure building and building and building until something just seems to pop.

"YN. YN, stop. What are you-"

"I don't- I can't stop it! I don't know-" Another pulse of energy seems to radiate off of you and Peter shakily reaches towards you with one hand.

Fingers caressing your cheek, he pleads with you. "Hey. Hey, look at me. We're going to be okay."

But you can't pay attention to him because you suddenly start glowing from the inside out. The glow gets brighter and brighter, and everything starts to vibrate. You're so confused and in pain, and Peter's shouting finally pierces the fog in your mind.

When you glance at him all you see is his terrified expression. "Stay.."

"I don't know how." You reach for him, words cutting off as you see your hand and see what Peter's seeing. Your hand doesn't look like flesh and bone, instead it looks like particles of golden energy forming the outline of your hand. Whatever it is seems to be travelling up your arm until it envelops your whole body. "Peter?" You finally glance at him, his eyes filled with tears.

"W-We'll find you. Wanda and I, we'll-"

Your vision whites out as Peter shouts and it feels as if you cease to exist.

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

Elijah is lounging around a fire pit in the middle of the abattoir, nursing a drink and just thinking about what his family's next move is now that there is no one after them. He's just minding his own business when what he thinks are embers from the fire on the ground near the fire pit rolling by. Only the embers start growing and glowing brighter, slowly taking shape of what appears to be a body.

"Niklaus!" Elijah suddenly shouts, setting his drink aside. "You need to see this."

Klaus is by his brother's side in an instant, staring down at the glowing outline of what's obviously a body now. "What is this?"

"I.. I don't know. Do you think we need Freya?"

The glowing embers seem to vanish, leaving behind a flesh and bone female.

"That's a lot of blood," Klaus murmurs. "We'll definitely need Freya."

Elijah steps closer in order to crouch down, sweeping sweat and blood soaked hair from the girl's face. "Miss? Can you hear me?" There's not a peep from her. "Her heartbeat seems sluggish."

"That's nothing a little blood can't fix, brother." Klaus smirks as Elijah frowns at him. "Heal her wounds and get her in bed. I'll go grab Freya to clean the girl up and to find out what the bloody hell we're dealing with now."

When you come to, it's not slow and toe curling as if waking from a long nap. It's quick and frightening and you sit up with a gasp. Confusion is the first thing you feel since you're in one of the softest beds you've ever been in and you're not in the infirmary at the compound.

Your fear spikes as the bedroom door opens and four individuals file in, one right after the other. Two males, two females, all dressed in civilian clothing.

"W-what.. who are you?"

"Funny you should ask that," the male with sandy blonde hair asks. "We were about to ask that of you seeing as you just appeared out of thin air in the middle of our home."

Your brow furrows as you try to remember your last conscious thoughts. "I.. I'm sorry," you tell them. "My name is YN and I.. I don't think I had control over that." Your frown deepens. "Um, where exactly am I?"

"You're in New Orleans," one of the blonde female muses. The one with the shorter hair. "I'm Freya and these are my siblings Rebekah, Niklaus and Elijah." She introduces each of them and you nod politely even though your heart is racing. "Where are you from, YN?"

"Currently from New York," you say. "But we were- we were on a mission." Your last moments start to come to you. "We busted up a human trafficking ring and the building- the building came down on us and Peter.. Peter!" Your eyes widen. "Is Peter here too?!"

"I'm sorry," Freya says. "You were alone when you showed up."

"Who's we?" Niklaus then asks.

You glance at him and gulp. "The Avengers."

He snorts. "Avengers?"

"Y-Yeah. You know.. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes. Or Iron Man, Captain America and the Winter Soldier." None of the siblings show an inkling that they know who you're talking about and your heart sinks. "Avengers protect Earth from what the military isn't capable of protecting people from like aliens and gods."

"Gods?" Freya frowns.

"Loki tried to take over New York several years back. Surely you'd remember that."

Rebekah snorts as she glances at her siblings. "Great. We've got a crackhead in our midst."

"What? No!" You say. "I'm not.. look," you sigh. "I'm telling you guys the truth. My name is YN and I'm an Avenger. A building came down on top of me and my friend, and I couldn't- I couldn't hold it anymore. My powers started acting weird and the next thing I know I woke up here."

"Powers?" Elijah finally speaks up here. "You are a witch?"

"Witch? No. I'm- well I'm not exactly sure what I am," you tell him. "Me, my brother and sister were normal until we turned ourselves over to HYDRA scientists for experimentation and the next thing we know we have powers." You raise your hand, palm down. Concentrating, your hand starts to glow and a small orb of purple energy starts to roll between your fingers as you dip each finger one right after the other. "That.. that actually came a little too easily. How long was I asleep for? I had drained myself by holding up the building so I shouldn't be able to produce energy quite so easily."

When you glance up, each sibling has taken a step back and is staring at you and trying to determine whether or not you're a threat.

"You've been asleep for about thirteen hours," Freya says. As she takes a step back towards you and holds her hands out towards you, she asks, "May I?"

"Freya.." Elijah warns, but she pays him no mind.

You see her staring at your glowing hand in wonder and shrug. "Sure. The energy won't hurt unless I will it to."

Freya takes your hand, turning it this way and that way as she runs her fingers along the back of your hand and your palm. "What all are you capable of?"

"I think the shorter list would be what I'm not capable of." She glances at you in surprise. You smile sheepishly. "I honestly don't know what I'm really capable of. We were still learning about our powers."

"Is your sister like you? Your brother?"

"Yes, only Wanda's energy is red. Pietro is- he was fast. Like inhumane fast."

"Was?" Rebekah asks.

"Yes. A sentient robot used us to try and split up the Avengers- this was before we defected to the good side of the fight- and Pietro was killed saving another Avenger and a young boy."

"I'm sorry," Freya tells you. You shrug and gently pull your hand back into your lap.

"Yes, well that was quite the story," Niklaus muses, "but forgive me if I don't believe you. Many people have come to try and take our family out, so.."

"Well I can show you," you say. You raise your hand again, it glowing as you mockingly wiggle your fingers in a wave. "It's quite simple."

Right." He huffs. "As if I'd let you work your magic on my mind. No. Freya gets to take a peek, but she does so by working her own magic."

You look at Freya, but she gives nothing away in her expression. Shrugging, you say, "Fine. What do I need to do?"

"Come with me."

You nod and slowly get out of bed, eyebrow raising at the set of pajamas you're in. When you stretch, you realize the only aches you have are those from lying in bed for so long. You turn this way and that way, and then reach back to where you remember something stabbing you while the building had fallen on you.

"Um.. I'm pretty sure I had a wound here?" You say while rubbing the skin right above your back hip. "How did it close so fast?"

"We gave you a bit of our blood to heal your injuries." Niklaus smirks.

"Your blood? Ew."

Rebekah snorts. "That's all you have to say? Ew?"

"Well yeah. Why?"

"Aren't you curious as to what we are that our blood was able to heal you?"

"Now that you mention it.."

"Vampires. We're vampires."

You blink at Rebekah, heart momentarily picking up speed before you shrug. "Huh. So vampires exist." Then without another word, you cross your arms over your chest and exit the room.

It's not hard to find Freya, she marking the stone floor with some sort of symbols in chalk inside a large circle. Off to the side there's a small table with a bowl, a mortar and pestle, and various jars. Her family joins you and you all watch as she throws all sorts of ingredients into a bowl. After a few minutes, she walks towards the circle and gestures for you to join her.

"So you and I are going to sit cross legged, facing each other. I'm going to light the bowl in between us and the smoke is going to put you in a bit of a trance so I can enter your memories more easily."

"Will I feel you in my head?"

"Not at all."

"Then fine. Let's get this over with."

Everyone watches as you take a seat on the floor and Freya sits across from you. You do your best to relax, resting your forearms on your knees and trying to regulate your breathing. Freya smiles at you in a reassuring manner as she lights the ingredients in the bowl on fire, and then blows out the fire so it's smoldering. She then reaches for both your hands and you let her take them. When she closes her eyes and starts to chant, you close your eyes and give yourself over to the apparent witch.

You feel absolutely nothing to give away what Freya is doing, so you're not sure how long it's going to take.

It feels like an hour's gone by when you hear Freya gasp and your eyes fly open. She's staring at her siblings, nodding in awe. Then looking at you, her expression falls as it turns fond and sad. "I'm terribly sorry for all that you've been through, but I'm afraid I don't have any good news for you."

You sigh. "Of course it's bad news."

She gulps. "The reason we have no idea who the Avengers are is because there are no Avengers here. They don't exist, at least not to us. If they did, we'd have heard of them by now."

"What? But how- how is that-" You frown as you try to think about everything you've ever come to know since you've gained your powers. Only one thing comes to mind, but it's impossible. How did you, of all people, make something like this happen?

"What do you know?" Elijah wonders. "You know something."

"The multiverse." You mumble and then sigh. "My powers started acting wonky when my life was threatened and they what? Deposited me in another dimension where I wouldn't die?"

"Pardon me, but what is the multiverse?"

"It's a goddamn headache is what it is." Rubbing at your temples, you say, "Grab a snack and sit tight. I'm about to blow your guys' minds."

The Mikaelson siblings didn't quite know what to make of you or where you've come from, but all it took was Freya vouching for you for them to let you walk around without keeping eyes on you constantly. They introduced you to Marcel and threw a party where they introduced you as an important guest of theirs, and it didn't take a genius to understand that every supernatural being in the French Quarter answered to the Mikaelsons.

Little by little, the family eased up around you as Freya scoured grimoire after grimoire to find a way home for you. During breaks, the Mikaelsons were interested to hear about your life in Sokovia and what led you and your siblings straight into HYDRA's hands. They listened raptly as you and your siblings realized your mistakes just in time to help the Avengers save the world from annihilation, and how you and your sister learned to live without Pietro.

Out of the siblings, however, it was only Rebekah and Freya who were hooked when they got you started talking about Peter and all that he meant to you. Well at least what he was starting to mean to you.

When you aren't with Freya or looking through grimoires, you're wandering the French Quarter and learning about its history- both human and supernatural- from the Mikaelson brothers. So it's not out of the ordinary to be spotted with Klaus as you shop around for knick-knacks.

"You buy an awful lot of rings, did you know?" Klaus muses.

You smile as he forks over the money for your jewelry. "Well if I ever make it back home, I need souvenirs to remember you by. And so I have extra rings to spare once Wanda gets her sticky fingers into my jewelry box." Taking the offered cloth pouch from the vendor, you slide the pouch into your jacket pocket. "Thank you." Turning towards Klaus then, you thank him as well. "And thank you. Now where to next?"

"Rousseau's. I need a drink and you need sustenance."

"Fair enough."

Klaus, though he portrays himself as the Big Bad, is ever a gentleman and offers you his arm as you walk down the sidewalk. You're happily chattering about what dish you're going to get this time when Klaus comes to an abrupt halt, his head tilting just so as if listening to something only he can hear.

"What? What is it?"

"Someone's requesting an audience. In the alley, of all places."

You glance towards the alley in question, exhaling softly when you see a hooded figure standing just at the mouth and staring in your direction before turning on his heel and disappearing deeper into the alley. "Well that's not ominous."

Klaus chuckles as he rests his hand over your hand that's gripping his opposite bicep. "Stay close, yeah?"

"Obviously."

Klaus leads you in the direction of the hooded figure, the two of you walking down alley after alley in pursuit of the figure. You grumble all the while, letting Klaus' chuckles keep your temper in check. When you finally come to an alley with a dead end, Klaus stops about halfway before rolling his eyes and turning the two of you around.

Right before your very eyes, three figures appear out of thin air. The one in the front holds a hand out and Klaus goes down to one knee with a yell as he holds onto his head. "Klaus? Klaus!" You hunch over to grab his face in your hands, eyes widening when you see he's in agonizing pain. Then glancing back up at the culprit, you yell at them. "Stop it! You're hurting him!"

Arms come down around you, briefly pinning your arms to your sides as they pull you a few steps away from Klaus. "That's the idea," a masculine voice muses right next to your ear.

The man holds you against the front of his body with one arm wrapped around your neck in a loose chokehold and the other raised in Klaus' direction. Klaus is momentarily immobilized as the other two figures rush forward and wrap his arms in chains before rushing back behind their leader. The chains are magically pulled taught outward and Klaus is strung up as he remains on his knees.

The figure in charge steps forward, letting their hood down as you stare at the woman who's doing her best to appear as if she's not terrified of her actions. "The time of the Mikaelson's reign is over," she says. "The witches of New Orleans are taking back what is rightfully theirs."

"New Orleans.. will never belong to the witches," Klaus growls. When he glances up, his eyes are golden and the black veins beneath his eyes pulse angrily. "Especially after this pathetic intimidation act of yours."

"That's what you think," she says. "We've waited and waited until we could find a weakness to exploit, and your family delivered it on a silver platter when you threw it a welcoming party."

Her gaze turns towards you and you finally can't help it. You laugh. The woman looks startled at your reaction and even Klaus stares up at you as if you're not right in the head. "You're doing all this because you don't like answering to the Mikaelson's? Don't they let you practice your magic whenever and wherever so long as you don't attack them? What more could you want?"

"New Orleans should belong to the witches! Our ancestral magic-"

"Blah, blah, blah," you deadpan. "I couldn't care less about your ancestral magic and your connection to the land."

"Mind your tongue, girlie." The arm around your throat tightens.

Klaus growls in warning and you sigh, having had enough of this bullshit. "First off, your first mistake was underestimating me and thinking I was a weakness for the Mikaelson's." Your hands raise, glowing purple, and the witch's eyes widen in shock. You slap your hands against your chest, the energy passing through you and knocking the man behind you back a few steps. Immediately whirling around, you move your hands until the man is enveloped in purple and you fling him up and over your head, throwing him at his friends' feet. "And your second mistake was attacking Klaus."

"W-Who are you?" The woman asks.

"I'm the bitch you've just royally pissed off." Without glancing at Klaus, you wave your hand at him and the chains fall from his arms. He's immediately on his feet, standing just behind your right shoulder as he stares the other witches down. "You think the Mikaelson's are a threat? You haven't seen anything yet," you tell them. "They leave you to practice your magic as you please, but me? I will make it so that no witch, with the exception of Freya, can practice magic in the Quarter. I will cut you off from your ancestors and erase your memories so that you forget you're a witch altogether."

The female gulps. "You're lying."

Your head tilts to the side as you smirk. "Am I?" You hold your hands aloft at your sides, pooling your energy before letting it explode outward. Ripple after ripple of energy wafts off you and the witches glance around in shock.

"What are you doing?!" One of them shouts. "Stop it!"

Behind them, at the mouth of the alley, human after human slows to a stop before turning as one. All their eyes have a purple sheen to them and one by one they raise a hand while pointing. "Witch! Witch! Burn the witch!"

The witches glance between the clearly mind controlled humans and you as you hold your right hand out at your side, palm facing upward and a swirling mass of purple energy hovering there over your palm. "You thought the Mikaelson's were protecting some meek little human you could manipulate them with? They weren't and now the Mikaelson's are under my protection. You come after them, you come after me. And I promise you I won't be so lenient next time." You snap your fingers and the chanting humans stop, shaking their heads clear and continue on as if nothing had happened. "Now get the hell out of my face before I go through with my plan to make New Orleans a magic-free zone."

The witches help their downed friend before fleeing and a moment passes before Klaus gently knocks into your shoulder as he saunters out in front of you to face you. "Well aren't you a scary little thing." You grin. "Can you really do all that you've said? Cut them off?"

You shrug. "If I put my mind to it, I'm pretty sure I can."

"Excellent. Now let's get home and tell Elijah and Rebekah what's taken place. They're going to be so angry they missed you in action."

After months of staying with the Mikaelson family, you've found a place for yourself by the family's side. Freya was grateful for the added magic you could provide when one of her spells needed something a little extra and Klaus was all too smug having you in his family's corner. The witches didn't make another move against you, but their glares didn't go unnoticed. However, they learned to keep to themselves after you dealt with a few rogue vampires to remind the witches of your true power.

One night you're having a drink with the Mikaelson's around a fire pit inside the abattoir, laughing at Klaus and Elijah as they tell stories about their youthful shenanigans before Klaus had decided daggering his siblings was a good idea when you feel a shift in the air. Your laughter immediately tapers off and you lean forward in your seat to glance around.

"YN?" Freya notices you first. "What's wrong?"

"Do you feel that?" You stand up, placing your glass down as the Mikaelson siblings all tense in preparation for whatever may come. "There's something- something in the air. It feels-"

Your words cease as red glowing embers suddenly appear, hovering about four feet off the ground. The embers start to swirl, growing larger by the second until there's a large portal in the middle of the room. All the Mikaelson's have gathered in front of you, guarding you from the imminent threat, and your jaw drops as you see your sister hover through the portal. However, your sister looks like she's been through quite a transformation and you can't stop staring at her glowing red eyes, nor the head piece adorning her forehead and keeping her hair out of her face.

You're so busy staring at her maroon and black suit that it takes you a minute to realize your sister is still hovering, her hand held aloft with a swirling mass of red energy in the palm of her hand ready to be thrown. You push between Elijah and Klaus, a swirling mass of purple energy forming in your own palm in case the worst comes to pass and you need to protect your new friends from your own sister. "Wanda? You good?"

She blinks, the red in her eyes diminishing as her feet finally touch the ground. Her hand slowly lowers. "YN?"

Your lips twitch. "The one and only." She lets loose a choked off sob and you rush forward to embrace her. "I can't believe you found me!" Movement just on the inside of the portal catches your attention and you glance over just in time to see a figure in red and blue swing through. When he lands in a crouch and then stands, the portal closes behind him and his face mask dissolves. "Peter!"

Wanda lets you go so you can rush over to your friend and he meets you halfway, squeezing you tight in relief. A moment passes before he pulls back, hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down. "Are you okay? It took us forever to find you! Doctor Strange had to tutor Wanda and now she's the Scarlet Witch, and she has all this power and now you're supposed to-"

"Peter. Peter!" Wanda calls out. "Slow down. YN is starting to look a little overwhelmed."

"I'm okay," you tell them. "It's just- I didn't think I'd see you guys again. Freya and I have been looking for a way home and we've found nothing."

"Freya?" Peter frowns. He glances behind you and your eyes widen. Introductions needed to be made.

Stepping out of Peter's hold, you put yourself between him and your sister. "Peter, Wanda, I want you to meet the Mikaelson family. This is Freya, Elijah, Klaus and Rebekah. Mikaelson's, meet my sister Wanda and Peter. Or as people from our world know them, the Scarlet Witch and Spider-Man."

"Oohhh," Rebekah drawls. "Peter, huh?"

"You shush!" All the Mikaelson's grin and you try to will away the blush you can feel crawling its way up your neck. Then turning towards you sister, you ask, "So how exactly did you find me?"

Wanda slowly grins. "Like this." Her hands hover on either side of your head and your vision is suddenly filled with red. You feel your head fall backwards as anything and everything Wanda's come to learn about her powers is suddenly filling up your mind and slotting itself into your brain.

Peter and the Mikaelson's all stumble back a few steps, eyes widening as the sisters are then enveloped in masses of red and purple energy.

"Um.. should this be happening?" Freya asks.

"I-I'm not sure," Peter says. "Just get ready to duck should we need to. Getting knocked back by one of their blasts of energy is not fun."

The swirling energies get brighter and brighter, and then moments later both sisters are lifted into the air. Everyone's shielding their eyes, squinting through the whirlwind enveloping everything in the room. Then their energies seem to calm and the sisters are lowered back to the ground, Peter's eyes widening as soon as the energies dissipate and YN is in a similar outfit and headpiece to Wanda, only YN's is in the colors of purple and black.

"Well don't you look rather fetching."

Klaus' words make you blink and then you glance down at yourself, sighing when you see the outfit. "Goddammit. Tony's going to give me a code name, isn't he?"

Peter grins. "Does this make you the Violet Witch?"

"Shut it, Spider-Boy!"

"Hey!"

Rebekah snorts. "Excuse me, but what is it with the spider moniker?"

Peter shifts under everyone's gaze. "Oh, um, I was bitten by a radioactive spider and it gave me superpowers. See?" He glances upward, thrusting his right arm up to shoot webbing on the ceiling. He then pulls himself up and attaches himself there, glancing over his shoulder and chuckling at everyone's expressions. He crawls along the ceiling and down the side of the wall before jogging back over to your side.

"Well that's just bloody bizarre," Rebekah huffs.

Wanda stares at the family. "You're taking this awfully well. Did my sister inform you of us?"

"She did," Elijah says, "but seeing it firsthand is entirely different than only hearing about it."

"Plus we have the added benefit of being different ourselves." Klaus flashes a fangy smirk and you roll your eyes at his too smug expression when Peter gasps.

"The Mikaelson's are Originals," you say. "The very first vampires," at this Rebekah and Elijah raise their hands, "and the very first hybrid of a vampire/werewolf."

Wanda's eyes slightly narrow at Freya. "And what of you?"

"Witch," Freya says. "Our mother could not have children, so she struck a deal with our aunt. If our aunt could cast a spell that would make our mother fertile, she'd give our aunt her firstborn."

"And you were that first born?"

She nods. "I was. I was taken at a very young age and placed under an immortality slumber spell."

Peter's eyes widen. "What's that?"

"Our aunt put me and her to sleep for a hundred years, only to be awake one year per century while she looked for another spell that would grant her immortality without taking her magic. It didn't work and I teamed up with my siblings to kill our aunt once and for all."

"But if your aunt's dead, won't you age now?" Peter wonders.

"I will." Freya smiles kindly. "And I'm okay with it."

You smile between Peter, Wanda and the Mikaelson's.. and then it hits you.

You're going home.

You can actually go home now, but in doing so you're going to be leaving behind those you've come to be fond of. You sniffle and immediately all eyes are on you.

"Are you- are you crying?" Rebekah muses, chuckling softly. "Why the bloody hell are you crying? You get to go home now!"

"I know." You quickly wipe away your tears before they have a chance to fall. "But I just realized that I won't see you guys again."

"Oh sweetheart." Klaus chuckles.

Just as he steps forward, you rush forward and wrap your arms around him. Then one by one, you hug the siblings. "I cannot thank you guys enough for taking me in when I landed here."

"Well it's not every day a girl appears out of thin air- a girl with so much magical potential that she scares the daylights out of the New Orleans coven of witches," Elijah says. "You have helped and protected our family numerous times since you've been here, and it's us who can never thank you enough."

Wanda lightly clears her throat. "Are you done being emotional now?"

You frown. "Wands, don't be mean."

"I'm not." She slowly grins. "I just thought I should mention that we're both capable of opening portals to other dimensions now. We just have to be careful not to enter another dimension where other versions of ourselves are running around."

You blink at her. "What?"

"Welcome to your full potential, sister. You've got a lot to catch up on."

Glancing at the Mikaelson's once more, you ask, "Weekly dinners sound good to you?"

"Weekly dinners sound perfect!" Rebekah says. "I want pictures of all these other superheroes we've been hearing so much about. And could you possibly put in a good word for me with that god of mischief of yours? He sounds fun."

"Loki?" Peter scoffs. "But Thor is the much more good looking brother."

Everyone goes quiet and you turn to look at your friend, grinning. "Got something you want to share with the class, Petey?"

"W-What? No."

Chuckling, you step close to his side so you can nudge him playfully. As you glance forward, you say, "Then I guess this is goodbye for now. The witches should behave, but if not then I'll make good on that promise about cutting them off from their ancestral magic."

"You're scary when you're protective," Klaus muses. "I'm going to miss that."

You grin. "You'll soon grow to detest Sunday's. Just watch."

"Mhm. The next time you visit, I want every detail about you two," Rebekah says, gesturing between you and Peter. "These past few months being separated better kick start a romance. I'm a sucker for a good love story."

You and Peter both blush, the blush darkening when the two of you make eye contact. Everyone laughs and your heart starts to beat faster when you feel Peter reach for your hand and interlock your fingers.

"Finally," Wanda muses. "Can we go home now?"

"Yes, Wands, let's go home."

Wanda turns around and produces a portal, and you wave at the Mikaelson's. "I'll see you soon."

You and Peter turn, hand-in-hand, and you follow Wanda through the portal and into a familiar room inside the Avenger Compound. When you glance over your shoulder, the portal is closed and your heart suddenly aches once more.

"So vampires, werewolves and witches," Peter says when he catches sight of your expression. "You have to tell me everything."

"I will, but first can we take a nap? I really missed it here."

"Of course. Your room or mine?"

When you hear a groan, you look over at your sister to find her nose wrinkled. "You're going to be that disgustingly cute couple, aren't you?" You nervously laugh and shrug, and your sister smiles sadly. "I just got you back, YN. Can you shelve the hormones for a moment and spend a little time with me?"

"Oh. O-Of course."

"Yeah. Sorry, Wanda, I didn't think," Peter quickly apologizes.

As he makes an excuse to head off and inform the others of successfully universe jumping with Wanda, your sister sidles up to your side and hooks her arm around yours. "So you and Peter, huh?"

"Don't pretend like you didn't know."

"Everyone's going to be so relieved that you won't be dancing around each other anymore."

"Me as well." You grin.

"So what do you want to do first? Nap or eat?"

"Ugh. Now that you mention it, I could go for some Shawarma."

"Okay. And while we're getting that, you can tell me more about that ridiculous handsome family that took you in."

"Oh my god, they are, aren't they!" Arm-in-arm, you and Wanda walk through the halls of the Compound, heading towards the garage. "I have so much to tell you. I don't even know where to start."

"The beginning is always good. Start from when the building fell on you."

You laugh. "Well.."

[sarahmadisonxoxo]

The trope of a relative stranger someone they’re indifferent toward. ( or someone they just dislike) staying to help clean up after a party.  It’s a common occurrence for Steve to be left with the after party clean up. Tommy and the guys making various excuses of why they couldn’t help. What a King he was... so beloved that his own friends didn’t care enough about him to even stick around long enough to help him make a dent in the mess.  Plastic cups scattered across the room like everyone just dropped them where they stood before leaving. He didn’t even want to begin to imagine what other surprises he’d find through the rest of the house. There had been a time he used to try to lock the guestrooms and keep the party downstairs. Tommy claimed the move was a buzzkill .  It wasn’t so much that Tommy could pressure Steve into making choices he didn’t want--- just Tommy had promised he’d help deal with the aftermath. If there was one thing the King fell for, it was when everyone around him tried to make it seem like they weren’t just using him. Empty promises. Anything that he could hold onto to make himself feel a little less lonely.  He was the King because people loved him...  Right?  Or was it just because he was gullible and had money to blow.  Steve shook the thought from his mind, quickly shaking his head like physically doing it would somehow get rid of the negative thoughts faster. “ you okay Harrington? “ The voice came from the doors that were still opened into his backyard. A soft blue glow of the pool lights sticking out against the dark. Casting a blue full body halo behind the person, Eddie Munson.  He hadn’t invited Munson? Had he?  Tommy must have. Or the guy crashed his party to make a little extra money.  The answer didn’t seem to matter anymore. What did matter was why he was still here. He knew Munson wouldn’t be the first straggler he had to kick out of his house. At least he’d appeared to be fully dressed, something he could only hope anyone else he might find would be.  “ I’m fantastic” Steve shrugged, chugging the rest of his own beer. Taking the other empty glass bottles off the coffee table as a starting point. He’d easily be up the entire night working on this. The concern wasn’t that his parents would be home anytime soon, but he’d hate himself if the maid was forced to clean up after this mess. His mother had unreasonable expectations in the first place, Steve couldn’t knowingly set her up for failure.  “ Are all those yours Big Boy... you know they have AA meetings at the courthouse on Monday’s” Eddie chuckled. Working to create conversation. The attempt wasn’t great, but it surprisingly beat the feeling of being alone.  The feeling of loneliness that would set in after parties were always some of the hardest to beat. Jonathan Byers could even be made to feel like good company right now. Sure Eddie was a weird guy, but he still didn’t feel ready to throw him out. At least not yet.  “ Uh..” Eddie hesitated, needing to break the silence that came when Steve didn’t reply. “ It’s nearly midnight. This is going to take you forever - I- I can lend a hand cleaning up?”  Eddie was offering to help him?  “ Sure.. Yeah Munson. Here lets get the rest of these bottles first. Yeah?”   “ Certainly my liege” Eddie announced, bringing his arm across his middle to dramatically bow. Taking the rest of the bottles off the table and floor following Steve to empty them in the bin.  “ What kind of party was this Harrington there's glitter everywhere”  “ What do you mean what kind of party? How long have you been here? “ Steve asked, looking down at the floor, an audible sigh at the sight of glitter littering the floor. He would never get all of it up.  “ Since about eight... Hagan singlehandedly keeps my lights on. I’d be an idiot  not to show up for a little while” Eddie shrugged. Filling a need of the party goers in a way that wasn’t traditionally thought about in these small town parties.  “ What is this..” Eddie questioned, cocking his head to the side before bending down to retrieve a picture off the floor.  “ Oh no! --- I mean no I usually keep those.. You know incase I need physical proof of who's here. I have a whole box full. If I go down so do they thing.. that’s all. “  The truth was Steve couldn’t bear throwing them away. He didn’t know who took them, but they gave an outside view--- a different perspective on his parties. Usually they were the slightly blurry pictures, but sometimes he’d get lucky to get good shots. On occasion he’d be in some of the pictures.  One day he figured they might help him look back on this part of his life. With some minor adjustments it could even become a photo book he could share with his future kids. Or they’d just stay in the box. Either way Steve couldn’t throw them away.  “ Right” Eddie nodded, a soft smile pulling across his lips. “ I’ll set them on the coffee table we cleaned off okay Harrington. Completely safe. “  It still took forever to return the house back to normal. Steve making sure the last few people he’d found upstairs were leaving. Girls holding their shoes in their hands, clothes disheveled from quickly throwing them on.  “ Wait Buckley? “ Eddie questioned as he came from the door leading into the kitchen. A moment of surprise shifting into a knowing smile that Steve was clueless toward.  The girl stopped abruptly at the door at the sound of her name. Steve thought she looked familiar, but he couldn’t put a name on her. Or how she knew Eddie. “ Hey Eddie...”  Robin turned, offering a short smile that again only confused Steve. It only caused Eddie to snicker.  Robin glared at Eddie, ending the laugher in seconds. Turning back to the door . “ Hey wait actually...” she paused, turning her head over her shoulder. “ has anyone seen a camera? “  Again Eddie burst into laughter. Flailing his arms, unable to control his amusement. “ Oh Robin No! ... No. I can’t”  “ Why do you have a camera in my house? “ Steve questioned, Robin’s eyes shooting toward him. “ Oh cool it Harrington you’re girlfriend pays me to take pictures for the yearbook.. Usually Jonathan takes pictures, but since you two fought last year he doesn’t want to come over here. “  “ Right.. “ Steve nodded slowly. “ Nancy.. that sounds like something she’d do”  A moment of silence passed.  “ Well I better be heading home.” Robin announced.  “ Hey Buckley wait up I’ll give you a ride... “ Eddie called out . “ You know Harrington this is usually the time people say thank you..”  “ Right.. Right.. Uh sorry. Thanks Munson. You guy’s have a good night. Uh should I pay you? I feel like I should pay you? “  “ Maybe next time.. Ill have my people get in touch with your people “ Eddie smiled.  “ Okay... --- Uh thanks again. Goodnight. “  “ Goodnight Stevie. “  Inspired loosely by New Years Day- Taylor Swift... or maybe not so loosely. :) 

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

Do You Get Deja Vu? | Remus Lupin

▹ Pairing: Past Remus Lupin x Black!Reader

▹ Genre: This is basically only angst.

▹ Words: ~8k

▹ Summary: You and Remus could’ve had such a lovely life, what a shame you’re fucked in the head now. (MCU/Harry Potter Crossover. Reader was a Winter Soldier)

▹ Notes: So here it is, my very convoluted and self indulgent crossover oneshot. This was so so so fun to write, and I tried something a little new for me by switching timelines. I just hope it's easy to follow. Let me know what you think!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You held the photo in your hands, a blank expression on your face. You’d been at this for the past hour, desperate for a flicker of recognition to flood your mind. But not even a sense of deja vu hit you, no matter how long you stared at it. The photo moved, something normal photos didn’t do. And it was older, definitely not from this time. There were five people, six if you counted yourself. Everyone was smiling brightly, in the midst of laughing when it was snapped. The magical nature of it allowed for you to see the sparkle in your eyes. A sparkle you seemed to be missing nowadays.

You knew them, the photo clear evidence of that. But you just didn’t know how. Bucky swore it would eventually come back to you, it would just take time. But that was over a year ago, and nothing has changed. Steve told you to not give up, with that motion-picture smile of his. And at the time you held onto hope that you could remember who you were before.

But now that faith just felt hollow. Stark had run the photos through every database he had access to, and every search came back empty. There were no leads of who they were, nothing to indicate where they could be. All you had was this old, worn photo. It had been in your file, yet most of your file had been too damaged to recover.

How convenient for you.

You stared at one of the boys, his dark hair and gray eyes an exact replica of your own. He stood on one side of you, arms slung across your shoulders. He might’ve been your brother, and that only made you more desperate to unlock your hidden memories. Because while the Avengers had been so kind and welcoming, you longed for the family you seemed to have before getting turned into a monster.

Then there was another brunette boy, his hair a much sandier brown. His eyes were a deep brown, twinkling with hints of amber. Scars both faint and fresh marred his face, yet the bright grin on his lips made them fade into the background. He stood closer to you then anyone else, his arm wrapped around your waist. Just the sight of him made your heart flutter and a faint blush painted your cheeks.

Then another man stood beside the man you thought to be your brother. His hair was dark as well and falling into messy curls. His eyes were brown as well, burning with mischief. His arm held a red-headed girl with emerald green eyes close to him, and you could just from the photo his laugh would be boisterous. He just seemed the type.

The only other girl sans you in the photo was the red-head. Her eyes were bright, somehow leaving you calm and light. Her smile was soft and sweet, almost maternal in nature. The exact opposite of the mirth dancing in your face, yet they complemented each other. Yin and Yang, keeping the calamitous group from truly reeking havoc.

The last boy in the photo was far meeker than the other. His blonde hair was a stark contrast in the sea of brunette men. He almost appeared mousy, nervously shying away from any attention. He looked like he was just happy to be involved, with blue eyes that seemed permanently teary.

You were all wearing matching uniforms, with red and gold ties that weren’t as tight as they should’ve been. You were standing on a green field, stragglers passing in the background. It must’ve been taken at a school, you just didn’t know which one.

You continued staring at the photo, as if that would somehow magically unlock a hidden message. But if there was something to be uncovered, you would’ve by now. And maybe you just had to accept that this was your life now. And whatever was in the past, whatever future Hydra ripped from you would never come back. But a part of you knew that even if your memories did return, nothing could be the same. The date on the back of the picture read 1978. It was 2022. They’d all be well into their sixties, with families to tend to and jobs to slave away at. While you were frozen at twenty-two.

Whatever was yours was gone, and maybe it’s a blessing you couldn’t remember what you’d lost.

“Hey Gandalf, why don’t you come out of your crying sesh and suit up, we’ve got a mission,” Tony Stark's voice broke the silence in the room. But you weren’t phased, he did this all the time. He took ample advantage of the intercoms placed throughout the compound.

With a soft sigh, you carefully set the photo down, preparing yourself for another mission, hopeful you would come out of it with minimal death. You’ve caused enough death for two lifetimes.

Before leaving, your eyes lingered on the photo one last time, a wistful sigh lingering in the air after you’d left.

OoO

You were nervous, a feeling you weren’t completely accustomed to. At least not while in the company of your friends, and certainly not when the cause of your nerves was your friend.

Remus stood across from you on the Astronomy Tower, a butterfly-inducing smile on his face. The silver glow from the stars and the moon made him shimmer in the darkness. His eyes sparkled, hair lazily blowing in the wind.

And you couldn’t remember when Remus had become this beautiful. There was a shift, at some point between dinner last night and Potions this morning. It was like a blindfold had been taken off your eyes and now you were truly seeing him for the first time. And it didn’t take too long to realize just how in love you were with him.

His smile, his laugh, the way he told cheesy jokes, and jokingly reprimanded you. How an absent minded smile was permanently etched on his face when in the company of his friends. The bar of chocolate he’d always kept in his pocket. “Just in case,” he’s always told you. How quick he countered any of James and Sirius’ teasing, his wit as sharp as a whip. His nose was usually buried in a book, not that he needed to arduously study. School came natural to him. But maybe the calm of the library and the musk of old books was just a comfort.

And it was only in that moment that you realized he’d never had a crush. If he did he never confided in you about it. Though, maybe with James always rambling on and on about Lily, it just got lost in the noise.

As you stared at the profile of his face, counting every freckle on his face, you hoped that there was a reason why he never told you he was in love with someone else. Maybe James, Sirius, and Peter knew something you didn’t. Because maybe, just maybe, he was in love with you too.

“I just realized something,” your voice was quiet, but cut through the silence anyway. Remus turned his gaze to you, a silent encouragement to continue your train of thought. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me about your crushes.”

He raised a brow, a questioning look crossing his face. Again, he was silent, patiently waiting for you to clarify your thoughts.

“I mean, James always goes on and on about Lily, and Sirius falls in love with a new girl every month. Peter has maintained his puppy love for Mary. But I’ve never heard about your infatuations,” you said.

He let out a breath, nodding in understanding. The easy grin was still on his face, not a care in the world.

“You’ve never asked.” His words were teasing and light. It made your heart stutter in your chest. Though that now seemed to be a common occurrence around Remus.

“Fair point. So do you?”

“Do I what?” He was messing with you, it was written on his face. He knew exactly what you were asking, and probably knew why. He just wanted you to spell it out for him.

“Do you like anyone?”

The question hung in the air. Clenching and unclenching your fists. You were terrified. Because if he was in love with someone else, it would be devastating. It would be catastrophic to your friendship. You never liked change, but you certainly didn’t want anything with Remus to change. And it would if your feelings were one-sided.

“I do.” It was vague, and you could tell by the glint in his eyes it was intentional.

“Well who is she? Do I know her,” you asked, desperate for him to put you out of your misery. You might just throw him over the side of the tower if he didn’t answer your burning question.

“Oh you know her, very very well.” He took a step towards you, getting closer and closer until there was only a few inches separating him from you. Your breath got caught in your throat as you suddenly forgot how to breathe.

“Is it someone I share a room with?”

“Yup.”

“Mckinnon,” you asked. Remus simply shook his head. “Mary McDonald?”

He shook his head in disagreement again. Your nerves were on fire, a sinking feeling in your stomach. You supposed it was stupid to think he would see you as anything other than a best friend.

“Dorcas?”

He shook his head again. You swallowed the lump in your throat. There was only one other person--

“Lily? Is it Lily?”

“No.”

“Well there’s no one else Moony, it’s just Evan, Meadow, Mckinnon, Mcdonald and..” you trailed off. Remus raised his brows, the grin on his face getting wider as he watched the realization hit you.

“Me?” He nodded his head, eyes bright under the moonlight. “It’s me?”

You were in disbelief. Remus has feelings for you. Romantic feelings for you. The realization made your grin widen, eyes softening. You could’ve melted in your spot, if not for Remus' hands that wrapped around your body, holding you in place.

“I’ve been in love with you since fourth year. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

“A simple “Hey, I really like you Y/N would’ve worked,” you said, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Well in that case…” he trailed off, leaning his head towards you, lips a few centimeters away from yours. “I really like you Y/N.”

Your heart nearly jumped from your chest, as your body felt as light as a feather. He could’ve told you anything and you would’ve believed it at that moment.

“I really like you too.”

Then his lips were on yours, as you melted against him, hopeful that the night would never end.

OoO

Another Hydra base. That was where you’d found yourself. After the fall of SHIELD, most of Hydra had fallen, yet there were still a few cells that lingered. The Avengers were making fast work of them, this being the third successful raid in the past month.

With every mission, as you shuffled through file after file, you’d hoped to find anything linked back to your old life. But every time you came up empty handed. And you thought that today would be another mark on your tally of failures. But your name in bold print caught your eyes.

It was the top page into a manila folder, older than most. Your hands were shaky as you reached for it, breath caught in your throat. And as you paused, fingers seconds away from opening the file, you contemplated if you even wanted to read it. Would knowing what you’d lost truly be comforting? Or would it just send you down another spiral of pain. And maybe this time you wouldn’t dig yourself out of it.

But you had to know, the part of you desperate to know who’d you’d been quickly winning. Before your hesitation could dig its claws further into you, you opened the file.’

A photo of you while in cyro was paperclipped to the paper, you stats on the front page. All of it information you already knew. Gray eyes scanned the text, hopeful for something you didn’t already know.

And you finally got what you wished for.

On the second page, it detailed your capture. How Hydra had an eye on you since before you’d even graduated. Hogwarts, was the name of the school you’d gone to. A school for witches and wizards to hone their craft. They had spies throughout the school in the form of students, scoping out potential candidates. And it seemed you were their number one pick.

You had two brothers; Sirius and Regulus Black, although you were estranged from the latter. You had friends, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, and Marlene McKinnon. And a boyfriend as well, Remus Lupin. You graduated at almost the top of your class, showing promise in combat outside of magical nature.

There wasn’t much else, but supposed they wouldn’t put the finer details of your life before Hydra. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you’d found in the last year.

You slammed the file shut, holding it tight as you left to find the rest of the team. But even after meeting up with the team, you didn’t speak a word of the file tucked in your hands. There was too much chaos, too many things to focus on that no one noticed the manila folder tightly in your grasp.

“You good, Y/N?” Natasha asked, eyes narrowed as she watched your stiff demeanor. She instantly knew something was amiss with you. It was something you were never good at masking. Your eyes met her and you gave her a tentative smile you hoped would be reassuring.

“I’m good.”

OoO

Graduation had fast approached, far quicker than you’d anticipate. You suppose time really did fly when you were having fun. For the whole week you’d been filled with melancholy, reminiscing on every memory you’d hold onto for a lifetime.

You were currently in the Great Hall, eating dinner as the room was filled with chatter. The sounds bounced off the walls, echoing in the room and making everything sound jumbled and messy. But it was comforting, and you knew when your meals were more quiet and private, you’d miss the chaos.

“I just think you're not being very realistic!” Lily chided James, but despite the stern tone she used, she couldn’t hide the lovesick grin on her face.

“I’m being very realistic, Lily-Flower. Pads and I are gonna be aurors, we’ll be the wizard version of those cop movies.” His voice was nonchalant, managing to dismiss every one of Lily’s fears with the flock of his fingers and beaming eyes.

“We’re being very realistic. We’ll kick down doors, have cool one-liners--”

“Get bad haircuts,” you chimed in, inserting yourself back into the conversation.

“Get bad--” Sirius began to say, nodding his head in agreement, but he cut himself off once he realized what you’d said. His head whipped in your direction, an aghast expression on his face. Feigned of course, Sirius had always been one for the theatrics. “You take that back right now!”

“I’m not saying you have a bad haircut, just that they normally do,” you said, eyebrows raised as a sly smirk rested on your lips. Remus laughed, his arms tightening around your waist as he buried his head in your neck.

Sirius scrunched his face in distaste, tossing his bread in the general direction of you and Remus.

“You two are absolutely disgusting. I loathe the day you too love birds got together,” he said, dramatically turning away from you with his nose raised in the air. He looked every bit like the prim and stuck-up heir your mother tried to mold him to be.

“Just sounds like you're jealous,” you said in a sing-song voice. Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Please, you two are so lovesick that it makes me physically ill. In fact, I saw the two of you snogging in the halls and it made me have to make a visit to Madame Pomphrey,” he said.

You snorted and Remus laughed, a light smirk on his face.

“Maybe the next time you're there you can get something for your hair. I think it’s starting to thin,” Remus said. Sirius met his gaze, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“Don’t you dare look me in the eyes and say such a bold-faced lie, Moony,” he said. “I have the hairline of a god!”

“Sirius, stop being so vain,” Lily said, leaning forward to grab a piece of bread to toss at him.

“You can’t possibly be taking her side. She started it!” The bread hit him square on the face, falling on his plate with a thud.

“Shut it.” She then turned her attention to you, as you hid the laughter threatening to escape your mouth behind a tight-lipped smile. “I’ve heard enough about their post Hogwarts plans. What about you, Y/N?” she asked.

You took a sip of your water as you contemplated her question. You hadn’t really thought too much about what you’d do after school. Joining the war was obvious. You felt a sense of duty to fight back, to keep the world from falling into the darkness you and Sirius endured for the majority of your life. But beyond that, you didn’t know.

“I-- don’t know. Maybe something quiet, after the war. A small cottage in the woods with a lot of dogs and a cute little garden,” you said.

“And a little lemon tree,” Remus said, sending you a wink.

“And a lemon tree,” you said, nudging your shoulders against his.

“Prongs, I’m gonna be sick.”

“If you don’t--”

OoO

Silence was always something you dreaded. It left no distractions, forcing you to listen to your thoughts. It allowed them to roam free, filling her mind with regrets that would lead to sleepless nights.

And tonight was no different.

3:23 AM.

You’d been up since 7AM and had found no hope of going to sleep anytime soon. So you walked through the halls like a phantom, getting comfortable in the kitchen with a cup of hot chocolate and a small chocolate bar. Something was soothing about the bittersweet chocolate melting on your tongue. And if you had your memories, the feeling associated with the candy might make sense.

“Bad night?” It was Steve’s voice that filled the room as he entered the kitchen. He wore pajamas that were loose on his body. Sleep made his vision hazy and slightly out of focus. And for a moment you were afraid you woke him, but immediately disproved the theory. His bedroom was two levels above yours, even his super soldier hearing wasn’t that good.

“I’m just thinking,” you muttered. Hazy eyes focused on the papers spread in front of you. Since the mission earlier, you hadn’t been able to take your eyes off the papers, having scanned each page a million times now.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, taking a seat on the cold floor beside you.

“My file.”

His eyes met yours, his gaze confused and curious.

“When did you--”

“Today. I found it at the base.”

He shifted, his body turned towards you. Yet your eyes returned its focus to the papers.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His question wasn’t accusatory or angry. He was understanding and patient, just as Steve always had been.

“I don’t know.”

You were honest. You didn’t know why you’d kept your new knowledge a secret. The team would be overjoyed, a new lead that may help piece your old life together. But a part of you didn't want that to happen. You almost didn’t want to know what had happened. Because what if it was worse than you could’ve imagined?

“I had a brother - two actually. Though I was estranged from one of them.” Your voice was quiet and shaky, nearly undetectable by normal hearing. But Steve wasn’t a normal person.

“But Sirius and I, we were twins and apparently two peas in a pod.” You laughed, the sound hollow and breathless. “And a boyfriend too, I had one of those. And friends and…and…”

You let out a shuddered breath, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. Without hesitation, Steve’s arms wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Let it out.”

“I had a whole fucking life, and I knew that, but reading about it made it all so real. Hydra ruined my life, and I can’t even remember what exactly they ruined!” You were incoherent, the words lost in the sobs that tore through your body, eyes blurry with tears that just wouldn’t stop falling. “I fucking hate this!”

Steve didn’t say anything, just let you cry yourself to sleep. And only after he was sure you wouldn’t wake did he carefully move you back into your bed. Swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks were the only evidence of your breakdown, lips downturned into a permanent frown. He shut the door behind him on his way out, hopeful that when you woke, you’d feel a little bit lighter.

OoO

The day was beautiful. Everything about it almost seems like it came straight from a story book. The weather was divine, a soft spring breeze keeping the sun from being sweltering. Birds sang in the distance, an accompaniment to the quiet music that filled the small venue.

The wedding had been intimate, only Lily and James’ closest friends and family were invited. The ceremony had ended, and now the reception was about to start. The dress you wore was light and airy, the bottom of the dress swaying with every movement - small or large. The color was a soft lilac, nearly making your skin glow. Your dark unruly hair had been tied back into an updo, a million flowers adorning the style.

Everything about it had almost seemed unreal. The music, the dancing, everyone mingling and carefree as they ate and drank to their heart's content. It was almost as if there wasn’t a war looming in the outskirts of their vision.

James and Lily wore matching beaming smiles and rosy cheeks. He never left her side and she didn’t either. It was strange to think that just two years ago, Lily couldn't stand the sight of him, and now… They were the poster children for two kids in love.

Remus stood beside you, hand holding yours. His grip was firm but not too tight, just enough to let you know he was there. The two of you watched James and Lily whisper quietly to each other. And whatever was said elicited giggles from the other. You squeezed Remus’ hand three times, and he returned the gesture.

“Shall we dance,” he asked, using a fake accent to sound as posh as possible.

“We shall, good sir,” you responded, mimicking his accent and placing your hand into his outstretched palm. He guided you to the dance floor and you nearly felt like you were gliding across the surface the way your dress followed you.

His hands wrapped around your waist and yours went around his neck. The music was soft and delicate, the two of you gently swaying to the beat. Everything seemed perfect at that moment. The soft grin on his lips, the gleam in his eyes, and the way his hair perfectly fell into place. If he asked, you would’ve married him on the spot.

You never thought you could feel this way for anyone. And yet, here you were. It made sense why everyone lost their minds, committing heinous acts in the hope of love.

“This is nice.” The words were whispered, only for you and Remus to hear. As if you and Remus were in your own little world separated from everything else.

“It is.”

You took a deep breath, focusing on the soft breeze against your shoulders.

“What type of wedding do you want?” Remus asked, lifting your arm up and spinning you around. Once you completed the spin, his hands returned to your waist.

“Something simple and small,” you said absentmindedly.

“An outdoor wedding?” he asked and you nodded your head.

“Springtime of course, with lots of flowers,” you said.

“Maybe a meadow?” Remus spun you again, your dress gently billowing at your feet.

“It’s like you read my mind,” you said with a bright grin on your face/

“Or maybe I just know you too well?”

You shrugged, humming in agreement.

“Not like it’s a bad thing.”

Neither of you spoke as you continued to dance.

“What’s with the curiosity?”

Remus dipped you, a child-like grin on his face.

“Just want to make sure our wedding will be exactly what you want.” he said it so nonchalantly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Our wedding?”

“Yes, our wedding. That is, unless you don’t want to get married?”

He raised a single eyebrow at you. You found yourself unable to properly speak, heart racing against your chest.

“I do, I just didn’t know you did,” you said.

“Of course I want to marry you, love. I can’t imagine loving anyone else.”

You simply stared at him, scrambling for the right words to say. Meanwhile, Remus seemed completely calm and collected.

“Then maybe an early Spring wedding. You like the cold and I don’t, so March would be the best compromise,” you finally said.

“March it is.”

OoO

You couldn’t move.

Sat on your bed and blankly staring at one of the many bare walls in your room. That was what you’d been doing the past hour. You’d had a dream last night, which in itself wasn’t unusual. But it wasn’t hellish nightmares from your days as the Winter Soldier. One of the many murders you’d repeated replaying in your memory, haunting you every single moment.

This dream was sweet. It was good and nice and comforting and…

You remembered every detail vividly when you woke, because it wasn’t just a situation concocted by your subconscious. It was a memory. The first one from your previous life you’d managed to restore. Though the beginning was dark, it quickly became comforting.

You and Sirius had been home, you were around fifteen. Things were only getting worse at home, your mother using a forbidden torture curse on Sirius. That was the final straw, the only motivation the two of you needed to leave.

So you did, running out of that dreaded house and never turning back. You’d ended up at a friend’s, James Potter, whose family took you in with no hesitation. And for once, during that summer that went by too quickly, you had a family. One that was more than just Sirius. You had a mother who dotted on you, a father that cared about you. And a second brother that would fight the devil himself for you, just as you would’ve for him.

You remembered every single thing that happened that summer as if it were yesterday. You remembered the way it smelled in the morning, when Euphemia Potter was making breakfast for everyone. Or the broom wax after James spent hours practicing for the new Quidditch season. The old books in your room you obsessively read in hopes of having something to talk to Remus about. It was all there, lingering at the forefront of your thoughts.

You should’ve been overjoyed. You’d finally recovered something. But you couldn't shake the pit in your stomach. Every memory was tinged with melancholy, sadness tainting the sweet memories. But you just didn’t know why.

A sigh left your mouth. You would have to get up at some point, might as well get it over with. Bare feet touched the cold ground, quiet footsteps padding across the empty floor. You walked out the room and down the winding hall, taking the elevator down to the main level where all the other Avengers would be eating.

The elevator dinged, announcing your arrival, and sure enough, Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Tony were lingering in the kitchen. ‘

“Morning,” you said. Everyone in the room chorused a reply, but you said nothing else, making a beeline for the coffee. You took out a mug, poured in the coffee then added 2 sugars and one teaspoon of honey. Taking a spoon, you stirred it exactly three times clockwise and three times counterclockwise.

“Why do you always do your coffee like that? Some kind of weird wizard thing?” Bucky asked. You tapped the spoon against the side of the mug and set it down, brows furrowed.

You shrugged, taking a sip of the drink as you contemplated his question. You didn’t know why you make your coffee that way, most times you weren’t even conscious you were doing it.

Suddenly, images flooded your mind, the intrusion causing you to lose your balance and hit your back against the counter.

“Why do you even make your coffee that way?” you asked, nose scrunched as you watched James make his coffee.

“It tastes better this way?” he said, tone defensive as he changed the direction he was stirring.

“Because the direction you stir changes the taste?” Your tone was deadpan as you looked at him with tired eyes.

“Precisely,” he said, tapping the excess coffee off the spoon before handing it to you. “Try it.”

You snorted, smacking away his hand. He gasped, a look of offense crossing his face.

“The day I drink your coffee is the day you drop dead.”

He laughed; loud and boisterous.

“I’m never gonna die. I’m too stubborn for it,” he said with a knowing smirk on his face.

“Kid, you okay?”

Your vision was replaced with Steve’s face that stared at you with wide blue eyes. You blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the haziness in the corner of your vision.

“Ye-yeah I’m good,” you muttered, setting down your coffee and rubbing your temples. A headache was forming, throbbing mercilessly against your head.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, standing to the right of Steve.

“I think I just remembered a memory,” you muttered, eyes shutting for a moment of respite. The lights were too bright in this room, why were they so bright?

“Really?” Steve asked.

You nodded your head, eyes tightly shut. Steve placed an arm on your back, guiding you out of the kitchen and into the living room. The light was dimmer and the couches were more comfortable than leaning against the counter. “What was it?”

“A friend from school. I was making fun of how he made coffee,” you muttered as you sat on one of the couches. “Had a dream last night, regained some memories too.”

“Anything we can use to track down your family and friends?” Tony inserted himself in the conversation, the whole group following you into the living room.

“Uh yeah. There was James Potter, Remus Lupin, and my brother Sirius Black. We used to live at this place called 12 Grimmauld Place in London until we ran away to the Potter residence.”

“On it.” Then Tony left, leaving you with Steve, Bucky, and Natasha.

“This is good, I told you it would eventually come back,” Steve said with an assuring grin on his face. You return the gesture, albeit with a weaker one.

The thing was, you weren’t too sure you wanted to remember what happened. But you’d never say that out loud.

OoO

It was nearing midnight, the clear skies turning rainy as you stayed bundled in a pile of blankets in Remus’ flat. You were holding a mug of hot chocolate, a whipped cream mustache remaining on your top lip. He was sitting beside you, bundled under the same blankets. Neither of you were speaking, too tired and relaxed to maintain a coherent conversation. But you were more than content sitting beside him.

A large yawn left your mouth, making your eyes slightly watery.

“I should probably go,” you whispered, lethargic and not fully aware of your surroundings.

“Just stay,” Remus said, tightening his grip around you. You laughed, leaning forward to set your cup down.

“I would love to, but it’s Sunday and I have plants that need to be watered,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Remus stirred, muttering something you didn’t fully understand.

Amusement danced in your gray eyes, a lovesick smile on your face. There were a million butterflies in your stomach that still made you feel light as air. In fact, the feeling didn’t die down but seemed to get worse. Nearly four years later and you were still a bumbling fool around him.

“What was that, love?”

“Just bring them here next time you come around. That way you won’t have to leave,” he said. You tilted your head, heart hammering in your chest. The implication of his sentence left you breathless and excited. Though you repressed them in fear reading into the situation.

“Are you asking me to move in, Remus Lupin?” There was a slimmer in your eyes, a smile you couldn’t repress.

“I am. I want to take this to the next step. I don’t want you to just have a drawer, I want you to have the whole flat.”

His hands cupped around your face and you mimicked his action. His forehead pressed against your forehead. The tip of your nose brushed against his, lips only a centimeter apart. His lips were as close as possible without touching.

“So what do you say?” he asked. Girlish giggles left your mouth, ringing in the room, filling every corner.

“I guess I have to figure out where I’ll put all my plants,” you whispered.

“I’ll buy as many shelves as you need, love.”

Then his lips pressed against yours, sealing the deal with a kiss. It sent tingles up and down your body. Your head was light and fuzzy, not a coherent thought in your brain.

You began to pull away, but Remus pulled you right back. You laughed against his lips and his grip tightened around you.

“I have to go,” you muttered.

“No,” he whispered.

“I told you. My plants will suffer if I don’t.” You pulled away again, and Remus let you, a groan leaving his mouth. Reluctantly, he unraveled his arms from your body. You stood from the couch and Remus followed, walking you to the door and helping you put your coat on. He opened the door, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You walked out the door, holding your jacket closer to your body.

“Are you sure you wanna walk in this weather, love?”

You turned to face him, the wide grin etched on your face. You were too elated to ever assume this feeling would ever end. More than likely you would simply float away, disappearing out of the atmosphere.

“I don’t mind the rain,” you said. You reached a hand out and grasped his. You hoped it, combined with the self assured look in your eyes would placate his anxiety. “Plus, I don’t think there’s anything out there I can’t handle.”

Apprehensively, Remus nodded his head. But you could still see the worry and fear swimming in his eyes. Yet he learned once your mind was set, there wouldn’t be any changing it. You simply wave off his fears as misplaced and continue home in the dark.

“Be careful, love.” The rest of his sentence hung in the air, despite the words never leaving his mouth. The war was beginning to get worse, and soon nowhere would be completely safe.

“I will.”

And then you were gone, disappearing into the darkness, rain drenching your clothes.

OoO

“So, any new memories?” Steve asked. You glanced over at him, breathing heavily as sweat drenched your face. The punching bag in front of you was tearing at the seams from the force of each hit. You relaxed your stance, unclenching your fists.

“Not yet,” you said, shaking your head. Sans the random coffee memory and the dreams you’d had a few days ago, your past life was still a mystery. You still weren’t sure whether that relieved you or not.

“Don’t worry. It’s only a matter of time now,” Steve said with that signature grin that made America swoon over him. You couldn’t help but return the expression, a glimmer of hope rising from his unwavering optimism.

“I know, I just--” you began to say, but cut yourself off, firmly shaking your head and dropping your gaze to the floor. “Forget about it.”

“What is it kid?” Steve asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You can tell me. It might help to get some stuff off your chest.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, slowly nodding your head as you mulled over his words. He was right, of course. Keeping things buried inside could only last for so long.

“I’m just afraid. Afraid that I won’t like whatever I learn about who I was before Hydra. I highly doubt everything was fine and dandy before I got taken.”

Steve slowly nodded his head, watching you with attentive eyes. Out of all of the Avengers, he was probably the best listener. Even if he did often follow it up with unwanted advice. Just another way he was a grandpa trapped in a thirty year old’s body.

“Why do you say that?”

“I remember a war and it was…it was bad Cap. We were dealing with Wizard Hitler and I just--” you trailed off, not able to find the words to say.

“Trust me I get it. But let’s weigh the options. Let’s say you get all your memories back, and it is tragic. Then you move on, you properly grieve and pick up the pieces of your life. Or, you just stay blissfully ignorant to whatever happened. But would you really be living?” Steve said.

You bit the inside of your cheek, tapping your fingers against your legs.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing since coming out of cyro?” you asked with a sardonic grin on your face. “Seems to have worked out pretty well.”

“But have you actually been living, or just surviving?”

OoO

The rain soaked completely through your clothes, causing shivers to rush up and down your body. It was devastatingly brutal and all you wore was a thin jacket. But you didn’t care, hardly took notice of the wind biting against your skin. All you could do was sit on the sidewalk, eyes focused on the road.

If anyone would pass by, they’d think you were a statue. You hardly blinked, even as water fell onto the tips of your lashes. Your tears were hidden by the rain that ran down your face. Even your body was unnaturally still despite the winter winds. The only thing that betrayed the illusion was the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

You held a wand in your hands, slowly and carefully tracing it with your thumb. It wasn’t your wand, the pattern unfamiliar and the weight of it a tad too light. It was James’. It’d been left on the second floor, far away from where his dead body laid. He never stood a chance, couldn’t have defended himself even if he tried.

A sob tore through your throat. It cut through the pelting of rain. It was the first real sign that you were alive. And once the first one escaped, you couldn’t stop the ones that followed until you were a trainwreck. Like a madwoman, you fell apart on the side of the road.

Dead.

You wouldn't actually believe they were dead and gone. It seemed cruel, for the world to give you and your brother people who loved and cared for you like family only to rip them away so brutally. Yet you couldn’t be delusional when faced with reality. The reality being James and Lily’s bodies being taken from their home.

Swiftly you turned your head, focusing on anything other than the whole in your chest and the lump in your throat. And you couldn’t stop the slightly deranged laugh that bubbled out of your mouth.

First Marlene.

Then Alice.

And now James and Lily.

It seemed like all your friends were dying.

OoO

Your room was trashed. Papers strewn about, furniture tossed and broken on the floor. It started when you threw your phone across the room, but then you couldn’t stop. It eased the ache in your chest and the throbbing headache. The destruction was a distraction from the whirlwind in your mind.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

‘All my friends are dead.’

The mantra repeated over and over again, the taunts sounding just like your mother. How foolish to think your life would simply become a fairytale after escaping your horrible parents. The prince was the devil and all your forest friends either died at the hands of hunters or betrayed the ones who trusted them most.

You awoke this morning to a new set of memories and it was as if your worst nightmares had come to light. That pit in your stomach that formed every time you thought of your past. The feeling that something horrible had happened was unshakable. At first you thought you were going crazy. Yet it was all with cause. Your life had been shattered long before Hydra had found you.

Sirius betrayed the Order, he betrayed James, and he betrayed you. A Death Eater, he was one of them. You didn’t want to believe it, unable to convince yourself that the man you’d grown up with. The one you used to run wild with, the only person that was always by your side when things went south at home. The only person who understood your fears and trauma’s because they were his too turned his back. He became everything he swore he’d never be.

He sold out James and Lily; killed Peter along with 12 muggles. There was no other explanation. He was their Secret Keeper, no one else could’ve given Voldemort James and Lily’s location.

And yet…

You couldn’t help the doubts that lingered in the edge of your thoughts. Even as you replayed the events that came to pass over and over again, it didn’t make sense. Or maybe you were just too delusional to ever believe that the people you’d been in Hogwarts had changed. That you weren’t all still 17 and evergreen, filled with pride and determination to change the world. You refused to accept that people grew and changed, and sometimes it wasn’t for the better.

You remembered being seventeen and willing to do anything and everything for the people you cared about. You remembered when without a shadow of a doubt, you could say the same thing about James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter. But now, you have to look reality straight in the eyes and face the music.

You weren’t seventeen anymore.

And all your friends were dead.

OoO

The autumn air was biting, the weather in London not nearly as forgiving as it was in America. Walking through the graveyard, you didn’t have to pay attention to where you were headed. You’d be here a dozen times before Hydra, and now you’d probably visit a dozen more times. Godric’s Hollow was peaceful, the storybook version of a tranquil village. You might’ve considered moving there if it wasn’t tainted with death. There was no one else around you, leaving you in silence. It was refreshing yet also maddening. You were never too comfortable with your own thoughts. Somehow they had a tendency of twisting against you, making existing in your own skin uncomfortable.

Autumn leaves crunch under the weight of your footsteps as you paused, finally reaching your destination. The two gravestones were well maintained, bouquets of flowers delicately placed near at the head of them. It makes your heart swell, a small amount of peace filling your mind. At the very least they weren’t entirely forgotten. Their legacies hadn’t been blown away by the wind.

You took a deep breath, an all too familiar lump forming in your throat. It made breathing difficult, every breath shuttered and unsteady.

“Hey Jaime, Lily. It’s been awhile. Sorry about that, I was a brainwashed assassin for a while, and then when I escaped I couldn’t remember who you were but uh-- I’m here now.”

You paused, swallowing thickly as tears pricked at the corner of your eyes.

“Turns out I was right and I wasn't delusional. Or maybe I was and it was purely coincidental I was right. Either way, it was Peter that sold you out, not Sirius, though you already knew that.”

A sob escaped your mouth and you firmly shut it, determined to not completely fall apart in the middle of a cemetery. Your whole body shook, quivering as tears fell from your eyes.

“I’m a part of the Avengers now. They’re Earth’s mightiest heroes, I think you’d like ‘em a lot. They’re my new family I guess.” A small smile formed on your lips. You truly had found a family in the Avengers, even with how jacked up you were.

“I’m turning twenty-four next month. Looks like I’m finally getting older, and I think I’m doing okay now that I'm not stuck with Hydra.” The barest hint of laughter left your mouth, the sound inaudible over the wind that swept it away.

“But I wish someone had told me I’d be doing it by myself.”

OoO

Tags: @aparadoxsstuff | @moonyinthestars | @Theyylovemeinmydreams | @nightless

[perceivedregret]

part 3 is here! can also be found on ao3, user is the same over there. part 1 of Extended Hours can be found here.

all of eden's vices running through my veins, oxytocin running in the ether

"So– you think Robin is pretty?"

Steve can't see their reactions, but he definitely feels it the way his hair gets pulled between their tiny fingers as the girls behind him agree adamantly with the statement.

"Mhmm, she's really pretty. Muy, muy bonita." Riley hums. Her fingers have stopped moving, which allows Steve to turn his head just enough to get a look at Riley, Jane, and Max behind him. Riley seems to be contemplating something. "Son sus ojos. Her eyes-"

"Robin does have nice eyes." Max agrees, her lips downturned at the corners in a way of agreement.

"I like her freckles," Jane mutters, pulling at a strand of Steve's hair before placing a bright yellow clip to keep it in place.

"Ugh, I hate my freckles."

"Ow! Okay, well you don't have to take it out on me," Steve's hand reflexively goes up to soothe at the sudden tug when a quick hand slaps his out of the way. " Hey -"

"Okay okay, sorry. But don't touch, we're not done playing with your hair." Max says in a hushed voice, taking another strand and beginning to twist it into a braid. They can't see the way Steve rolls his eyes.

"Well. If it's any consolation, I like your freckles." He glances down at his nails, which were an abhorrent mess of blue, green, and purple, picking at his cuticles to pull at the polish that overflowed his nail-beds and onto his skin.

He doesn't remember agreeing to this sudden makeover. Most of the kids had gone home pretty early for a Thursday, for whatever reason, so he and Robin decided to get the kids to eat their snacks a bit earlier than usual and wait out the last hour and a half in the cafeteria.

Right now the only ones left were these three who had Steve at their mercy and Darren and Alex. Robin was with the other two, helping them out with some math homework a couple tables down– something about going over their division and multiplications. Steve had been over their shoulder, watching Robin help them out for a while before the girls asked if he could "come over here really quick," and "just sit here," and "can you tilt your head back- yeah, like that! Now don't move."

Was it possible to be manhandled by a bunch of pre-teen girls?

"Where did you kids even get this stuff anyway?" He pulls the small bag of torturous devices and barely has the chance to rummage through the contents before Max yanks it from his grasp, fishing out a small band to tie off her finished braid before immediately starting a new one.

"From Chrissy. Eddie took me with him to her house yesterday. After he finished up with the Hellfire meeting, we went over to her place to have dinner with her and watch Poltergeist II . She said she didn't use these anymore and that I could have 'em."

" Poltergeist ," Steve huffs, "are you even old enough to watch that?" Wait . Back up . "Hold on, Chrissy? As in, Chrissy Cunningham?"

Max bobs her head, tongue between her lips as she gets towards the end of a strand and struggles to get the final stragglers together before putting on another tie. Jane had stopped participating in Steve's demise for the moment, had abandoned him and his impromptu makeover for one of her comics while Riley went through the bag and practiced naming the colors of different products in Spanish.

Eddie's circle continues to confuse Steve. A part of him remembers that the duo had already mentioned Chrissy casually in passing, something about giving her a ride home. But at the time Steve had thought nothing of it. He was always giving out rides, happy to help if he could. A long car ride was always appreciated to clear his own head.

And, sure, Max made sense after the whole moving across the street from him and… other developments. But what circumstances would bring Eddie together with Chrissy?

"Have you changed your mind about the make-up yet?" Max interrupts Steve's stream of thoughts as she reaches out to readjust the clip Jane had put in, gently setting it into a spot she deems appropriate. "I think you'd look really good with some color. Can I please put some blush-"

"Absolutely not. I've let you gremlins get away with enough for one afternoon," Steve remarks, a finger going up in warning.

Jane and Riley's attentions are officially back as they drop their distractions. They move in front of him  while Max continues to move strands around his head behind him. The three girls tower over him in his current position on the floor, inspecting their work as they move his head in different positions, seemingly impressed with themselves.

God, what did they do to me?

"Steve, stop frowning . We're trying to make you pretty."

A scoff escapes him as he dramatically places a hand to his chest, feigning offense and tugging his eyebrows even further together. He pulls his head away from their reach, earning him exasperated sighs as he spins in place from his criss-crossed position to fully face Max. 

"Maxine Mayfield, are you saying I'm not pretty?"

She opens her mouth to respond, except the reply doesn’t come from her, it comes from behind him– and it is definitively not the voice he expected, wanted ,  to hear right now. Not when he looked like this .

"I mean, I don't think we'd call you Steve 'the hair' Harrington if the world didn't think you were oh, so pretty."

Steve slowly shuts his eyes as he exhales forcefully from his nose. Heat was already rushing up his neck, to his ears until he's quite sure his cheeks were the shade of cherries. He's starting to wonder when he can start billing Eddie for his medical expenses– the constant sudden onset of palpitations could not be healthy.

When he opens his eyes, he barely suppresses a surprised gasp. Eddie was crouched in front of him, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He had his hair half up today, curls draped over his shoulders while the top sits in a small, loose knot. The tattoos were in full display as he wore a black sleeveless shirt, some band Steve doesn’t recognize across the chest.

Steve watches as Eddie raises his hand towards Steve's face to gently grasp his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Turns to the left. Turns to the right. Eddie then adjusts his hand so that his rings, ice cold against Steve’s burning face, are under his chin and gently tilts his face up.

“Today I’d say you look pretty charming .” Eddie’s eyes make a final sweep across Steve’s face before standing up, hand outstretched in offering.  “Ladies. Brava .” After helping Steve to his feet he makes a show of kissing his fingers like some Italian chef as he tilts his head to the girls. They giggle and play along with his antics, making exaggerated curtsies.

“Whatever Munson, wait until one of these days these girls decide to get their hands on you. Hair like yours? Count your days.” Steve playfully hits Eddie’s arm with the back of his hand once he’s up. He then makes an attempt to brush his hair back, out of habit, but stops as his fingers hit against a few clips. He rolls his eyes as he starts to remove the first one his fingers find.

“Take a seat, Harrington. I’ll get your scalp free, seeing as it was my dear Red here's doing.” Eddie directs an accusing look in Max’s direction before winking at her. He is fighting a bubbling laugh as he pulls on Steve’s arm, directing him towards the head of one of the cafeteria tables before motioning for him to sit. Eddie kicks lightly at Steve’s feet to get him to spread them enough so Eddie can stand between his knees and get started.

Except it’s not soon enough because just as Steve and Eddie settle into a comfortable position is when Darren, Alex, and Riley’s parents decide it’s time to pick up their kids.

“Hey kiddo! Are we ready to go- oh my goodness Steve! What have these girls done to you? Were you a part of this, too?” Mrs. Rider hides the laugh behind one hand as the other reaches out to Alex who approaches her, whose shoulders are shaking with laughter as she shakes her head in response. Alex turns back towards Steve and Eddie once she’s in her mother’s arms, her smile wide enough to expose the fact she’s missing one of her canines.

Steve acknowledges them all awkwardly from his position, lips in a tight line of embarrassment. He says his good-byes, wishing Darren and Alex good luck on their math quizzes for tomorrow, a quick “te veo mañana,” (he learned that one earlier today, thank you very much) to Riley who waves excitedly to him as her mother ushers her towards the doors.

“I think you look great.” Robin chirps from Steve’s left, already jotting down the pick up times and names on the sign-out sheet as the three families make their way towards the parking lot– but not without a few questioning glances from Mr. Win and Mrs. Corewell before they make their way outside, children in tow. Steve doesn’t notice, too busy glaring at Robin who says something about needing a drink before disappearing into the kitchen as Eddie makes work of his hair.

“Don’t you worry, my liege. Face like yours, it’s nearly impossible to ruin your image. Your crown will be back to normal soon. Promise,” Eddie murmurs, running his fingers through a section of hair that’s finally free.

There’s a knot. Except it isn’t in Steve’s hair because Eddie is gentle and methodically. He made sure to get the braids undone, clips freed, ties unwrapped before running his fingers through.

No, the knot isn’t in his hair– it’s in his gut. It jumps up into his chest, burrowing its way deep behind his ribs when Eddie’s nails rake through. They run through again, past his ears and towards the back of his neck. The knot is in his throat when Eddie tucks Steve’s hair behind his ear before he starts to undo another section.

If Eddie notices the way Steve's breath stutters, he doesn't comment on it.

The way they’re positioned has Steve about a head lower than Eddie, so at first his eyes had settled on the collar of Eddie’s shirt and the silver chain that hangs around his neck. But then his curiosity of Eddie’s tattoos took over, figuring he won’t get another opportunity to take a look. He remembers the bats on the forearm, but at this angle he’s able to see that he has a black cat on his bicep, mouth open in a hiss.

He tries to get a clearer look of what’s on Eddie’s forearm when Eddie runs his nails through his scalp again which makes Steve struggle to suppress a shudder. He has to close his eyes and bite the inside of his cheek as a tingling sensation trails down his spine. He gives up on trying to look at Eddie’s tattoos and focuses on keeping his breathing even.

It goes on like that until Steve’s hair is free. He only opens his eyes once he's sure he can stand up straight without keeling over. Eddie rests his hands on his own hips, leaning back to look over his handiwork, lips quirked in a lopsided smile. Max and Jane move to stand at either side of Eddie, mirroring his stance.

"Okay so maybe all the braids and clips killed some of your usual zhuzh, but "the king" shall reign." Eddie raises both hands as he takes a few steps back, fingers forming L's to frame Steve's face. He winks as he clicks one of his fingers to snap a shot. 

Steve rolls his eyes. "Please Munson, enough with the 'king' bullshit, I'm just Steve. Not 'the hair,' or 'your highness,' alright?"

Eddie drops his arms, a bit deflated before extending out his hands, soft smile on his lip. "Okay, just Steve, first off– I don't think I've referred to you as your highness before, but… I hear you. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm just Eddie. Although I take pride in being 'the freak,' so-"

"I don't think you're a freak, Munson," Steve huffs as he takes Eddie's extended hand and gives it a quick shake. "But, thank you." As Eddie pulls his hand away, his fingers trail from Steve’s wrist to the very tips of his fingers, catching for a moment before pulling away entirely.

Steve can’t bring himself to look away first. Eddie is the first to break their gaze as Max slips her pinkie into his before gently tugging at him.

“Mom is probably home right about now. We should go now so you can drop me off and you can make your shift.” Max seems to note the confused look on Steve’s face. If she’s home why isn’t she the one picking up Max? She answers the question in Steve’s frown in a near whisper as she averts her eyes. “Her car got repo'd.” She doesn’t explain further, but it’s enough for Steve to share a look with Eddie.

“You’re right.” Eddie clears his throat, bending his knees to pick up Max’s bag before shooting Steve a final smile. “Until next time, just Steve.” He shoulders her belongings as they make their way towards the doors.

“Eddie is pretty.” Jane mutters, mostly to herself right beside Steve as she waves at their retreating forms. He nods in agreement subconsciously.

“Bye Eleven. Call me when you get home.” Max shouts over her shoulder before disappearing with Eddie into the waning afternoon.

Steve turns his head to look down at Jane. “Eleven?”

She shrugs. “She noticed I’m always eleventh in line when you do the head counts.” She bends over to grab her belongings. She’s getting a ride to the station from Steve today. Hopper had called, something about a meeting with the Mayor. “You’d think after two years this dumbass would understand the concept of permits .”

“Robin, let’s go!” Steve has the clipboard in hand, filling out the rest of the sign-out sheet before grabbing his things. Robin burst through the swing-doors of the kitchen, 3 pouches of apple juice in hand and a glint in her eyes.

“I could go for some ice cream right now.”

—----------------------

Steve doesn’t know when he decided to make this right turn down this road. Just that it was an absolute last second decision as he swerved hard into the street, barely avoiding the curb. He currently finds himself parallel parked a few store fronts away from Skylar’s Vibe, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he contemplates entering the store.

He had already dropped off Eleven at the station and had just dropped off Robin who had been rambling on and on about Madonna and her new album and wanting to pick it up but not having a chance to.

“Robin, do you want to swing by the Vibe and pick up a copy? We can go right now.”

 “Ohhh, but Steve, do you think you could get it for me? I can’t go with you tonight. I have so much homework I need to get done and Nance is expecting me to call her at some point tonight so she can help me go over some of our chemistry notes. And Mr. Vargas is having us play for our Chairs tomorrow and I’m sure if I can get this last part of the chorus right I can just land Second Chair, so I need to get some practice in before bed. Before you start, no it can’t wait and yes I need this album yesterday! And you should definitely do this thing for me right now after dropping me off because you’re my best friend and you love me and you know I love you and will totally owe you one and- OH ! I’m so sorry.”

Steve couldn’t tell if what he felt for Robin was truly love in that moment as a few droplets of her strawberry ice cream flew directly onto his arm and shoulder, properly staining the sleeve of his lite-green polo.

“Robin, this is why I never want to get ice cream with you. You never finish it before it starts melting and you make such a mess when you start moving your arms like that. God , you’re lucky that I do in fact love you. I’ll get your damn album.”

“ Yay !”

Steve groans as he bows his head, forehead to steering wheel as he removes the keys from the ignition before stepping out. He inspects himself in the reflection of his driver side window. He’s back in the yellow sweater that he had in his bag, green polo definitively out of commission. He pinches at the faded purple stain that refused to come out at the hem with a small huff. Brushing his hair back as he stands up straight, Steve shakes out his hand to get the ants off his finger tips before making his way towards the store.

The ding of the bell above the door announces his arrival. “What’s up, welcome to- Harrington? What are you doing here?”

Eddie is dressed the same as he had been when he picked up Max from Extended Hours, except now he sports his patch and pin adorned vest. He’s behind the counter with a magazine of some shirtless guy in too tight leather pants on the cover with hair longer than Eddie’s. The guy has his head thrown back as their hips push suggestively against a bright red electric guitar. Eddie slowly shuts it as Steve makes his way over.

“No hi , hello, welcome to the Vibe– how can I help you, sir?” Steve leans onto the counter, finger interlocking as he stares at Eddie accusingly. “Where’s that customer service, Munson? What’s Skylar thinkin’, having you man the counter like this?” 

Eddie stares back at Steve with pursed lips and a glint in his eyes before leaning onto the counter, arm grazing Steve’s as he leans far enough until he’s close, too close. Steve takes a sudden intake of breath, which was a mistake because all he smells is Eddie’s shampoo and it makes his head go foggy. Apricots? 

He doesn’t stop leaning, doesn’t hesitate when his nose brushes Steve cheek. Doesn’t stop until his lips are so close to his ear Steve thinks he might actually melt right there. Apricots .

“I think Skylar is pretty ecstatic to have access to this po-dunk town's best stash of weed, thanks for askin'.” The heat of Eddie’s breath against his neck makes Steve's brain short circuit, wires flayed and Steve is unable to form words in response. 

Eddie pulls away enough until his face is in front of Steve, his smile wild. “What do you want, Harrington?”

"You- I mean, do you, the store- does this place have that new… shit." Steve leans back, bracing himself against the edge of the counter with his elbows locked and the tips of his fingers white from his grip to get away from that scent . Eddie watches with an amused smirk. Steve swallows hard before clearing his throat. "Sorry, um, Robin really wants that new Madonna album and I'm just being a great friend and getting it for her."

"Hmm, new Madonna album…" Eddie bites his bottom lip, eyes boring into the tapestries that hangs low from the ceiling as he searches for an answer in the pattern. "Oh, that album." He snorts as his head drops, face hidden behind his hair before he flips it back up. "It's over here." Eddie uses two fingers to beckon Steve to follow him.

Steve is resolved to taking shallow breaths as he trails behind Eddie. They walk past the milk crates and beaten up cardboard boxes of vinyl, magazines, and different how-to instrument books until they get to the pop section.

“Personally, this isn’t my genre of music,” Eddie starts as he pulls a vinyl from a bin before also picking up a cassette case from the bin adjacent. He turns to Steve with the cover of the vinyl pressed against his chest while the cassette is held up between his pointer and middle finger.  “But this actually makes a lot of sense for Buckley.” He presents them to Steve.

“Robs-” Steve fights a smile as he takes the vinyl and cassette of ‘Like a Virgin’, flipping the vinyl to get a look at the song list before flipping it back. Steve turns his head and squints until he sees Nancy staring back at him. He stops fighting and allows the smile to take over his face.  “Oh, this is perfect. I’ll take the cassette– Buckley doesn't have a vinyl player at her place. Do you guys have any posters of Madonna? Doesn’t have to be for this album in particular.”

They never did talk about the whole Robin crushing on Nancy thing, haven’t really had the time since it came up. Maybe he can broach the conversation tomorrow after Extended Hours when he gives her these.

“The things we do for the girls we love, huh?” Eddie moves past Steve and heads towards their section of posters.

“Yeah… think I’d die for that brat, ya know?” Steve mutters, mostly to himself, still going over the song list on the back of the cassette. 

“I’ll be completely honest with you Steve. When I first saw you and Buckley working together the last few times I came to pick up Max, I was genuinely surprised to see that the two of you were actually so… close?” Eddie returns with a rolled up poster before stopping in front of Steve and using the tip of the poster to poke Steve’s chest. “Can I ask how that even happened?”

“Oh, well, first off she and I aren’t together -”

“I didn’t say you were,” Eddie interrupts, voice soft as his lips pull into a smirk. His eyes roam over Steve’s face.

Steve swallows, hand going up to scratch away at the ants. “Oh. Sorry, it’s just what everyone assumes and we’re always having to-” Steve shakes his head. “Anyway, we first met when we worked at Scoops Ahoy, for a bit. That ice cream shop that opened up at Star Court. You know the one?”

Eddie’s eyes widened in recognition. “Wait, the one with the sailor hats and the blue uniforms?”

Steve nods solemnly before huffing out a breath. “Those shorts and that hat were a nightmare.”

“I bet.” Eddie’s eyes are looking past Steve, eyes glazed over for just a second before his eyes snap back to Steve, tips of his ears turning red before he leans back against one of the shelves and crosses his arms tightly against his chest, poster against his arm. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Steve squints at Eddie before continuing. “It was during the summer before my senior year and her junior– before the whole mall basically went up in financial flames and the whole thing shut down. We didn’t really get close until we ended up working Extended Hours. Murray had those sign up sheets for anyone interested and she and I were the first ones to sign up, fresh out of our summer jobs. Figured we worked well enough at Scoops, that maybe we could handle the kids since I was around most of them when I was dating Nancy.

“We were snooping one day while watching them in Miss Lowers classroom. She let us use her room while the janitors were cleaning up some mess in the classroom we usually use. And there were these…” Steve almost hesitates to continue before remembering who he’s speaking to and giggles through it. “There were these laced gummies we found in the desk that Miss Lowers had confiscated from Bonnie Wr-”

Eddie blinks a few times as if processing this information as he throws a hand out. “Hold on. You mean to tell me Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are joined at the hip because they got high together on school property ?”

“Dude, first off, we didn’t know   they were drug gummies. And, B, we didn’t end up eating them until way later when I was giving her a ride to her place. No kids were harmed or left improperly supervised.” Steve’s finger goes up, eyebrow arched. Eddie’s hands go up as if in surrender before beckoning for Steve to continue.

He looks up, eyes lost in the memory of the moments leading up to. It was so vivid until it wasn’t. “We ended up at her place just before it started to kick in. I was walking her to her door one second, and the next I was on my ass in the middle of her driveway and I swear to you, I thought I was fighting for my life against some Russian spies who wanted the secret ingredients to Scoops ice cream.”

Eddie’s hand slaps up to his mouth that’s in a straight line, fighting a laugh before muttering a silent “Oh, no.”

“It’s okay, you can laugh but– Munson, I genuinely thought we were going to die if I didn’t give this guy what he wanted.” Steve is in a fit of giggles, which sets Eddie off whose head goes back, arms at his stomach as a silent laugh racks his body. He exhales as he rights himself, wiping at his eyes before he looks back at Steve. 

Eddie shakes his head. “So, did the Russian spies get the secret ingredient?”

Steve gets stoic before he huffs at his nails, buffing them against his shoulder. “Can’t break me. The secret dies with me and Buckley.” Steve breaks immediately, cringing at himself. “But no, we… had a moment. That ‘we’re going to die so here are all my life’s secrets,’ kinda moment. She’s my best friend and I love that rambling band nerd.” He smiles at the memory one final time before rolling his eyes. “Even if she doesn’t know how to eat her ice cream. But speaking of friends, how did-”

Steve stops talking because Eddie’s eyebrows come together as his eyes catch onto something. He points to that something as he approaches Steve, who’s hands go up because why is Eddie pointing towards-

“Was this Buckley?” He grabs at the hem of Steve’s sweater, the fabric between his fingers as he pulls at Steve’s shirt slightly to get a better look.

Eddie’s rings barely graze against Steve’s abdomen, sending a chill up Steve’s spine. “No. No, that was me. Was making the kids PB&Js the other day. You make fifteen of those things and you're kinda doomed to make a mess.” He says it barely above a whisper, doesn’t need to be any louder because Eddie is that close. His throat clicks as he swallows. “Tried getting it out, but….”

“Hmm. Think I know a way to get that out. This is a nice sweater.” Eddie hums as he glances up at Steve. “You look good in it.” 

They don’t move. Eddie continues to pinch the hem of Steve’s shirt while Steve’s hands are clenched at his sides so tight that he’s surprised the cassette doesn’t crack. He's sure to have half moon crescents on the palm of his hand that doesn’t hold the tape. He wills his body to stay put, doesn’t even try to breathe because if he does his lungs will fill, and if his lungs fill– no, he can’t because he’s sure to go insane.

What’s wrong with me?

Eddie’s lips part, about to say something when the sound of the front door’s bell chimes throughout the store.

“Hey man, let me know if you need help with anything.” Eddie doesn’t avert his eyes. There’s a moment of hesitation, a flicker across his face but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. “I can check you out Steve.” Eddie just barely pulls at the sweater, but it’s enough to sway Steve forward. And he’s grateful because he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to take the first step to follow Eddie towards the counter without it.

With anyone else, at any other moment Steve would have had a come back, made a joke about the ‘checking him out’ comment but no, his tongue stays firm against the roof of his mouth. Can’t figure out why, can’t put it together, the same way he can’t figure out where those damn ants keep coming from.

He’s silent the entire way over, lost in his own head. He sets the cassette on the counter where Eddie takes it before grabbing a Thank You bag from behind the counter, tying the ends of the bag gently around the poster before setting it down and gives Steve his total.

He pays for it on autopilot, feels as if his head is under water as the guy who came in asks Eddie a question from somewhere far behind him. Steve doesn’t hear the response, just pulls out his wallet, pulls out some bills and waits for Eddie to give him his change. And when Steve holds his hand out, palm up he can’t help but feel… something because of the way Eddie’s hands hovered too high, just barely avoids touching his hand as the change cascades down.

Steve pockets it, barely hears Eddie as he continues to hold a conversation with the guy. The guy who interrupted them. Interrupted something . Was it something? It must be, because it was enough to leave this feeling in Steve’s chest.

Eddie is moving, still talking, but not to Steve. He comes around the counter and pats Steve on the back. His hand lingers and it’s like that touch that shocks him, what brings him back to the surface.

Suddenly Steve is spinning in place, arms out, searching until they find him. Steve grabs his arm, the bag of goods swaying dangerously in his other as he asks–

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

[world-of-aus]

Good For Me

Pairing:CEO!Steve Rogers x Secretary!Reader

Warnings: Alludes to smut, so 18+ I suppose.

A/N: Another Drabble of sorts for our up and coming CEO Sugar Daddy Steve! Listen though, @fandom-basurero​ brings out the baby hoe in me, like she just has to tell me to hear her out and I'm over here delivering her teaser filths left and right. So she told me to hear her out and I did, she wanted CEO daddy Steve to be getting some head and I said say no more, i’ll do what I can, and I have, enjoy sweet babes!

All Other Work Can Be Found On My Masterlist In My Bio.

‘You could give that man the world on a silver platter and he still wouldn’t blink an eye at you’

His thumb runs over your lower lip, “so goddamn beautiful sweetheart, look so beautiful on your knees tucked away between daddies legs.”

“Do you like the necklace I got you,” he murmurs fingers dancing along your buttoned blouse flicking away at the pearl like buttons that hold your shirt together, “looks awfully good on you, just like I knew it would,” he smiles, “you planning on telling me thank you, showing me just how much you like it,” he questions as his fingers hook on the silver chain pulling till he draws you closer between his legs.

Your body goes willingly, manicured hands laying flat on his parted legs as you shuffle closer wincing as the wooden floors burn the skin of your knees.

His thumb brushes your lower lip, your lips parting at the motion, “so good for me,” he breathes in the quiet after hours of his office, “you gonna take all of me today, keep me in that beautiful mouth of yours while I make a few calls?”

Your answer comes without hesitation, “yes daddy.”

His pink lips split into a mesmerizing grin, legs parting further, finger still hooked around your chain as he tugs you closer, “good girl, now the belts not gonna unbuckle itself so why don’t you get to work, clients don’t like to wait and neither do I, you can do that for me can’t you, get me out of my pants?”

Your nodding your head, nimble fingers reaching for the buckle of his belt, he takes your chin in his fingers freezing your movements, as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, “be good for me and I'll give you anything your heart desires.”

‘I would have submitted my resignation the first day under Roger’s, he's an absolute ass, how you’ve lasted this long is by me, the guy obviously doesn’t know how to treat the women under him’

His favorite silk black tie is shoved in your mouth; “no one could compare to you y/n, you know that right,” he questions from behind your bent over form, “I might not say it enough - but you truly do go above and beyond for me don’t you,” he murmurs his hand landing roughly on your exposed back side, fingers kneading your ample flesh.

Your incoherent behind the material he’s managed to force into your mouth, “shh,” he hushes, smoothing over the sting of your skin, “don’t want anyone wandering in here do we, it might be after hours, but there’s likely to be a few stragglers,” he murmurs.

You let out a quiet whine, which earns you a husky chuckle, “missed seeing you today you know,” he continues fingers running along your skin dipping then rising. “Buck had you running errands all day, swear that punk is trying to steal you from me, I wouldn’t doubt it, I've heard the whispers.” His hands dip a little farther seeking out your heat, “been hearing a lot of talk from the others in this office that you should sign with him, take his offer, has he asked you to work under him, promised you things that I couldn’t?”

Your answer is muffled through the gag, though its not long that you have to wait before Steve is pressing into your back his hand reaching for the tie, pulling the material from your mouth, “what was that,” he questions.

“He has asked me to work for him,” you answer, “has promised me a better position-” Steve tsks, begins to move away, but your hand leaves the wooden oak desk grabbing whatever part of him you can reach to hold him in place, “but,” you continue, “there’s only one person I would rather be under, and it isn’t Barnes, he - he can’t give me the things that I truly want.”

The office grows quiet; and you almost worry that you’ve said something wrong, gone to far with the intimate thoughts you shared, but then Steve is moving so quickly his movements jar you. His hands find your hips turning you quickly your backside hitting the desk just as roughly as your front had the second you had been within arms reach of your boss.

He’s pressing into you, his erection straining against his grey slacks, warm hands finding your face, “and what is it that you want,” he questions blue orbs staring right into yours.

You lick over your bottom lip, heart thrumming away steadily in your chest a wild drum sounding in your ear, “you - I want you.”

A breathtaking smile kisses your bosses lips, his head finding yours, “my girl,” he murmurs his thumb once more running over your parted lips, “my sweet, sweet girl, you’re too good to me, more than I deserve.”

Now that it’s out in the air there’s a part of you that feels you need to say more, but Steve doesn’t give you the chance as his lips crash to yours, his tongue sliding past your lips to dance with yours.

“gonna give you everything and more,” he groans his hips grinding into yours, “gonna make sure my girl know how much she's adored, now lay back for me sweetheart, let daddy take care of you.”

You don’t have to be told twice, your clothed back meeting the chill of the wooden desk beneath you, hooded eyes watching, waiting for his next move. His eyes are locked with yours as his hands roam your body, hiking your already pressed up skirt further up your hips.

His hands leave the warmth of your body to work open his slacks, his hardened cock springing from the tight confines. He presses in close, cock head slipping past your folds drawing a low whine from your lips. He hushes you with a press of his lips to yours licking away at your groans till his his are flushed with yours.

“Shush now kitten, daddy’s gonna make you feel real good, gonna give you everything you could ever want and more.”

‘Barnes is willing to give you a raise y/n, a raise to get you to sign under him, it’s not like you’d be leaving the office, you’d just be working for someone nicer, take the offer’

You’re perched on his lap again, it’s after hours and there’s not another soul in the office except for the two of you, the way Steve likes.

The second you had walked in after receiving his call you had expected to find yourself on your knees, or your back on his desk, but he had surprised you when he pushed back his chair, patting his thigh.

Even more surprised when he shook his head at you when you tried to straddle his lap like you had many times before, ‘just sit down sweetheart none of that tonight’.

You didn’t question him as you took your seat, one hand circling your waist the other finding your cheek. The office grew quiet as you stayed like that staring at one another, “is - is something wrong did I do something,” you found yourself asking after a beat of silence.

He shook his head, thumb running along your cheek, “you could never do me wrong sweetheart, never but -”  the words die on his tongue.

“What’s wrong?”

He licks over his bottom lip, you can see him considering his next words, his eyes meet yours, “you know I’d never hold it against you if you felt you’d be treated better under barnes right, nothing between us would change if you chose to work under him.”

“Do you want me to sign with Bucky, do you want me to take his offer,” you question.

“god no sweetheart I-”

“then don’t ask me too, I don’t care what others have to say,” you reply, your hand finding his stubbled cheek, “I could have reported you, and signed under Bucky the first time you asked me to fall to my knees for you, but I didn't - and its because I wanted this too, I wanted you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth though its small, “you want me sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, a similar smile pulling at your lips, “as horrible as you can be,” you tease, “I do - I do want you.”

His head finds yours, “what would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn probably, I doubt Bucky would hire another secretary after me you’re too much work,” you grin.

“I am aren’t I,” he chuckles, “think I should show you that I'm worth the trouble.”

Your head tilts to the side in question, though it goes unanswered as Steve ushers you up and off his lap. He moves the two of you around as he guides you back into the office chair.

“Steve what-”

He smirks as he drops to his knees before you, strong hands grabbing ahold of your thighs as he pulls you and the chair forward spreading your legs.

“Think its about time I show you just how good I can be for you, don’t you?”

Oh you couldn’t agree more.

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[jaeskind]

Billy didn’t look at him anymore. Not since the fight.

It’s something like a relief at first. Really. Not getting hassled in the halls, or in gym class anymore. Except for Tommy, but even he gives it up after a week or so, after it’s clear Billy isn’t biting.

Winter melts into a muddy spring, and it’s about then that it starts to grate. At least, it starts to grate in a way that can’t be tuned out into the background, like so many other paranoias and stresses. Steve manages, he’s been doing it long before he knew there were literal monsters in the world.

So he starts looking instead.

Not in a weird way, it’s not like Steve’s going out of his way to cross paths with Billy. He might... drift to certain places he thinks Billy might frequent; the parking lot at lunch, the bathroom near the science labs with the tape patched window, even past the principal’s office when he’d heard rumblings of fights in the halls. No luck.

In fact, the only time he does manage to see Billy outside of the usual snatches was a lunch he’d decided to spend in the library, Steve trying to take a step in the direction of getting over himself and Billy Hargrove. So... library. It makes sense. What doesn’t make sense is said hurdle number two strolling into the library like he somehow belongs there, bored blue eyes scanning the tables and shelves, managing to skip over Steve twice before settling on him. Which is just... rude, first of all.

Steve can deal with rude though, what really pushes it over the edge is the way Billy stalks to the nearest table, snatches a book off it, shoves it into the return bin and turns right back out of the library. To anyone who hadn’t watched the whole petty performance, it would look rational, but it was enough to turn that grating into a full blown itch crawling under Steve’s skin. This is personal, somehow. He just needs a chance to... air it out, ask Hargrove what his problem was. Because that’ll just go great, right?

Just talking to Billy really makes the best sense. It cuts right to the heart of everything fast, and even though Steve knows all too well what Billy can do when his buttons are pushed, he’s not actually all that afraid. There’s just no room for it in his pretty little hair sprayed head, so it lurks somewhere in his guts instead, waiting for the right time to rear its ugly head. It’s another two days before it gets the chance, two days of reassuring himself that this is the best idea, two days of taking extra long extra hot showers and scrubbing at his skin until he’s pink.

Two days before Steve walks out towards the rapidly emptying parking lot and sees the Camaro is still there. Billy lounges behind the wheel, a cigarette hanging between his lips and the window beside him cracked just enough to let in fresh air. The pounding rumble of drums and guitars that reaches Steve as he walks towards his own car isn’t undercut by the hum of an engine, which means Billy’s here for a bit. Waiting for Max, who’s more than likely in AV club, if Steve’s got his days right.

This is it.

He’s backed in a few spaces away from the Camaro, but by the time Steve’s casual pace gets him to the Beamer, the last car seperating them is pulling away. There’s still a few too many people lingering in the lot for him to want to try anything. So he throws his bag into the passenger seat and fishes in the glove box for a pack of smokes he hasn’t touched in months, a single sad looking cigarette sitting alongside a lighter in the box. He pulls back, closing the car door with his ass while he lights up and immediately regrets it, the stale tobacco roughing up his throat. It’s the most he can to do to keep his eyes from bugging out of his head, but by the third puff he’s managed to smooth himself out, managed to settle into something that should seem at least halfway to casual to anyone looking.

The sun might be out, shining valiantly in a too blue sky, but there’s still a bitter chill in the air, spring reluctant to come out fully sprung as always. Steve watches the lot empty, silently cheering when the last stragglers get far enough away for comfort. He throws his unfinished smoke to the side and steps forward, long strides taking him to the Camaro’s window. Fingers rap on the glass with a firm confidence Steve doesn’t actually feel, though he does feel an indignant bristling rush up his spine when the blond simply slouches away from the window, reaching out to turn the radio up while he shifts.

“Asshole!” Before Steve can talk himself out of it he’s striding around the Camaro and pulling open the passenger door, sliding himself into the seat and turning to Billy before he can say a word. “What the hell is your problem with me man? Did I miss something?” Because sure, there’s the obvious, but the obvious doesn’t warrant months of being ignored and avoided. Weeks, yeah, he could see it, but this was getting ridiculous.

Billy doesn’t do anything more than look at him, at first. It’s obvious even behind the sunglasses that for the first time in a long time his eyes are on the other boy. His lips stretch open to show off most of his teeth and the quickest flash of a pink tongue. It’s an expression that might look like a smile on someone else. “There’s no fucking problem, Harrington.” The words don’t growl out of him, despite the snarl on his face, but the carefully measured hostility might actually be worse.

It’s a threat that Steve tucks away for later, when the nerves thumping at his false sense of confidence break through. “Well you know, I just thought-“

“I don’t give a shit what you’re thinking.” Quick as anything, Billy cuts him off, lifting his hand from the shifter to shove a finger into Steve’s face. “There’s no fucking problem.”

The nerves haven’t broken free yet, so Steve takes that as permission from himself to poke again, scoffing out a single disbelieving “Dude.” It’s enough to snap the frayed tether of control holding the other together, the outstretched hand grabbing a hold of Steve’s shirt while the other curls into a fist.

Billy has freckles on his knuckles. It’s a stupid thing to notice while said knuckles are flying towards his jaw, but hey, no one ever accused Steve of being smart.

The strike to his jaw has him groaning, dazed, but it doesn’t stop his hands from fruitlessly scrabbling at Billy’s, trying to free himself. The other hasn’t stopped moving, twisting in the seat to press more of his weight against Steve while a hand searches for the handle. All it takes is a rough shove, once the doors open, and Steve tips back ass first onto the pavement, the wind knocking out of him in an entirely different way.

There’s just enough sense left in his head to make him scrabble back, just barely getting his legs out of the way before the car door slams shut again, and well, Steve knows the difference between pushing his luck a little and a lot. He gets back to his feet, dusts himself off, walks back to his own car and he just drives home.

He’d only learned one thing in the whole stupid endeavour, but it was one thing that somehow made everything else worth it. The wasted weeks and the edges of nightmares and the bruise that blooms almost immediately on his skin. All worth it, because now Steve knows having Billy’s eyes on him is much better than being ignored.

Now he just needs to figure out how to make it happen more.

[psychologicalwhorefare]

week of 1/7/2023 top 40 ranking. first of the new year! and all we've got are a couple of straggler christmas songs that scraped their way into the top 40 at the last second

Steve Lacy - Bad Habit

Nat King Cole - The Christmas Song

Brenda Lee - Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree

Beyoncé - CUFF IT

Sam Smith - Unholy (feat. Kim Petras)

Wham! - Last Christmas

Thurl Ravenscroft - You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch

Drake & 21 Savage - Rich Flex

Kelly Clarkson - Underneath the Tree

Bobby Helms - Jingle Bell Rock

Gene Autry - Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Eartha Kitt - Santa Baby

The Weeknd - Die For You

Mariah Carey - All I Want For Christmas Is You

Donny Hathaway - This Christmas

Harry Styles - As It Was

Perry Como & The Fontane Sisters - It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas (with Mitchell Ayres & His Orchestra)

Bing Crosby - White Christmas

Ariana Grande - Santa Tell Me

Elvis Presley - Blue Christmas

Dean Martin - Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

The Ronettes - Sleigh Ride

Taylor Swift - Anti-Hero

The Jackson 5 - Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

Metro Boomin - Creepin' (with The Weeknd & 21 Savage)

SZA - Kill Bill

Chuck Berry - Run Rudolph Run

Andy Williams - It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

The Beach Boys - Little Saint Nick

Frank Sinatra - Jingle Bells

Nat King Cole - Deck The Halls

Darlene Love - Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)

Burl Ives - A Holly Jolly Christmas

Gene Autry - Here Comes Santa Claus

José Feliciano - Feliz Navidad

Andy Williams - Happy Holiday/The Holiday Season

Paul McCartney - Wonderful Christmastime

David Guetta - I'm Good (Blue)

Michael Bublé - It's Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas

Chris Brown - Under The Influence