#(wait i just noticed. steve are you wearing that same scarf too??)

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[elias-code]

Two Left Hooves [1/7]

Choose your own adventure ~ "Intro"

Characters: Technoblade x gn!reader, Philza, Eret

Summary: This is a choose-your-own-adventure!! You met Techno through Phil, helping him get rid of his headache after hibernation. He was immediately infatuated with you. Techno invites you to go to Eret's banquet. When you arrive to prepare for the banquet, he tells you that he will only sleep in his room with you if you wanted, now you get to choose if you want to sleep with him or not…

Warnings: Cussing

--- Phil ---

“Hey, Techno,” I peeked my head around the corner, holding the letter behind my back away from his line of sight.

“Hullo,” He turned to me, hands still in his hair, pin sticking out of his mouth. He was braiding his pink hair, unaware that his worst nightmare was about to come true. “So, mate,” I walked in, hands still behind my back, “I got some mail.”

“Mhm,”

“You remember the egg?”

“Yeah, what about it?” He turned back to the mirror, inspecting the last loop he’d made.

“Eret is hosting another banquet,”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you’re invited,” his face in the mirror went pale, “since you’re the one who yeeted it.”

Techno paused, unmoving. Slowly, he tied the ribbon at the bottom of the braid, securing it with the pin. He made eye contact with me, his eyes were begging me to yell psych! and run out the door. Instead, I held the opened letter, once hidden behind me, up in the air, presenting it to him.

“Phil…”

“Yeah?” I laughed, this was the most scared I’ve ever seen him.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope, look.” I shook it at him, flipping it over to show Eret’s handwriting: To Technoblade and Philza Minecraft.

He shuddered slightly, finally turning to me and taking the letter from my hands. It read:

Technoblade and Philza,

This may seem strange and menacing, but I promise it’s not. Ever since the red banquet disaster, I’ve been thinking about how much I think the people of this server need a pick-me-up. We needed a re-do.

So, I’ve decided to host a banquet, this time out in the open with no bullshit. There’ll be drinks, games, and dancing, and I want you to be there. Since you had a lot to do with the egg’s eventual downfall, I personally think you need to be there, Technoblade.

I’ll tell you what I’ve told everyone else. There’s a plus-one requirement for safety reasons (buddy system), and so I’ve addressed this to both of you. I look forward to your attendance! I suggest wearing something else since I don’t want anyone having flashbacks when they see your royal gown.

On the back of the card, Eret wrote the coordinates and information about the dress code. The card had gold decorations on the edges, curling and twisting like vines, dotted with golden roses complete with thorns. The dress code specified that the suggested colours were black, white, blue, and gold, hence the bordering roses.

“Do you own anything you think you could wear?” I asked as he handed the card back to me.

“I still have the Arctic coat, but if this is anywhere near L’Manburg, it’s gonna be too hot for that.”

“Right, I might have to make something for you then,”

“Alright,” He hesitated, “Do I have to go? That’s a lot of enemies in one place…”

“Yeah, sorry mate, you have to go.” I put the card back into the envelope, closing and pocketing it. “Oh, wait, one thing Techno,”

“There’s more?”

“Um, I can’t go.”

“What?” “I can’t go to the banquet,” I was lying, but he didn’t need to know that, “I’m supposed to be at the ocean monument that day.”

“And your fishing can’t wait?” He raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. “Who am I supposed to bring?”

“I dunno, mate,” I shrugged and clicked my heel against the floor, “Maybe you can bring that bird I introduced you to… if you can find them.”

— Techno —

“Phil, who’s this?” I had walked into the kitchen, half-dressed. I was not expecting to see someone else sitting at the table. They looked at me, smiling and waving.

“Oh hello sleepyhead,” Phil remarked, stirring the rabbit stew that hung over the fireplace, “I dunno, they don’t seem to have a name.”

“Hello!” I looked back at them. They were dressed in forest green pants, tucked into black boots lined by silver buttons with fancy engravings, laced in leather strips, looped and tied at the top of the boot. Their top was one of mine, an old long-sleeved white cotton top Phil had probably found in the back of the closet. They had a golden-yellow scarf slung over their shoulders. I waved awkwardly, still half asleep.

“You don’t have a name?” I asked, still confused.

“Uh, I guess not. Phil’s the only person I’ve seen in a while.” They said, pointing at him. He was closing the white under-curtains, almost like he was avoiding the interaction.

“Then what do I call you?”

“Phil’s been calling me the bird.”

“Bird, huh?”

“He says it's because I’m migrating.”

That was strange enough as it was, and I decided to leave it there. Talking was making my headache worse, so I walked over to the stew, immediately recognizing the smell of carrots, potatoes, and chicken over the rabbit smell. My stomach grumbled, attempting to convince me to shove my face into the pot and gorge myself, but I pulled back.

“Is it ready yet, Phi?” I asked.

“No, it still has a couple of minutes, don’t go touching it yet. We should all eat together.”

I could wait a bit longer, I supposed. The smell was enticing, but my attention still lingered on the “bird” sitting at the table, reading a book. I sat down at the table and thumped my head onto it, only to make my headache worse.

“Ughhhh,” I groaned.

“You ok?” The bird asked.

“Headache,”

“Ah, I have something for that!” They picked up a bag from the floor and rummaged around in it for a bit before pulling out a small vial of green liquid. They uncorked it and an overwhelming spinach smell washed over me. “It might smell odd, but it works wonders.”

I lifted my head off the table and took the vial from them, inspecting it.

“Is this thing safe to drink?” I furrowed my eyebrows at them, looking for dishonesty.

They snatched it from me and took a swig, swiftly handing it back to me. “Take that as a yes.” They said.

— The Bird —

I knocked on the door, shivering slightly in the cold. I wore three layers, an undershirt, a turtleneck, and a thick coat. I got a letter a couple of days ago from Technoblade, asking me to go to the banquet with him and inviting me to stay at his cabin before the banquet. I accepted and sent the letter the same day since I knew the mail was slow. Just one day later, I hopped on my horse and made my way to the far arctic.

Techno opened the door and ushered me inside, shutting the door behind me.

“Jesus, you’re shivering,” he said, grabbing his cape off its stand and wrapping me with it. Thankfully, my face was already red enough from the cold that he didn’t notice me blush.

“Is your horse outside?”

“Yeah, I tied her up to the post,” I pulled the enormous cloak tighter to me, “but I don’t think she should stay there for long, it's too cold.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” He said, turning from me and walking out the door. The sudden freezing breeze pushed me into the living room, near the fire. I sat down in an armchair and Steve wandered over to say hello.

“Hey, Steve…” I offered my hand to him and he sniffed it, grunting in my face with his fishy breath, “You do not smell good, big boy…”

He huffed like he understood what I said and I chuckled. He sat at my feet as I scratched his head. “At least you’re soft, Steve.” You smiled, “Good boy…”

The door opened and slammed again, Techno walked over dusting his hands off and Steve lumbered over to greet him.

“Hello Steve, you’ve inspected them, yeah?” He baby talked at him. The polar bear was big, almost as tall as Techno standing on all fours. It was strange to see such a big man 'baby talk' an apex predator, so you laughed a bit to yourself.

“What?” He asked, patting Steve on the head.

“Nothing, you’re just being cute.”

He smiled and sat himself down on the couch, crossing his legs and looking at you.

“If I’d left you out there any longer, you would have gotten frostbite,”

You realized you were still shivering in his cloak, “Yeah, thanks for not letting me die out there, and for the cape,”

“If I’d let you die, I wouldn’t have a date for the banquet.”

“Ooh, I’m a date now, am I?” I teased.

He blushed and looked away, still smiling.

“I suppose so,” he whispered.

He stood and offered a hand to me. I took it and stood, following him upstairs to his room, the only bedroom in the house. The room had recently been tidied, the paintings on the wall included snowy landscapes and one of a wither. The curtains were open, the night sky illuminating the room. The moonlight made everything a pale blue, almost making Techno’s hair purple.

“I don’t have anywhere else for you to stay right now unless you want to sleep on the couch.”

“Are you also sleeping here?”

“Only if you’re ok with it,” He said, kneeling by the fireplace and setting logs on the grate.

Would he really? He seems so shy…

— Technoblade —

I could feel my blood rush to my face as they asked if I’d sleep with them. I turned to the fireplace and lit the fire, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Only if you’re ok with it,” I said.

They paused and my heartbeat harder, unsure what they were going to say. I started preparing the fire, putting the hesitation out of my mind.

////////UNDER CONSTRUCTION BRRRRRRRRR (2/3 complete)///////

Do you allow him to sleep with you?

Yes, tell him you’re going to be cold and need the body heat. (NSFW)

Ask where he wants to sleep. (Fluff)

No, respectfully suggest he sleep on the couch. (SFW)

[harold231]

It wasn't real

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Posted: 04/30/2021

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None? Maybe a lil angst just a lel bet.

A/N: I think it might be good? Idk You let me know. But like frfr, don't just give me feedback in your mind, put it into words. Also I apparently have a thing for Bucky in a dotted apron soooo yeah.

FYI: time zone/era is open for interpretation. Bucky never became an avenger/soldat and steve isn't part of this one.

The wind that blew around you was warm and sweet with the scent of freshly bloomed flowers. Perhaps it was an act of kindness from some God trying to distract you from the cold bitterness settling into your bones. Closing your eyes you conjure the very memory that left you so desolate.

The sun snuck it's way through the curtains to illuminate the room, effectively disturbing the sleep that you always seemed to be craving. Waking up is always hassle but whenever you remember that you get to spend your day with the only person who tolerates you and you him, getting out of bed is the easiest thing. Bucky is crazy and the damn boy is never in one spot for to long and he always has something to say, but you can't imagine how boring your days would be if you guys had never met. well technically if your parents had never met.

When you were a child you parents had to move to new york for business and they decided that Brooklyn was the place to be. You had been Bucky's neighbor and the first day you guys moved in his mom had dragged him over with the most delicious angel food cake that he so proudly claimed to have made mostly on his own. He just loved cooking and baking since forever, he would tell you that he just liked experimenting with foods but you knew the truth was that the boy liked to eat and didn't have the patience to wait for his mother to come home.

Only a few years after your family had moved to Brooklyn you and Bucky had already built an unbreakable bond. You guys had found a beautiful cherry tree one day when playing tag and had deemed it to be your's and Bucky's spot. Whenever you had a bad day or needed time away from the world you guys would go to the tree and just pick cherries, in the winter time you and Bucky would lay under the tree and kick the trunk so that the snow would fall from the leaves. It was the place where at only 15 years old bucky swore he would open his own Bakery and to quote him "I'm serving my ma's food my way doll, It's gonna be the next best thing to hit New York."

You were laying on the ground with your hands crossed behind your head looking up at Bucky swinging upside down from a branch when he told you all this. You felt something you had never felt before at that moment, looking up at the wild haired boy who loved to eat, loved his family, and had the most ambition you had ever heard from kids your age. Your heart felt full and your cheeks grew warm as you looked up at the same blue eyes you had know for years now, only this time you notice the way they twinkle in the sunlight and how rosy his lips are. Now 7 years laters you and Bucky were preparing to open the very bakery he promised you he'd open. Banners were beautifully strung along the walls and cute retro china was set out, ready to be filled for opening day. There was no hesitation from you when Bucky had asked you to run the bakery with him, you were excited to spend your days with the person you hoped you would spend the rest of your life with.

At around 6:30 in the morning you had arrived at the bakery but it seemed that Bucky had beat you to it. The smell of fresh angel food cake and cocoa danced up your nose as soon as you opened the door. Closing your eyes you smiled at the memories that it brought back. Moving to the back you grabbed your Disney themed apron and placed your bag and coat in its place before scurrying over to the kitchen while trying (and failing) to tie your apron. There in all his dorkiness was Bucky wiggling around to the chordettes. He knew that you loved the 50's aesthetic so he found a way to incorporate it without going overboard, by adding little trinkets, a jukebox, and even those cute little dining tables. In fact at the moment he was wearing a ruffly red polka dotted apron as he frosted some cupcakes.

Apron tied, you were finally ready to get to work. You walked up to Bucky bumping his hip as you reached for some cupcake pans, "Whatcha doin here so early Buck, we don't open until 12" he looks at you with squinted eyes, "The hell are you doing here so early." "Woah,woah,woah completely unprovoked. I'm just saying cuz' you were the one complaining about the opening time being set at 8. Like damn." Breathing out a huff of air he wipes his forehead with a towel "I'm sorry doll, I'm just super nervous and I couldn't sleep so I came to start baking things. I already frosted the ice cream cakes and I just finished the pies, but I was thinking that maybe we needed some cupcakes too, even though we already baked so many pastries and stuff last night I'm worried it won't be enough."

Setting down the trays you move to hug Bucky from behind holding him close to you. "Buck I know we'll do great your food is too good to pass up on especially when it's free." You place a soft kiss to his shoulder " I promise you'll do great, everything you do is amazing you try your hardest at everything Buck, You've worked your butt off and made mine considerably larger to get here, don't start losing your mind on me now." A cute little laugh from Bucky lets you know that he's hearing you and he isn't so stressed anymore. "I just want this to be perfect ya know?" with your head still against his back you nod, "I just want it to be a special day for my special girl."

You couldn't stop the slight blush that rose to your cheeks or the way that your heart suddenly started beating three times faster. You had also wanted to make him something special which is why you had got here so early. Finally releasing your hold on Bucky you straighten your apron out before gathering everything you need for some red velvet cupcakes. Bucky loved your red velvet cake so you loved making it for him. After hours of mixing, baking, and frosting had passed, you guys were rewarded with a bakery that looked as great as it smelled. "Alright doll, I'm heading out, I gotta go get ready. Meet you back here at 12 , Love ya." He didn't even give you a chance to answer as he ran right out the door. "Love you too."

You had stayed behind just a little while longer as you perfected your secret project. Carefully you added snowflakes to some of the cupcakes because you knew how much he loved snow even if he hated winter, some cats, flowers that reminded you of bucky, and one extra special cupcake. When you finish you decide to clean up a bit more and prepare some drinks for later before heading home to get ready. As soon as you got home you took a shower and did the simplest of make up with a light pink lip. You had decided to wear a dress to match the blossoming flowers that spring had brought. Pink with a yellow lace trim and flowers embroided all over the dress, matching it with some yellow flats.

You had decided that it was a perfect day for a walk so you grabbed a light scarf and slung it over your shoulders, grabbed Bucky's cupcakes, and headed over to the bakery. You felt as if a Hundred pounds had been lifted from your shoulders knowing that Bucky had felt the same way about you. You had decided that you would tell him today with your special cupcakes. As you rounded the corner you felt giddy and you couldn't wipe the smile from your face no matter how hard you tried. As you reached the bakery you saw that a majority of the people had already arrived and you knew that it would put Bucky at ease to see all the people enjoying his food. You stopped at the window, closing your eyes to take a deep breath to prepare yourself to join the celebration.

Opening your eyes you reached for the handle only to stop at the sight on the other side of the door. Bucky stood there arms wrapped around a woman eyes locked on hers as he leaned in for a kiss. It must have all happened in about 30 seconds but it felt as if time himself had slowed it down for you to watch the way he tilted her head and ran his tongue along her bottom lip before finally uniting their lips. Your heart dropped as quickly as your smile did and suddenly you felt so stupid for thinking this could be real. You willed yourself not to cry as you allowed your legs to carry you anywhere but there.

That's how you found yourself sitting underneath a blossoming cherry tree. A tree that held only happy memories because it wasn't a place you could be sad... back then. With your back against the tree and box of cupcakes full of unrequited love in your lap you realize how much you over romanticized Bucky. Opening the box you decide it would be a shame to let them go to waste. The first one you grab has a big red heart frosted in the middle, you let out a deep sigh before breaking the cupcake right down the middle. You shove half of the cupcake into your mouth and only then do you allow the tears to fall. You sat there for hours crying eating cupcakes, watching the sunset, and thinking about everything that Bucky did for you, as a friend. You realize you had no right to be angry at Bucky, after all you never told him how you felt you just assumed that he would feel the same way after so many years. With every broken memory another cupcake vanished.

He was always there for you, when no one wanted to come to your slumber party Bucky did and he even did all the girly things with you. Painting your nails, doing your hair, watching chick flicks, and pillow fights. once he even asserted that no one could protect you as well as he could, when you had decided to go camping with your friend from class so he insisted on taking you himself. Your friend was most noticeably gay so you had assumed he wanted to spend time alone with you. But now that you think back on those memories these are things that anyone would do for their bestfriend. And that's what you realized 8 hours and 11 cupcakes later.

The moon floated above you and as it's white rays settled upon the lake you decided it might be time to go home now. You get up and dust your dress off before leaning down to grab the mostly empty box. Turning around you are stopped again by what's in front of you. Bucky stands there brows furrowed as his eyes flash from you to the box in your hands. "Where the hell have you been, I've been calling you all day." swallowing the lump in your throat you go to answer but are interrupted. " everyone's been asking me about you all night and I had no damn idea what to tell them, but apparently you were just out here being inconsiderate. You go and tell me I can do great tonight, that you'd be there for me, but you weren't." You try to answer him but are again interrupted. "You could have told me something earlier instead of leaving me there like a dumb-" "SHUT UP!" this time it was your turn to interrupt him.

Taking a deep breath you look into his eyes before explaining. "Of course I was ready to be there today, you think I wore this dress to sit under a damn tree? Well I didn't. When I left my apartment I was ready and I was excited, so excited. I couldn't even stop smiling on my way over, but then I got to the shop and I saw-" Immediately you stopped as you realized what you were about to say. He cocked an eyebrow and shook his head slightly as if to say 'Hello?' "You saw what? What did you see that would make you abandon ship just like that?" Shame flushed through your being and you could no longer keep eye contact. "Nothing, you know what, it doesn't even matter. I'm sorry I was being dramatic I should have been an adult and dealt with it on my own time. And I'm sorry I abandoned you all, but the night was about you anyways."

"The night was supposed to be about the both of us so it does matter if you saw something that made you want to leave. Just tell me doll, what did you see?" his voice is soft as he pleads with you. "I saw... well I saw you kissing that lady and I just wanted get away and ended up here okay!?" You said it all in a jumble hoping that he wouldn't be able to understand what you had said. But luck wasn't your friend so of course he did. "So seeing me kiss another person was so gross to you that you had to run away, what the hell? are you 13 again?" You hadn't admitted it outloud yet and it seemed that the dumbass in front of you was going to force it out of you.

Stepping around Bucky you pull your scarf tight around your body as you focus on not crying anymore until you get home. You distract yourself by thinking of all the love you saw in all the little things Bucky did for you. Dancing around the newly furnished bakery body against body as frank sinatra brought you heart to heart, watching rom-coms and ugly crying together, but by the time you get home you force yourself to face the ugly truth. The Love was always in your head. It wasn't real.

A new wave of tears blurred your vision as teardrops fell perfectly to the ground. "It's because I have feelings for you Bucky, and I now know you don't feel the same way." Sniffling you don't bother looking up because your heart is to broken for that right now. "I'm Just gonna need a little bit of time and I'll be back good as new like nothing even happened." Still unable to lift your gaze from the ground you decide to focus on the last cupcake left in the box. 'I Love You' is written in tiny light blue frosting letters. "I uhm, uhh." That brought your attention to Bucky, as embarrassment pulsed as strong as ever through your veins. " You don't have to say anything Buck, It's fine, I'll see you next week, on monday" you hand him the box as you go to pass him "I think you would have a better use for this than me I ate 11 others already so."

Divider credits: @firefly-graphics

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 24

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: i took three weeks to post, i am very sorry but i’ll now be posting the holiday chapters i was supposed to but i got lost in eating mince pies. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

   - Bucky, what are you doing? - Y/N smirked as she returned from set, still dressed in a scandalous dress covered by a beige rain coat. Small droplets of water covered the beige waterproof fabric which rolled onto the ground as she made her way further into the small flat. 

Bucky was sat in bed, looking at a pile of clothing thrown next to an open old military green rucksack by his feet. A few worn out brown leathered tags we attached to one of the handles and had she been wearing her glasses, she could’ve probably guessed what it was written on them. The brown haired man rose his head at the mention of his name, eyes widening at what she was wearing. He was used to seeing her in tight, revealing dresses but this dress was something else and he wondered how she could walk with such a skin tight garment. 

    - I’m just deciding what to pack. - he shrugged, trying to forget about the dress his girlfriend was wearing. 

   - Just pack warm. - she sat next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder, an immediate smile extending in her limps. - Mum said it might snow. Can you imagine, a white Christmas?

   - Did they give you a bad time on set?

A bad time? A bad time was an understatement. She had gotten an earful from everyone who passed by her that day from her manager to her personal assistant to even Mr. Hayworth who just screamed about how stupid she was. Even half the cast was upset, not enjoying the publicity it would bring to the movie and while she would normally end up crying in her trailer, Chuck ensured to follow her around to make sure she was alright. Yet, none of it matter. It was the last day of shooting before she got to go home to her parents and forget about the mess she had willingly created. It was only a day before she could spend the holidays with someone who chose her and kept choosing her for the first time. It really didn’t matter if she had a bad time, things were starting to look up for her. 

    - Other than the stripper dress? Not as bad. - she giggled. Bucky looked at her, trying to peak through the coat. - I was thinking ... maybe we should have a nice long bath together? I’ll light some candles, get some nice wine from the shop down the street.

    - You little vixen, I still have to go see my sister. If I take a bath with you I will end up staying much more time than I should. - Bucky kissed the side of her face. - Did you wear that dress just to tempt me?

    - I would never. It is not my fault you cannot control yourself. 

    - That dress is staying until I come back, though.

    - I want to come. - she got up from the bed, pulling the dress from her body and grabbing her white jumper and pair of jeans from the wardrobe. - You’re meeting my family, it’s only fair I meet yours.

    - I’ve told you already, princess. We don’t wanna poke the media, they’ll bite us back with no mercy. I don’t want people hurting you because of me.

    - You can’t sneak me into a care home? My, my, Mr. Barnes, I thought you could get anyone into anywhere. Your CV said so.

   - Are you doubting my abilities, princess? - he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closing to him before starting to tickle her sides. - It’ll be boring to you, my princess. Just stay here, put back that tight little dress and I’ll make it worth your time.

   - No way. I’m meeting your sister. 

   - No baby pictures, Y/N. 

   - I would never. - she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hard felt yet soft kiss. - Only childhood stories. 

Bucky rolled his eyes, handing her the jacket and hat as they made their way onto a taxi. Bucky visited his sister a lot but he’d never mentioned Y/N. Not that he didn’t want to, of course he did. In all honesty, he could speak about his girl for as long as someone allowed him. However, Y/N was still a public personality and he wouldn’t want to let something out that she wasn’t comfortable with people knowing. Besides, he knew how much his sister still adored to gossip and he wouldn’t want to possibly hurt Y/N or be the cause. 

She, on the other hand, was excited. She knew Steve and Steve was the oldest of Bucky’s friends but she never thought she would get to meet someone from his family or that he’d even want to introduce her to someone from his family. After all, he was a war hero and Y/N was an actress from a small town in London who everyone seemed to despise at the moment.

The man drove them up to small complex building of what seemed to be newly built flats. Bucky was the first one off the taxi, running up to her side so he could open the door. It always left her feeling like a school girl; the pageantry, it is. She never believed she would find someone and the fact someone rushed to go and open the door for her and held his hand out.

    - Anything you’d like to confess before I ask your sister? - Y/N teased, hugging him side eyes as he led her to the entrance.

    - Do not believe what she says, I did not date too many girls.

    - Steve disagrees with that.

    - How would you know what Steve agrees or disagrees with? 

    - I called him to wish him happy holidays.

    - I didn’t know you and Steve were friendly.

    - Don’t be jealous, love. I’m not stealing your best friend. - Y/N pinched his cheek playfully as the two of them stopped in front of a wooden door with the number 35 in gold numbers pinned to it.

Bucky knocked on the door, announcing himself before holding Y/N once again close to him. He went through his mind, wondering if there was anything Rebecca could tell which would upset her. Sure, he used to be a bit of a womaniser in his youth but Y/N knew that. He hadn’t gotten anyone pregnant, he hadn’t proposed and ran off, he was off the hook. Still, he didn’t like the idea of Becca telling Y/N about his past quests.

Y/N waited patiently until someone held the door. The first thing she noticed were her eyes, the same as Bucky’s and she could recognise them anywhere. The woman had perfectly styled grey hair and a smile on her lips as she recognised her brother.

    - Who is this lovely girl, Buck? You didn’t tell me you’d bring company, I would’ve gotten some biscuits. 

   - This is Y/N, she’s my girlfriend. 

   - Steve told me you were seeing someone, I just didn’t think she’d be this pretty. Come in, come in. - Becca grabbed Y/N away from Bucky leading her to the living room. - What you wanted is in the bedroom, Buck.

   - Behave. - Bucky told his sister before he went into the bedroom to look for what he had come in from. 

   - I have some photos I think you’d love to see, darlin’. - she pointed the couch for Y/N to sit in before waddling to the big mahogany bookcase. She had a huge collection of books from old classics to new contemporary masterpieces which Y/N would love to read someday. The house itself was cozy, way more comfortable than other care homes she’d seen but she guessed Bucky would’ve only allowed for the best for his little sister. - It’s been ages since I’ve seen one of Bucky’s girlfriends. Not that he used to bring them home, but I used to sneak in and take a peak. You’re definitely the prettiest of all of them. 

   - Thank you. - Y/N couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heat up.

   - Ah, there it is. - she dropped a photo album on Y/N’s lap. - My father gave my mother a photo camera and she went crazy with it. Too many photos. However, when Bucky was born, it was a special occasion. Dad used to say she wanted a professional photo taken with her Jamie. 

She pointed at a photo of an woman probably in her early 20s holding a baby wrapped in several blankets, accompanied by a man who Bucky resembled very much. Her fingers traced the face of the baby, a little smile forming on her lips. It was nice to see him like that, normal. No mentions of the Winter Soldier, no pain, none of her constant drama due to her profession.

   - He was the eldest of four and despite what my mother would say, he was always the favourite. The only boy. He got away with whatever he wanted.

   - Bucky has three siblings?

   - Three sisters. Some of them didn’t survive. It was war. - her voice softened with sadness as she turned the page for a photo that Y/N wasn’t expecting to see. The same woman from before, his mother, was hugging a shirtless Bucky who had some boxing gloves on. Her face contorted into curiosity as Bucky exited the room and leaned against the couch, standing next to the two women.

  - What are you two ladies looking at? - Bucky kissed Y/N’s head, putting his hand on her shoulder. 

  - I think Y/N is very curious about your welterweight boxing past.

  - You did boxing?

  - Princess, I was a three-time YMCA Welterweight boxing champion. - Bucky closed the album before any of the photos of him with some of the ladies he used to hang around with showed up. - Becca, we should get going. We have an early flight tomorrow. 

  - You need to bring her more often. - Rebecca got up from the couch to accompany them to the door. - Did you find what you were looking for?

  - Yes, Beccs. Thank you so much for keeping it all these years.

  - Pretty sure mum would come back to haunt me if I hadn’t. Have fun meeting the parents. - she kissed Bucky’s cheek allowing for the two of them to leave. Bucky immediately wrapped his chunky knitted scarf, something his grandma had knitted for him ages ago, around Y/N’s neck, pulling her to his side.

He couldn’t truly remember a time where he was this happy, so full of need to continue living. She really brought him to this sort of weird normality where his past didn’t seem to affect him or at least not as strongly as it usually did. The two walked into grey skies, it was probably going to rain but none of them cared, walking side by side like those couples on Christmas songs. 

   - A boxing champion? 

   - Knock it off, princess. - Bucky helped her into the taxi, telling the driver his address before fastening his seat belt. - It was a long time ago.

   - Do you miss her? - she questioned, leaning her head against his shoulder, watching the horizons run through in blurs. - Your mother. Rebecca said you were the favourite.

   - Rebecca is always saying that. - he scoffed. - I do miss her. She was a swell lady, always caring about us, not complaining whenever she had to travel around because of my father. She was the best mother someone could’ve asked for. She would’ve liked you.

   - You think so?

   - I know so. Dad would’ve liked you too so would aunt Ida. Of course there’s still my nephews and nieces and their kids, but they don’t really want to speak with me ... - she didn’t need to ask why, she could see it in his eyes why and it made her sad. It made her sad to think of his family not wanting to be with him, specially during the holidays. - But I’ve had Rebecca and Steve for all these years. They’re my family and now I have you.

    - Well, I can’t promise my family will like you but they’ll definitely found the fact I have a boyfriend amusing. 

   - You mean to tell me I don’t have any ex boyfriends I’ll have to fight once we get to London?

   - That’s just unfair, Bucky. You’re a three-time boxing champion. 

   - You’ll never let that one go will you?

   - Nope. Dating a three-time boxing champion is a new identity I can get used to. 

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir​

[hargrove-mayfields]

A Password And A Promise

💕 Happy Valentine's Day!!! You guys are all my Valentines, thank you, thank you, thank you so much for all the positive reception! 💕

It’s day five of the week of love and today’s prompt that I chose was Snuggling for Warmth!! Read here or on ao3 at ej_writer !

Word Count: 3,649

Rating: T

First winter in the Midwest, and Billy’s been out in the snow for hours on end.

He’d like to say that he has no idea why he’s doing this, but he does. Chief Hopper asked him to.

As if his record wasn’t already bad enough, with the fights and the vandalism and all the other bad things he’d done since his arrival in Hawkins, he just had to go and get himself a DUI charge.

He’d been speeding off to some middle schoolers house, schnockered after a party to pick his sister up when he got pulled over. He’d begged the chief to let him off easy, promised he’d never pick up another bottle if it meant that the DUI didn’t make it on file.

And the chief, he understood that. He’d been the one to ask Billy a few questions when he was admitted to the hospital in mid-November and a nurse, recognizing the signs of abuse, asked him to come check it out. Despite Billy’s best efforts, the Hopper’d wormed it out of him that his father had been the one to land him there.

So when he made his plea, it didn’t take much convincing to get him to help him out.

Still, he couldn’t justifiably let Billy walk away unpunished for driving drunk, especially being that, with the new legislation Indiana was rolling out, he was now way under the age limit. To compromise, he opted to make him do community service instead.

Had Billy known how that would turn out for him, he might’ve rather just taken the beating for the DUI than doing three hours of shoveling sidewalks. A kick to the ribs or a punch to the jaw probably would’ve hurt less than the ache in his bones, feeling more and more like they were made out of heavy lead, or the sting of the cold air on his fingers and on his face.

For as many years as he had lived in California, he’d never seen snow stick to the ground for more than a few minutes, if at all, and he’d definitely never had to wear more than a jacket to protect himself from cold weather.

Now, having underestimated just how cold snow could actually get, he was freezing his ass off. He didn’t even have a stupid pair of gloves or anything, mouthing but a layer of thin denim to protect him from the record low temperatures.

Just because the universe hated him, the beating down snow wouldn’t slow down either. Not only were his clothes getting soaked completely through, his jacket a sopping mess and his boots more like rain barrels than shoes, but basically every time he cleared a sidewalk off, it'd be covered again before he reached the end.

Under all that snow, it was icy as all hell too, getting more so by the minute. Biker boots weren’t designed to walk on ice, and apparently nobody around these parts was decent enough to even sprinkle out a little ice melt before a storm, so more than a few times, he’d hit an icy patch and wipe the hell out. Thanks to a combination of the sun going down so early and the bitter freezing temperatures, there was nobody around to watch his feet go out from under him, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch.

He was worn down the bone by the time he finally reached Loch Nora, the first place where he could catch a damn break. Everyone up in that little neighborhood was rich enough to pay their lawn boys to scrape and salt the sidewalks for them, and didn't need some scraggly teenager avoiding a criminal record to do it for them.

Without doing any work it got even colder, and he was pretty sure he was going to get hypothermia and keel over in some hoity-toity’s lawn. His hair was frozen, his lungs burned from the cold air leaving him unable to catch his breath, and his teeth were chattering. He thought that shit only happened in the cartoons.

Billy's starting to realize that when Hopper had told him five hours, he probably hadn’t meant all at once. But nobody told him that the weather could be like this, he thought he would just be able to get it all out of the way now, when he could be certain there even was snow to shovel and no Boy Scouts giving him a run for his money.

Too bad he’d probably freeze to death before he finished.

But before that can happen, he’s intercepted by the double doors at 8253 swinging open, nearly jumping out of his skin when the wind catches it and hits it off the side of the house.

Were it literally anybody else shouting to him from their stoop, he’d have just kept walking. But the boy who lived in the mansion at 8253 was none other than Steve Harrington, who called out to him over the wind, “Billy? What the shit are you doin’ out here, man?”

Steve Harrington, who had apologized first for Billy kicking his ass, and started hanging out with him before the scars even healed. He apparently had the superpower to make friends with absolutely anybody, even difficult bullies who made every effort to keep him from doing exactly that.

Don’t get him wrong, being buddy-buddy with Steve Harrington was definitely something he was interested in, but he wasn’t a fan of the way he pretended absolutely nothing was wrong after they fought. He’d concussed him, had to be drugged before he’d stop beating him, and Steve still was the first to reach out.

There had to be some sort of a catch to that kindness, and Billy just wasn’t looking to get too attached.

And yet, Billy stopped for him, when he called out, so maybe it wouldn’t have been entirely truthful to say that he was particularly bothered by Steve’s persistence. If you pressed him hard enough, he might even admit he thought it was kind of endearing.

“Just doing my civic duty, Harrington.” He could kick himself for how weak his voice sounds.

“It’s below zero, Billy. Why don’t you come in?” There’s something like concern in the way he says it, and it makes Billy want to walk away.

“I’ll pass.”

But Steve’s not having it, puts a hand on his hip. “I think the fuck you won’t. Get in here man.”

Billy might be stubborn, but Steve won’t take no for an answer. He knows when he’s lost, so he shoves the handle of the snow shovel towards Steve, who rolls his eyes and takes it, leaves it lean beside the door, and shoulders past Steve into his mansion, instantly feeling like he was melting in the dry warmth that radiated from the house.

Steve shuts the door behind them and hangs his scarf on a coat rack by the door. His boots and coat follow, and he makes Billy do the same. They both grimace at the puddle of water that spills out of Billy’s boot when it tips over.

“Jesus dude, how long were you out there?”

Billy shrugs, winces at the movement of sore shoulders, and lies. He wouldn’t want Steve to make a fuss if he knew. “Dunno. Lost track of the time.”

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Steve plods up carpeted steps, leaving Billy to stand awkwardly on the door mat so he doesn’t drip all over the hardwood floors.

He takes the moment alone to take in his surroundings.

The Harringtons were more than well off, everybody knew that, but being inside of their house, their goddamned mansion, is nothing like Billy expected.

Just from where he’s standing at the door, he can see a living room furnished with big plush couches and a TV in an entertainment center the size of the whole wall. Across from it is the entrance to a dining room with more chairs than a family of three needed at a long table, chandelier overhead.

There were potted plants in every corner and paintings and family photos hung on every wall. Knick-knacks, probably all ordered from some magazine like his own step mom would day dream about shopping from, adorned every last unaided surface, from the huge console record player to every side table and wall shelf.

The longer he looked though, the more Billy noticed all the little things, like cobwebs in the high corners, and dust built up on the wax fruit, the 1979 time stamp on the most recent of their family photos. It wasn’t hard to piece together that this place was just a set.

Suddenly the obnoxiously high ceilings and the fancy decorations felt a lot less like grandeur, and a lot more suffocating. Billy felt bad knowing Steve was here all the time by himself, the sole pretender playing this part of the perfect family.

But then he’s brought out of his reflections by Steve hurrying back down the steps with a neatly folded stack of clothes in hand that he’s shoving towards him.

“The hell are these?”

“A change of clothes.” Billy just looks at him, scrunching his nose at the suggestion, and still won’t take them. “Dude you’re soaked to the bone, you’ll never get warm if you don’t get outta those clothes.”

Billy smirks, raises an eyebrow, but he takes the clothes.

Steve, realizing he could’ve worded that a little better blushes, just the faintest dusting of pink on his pale cheeks. “Shut up man. Bathroom’s down the hall to the right.”

Even the Harrington’s bathroom is the pinnacle of wealthy interior design. Not only is the room as big as Billy’s entire living room, but it’s just as overly designed as the rest of the house.

The walls are black and gold, marbled in the most gaudy flaunting of money Billy’d ever seen. A huge clawfoot tub was settled in the counter, framed by beige tile counters. There was a mirror surrounded by lights right above the sink that spanned almost the entire wall. It felt like something straight out of a magazine. Hell, it probably was.

Even the bathroom in this place makes Billy feel out of place, the luxury of it all so much unlike what he was used to.

It’s warm in the bathroom, the shut door and the smaller space collecting keeping the heat in, and it makes his clothes start to feel gross on his skin, way too cold in contrast. He swallows his pride and looks at what Steve gave him to change into.

There’s two shirts, a henley and a drug rug, a pair of fleece pajama pants, and some fuzzy hospital socks with the grips on the bottom.

Before he puts his shirt on, he notices there’s bruises on his shoulders, on his back and his elbows, from the many times the ice had sent his feet out from under him, but honestly, it gives him this strange sense of pride, knowing he put them there himself.

He was more than used to marks on his skin, put there by an angry father and his rage, so it was a welcome change to know he’d just gotten these ones just from being clumsy. He almost didn’t want to cover them up, but another shiver ran up his spine, causing goose pimples to pop up all over his body, and he elected to slip the two shirts Steve had picked for him over his head, just to keep himself from freezing.

Wearing Steve’s clothes makes him look soft in every way that was not like him. Without his usual denim and leather, he just looked like the boring version of himself. No longer the stereotypical image of high school bad boy he tries so hard for, he just plain old Billy.

He likes it. A lot. Stares at himself in that huge mirror for longer than is probably considered normal before deciding he should leave the bathroom.

Back in the living room, there’s a huge glass protected fireplace on the far wall, in front of which Steve’s on his knees currently trying, and failing, to start a fire up in. At home, all Billy had was a dinky plug in fireplace that stank like hot dust, but he knew how to start a fire regardless.

He’d been there when his father burnt all of his mother’s things she’d left behind.

“You need a starter.”

Steve jumps, apparently having not noticed Billy coming into the room. “What, like gas?”

“Jesus Christ, no, not like gas. We're inside, doofus.” He has to laugh at Steve’s incompetence, but he offers his help. “You have any of those bricks?”

“These?” Steve opens a drawer beside the fireplace full of fire starters, and Billy realizes this is just another piece of the set. He’d be the first person to actually use this fireplace in years, if anyone even ever had before him.

“Yeah, those.” He confirms, but Steve just sits there, doesn’t know what to do with it. “Just put it under the wood and light it.”

“Huh.” Steve looks at the fire he made, seemingly a little surprised that it worked, brushes his hands on his pants and turns to Billy. He looks him up and down, taking in how he looked in the change of clothes and grins as he says, “You look cozy.”

Billy, trying to make up for the way his heart starts pounding from the observation, bites back, “And you look like a gracious host who’s going to make me a hot coffee.”

Steve looks like he thinks for a second before he asks, “Would you settle for hot cocoa?”

“I don’t care, long as it’s warm.”

Billy waits until Steve disappears around the corner into the kitchen before he sits down cross legged on the floor in front of the fire place.

The warmth of the fire radiates over him in a way that brings feeling back to his body, is almost soothing.

When he was little, he could remember having bonfires on cool summer nights out back of their first house in California. The lick of the flames against wood, the way the bright tendrils of fire would dance used to be so calming. He’d always fall asleep outside in a canvas lawn chair, and wake up the next morning tucked into his bed.

But the heat is too much, makes his skin itch, burning from the inside out in a way that wasn’t so pleasant.

He remembers his father, drunk off his ass, dragging him out to that same fire pit by his arm, leaving welts on soft skin, forcing him to watch as he burned every memory they had of his mother. Every picture, every possession, every shred of clothing, burnt to ash until there was nothing left but her voice on the other end of a telephone, and even that stopped after a little while.

He doesn’t notice Steve come back from the kitchen, he’s too caught up in the flames, curling up around the wood and leaving burnt destruction in its wake.

Too entranced by the fire warming him up and freezing him over at the same time. The brightness of it leaves black and pink spots on his vision from how intensely he’d been staring.

“I didn’t have any marshmallows so I-” Steve stops talking when he sees Billy, sees that he’s crying, sitting stock still and just, staring into the fire place. “Oh.”

Billy startles from the sound of his voice, blinks too fast, trying to chase away the splotches of light burnt into his eyes. The action forces him to realize there are tears wetting cheeks, which he wipes at a little too aggressive with his sleeve, hoping Steve won’t say anything.

And he doesn’t, he just reaches down and hands him a mug, not letting go until Billy's got both hands on it and he’s sure he won’t drop it. Billy hadn’t noticed himself shaking until he saw the way the cocoa rippled in the red mug.

Steve clears his throat, trying to think of the right thing to say. “You still cold?”

“No shit. I was out there for three hours.” It’s harsh, overcompensating for sure.

Steve nods, but points out his inconsistency. “I thought you lost track of time?”

“My brain thawed out and I remembered.” He mumbles. It makes Steve laughs, and Billy’s heart feels like it could burst.

“Well, I have some extra blankets and stuff, if you’re still cold.” Steve offers, and Billy nods in response, as if to say that that sounded nice without out actually having to admit anything.

But Steve doesn’t make any moves to go get it, just stands there shuffling his feet and looking down into his cocoa. Billy can already tell he’s going to say something that he doesn’t want to hear.

Before Steve can embarrass him, Billy asks impatient, “You gonna go get it or you gonna let me freeze?”

“Right. Yeah.” Steve bends down and sets his mug down on the lip of the fireplace and pads off to some storage closet somewhere in the mansion. Billy rolls his eyes and promptly moves it to the coffee table to keep the ceramic from heating up and burning him when he picked it up next.

Initially, Billy thinks nothing of it when Steve comes back with only one blanket. It seems perfectly reasonable to him that Steve, who had been in this well heated house presumably all day, just isn’t cold.

But when he sits back down he’s close enough that their knees bump where they’re crossed, and he spreads just the one blanket out across the both of them.

Thank god for the fact that there was already a flush on his cheeks from the fire, because Billy definitely would’ve been blushing like a little schoolgirl at that.

They don’t talk about anything, because there’s nothing too talk about. It’s a comfortable silence that settles between them, broken up only by the crackling and popping of the fire.

But after a while with nothing to distract him, to keep him aware that this was Steve’s house, Steve’s Persian rug underneath him, Steve himself sitting next to him, Billy drifts back to smoke filled lungs straining with the effort of screaming for his mom, to the fist in his hair forcing him to watch.

Steve notices in an instant, those blue eyes going dull, his nostrils flaring and his jaw clenching, and the way his nails dig into his palms.

He sets his mug back down on the coffee table behind them, and gets up on his knees. He wraps the blanket they’d been sharing around Billy’s shoulders, and then his arms, linking his fingers together so he’s hugging Billy.

Except the slightest fluttering of his eyelashes, Billy shows no signs of a reaction. Steve takes that as his motivation to keep trying, and puts a hand on the back of his neck, says, “Hey, Billy.”

It makes his breath hitch, coming out in a cut off sigh. Billy asks, a little monotonous, “What’re you doin’?”

“Keeping you warm.”

Billy appreciates him not bringing up what’s obviously happening, but his head’s only partly coming back to him, and all he has the capacity to come up with as a response is, “Oh.”

Steve squeezes him a little tighter, his face pressing against his shoulder, to get him through the rest of it, to bring him back to earth.

It’s a while before he gets anything else from Billy. Long enough that he has to move so he doesn’t kill his knees sitting up on them, and he ends up with them thrown over top of Billy’s, so they can be as close as possible.

Because Billy wasn’t exactly back there anymore, but he wasn’t quite here either. He could hear Steve, feel his arm around his shoulders, his knuckles rubbing absently up his arm, he just couldn’t reach him yet.

When he gets back in his own head, he takes a moment to figure out where he is, and once he’s got it, he hooks his hands under Steve’s thighs, pulls him the rest of the way into his lap.

He doesn’t think about boundaries, about the fact that he should be more cautious, he just leans forward, presses their foreheads together and says, barely above a whisper, “Thank you.”

“Yeah. Anything for you.” Steve’s got a smile on his face, warm and genuine and blissful, and Billy can’t help the one that forms on his to match.

That’s where they stay until morning comes around. Billy just didn’t have the energy to get up and go home so late, and Steve didn’t have the heart to make him.

He got the throw pillows down off the couch, and they went to sleep the way they were, wrapped up in each other by the fire, well after it burns out and the last of the wood is gone.

Billy wakes up stiff from sleeping on the floor, but he couldn’t have been in any place more comfortable than Steve’s arms.

What Steve had done for him was practically unheard of. It was everything he was supposed to do, inviting someone in when they were cold, helping them out when they were feeling bad, but he’d never had that before. Not from anyone.

He’d hold the memory of Steve, holding him by the fire, equal parts concerned about getting him warm and getting him out of his head, in his heart forever.

That’s what he’s thinking about when he falls back asleep with a smile on his face, how this was just the start of making so many more memories to chase out the old.

Maybe Hawkins and it’s shitty winters wouldn’t be so bad, if he could spend them all like this.

[egcdeath]

a blip in the reader-verse

chapter 4: going once, going twice

summary: you meet an interesting character while attending a charity auction.

warnings: soft moments, angsty moments. asshole ransom, soft ransom. you’ve been warned.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader, overarching steve rogers x reader

word count: 3.4k

author’s note: before anyone asks, i don’t really consider this cheating since it’s just steve in a different universe. but i’d skip this chapter if it won’t sit right with you! 

p.s. i had to google translate some french, please don’t hate me if you speak french and it’s awful🥺

previous chapter / series masterlist

Sounds seemed to be the first thing you noticed as you entered a new universe. This was absolutely no different.

Well, except for the fact that the first sound you noticed was the announcing of your own name.

From the moment your eyes opened, you were met with a blinding yellow light, and the urge to stand up. You glanced over at the table that you’d previously been sat at, and received raised brows from Aaliyah, who’d been sitting at the white, round table across from you, along with a hand gesture that shoo-ed you away.

You timidly walked up to the small and raised platform of a stage, and stood next to a person who vaguely resembled your old boss from your main universe.

“Alright, ladies and gents! Our final lady of the night, well, not a lady of the night, is the gorgeous Y/N L/N! Starting at $1,000, do we have any takers?”

You looked out into the ocean of round tables, and watched a decently handsome man, with dark hair and a beard raise his paddle, “1,500!” he called out.

The man received a death glare from someone else at his table, and looked up at both the stage and you to raise his own paddle. “2,500,” he responded in a bored tone.

After getting over the extreme ego boost that was being bid over, you let yourself take a good look at the second man who’d offered the cash, and,

Holy shit.

It was Steve, but it definitely wasn’t Steve. 

His hair was slightly darker, he was wearing a cream sweater and long, multicolored scarf that your Steve would never be caught dead in. He held an air of confidence and cockiness that you could see from miles away, and according to his bidding style, he was loaded.

After seeing him, you desperately wanted to find a mirror and find out if your own appearance had changed at all.

“Fine, $4,000,” the bearded man offered, glancing back and forth between you, and this alternate version of Steve.

“$5,000!” A new contestant jeered, this one a rather old man whom you could tell you wanted nothing to do with.

“Old fucking geezer,” the alternate Steve muttered. “$7,000.”

There was a gasp, and a silence throughout the audience. 

“$7,000 for Hugh, going once, going-”

“15,” the bearded man lifted his paddle once again. You glanced over to Aaliyah, whose eyeballs seemed to be bulging out of her head at this. 

“Fuck it, 30,” Hugh sighed.

The bearded man threw his hands up in defeat, and set his paddle all the way down on his table.

“45, final!” The old man called out.

“75,” Hugh glanced around the audience, a rather smug look on his face.

“Oh wow, $75,000 going once, going twice… sold to Mr. Hugh Drysdale! Miss L/N, is there something you’re not telling us about the nature of your date?” The auctioneer passed the microphone to you, and you laughed awkwardly into it.

“Nothing that I know of,” the rest of the crowd seemed to laugh with you at this, but you couldn’t help but feel the growing discomfort in your stomach. 

“Well, I’m sure the folks over at One Mission will be very happy at this sizable donation. Can we get one more cheer for Miss L/N?” You gave a friendly wave before awkwardly stepping off the stage while the people around you clapped.

You’d had a decent idea at this point of what was going on, but you couldn’t quite piece together why this Hugh character had decided to bid so high on someone he’d never even met. You sat back down at your table, and slipped your phone out of your pocket to look at yourself. Yep, same you. 

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Aaliyah asked you, a mixture of confusion and excitement present in her tone.

“Hell if I know,” you sighed, and scratched your neck nervously.

“I mean, I get it, you’re hot. But the price of a luxury vehicle for a date? You’re gonna have to let him finger you at least,” she giggled.

“Shut up,” you groaned at the thought. You were still feeling pretty confused about the fact that the Steve in this universe wasn’t actually Steve at all. You so far, you’d only really met Steves that were well… Steve. 

You internally lamented the situation, until you noticed someone plop down at the open seat at the table, causing you to turn and look at him. 

“This seat taken?” Hugh asked, and you shook your head. “Great, now it is,” he quipped.

“I’ll give you two a moment. I’m gonna go find my own socialite,” Aaliyah bantered, slipping up from her chair and following through on her comment.

“So you must really love those kids you just donated to,” you awkwardly chuckled.

“Oh hell no. Fuck those kids. I just hate losing, and I absolutely was not gonna let those douchebags win,” he looked down at his hands and played with his pinky ring in an extremely bored manner. 

“Oh, okay,” you nodded slowly. This man was a complete 180 to the type of Steve that you were used to. Your Steve was warm and caring, but this man seemed cold and apathetic. Your Steve would gladly lay his life on the line for anyone, and this man didn’t even seem to have the emotional capacity to hold the door for someone else. “So Hugh, what do you plan to do on our date?” You lifted up your glass of champagne and took a little sip.

“Call me Ransom, only the help call me Hugh. We’ll probably just go to Europe or something.”

You nearly spat out your drink at this. In fact, you felt a little carbonation in your nose. Then again, Ransom just spent ¾ of a hundred thousand on a date with you. “Jesus,” you murmured. 

“Think you can head out tomorrow?” 

----

Waking up in the bedroom of the apartment you seemed to share with Aaliyah taught you two things. One, you could apparently sleep in these universes and not wake up elsewhere, and two, the walls of your apartment were far too thin.

You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and noted the time. You had about an hour before you needed to be at the airport. 

You quickly threw a mixture of clothing, a phone charger, a packet of birth control, and some skincare products into a suitcase before heading out to the kitchen to grab a granola bar. You chewed half the bar before hopping into the shower, then tossing on some ugly, but comfortable travelling clothes. 

Maybe you spent a bit too long checking yourself in the mirror that morning with the newfound knowledge that you were now worth at least 75,000 dollars. Frankly, having multiple (attractive) men fight over you was the greatest boost to your pride that you’d ever been given.

Glancing down at your phone after the matter, you realized that you only had a few minutes to order an Uber to pick you up, unless you wanted to be late and miss your flight. 

----

You had your baggage checked, stumbled through TSA, and showed the screenshot of your plane ticket a boatload of times to a multitude of people before you finally reached the lounge, and found Ransom sitting on a sofa with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Why the hell are you dressed like that?” Ransom asked you as you approached, looking up and down at your outfit of a college sweatshirt and loose joggers.

“Because I want to be comfortable, you dick. Do rich people not like being comfortable?” You sat down beside him on the sofa, and slumped into the chair. Who knew travelling throughout the multiverse could be so tiring? “Besides, you have like seven holes in that sweater. I wouldn’t be talking about anyone else’s clothes if I gladly let moths have a four course meal on my things,” you scoffed.

That seemed to shut him up for a bit.

Eventually, your flight number was called, and you, along with the few other first class flyers piled into the plane. 

You sat down next to Ransom in a soft chair that seemed to lower back into some sort of makeshift mattress, and slipped your phone out of your pocket to send your friends a message that you were taking off.

“You excited?” You asked Ransom while he began to slip a pair of Beats onto his head. 

“Yeah, I like Nice,” he nodded, then grabbed his own phone to connect to the headphones.

“So you’ve been there before?” Ransom nodded, clearly trying to ignore you. “Do you have a plan on fun places to take me?” He shrugged.

You got the message, and huffed as you sat back in your seat. Right before takeoff, you received a message back from Aaliyah of a picture of her cat, and that was enough to bring a smile to your face. 

—— 

About 7 hours into your flight, you noticed Ransom picking out a movie to watch, and you found the idea intriguing. 

“What’cha watching?” You asked, leaning over a bit into his space. 

“Nothing,” he said stiffly, and you rolled your eyes.

“Porn?” You joked, glancing up at him to see if it landed or not. It did not. 

“You know what? You’re a lot prettier when you’re quiet.”

You slunk back into your seat at this and turned your head away from Ransom. The words really bit at you, considering that it sounded just like your Steve, and if you squinted enough, it looked like him too. But your Steve would never say something like that to you, right?

For a moment, you twisted the watch on your wrist consideringly, wondering if you should go to the next universe, where you might gain a little more respect from your partner. Yet something told you to wait it out. If this was still, in some convoluted way, Steve, he’d come around, right?

That alone gave you enough reason to stay.

---- 

You dragged your suitcase into a hotel room much too big for just two people after nearly 12 hours of an extremely awkward flight, and even more awkward cab ride to the hotel. 

After plopping your things down into the bigger bedroom of the hotel, you stretched rather dramatically in hopes of waking up some of the stiff muscles in your body. In the midst of this, Ransom came up behind you, and set a hand on your back, scaring the life out of you. 

“What the hell, Ransom! A knock or a ‘hello’ will do it next time!”

You turned to look at him, and became a bit flustered at his shirtless, short-clad figure. It was silly, because you’d seen Steve naked a million times before, and this was simply Steve in another universe. 

“You coming to the spa with me?” He smirked as you blatantly checked him out. “Okay, yeah. You’re coming with me. I’ll meet you at the front door.”

You spent around an hour at the spa with Ransom, sweating yourself out in the sauna until you were likely majorly dehydrated, soaking in the heated pool until your skin became pruny and wrinkled, and ending the night with a massage that sent you straight to sleep.

Like, deep sleep. When you became even slightly conscious, Ransom was laying you in your pillowy soft bed. As your eyes opened the slightest bit at him, he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Pretending to sleep, how cute,” he muttered sarcastically. You’d argue with him, but you were simply too exhausted to do so. In fact, you were convinced you’d just given him a whole monologue about how travelling makes people tired, but the most that had exited your mouth was a tiny squeak. 

You watched Ransom leave the room, before your head collapsed onto your shoulder, and you fell back into a nice rest.

When you awoke, it was not on your own will.

An overly saturated light attacked your eyes from behind your eyelids, and came all at once, snapping you out of your dreamless slumber. When you glanced over at the harsh source, you noticed none other than Ransom by your window, with a hand on the drape.

“Time to wake up. It’s like, 3 PM, by the way,” he huffed before exiting your room, not even allowing you to reply. 

You groaned in annoyance, having an off handed thought about how jet lag was kicking your ass, before rolling out of bed and trying to find something nice to put on.

By the time you left your room, Ransom was standing by the door, aimlessly scrolling on his phone. “You wanna go for a walk?” 

“Sure, I guess. I’m kinda hungry though, so maybe we can stop somewhere first?” 

Ransom shrugged and gave you what seemed like the hint of a smile, and you hurried to put on your shoes before heading out. 

——

The two of you ended up on the patio of some local restaurant, your eyes skimming the menu while Ransom took sips of his complimentary water. 

What seemed to be out of nowhere, a burly man came rushing over to your table, and appeared to be approaching Ransom, as he turned his head to look at the man, then quickly looked away.

The man, who you could only assume to be the owner, clapped Ransom on the back, and in return, Ransom slumped over in embarrassment. 

You were definitely going to enjoy this.

“Où étiez-vous?, Ranny?” Where have you been?

“Occupé, Henri.” Busy, Henri. Ransom clearly had a dark red blush on his face now, and he glanced at you as if you could offer him some sort of assistance.

“Trop occupé avec la dame?” Too busy with the lady? Henri asked with a smirk.

“No!” 

“Présentez-moi à elle,” Introduce her to me. 

Ransom sighed dramatically, then sat up from hunching, “Y/N, this is Henri. He’s a family friend,” you couldn’t help but notice how pleased Henri seemed, “Henri, this is Y/N, mon rendez-vous,” My date.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Henri extended a hand out to you and you gladly shook it. He turned back to Ransom, and continued grilling him. “Est-ce votre cavalier ou votre petite amie?” Is she your date or your girlfriend?

“Mon rendez-vous!” My date! You don’t think you’d ever seen anyone become this flustered so fast.

“Hey Henri,” you interrupted, feeling a tiny bit left out, “any way that we could order first, then you could come back here and tell me all the embarrassing stories about Ransom you can remember?”

“That sounds fun to me,” he shrugged.

——

During lunch, you’d learned more about Ransom than you ever knew you needed to know. In the midst of it all, you couldn’t help but to think about how different he was compared to your Steve. His parents were extremely wealthy (no surprise there), he went to boarding school in Nice (which explained his ability to speak French), and Ransom was a bit of an art nerd (perhaps some characteristics could transcend universes).

Surprisingly, he was starting to grow on you. Which was why you were far from opposed to his suggestion of going sight-seeing around the town. 

The first stop you took wasn’t too far from the restaurant. A quaint little gift store with tiny knicknacks lining the shelves, and a relentless, old, orange cat who did not seem to want to leave Ransom alone.

“You should pet her, Ran,” you suggested, leaning down to do so yourself.

“First of all, don’t call me that. Second of all, if you pet her once, it’ll literally never stop,” He glanced over at you from where he was standing at a set of tourist-oriented keychains.

“Are you speaking from firsthand experience?” You grinned down at the cat who was now aggressively rubbing its head against your hand.

“Yes. Luis may seem nice, but one second you’re petting his head, and the next, you’re carrying him around the store, the whole time he’s whispering in your ear for you to buy more things.”

You were a bit taken aback at this, for a second concerned that the man you’d impulsively travelled to Europe with had a few screws loose, since he was apparently hearing local cats speak to him. That’s of course, when Ransom broke into laughter. It took you a second before you laughed a bit too.

“That was so weird, man. Don’t do that again,” you lightly punched his shoulder, then went to pick up Luis who was more than happy to be transported around like an infant. 

After buying a nice mug and a postcard to give to Aaliyah once you returned home, and parting with Luis who seemed to feel a bit, you suggested hopping in a cab to visit one of the many art museums Nice had to offer. 

After a bit of bickering in the backseat, the two of you compromised on the Modern and Contemporary Art museum, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit excited.

Around two hours post-arrival at the museum, you realized that, maybe modern art wasn’t exactly your thing. But it certainly was Ransom’s. He rambled on and on about different pieces that seemed completely mundane to you. Who knew that someone could talk for nearly half of an hour about a canvas painted completely one color?

You noted a shift in Ransom’s attitude towards you. It was clear that you were willing to put up with his little antics, and as the day went on, he began to let down more and more of the tough guy persona he’d had up for so long. To your Steve, at least, art was something that made him feel a bit vulnerable, and you figured that Ransom held the same sentiment. This thought made you feel vaguely homesick, and go in for a half-hug from Ransom, who gladly returned it while he shamelessly effused.

It wasn’t the same, but for you, it was good enough.

----

You very much enjoyed the rest of your day with Ransom, hopping from interesting site to interesting site with him, and sharing a multitude of fond memories that you hoped would stick with you throughout your inter-dimensional travels.

You ended the night with him on the piano bench in the lobby of your hotel. He wordlessly played a Chopin piece while you mindlessly listened. It was a rather relaxing experience, and quite the finale of your day. You had a bit of a nagging feeling that this was the finale of your time in this universe as well.

“Today was really nice,” out of nowhere, Ransom began.

You hummed in agreement, “it was.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have taken you to all my favorite places on day one, but oh well,” he half chuckled to himself, and you pulled back to look up at Ransom.

“You took me to your favorite places? That’s.. Wow. That’s really sweet,” you glanced down at the piano, then back up at Ransom. He gave you a soft smile in return.

This was the moment, right? The silence that followed that was your perfect opportunity to be kissed. Yet, Ransom wasn’t taking it. So you decided to lean forward slightly, and do it yourself. Catching onto what you were getting ready to do, Ransom moved away from you slightly, and shook his head.

“Hey, I don’t really do that,” Ransom looked down at you, and bit the inside of his lip. 

Deep down, you knew that this was just a man who looked like your man rejecting you, but the less rational side of yourself only told you one thing.

Steve was rejecting you.

He was leaving you again, he wouldn’t even kiss you. The thought of it put you somewhere between seeing red, and seeing nothing at all from the tears that were now flooding your vision.

The one thing that had once convinced you to stay, was now begging you to leave. 

You reached down to your watch, and fiddled aggressively with it. Part of you felt bad for leaving a version of yourself to deal with the awkward aftermath of what just occurred, but another part of you just wanted to get the hell away from all of the distressing emotions you were feeling. 

That part of you seemed to be stronger than anything else. You glanced down at your watch, pressed the button on the side that you were told could make you leave, and let nature take its course after feeling the soft vibrations run throughout your arm.

next chapter

[pswaney12]

My singer

Haruta x Reader

Haruta sat in the meeting room alone. His feet were kicked up on the table, head resting against the chair, and his guitar in hand.his eyes were closed while he strummed the strings. The notes he played were the ones for his and his brothers song Dream On. Once he had finished playing the beginning of the song, Haruta started singing along. He was so caught up in the music that he didn’t even notice his adoptive father and brothers open the door. They could see Haruta’s hair growing out at a rapid pace and it was clearly getting curlier, just like how it was before. Haruta smiled when he had finished singing. “I can’t wait to get back home and see (Y/n), but I can’t help but wonder if everyone here will remember me.” Haruta said. “Haruta, what do you mean?” Pop’s asked. Haruta turned around alarmed, but before he could even say anything they were all standing outside a record shop. Before the others even knew what happened Haruta was already walking in the record shop. “Can I use your phone?” He asked. “Of course Mr. Tyler.” The worker replied. Haruta walked in the break room and dialed his brothers number.

The moment the line connected he smiled. “Hi Steve!” Haruta said. “Haruta!” Steve smiled. Haruta could hear his band mates shouting hellos. “I’m gonna need you guys to pick me up. I also have a few buddies that I didn’t expect would follow me back here.” Haruta sighed. “Oh no. Guess they’ll be here for 2 months before they go back.” Steve sighed. “But Anyways we’ll be there soon see ya bro.” Steve smiled. “See ya.” Haruta replied. Haruta had stepped out of the break room and walked over to the counter. “(Y/n) and Jon release any new albums?” “Yeah actually they released one called Slippery when wet, and (Y/n) worked with a newer band on their first album.” “Oh really, what’s the band called?” “Get this. Cinderella. They actually aren’t bad at all.” Haruta smiled hearing that. “Get me both albums on vinyl and cassette. Please.” Haruta said. The worker smiled and went to go get Haruta what he asked for. When he returned he put the album in a bag along with some magazines. “Those should get you caught up on what has happened in the past two months.” The worker said. Haruta paid for everything and when he walked out he saw his adoptive brothers and father watching one of the TVs. When Haruta got closer to the group he noticed they were shorter and were now at a normal height while he still stood at 6ft 3. Haruta walked over to the group and said. “My brother should be here soon follow me.” They stepped up to the curb waiting. The calm atmosphere was broke when someone shouted “is that Haruta Tyler of Aerosmith?!” Crowds started gathering around the group, but before it could have gotten to out of hand a black limo pulled up. Steve stepped out and hugged his brother. The rest of the band followed. Everyone greeted each other and Haruta’s crew mates watched the interaction. The moment the paparazzi started showing up everyone was pushed in the limo. “We’ve got a concert tonight Haruta.” Joe said. “Can’t wait! It’s been forever since I’ve been out on the stage.” Haruta hummed. “Only two months!” Steve laugh. “Haruta can you explain everything to us?” Izo asked. “Yea I should probably do that.” Haruta said. The entire ride Haruta explained everything to his crew mates but the moment he saw our tour bus and Cinderella’s he stopped speaking. “They’ve really blown up haven’t they?” Haruta asked. “Yeah. Both bands will be playing with us tonight.” Tom said.

“I can’t wait.” Haruta smiled. The rest of the limo ride was spent catching up. The moment Haruta stepped out of the limo a figure hugged him. He looked down to see me. I had tears in my eyes and I was hugging his tightly. Haruta’s arms snaked around my waist and he buried his face in my hair. “I missed you so much!” I whispered. “I missed you too.” Haruta hummed. Our interaction was cut short by my brother and band mates. I walked off while Haruta was talking to Jon and Richie, only to return with four people he had never seen before. “Haruta this is Tom Keifer, Eric Brittingham, Jeff LaBar, and Fred Coury. They are the members of Cinderella.” “Nice to meet you!” Haruta said shaking their hands. “We should go get our sound checks done before fans start arriving.” Jon said. We all nodded and made our way inside the stadium. After the sound checks we got dressed in our stage outfits. The commanders and Pops watched Haruta take off his scarf and tie it around his mic. It was replaced with a white leather choker. He had on a black and white striped suit top and black leather pants, the black stripes were bigger than the white ones. Steve’s suit was the opposite. Their outfits were the same but the colors were swapped. The only difference was that Haruta had chains around his wrists. It was the same for Jon and I. Jon had on a blue top with a white scarf, and red and black leather pants and cowboy boots. My outfits was the same. Yet again the only difference beside the color swap was that I also had chains around my wrists. When Izo looked at us and saw all the leather, spandex, and wild hair he looked slightly mortified.

“What are you wearing!” He said. Our heads all snapped in his direction and we all simply said “stage clothes.” We all saw fans start to walk in and we scurried off stage. While the fans were filing in we all grabbed a shot glass and I poured some vodka in each of them. I set the bottle down and we all smiled at each other. “To a good concert.” I smiled. “To a good concert!” They all repeated. We all clicked our glasses together before taking the shot.

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

But it’s snowing

Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Summary: Because the Tower can’t stay unsupervised during Christmas you are forced to stay and miss the family reunion. Byt not everything so bad after all.

Warnings: A bit (really just tiny bit) of angst, fluff.

A/N: And here comes my last (I hope) late challenge. This one is for one and only @justkending​. Congratulations on your milestone! <3 You deserved that!

You loved winter. You remember always playing with your parents and brothers whenever it started to snow. You were all wearing tons of sweaters, the warmest gloves and spent hours outside, tossing snow at each other or making snowmen. After hours, when you were literally shaking out of cold, you would come back to the warm house met with your mom waiting for all of yous with hot chocolate and some cookies.  

You just finished talking to your parents, apologising them for not coming for Christmas this year. Well… not like bad guys decided to behave, only because you’d like to eat some of that delicious turkey your dad always made. 

You sighed and leaned down, shoving your head in your arms, with the solemn idea of all the food you will miss. You loved your job to bits. Catching the bad guys alongside some superhero handsome faces (and beautiful ones as well) was one of the coolest jobs. But at moments like that, you hated your job. You haven’t seen your family for a whole year and you were looking forward to this year’s holidays. You bought all the presents, which were now sitting in the corner of your room, laughing at you. 

“You’re ok?” You looked up to meet the concerned look on your Captains face. You frowned and pouted and turned around, your back to him. You knew you were being childish, but he deserved it. He was the one who made you stay here in the Tower, while everyone else except the holy trinity of menace - him, Sam and Bucky - and you stayed in the damn Tower. 

“We’re gonna need you. Not even Bucky can shoot like you.” You should feel proud when he said that, but all you felt was disappointment for not being able to spend that time with your family. 

“Come one, sweetheart, is this how its gonna be now?” He finally asked, walking into your room and closing the doors. Something you should have done before. You still kept your back to him and huffed, to underline how mad you are at him. “You know if I could I wouldn’t keep you. But you know the rules... We work in four people teams and you work perfectly with us… If someone attacks the Tower we will be able to work perfectly together…” You could hear the pain and sorry in his voice and you were so close to turn around and tell him it was ok. But no… You will be strong! “We were thinking…” 

“Oh no…” You mumbled, making him chuckle. It was never good when the three of them were making a plan. It was even worse when they all agreed on something. Bucky and Sam agreeing was not a good sign. Hell no. “Should I be scared?” He smiled, happy for you to finally talk to him. 

“We know how much you love Christmas and how much you hate it that you can’t spend it with your family…”

“I wonder whose fault that is!” He sighed and bit his lip, trying not to roll his eyes. He hated when you were acting like a kid. You were definitely spending too much time with Tony and Clint. 

“How about we make our special little Christmas?” You turned around, definitely surprised to hear that. “We have already ordered food, so if you agree we can start the preparations tomorrow… I mean if you don’t want to, we…” But he didn’t finish when you jumped and hugged him, smiling like a little girl. It didn’t take Steve long to circle his arm around your waist, pulling you to him. Those parts were his favourite in this friendship between the two of you. You gave the best hugs. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Only if you help me sending those gifts to my family.” He smiled and nodded, happy to see you smile again. 

**

“I think I know how to stir a damn sauce, Wilson!” Bucky growled, already annoyed with Sam’s complaining. 

“Well, apparently no… If you stir too fast…”

“Sam, Bucky…” You exhaled, giving them the most disappointed look. “I put you two on different things, for this not to happen. Bucky, you’re doing great. Sam stop being a whiny bitch!” You grinned at him when he sends you one of his evil looks. 

“I’m not sure that’s a language suitable for a lady”, Steve whispered at you, helping you to shove vegetables into turkey’s ass. 

“Well, good thing I ain’t a lady then, Rogers”, you winked at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ok, close him up and he’s ready for tomorrow!” You exclaimed happily, taking a bite of the carrot from what was left of the turkey’s filling. “We have mashed potatoes, turkey, two extra types of meat, three sauces, a lovely apple pie made by one and only Sam Wilson”, he bowed making you laugh. “Oh and salmon as well.” You jumped excitedly. 

Steve couldn’t help but smile warmly at your behaviour. On the field or the training mat you were forceful, merciless, the best sniper he met, and he worked with Bucky a lot. You didn’t blink twice to kill whoever would frighten your friends. And here you were. Acting like a complete kid. It has always been like that. When the mission finished you changed completely. You were this happy talkative, charming and flirting, beautiful woman. Yes. Flirting. He tried not to. But he noticed how your little flirting was a bit more than little with him. Started from talks, smiles and looks, and ended up in touches. He would lie to himself if he said he didn’t like it. He did. Very much indeed. 

“Stevie?” Oh, this little nickname you gave him. It was always filled with love. Softness and something he never heard from anyone else before. Oh, how he loved hearing it from you. “Are you back?”

“Back?” He frowned, just now realising that everyone except you and him left the kitchen. 

“You went somewhere. In your head, sweety. I called you a couple of times,” You chuckled seeing his confused look. “Never mind. I’m off to bed. We have a long day tomorrow,” you smiled at him and leaned in to give him a kiss on his cheek. “Have a good night, Captain.” You winked knowing quite well what this does to him. You caught him ones inhaling deeply when you called him like that after the mission, and you never forgot about it. 

“Goodnight doll.” He sighed, shaking his head in disbelieving. Oh, he was screwed. Very screwed. 

**

There were not many times Steve Grant Rogers was surprised and unable to react quickly enough. There was really not many things that would be able to surprise him. But a woman's body, throwing herself into his bed, jumping like a 5 years old child at 4:35 in the morning was one of those things. 

“Jesus, doll!” He grumbled when you tried to wake him up by calling his name and pushing his shoulder. “What happened?” He asked lazily, realizing that nothing bad happened, by the big smile on your lips. “Let me sleep.”

“It’s snowing, Stevie!” He growled and turned towards you in a complete shock. 

“You woke me up. On my day off at 4:35 to tell me it’s snowing? Thanks, doll, you can go back to bed. This is what I’m gonna do!” He was about to turn around and close his eyes once again when you caught his hand and started to pull him from the bed. 

“But it’s snowing!” You exclaimed visibly annoyed he does not understand. “First snow of the year. Come on!” He took a deep breath and stopped in the middle of the room, making you halt as well. After all, he was a super soldier, way stronger than you would ever be. 

“Doll! Just stop for a second and think how stupid this whole situation is…” You looked up at him and he sighed. You were biting your lip nervously. After a while, your gaze landed on the floor and he could no longer feel your warm touch on his wrist. “I hope you didn’t wake no one else…” He yawned and smiled softly at her. 

“I’m sorry.” He frowned hearing your broken voice. “I… I really love snow and I wanted to enjoy the first flakes with you... “ His eyes widened at your confession. And he was sure his heart skipped a beat or two. “I… I’m sorry. “ You smiled at him, but he was sure it wasn’t real. Before he was able to react you left the room, closing the doors at his face. 

And then it hit him. The memory. From one of the days, you were happily talking to him about your family traditions. 

“Watching the first snow together started when I joined SHIELD and didn’t have that much time to spend with my family.” You started cheerfully, smiling at the solemn idea of those times with the people you loved so much. “So we decided that no matter what, no matter where we are, or what we do, we would call each other and look at the snow.” You chuckled. “It’s really personal you know? Snow is something I love deeply and I think that’s why it's so special for me. If I ask someone to join me, this would probably be my kind of confession.” You laughed out loud. “It’s stupid right?”

“Fuck!” He cursed under his voice. Quickly putting some clothes on, a coat, hat, some gloves and a scarf he ran to one place he was sure to find you. The roof. He was such an idiot. How could he screw this up? 

“It’s beautiful, right?” he stopped hearing your voice. There you were sitting on the edge of the room, looking at the city. He frowned hearing other voices. It was then he noticed a phone in your hand. “It’s fine. The guys are amazing you know? We are making Christmas dinner tomorrow.” 

“Oh, that’s adorable, sweety.” Your mother, what he assumed spoke. She had the same soft voice as you did. He could feel the longing for his only girl and he immediately felt bad for making you stay here. “How about Captain Rogers? I thought you’d ask him to join you for the show.” He froze and swallowed. Was he hearing right? Were you planning on asking him to join you for a while? 

“It’s fine… Am… He couldn’t.” You lied, not wanting to go into any details. “He’s…”

“A complete idiot!” You jumped hearing a voice behind you, almost dropping the phone. “A complete, utter moron!”

“Is this Captain America?” a what seemed to be a teenage voice called out. “Can I talk to him, sis?” 

“I’ll call you all back.” And not waiting for an answer you ended the phone, staring at the man in front of you. “What… What are you doing here?” 

“It's snowing.” He smiled, walking towards you. “I’m such a blockhead!” He chuckled and cupped your cheeks with his gloved hands.” You leaned into his touch, so happy to have him here. “I’m sorry, doll!” You shook your head and hugged him, burying your head in his coat. 

“I’m happy you came…” You whispered and not thinking about anything you leaned in and kissed him softly. “Look, Stevie, it’s snowing!” He chuckled, and kissed you back, thanking whatever gods there were, that you chose him to show the first snow.  

[grogunotfound]

Econ 101

PART THREE OF THE DILEMMA SERIES

Word Count: 1.0K

A/N: enjoy!!

---

You laughed hysterically at the terrible joke Steve just told you. He had his awkwardness, but his kind, charming aspects made up for it.

"I told you! I'm not a comedian." Steve joined in your laughter before settling in his seat.

"Clearly... So, Steve, why are you in my art history class? I thought it was mainly for undergraduates." You questioned him before taking a sip of the hot chocolate he bought you. He claimed it was his way of saying thanks for saving him a seat in class.

He took a sip of the tea he bought for himself before answering, "Well, it's kind of a funny story. But, basically, I am really into art. I enjoy all the different styles of art and artists and how they varied by country and time period... So, I had enough free time in my schedule. Why not take an art history class?"

"Oh, wow, that's great!" You checked your watch. "Oh, no. I should probably start heading out. My next class starts in a couple of minutes."

"Oh, which class?" Steve asked.

"Economics 101 with Professor Lamina," you told him and began packing your stuff.

"Lamina in Schoening Hall? I love him! I wanted to be a TA for his class, but the position was already filled. I can walk you if you'd like." Steve smiled.

"I would love that," you smiled back. With that, the two of you began to walk across campus to your next lecture hall.

⁂⁂⁂

"Well, thanks for the walk and the hot chocolate. See you next class?" You nervously clutched the art history textbooks in your hands.

"For sure. Save me a seat again next time?" Steve gave a hearty chuckle before saluting you and walking away.

You laughed along before walking into the auditorium. It was slightly packed with students already, considering the class started in 10 or so minutes. You observed the room for any empty seats and found one towards the front.

There was another person nearby, but he was sitting in a chair close to the professor's desk. You assumed it was Professor Lamina. This man was wearing a long coat with a floral scarf wrapped around his neck, along with tattered, brown, leather Gucci loafers. He had sunglasses on, so you couldn't really tell what he looked like. But, he had brown hair and a stern facial expression.

You didn't realize how long you were staring at him until he seemed to sense your gaze and look up at you. He took off his sunglasses, revealing his piercing blue eyes. You let out a little gasp, quickly ducking your head as you made your way to the front row.

You sunk into your seat and waited for him to start class. You heard him scoff before returning to the book at hand. He seemed very familiar, but you couldn't quite place where you've seen him before.

A couple of minutes passed. Students were continuing to chatter and fill up the rest of the lecture hall. Class was going to start soon, so you took out the materials you needed.

"Okay," a booming voice entered the room. You looked up to see the man from earlier standing up. He began to take off his long coat, underneath was a white cable-knit sweater. From faraway, you couldn't tell but his sweater had a couple of holes around the neck. "I'm not Professor Lamina. The name's Ransom Drysdale. I'm the teacher's assistant for this class."

His eyes observed everyone in the room as it fell silent. There was a collective tension when people began to realize who Ransom was.

"Isn't that Harlan Thrombey's grandson?" Someone whispered to their friend beside you.

So that's where I recognized him from... Before you could ponder on Ransom's presence, the actual Professor Lamina walked into the room.

"Ah, I see Ransom has already introduced himself. Hello, everyone. I'm Professor Lamina and welcome to Economics 101! Let's get started with the lesson plans for today. Ransom, could you pass these papers out?" Professor Lamina was a tall, dark-skinned male. He had gorgeous hair and was dressed in a rather casual outfit for a professor. He seemed chill.

Ransom began making his way around the room, handing out stacks of paper at a time to each row. You were sitting at the edge of the first row, so when he got to your side of the room, you grew nervous.

You smiled at him as he counted how many papers to give to you. You looked up hesitantly to meet his eyes, which with he was staring intently at you.

He smirked when you looked away, feeling heat rising to your cheeks.

He's even more good-looking up close... You thought to yourself.

"Here you go, Y/N." His husky voice was like music to your ears. He set the stack of papers in front of you and walked away to go back to his seat.

You thanked him almost inaudibly and passed the papers to the person next to you. You looked up to catch another glimpse of a Ransom and noticed that he was looking too.

You gulped and quickly engaged yourself in the paper Professor Lamina was discussing.

⁂⁂⁂

Your last class was finally over and you could rest for the day. You began packing up yourself and headed for the door. You found yourself stuck in a crowd of people, all trying to leave through a tiny door.

"Excuse me," a familiar voice said from behind you. That same voice belonged to Ransom. He placed his hand gently on your lower back to move past you.

You froze in your spot, prompting other students to lightly jab you forward. You shook what just happened out of your head. Ransom Drysdale was quite the celebrity around here, and you could see why. He was charming, mysterious, and quite handsome.

But, something made you feel uneasy about him. You couldn't exactly pin down what it was, yet the way he would look at you was odd...

[stevesnailbat]

for the first time: part one | steve harrington

summary: A series of events through Steve’s relationship with the love of his life; their first date & kiss, their first ‘I love you’, their first time, and their first fight.

warnings: fluff, smut, and the slightest bit of angst

word count: 4.3K

a/n: Hi everyone! Thanks for giving me feedback on whether I should post this!! I did end up having to split it into two parts because I had too many paragraphs for tumblr, so part 2 can be found HERE :) Enjoy part 1!

She was all things good and pure when she moved to Hawkins in the blustery cold January of 1984. The perfect girl with a perfect family, perfect body, perfect grades. She was everything that every high testosterone teenage boy at Hawkins High wanted. But nobody seemed good enough for her; she knew what she deserved, and that was the best.

It wasn’t until almost a year later, November 1984, when someone finally caught her eye. Steve Harrington piqued her interest when she heard rumors of Nancy breaking his heart. He seemed softer after, like less of a douche. It was like the breakup had knocked his confidence a bit, and that excited her.

A few weeks after the news of their official breakup had spread, Steve noticed a girl that everyone drooled over begin to pay attention to him. She would ask him for a pencil in English, then go out of her way to bring it back to him at his locker. When walking in the hall, she would say hi, or even brush her fingers across his arm gently. He didn’t think much of it all until it was brought to his attention by the basketball team.

“So are you gonna fuck that girl or not?” Tommy asked Steve one day while they showered after practice.

“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about.” Steve said curtly as he stood underneath the scorching water and letting it flow down his face.

“Shut the hell up, pretty boy. Like you haven’t seen the way Y/N Y/L/N looks at you. She’s practically begging for you to take her back to your bedroom,” Billy Hargrove sneers as he turns his shower off, grabbing his towel. “If you don’t fuck her, I will.” Hargrove’s comment made Steve’s blood boil, he despised the way he talked about girls, even though they were falling all over him all the time.

After that day, Steve paid attention to the way she acted around him. It took nearly another two weeks and constant backhanded flirtation from the two of them, but he finally asked her out. She played hard to get at first, always saying that she was busy, but he eventually got her to agree. He took her to dinner at the nice Italian place in town, Enzo’s, then brought her to the outskirts of town. He parked his car near a park, where they laid together, laughing about the stupid things Steve would try to point out in the stars.

“Look! It’s the little clipper.” he said as they laid on the roof of his car.

“I think you mean the little dipper, silly.” she joked in return, rolling over slightly to look at him.

Neither of them said anything after that, their eyes locked and Steve froze. He freaked for a moment, but took his chance when he saw it. His lips pressed against hers perfectly as he pulled her body closer. The kiss was short, but they both felt something real when their lips collided. It was like they had kissed before, the way that they felt so comfortable yet so alive with passion in the moment. That night seemed to be the best night of their lives thus far, and she thought it was the start of the rest of their lives together.

—

Steve tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of his car impatiently after honking his horn for almost a minute, waiting for Dustin to come out of his house. She sat in the passenger seat and laughed, resting her hand on top of his to stop his impulsive and incessant tapping.

“Would you calm down? He’ll be out in a minute.” she says to Steve, who only sighs impatiently in return.

Not even five minutes later, Dustin waltzes out of his house with the biggest grin plastered on his face. He was wearing white sneakers and his best dress clothes, his collared undershirt adorned with a black bow tie. His hair was curly as ever, but the curls were sprayed down and slicked slightly towards the back of his head.

“Looking fancy, Dusty!” Y/N teased as he stepped in, craning her neck to look at him in the back seat.

“You ready to impress some girls?” Steve asks, taking the car out of park.

“The girls aren’t going to be able to get enough of me, they can’t resist these pearls.” Dustin replies, a smirk and purr added to the end of his sentence. The two in the front seat laugh uncomfortably and Steve warns him to not do that at the dance. The car ride was filled with playful banter and some girl advice from Steve to Dustin. He explained how Dustin should ask a girl to dance and how he should talk to her, which made Dustin shake his head and laugh at his serious tone.

“Is that how you got Y/N, or as you called her yesterday, the love of your life?” Dustin questioned after listening to Steve’s advice in the parking lot of the middle school.

Steve’s eyes go wide and and he furrows his brow, trying to act confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” he tries to bring a confused tone to his voice as a small smile and blush play on her face.

“You know exact-“ Dustin starts but is cut off by Steve’s hand covering his mouth.

“I think it’s time for you to go in, yeah? You’ll be late if not.” Steve warns, unlocking the doors to his car.

Dustin grumbles shithead under his breath but obliges, moving towards the door as he says a quiet goodbye. Y/N lets out a giggle when he closes the door, meeting Steve’s nervous gaze with her excited one.

“What’s so funny, Y/N?” Steve questions, his hand resting on her thigh once more as he moves closer to her.

“You should have just told me, Steve.”

“Told you what?”

“That you love me.”

“Dustin is just being an idiot I sw-“ he begins nervously, but is quickly shut up when her lips meet his in a soft kiss.

“Steve. I love you too.” she mumbles against his lips before looking into his eyes once more.

He feels as though a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders and he grins widely. Steve has been wanting to tell her for a little while not. Really, he realized he was already falling for her after their first date. His hand cups her cheek gently as he pulls her in for one more kiss.

“Thank God, because I love you a lot.”

—

Y/N and Steve had been dating for three months now. They both were madly in love with each other, and he wanted to prove his love for her even further. Steve worked for hours to make their night perfect, he knew it was the night he would take her virginity. Her parents were gone for the weekend and he knew that his would be gone for the whole night, so he set up a night in since she could get away with staying over. He picked up her favorite movie, The Outsiders, and made her favorite chicken alfredo pasta. He set up candles at the kitchen table with Chardonnay poured into two wine glasses in front of their filled plates. His room was cleaned, for once, and his bed made as comfortable as possible for the sake of her comfort.

Steve was as ready as he could be when she knocked on his front door. He takes one last look in the mirror as he straightens his sweater around his neck and makes sure the zipper of his khaki pants is up before fluffing his hair one last time. He opened the door to see his beautiful girlfriend smiling up at him, shivering lightly in the blustery cold of an Indiana winter. She had on a tight, maroon wool turtleneck underneath her black winter coat with black high waisted mom jeans and white sneakers. She had on a white, wool hat and her was adorned with a thick gray scarf but he knew that underneath was a necklace that had ‘Steve’ written in small cursive on it; he had gotten it for her last week and she hadn’t taken it off since.

“Hey! Come inside, you look freezing baby.” Steve says warmly before pulling her inside gently, kissing her forehead as he pushes the door closed.

“Something smells good, did you actually cook without burning the house down?” she jokes, removing her scarf from around her neck and coat from her body, placing them on the coat rack near the door.

“Very funny, Y/N. But I made your favorite and rented The Outsiders for us to watch.” Steve says with a grin playing on his lips. “Do you want to eat or watch the movie first?”

“Can we do both?” she asks, a hint of excitement tinges her voice as she speaks.

“You made a mess last time we ate in the living room-“

“I know but I promise I won’t this time!” she practically begs as she cuts him off, “I’ll be careful baby. I just wanna watch the movie.”

She walks close to Steve, standing on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. Her lips form into a pout as she looks up at him with hopeful and begging eyes. He sighs with fake annoyance and pecks her lips quickly before pulling her to the couch to sit down.

“I had a candlelit dinner at the table ready for us, but it’s fine. You’re lucky you’re cute.” he says before walking to the kitchen to grab their plates and drinks.

The movie finishes after they’ve both finished the pot of pasta Steve had made and a whole bottle of wine. She looks up at Steve as the credits begin, her hand tracing his bicep through his sweater lightly. Her expression puzzled Steve; he couldn’t quite figure out what her eyes were trying to tell him. In reality, she wanted the same thing that he did, but was too nervous to convey it in any way.

“Are you tired?” Steve implores quietly, his hand brushing a few stray locks of hair from against her cheek.

She said nothing and shook her head, her eyes focused only on his soft, kissable lips. Her heart seemed to be beating out of her chest almost, she was surprised that Steve couldn’t hear it. Her palms were sweating lightly as she adjusted herself to face him, sitting off to the side of his lap when she kissed him fervently. She had desire building up inside of her from the time he told her about them having the house to themselves for the night; she knew what was going to happen and she was ready.

Steve was her first real love. Sure, she had dated before. But nobody compared to Steve Harrington. He was everything she could have ever wanted in a boyfriend. She had found someone who treated her like she wanted to be treated and someone who would hold her when she was at her best and her worst. The butterflies that she had when she first realized her feelings for him were still there months later, and that was what she had been looking for all along.

Soon after she kissed him, Steve pulled her onto his lap, his hands roaming her body slowly. His fingers danced along her bare stomach gently under her shirt until he reached her breasts, palming one lightly through her bra. A small moan escapes her lips as she presses her lips deeper into his, her tongue running along his teeth as she does. Her legs wrap around his waist to pull herself closer and her hands are tousling his perfectly done-up hair.

About five minutes pass and their shirts are both strewn across the floor, both breathing erratically from excitement. Her hand travels down to Steve’s belt and she begins to unbuckle it. Before she can unbutton his pants, she feels a hand against hers. Steve kisses down her neck gently, sending shivers down her spine.

“We can take this up to my bedroom if you want baby.” he breathes out after pulling away from her neck, looking into her eyes.

She nods slowly, biting her lip nervously as she does. She starts to pull herself off of his lap but he laughs, his hands gripping her waist. Steve stands up with her in his arms and begins up the stairs as she giggles. She pulls her legs to wrap around his waist fully and she continues to kiss all over his neck, jaw and face until they reach his bedroom. When they get into the room, he turns the cassette player on that was in the corner of the room, which had a mixtape that he had picked for the night in it. He lays her down on the bed and hovers above her, holding his body weight up with his elbows as he presses his waist against hers.

“Steve.” she calls out, her voice cracking slightly as she says his name.

“Y/N.” Steve mimicks, a smirk on his lips as he stares down at her.

“I want you. No — fuck. I need you, Steve.” she whimpers out.

Her typically confident and happy tone was replaced with a very innocently nervous one in the moment. Nobody had ever made her stutter and feel as nervous as Steve did, she was vulnerable for him and only him. Steve loved that about her; he was the only one who got to see the real her. She came off as an independent girl who would kick a boy’s ass if she really needed to. In reality, she needed a specific someone around for support. He saw her during her breakdowns about school, during the crying sessions when she was on her period, during the times where she laughed hysterically until she cried about stupid jokes that he would tell her.

The whimper that escaped her lips turned Steve on to no end, he wanted to take her right then and there. But he knew that he needed to build her up to it. She was nearly shaking underneath him as she spoke, trying to hide her fear of pain that would come from the special moment. He nodded and smiled down at her sweetly, pressing a kiss to her lips gently. His hand snakes around her back as she arches it knowingly, springing her bra open with expert skill.

“I want to make you feel good first, because you know this is going to hurt, Y/N.” Steve whispers against her skin as he presses his lips against the skin of one of her breasts, looking up at her for a response.

She only nodded in return, her hand resting in his hair as he continues to kiss along her breast before eventually making it to her nipple. A small gasp leaves her lips as he does and he gets her pants unbuttoned. He somehow gets her jeans far enough down her thighs for her to kick them off the rest of the way, leaving her in only a pair of black lace underwear. Her breath hitches when she feels his hand slide into her underwear, fingers sliding between her folds slowly.

Pure ecstasy overtakes her body as Steve pleasures her, he had made his way down to between her thighs and seemed to be going to town now. His expert tongue was making her feel things that she had never felt before in her life. Although the couple had done things together before this night, he had never done this for her. It was like he had been saving everything good for the night that she had been waiting for so long to experience. Her hips buck slightly every once in a while but Steve presses them down with a rough hand to keep her in place.

Everything becomes too much soon and she feels as though she can’t hold it anymore. As if Steve can tell without her saying a word, he looks up at her and nods slowly, his free hand making its way to her clit as he uses his mouth and fingers as well. She almost immediately hits her climax and lets out a string of loud moans and whimpers, clenching around Steve’s fingers inside of her.

Steve pulls out of her once she finishes and gives her a satisfied smile, pulling himself up to her face once more. He gives her one small kiss before standing up from the bed. Y/N whimpers when she loses contact with Steve’s body, but stays in place. He quickly moves to his dresser and grabs a condom from the box in his top drawer. She watches him carefully as he moves back to the bed, pulling his pants and boxers off of his waist. He straddles her and presses a kiss against her lips before pulling away again.

“I love you, Steve.” she whispers to him, as if to reassure him that she was ready.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Steve says in return after sliding the condom onto his member. He positions himself against her slit and looks up at her momentarily. Her eyes were filled with fear mixed with overpowering passion as she stared down at where their bodies met. Steve grabbed her chin gently to get her attention and she locked eyes with him as he asks her, “You still want this, right?” He wants to take extra care to make sure she won’t regret anything that happens in the next hour. She nods, whispering a small yes and gives him a reassuring smile, her hand cupping his face as she kisses him once.

Steve lets out a nervous breath as he slides into her, pushing his hips down slowly. He stops when he hears her let out a gasp of pain, seeing tears begin to sting her eyes. She digs her nails lightly into Steve’s back as he stays still inside her, letting her get adjusted to the feeling. He whispers sweet words into her ear as he runs his fingers through her hair. After a moment he looks up at her and she nods, wanting him to move again.

He pushes the rest of his length into her and stops once more when she lets out another small cry of pain. His thumbs gently wipe the tears from her cheeks and he kisses her lips once more. She breathes heavily, sweat building up on her chest and brow as they sit there in silence.

“Move...please Steve.” she whimpers out eventually, getting used to the feeling after a while.

Steve nods and pulls out slowly, only to thrust back into her gently as (I Just) Died in Your Arms by Cutting Crew played softly in the background. Eventually the pain that was once tinged with the slightest enjoyment is replaced with only pleasure as Steve begins to quicken his pace. Y/N moans sporadically and Steve realizes that she is enjoying it more than not now, so he continues to speed up slightly. Although he had been with other girls plenty of times before her, Steve felt like he was in a different world with Y/N. She felt different around him, and he didn’t know how long he would be able to hold out.

Thankfully, Steve holds out long enough for Y/N to near her second climax of the night. Her moans grow louder as she moves her hips in unison with his, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“I’m...gonna cum, Steve.” she whimpers out, staring up at him as a string of moans escaped her lips.

“Cum with me baby, now.” Steve says into her ear, his teeth running along her neck for a moment.

The couple finishes together and becomes a moaning, panting mess on Steve’s bed. He pulls out of her afterwards and collapses on the bed next to her. She looks over at him and giggles softly, her eyes fluttering open and closed every once in a while. After laying together for a moment, Steve stands up from where he laid to throw the condom and wrapper into the trash can. He pulls his boxers over his waist and grabs a t-shirt from a drawer, handing it to his tired girlfriend who laid half-asleep on his bed.

“I love you.” she says as she takes the shirt into her hands, smiling happily.

“I love you too, Y/N.” he says, kissing her gently. “At least put the shirt on before you go to bed, baby. I don’t think I’d be able to stay asleep if I knew you were completely naked next to me all night.” Steve joked, which made her laugh.

She slips the shirt over her body and pulls her lace underwear on before laying down on the bed once more, sliding underneath the covers. Steve slips out of the room momentarily to grab her clothes and bag from the living room, so it would be ready for her in the morning. When he makes his way back to the bedroom, she was already fast asleep and cuddling into a pillow peacefully. Steve shakes his head and laughs, turning the lights and cassette player off. He then gets under the covers behind her and wraps his arms around her waist and they fall asleep together.

She was as happy as can be, and so in love with Steve. He was as happy as can be, and she thought he was so in love with her. Everything seemed perfect in the moment, and it would seem that way for a while.

—

Y/N noticed that Steve had been on edge for the past few days and it bothered her. But, she wasn’t one for confrontation. So, she let the eye rolling, less affectionate, distant Steve run his course for a while. After a week of Steve acting like everything she said was stupid, Y/N had dealt with enough.

“I’m tired of studying. Let’s go do something, baby. Let’s go to that burger place that’s close to your house!” she said, flipping through the pages of her Chemistry textbook as she laid on Steve’s bed after school.

Steve’s attention doesn’t waiver from the paper in front of him as he shakes his head. He sits with his back facing her at his desk, never turning around to look at her as he bluntly says “Not right now, Y/N.”

She lets out a sigh of annoyance and shuts her book quickly, tired of being ignored. Shoving her books and pencil into her backpack, a string of curse words is mumbled under her breath. “I guess I‘ll just go by myself and you can stay here and be an ass by yourself.” she breathes out, slinging her backpack across her shoulders. She makes her way to the door and still hears or sees no sign of Steve moving from his spot at his desk. Y/N lets out a loud huff and swings the bedroom door open, bounding down the stairs towards the front door.

“Hey! Y/N! What the hell?” Steve finally calls out from his room before following her down the stairs.

“Really, Steve! You’re gonna say what the hell to me? I’m tired of the way you’ve been acting this week!” she shouts out when she feels Steve grab for her shoulder when she gets to the front door.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been a grade-A asshole! I ask you if you want to do something and you tell me no or that it sounds boring. I say something at lunch to just add to a conversation and you come back by saying that it’s stupid or that I don’t make any sense. You’re not in the mood to do anything, you don’t even want to have sex with me! Which is very unlike you I might add. I haven’t gotten a real kiss from you in a week. I may be your girlfriend, but you’re not treating me like I am right now.” she says, her loud and strong voice wavering towards the end of her spiel.

Out of what seems to be nowhere, she starts crying. She never cried about stupid things like this, but the accumulation of everything took her over the edge. To top off what seemed like the worst week ever, she was about to start her period and was ultra emotional. She leaned against the front door and hid her face in her hands while she shook her head. Steve’s eyes went wide at the sight of her crying. He only knew her as a strong girl who could handle anything. He had seen her cry before, but never because of him.

“Shit. Baby, I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, hey. Look at me.” Steve says in a hurried voice, his heart hurting as he watches her cry.

He pulls her into a hug and she leans into it, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her face buried into his chest and she lets out a small sob as he whispers ‘I’m sorry’ to her over and over again. After a while, he gently grabs her shoulders to pry her off of his chest, then lifts her chin up and leans down to kiss her forehead softly. Her lips form into a pout and she wraps her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his hand.

“I know I’ve been an ass and I’m sorry for that. I’ve just been really stressed out from school and these stupid college letters I’m waiting on. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you and you don’t deserve that.” he whispers to her.

“Yeah, I don’t.” she laughs, slightly rolling her eyes as he presses another kiss against her cheek.

“It won’t happen again, I promise baby. Now how about we go get those burgers and some milkshakes?”

She nodded at him, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She believed that he would never intentionally try to hurt her, thinking that he was everything she could ever want in this moment of her life.

[pookapics]

Sugar, Butter and Flour - A CEO!Steve Rogers x Baker!Reader (Christmas Series) Chapter 3 ~ The Need For A Christmas Miracle

Warnings - Mention of Loss, Fluffy Romance and flirting, Sister!Nat playing Matchmaker

Word Count -  3185

A/N - This series will be completed by the end of January! Sorry for the delay! December was extremely busy due to university deadlines I had due!

Masterlist - https://protectthelesbians.tumblr.com/post/189337379588/are-you-wanting-a-heart-warming-fan-fiction-just

__________________________________________

 Your POV 

 Both of your arms were occupied as you shuffled to your rickety car, you didn’t drive much due to living above the bakery, you only used it to do the deliveries or to get out of the city to make visits home. Piling the boxes into the backseat, securing the seat belt across them so they’d be secure during the ride. Your patchwork scarf wrapped around your neck as to block the coldness of the wind from breathing up your neck, the weather was dropping in the city quickly, icicles forming from the swaying sign which was being battered around in the wind harshly. 

Scuttling back to the store, you locked up and flipped on the closed sign before heading back to your car which was waiting for you on the sidewalk. Sliding into the driver’s seat, switching on the engine, your cold fingers fiddling with the heating to try and get some warmth into your bones. It was time to head to Steve’s office, checking for the address in your text messages with him, inputting the address into your google maps app as you sat still parked on the sidewalk. With the google maps voice going off on the seat next to you, using it to direct you through the large and ever-growing city which seemed to expand more with the blink of an eye. Eyes on the road, fingers tapping the wheel to the rhythm of a song you heard on the radio, trying to make it through the traffic and the chaos which was driving in the city. Christmas lights hanging above all the cars, softly twinkling in the December afternoon, bringing a smile to your face with the growing festive cheer.

The party was 4 days away and you were organising everything you’d need before then. With the menu decided upon somewhat, using today’s delivery as research as to what people in the office liked. You wanted to make something that was one, a crowd-pleaser and two, something that would make people smile. Seeing smiles on your customers faces was the most important thing to you, you weren’t one for confrontation, preferring social harmony. Though sometimes that wasn’t possible, you hoped that someone felt a bit lighter, a bit happier after eating one of your sweet treats.

“TURN LEFT AND YOU WILL HAVE ARRIVED AT YOUR DESTINATION.” 

Google maps snapped you out of your thoughts, taking a turn to the left and seeing the tall tower which Steve mentioned in his messages was the office. He said that its impossible not to notice the building due to the sheer size of it but also the design, a collaboration piece between Tony Stark and his wife Pepper. After finding a spot and paying for parking, you began to haul the cake boxes out of your car, swaying a little as you became off-balance but re-centered yourself quickly as not to drop the cakes. With boots clicking against the sidewalk, you approached the large doors of the building, feeling intimidated by the sheer size of it all. The atmosphere was heavy, the enclosed space of the reception space felt unnerving. Your bright green coat stood out amongst the monotone colour palette of grey, silver and hints of blue, you stuck out like a sore thumb to the receptionist 

“May I help you? Do you have an appointment upstairs?” The tight-lipped receptionist eyed you as you struggled to hold the two boxes in your arms, you nodded “I’m here to see Steve Rogers, this is a delivery for him and the people in the building.” You cracked a smile to lighten the mood, but she simply glanced back down to the computer and then back at you “Ah yes, Mr Rogers had you down for 12 o’clock. It’s not 12 o’clock.” The receptionist glared at you, face blank as you eyed the clock for a moment “Well its 11:55, its better to be early than to be late as my grandma used to say.” you held the boxes, hands slightly sweaty.

The receptionist for a moment opened her mouth, obviously ready to lay it on into you when a voice interrupted the uncomfortable quiet “Alright Janet, no need to be a sourpuss to the visitors, don’t want to make enemies before the Christmas party.” Sam walked in, holding his briefcase, he must’ve come back from a case elsewhere and arrived at just the right time. Sam approached the desk as Janet stuttered “I’ll just lead this little lady up since we’re heading to the same floor, okay Janet?” Janet grumbled and nodded, going back to her Sudoku book which she had on her desk. Sam grinned “Follow me then, want me to take one of those boxes for you?” he asked “Yes please, I don’t want to drop these on the carpet!” giggling as immediately Sam lightened the air as the two of you entered the lift. 

Sam held one of the boxes and tried to open the lid to catch a peek at what goodies you’d brought “Hands off Wilson! No snatching till we get to the office floor!” Sam retracted his hand “Okay Mooom~.” he teased, making you laugh “Steve was right! you and Bucky are 5 year olds trapped in adult bodies!” making a comeback as Sam quirked a brow “So you and Steve been talking huh? About me and Bucky as well? aw shucks I ought to blush!” Further proving Steve’s point which he’d made in texts, that didn’t stop you from blushing at Sam’s insinuating tone at you and Steve talking together. You were saved by the bell as a gentle *bing* rang and the doors to the lift opened revealing the office floor. 

Sam led you out and glanced around the office, the only sound was that of keys clacking from quick typing from the many desks which littered the room. Glancing around, you saw a sea of people just sat at their desks, eyes on their computer screens which only small whispers of chattering could be heard. Sam touched your shoulder “Let's go see the big boss before these delicious smelling treats get snatched up.” carrying the box of treats under one arm as he led you through the office to a separate office. The walls of the office were made of glass, the room was sleek and modern in style, in the corner of the office was someone wearing a deep blue, almost black suit. When the person turned around, it felt like that moment back in the bakery as you locked eyes with Steve through the glass, your little heart couldn’t handle this. His soft golden hair styled away back from his face, the beard shaping his features giving him the rugged look but also still professional and powerful in this work-setting. Raising your hand gently, you waved to him softly as you saw him crack a smile when you did so.  

Sam opened the door to Steve’s office, light was shining in through the glass walls and shining onto Steve’s face gently, the same brief beam of winter sunshine hit your eyes as you entered the office with Sam, making you squint for a moment. Hands holding one of the cake boxes, you walked up to Steve happily “Delivery for Steve Rogers.” you joked as Steve smiled “Why thank you, Ma’am.” he winked faintly and glanced at the two boxes of cakes “We should get these out on the office floor, Sam’s drooling on the box.” making you laugh, to Sam’s dismay. Steve held the door to his office open for you and guided you towards a table where stood a coffee maker, a water cooler and a sad looking fruit bowl with clearly neglected apples and oranges. Placing the boxes down on the table, you began pulling paper plates and recyclable cutlery from your backpack, all would be able to be recycled when you brought the rubbish back to the bakery. 

Gently, you lifted the lid from the cake box, revealing colourful desserts filling the box to the brim, varieties of danishes, pastries to cakes and muffins. Each muffin baked beautifully, golden and risen and puffed up, airy and not too heavy. Cupcakes were iced intricately, the icing never fell or drooped down, the sweet coating swirled and pulled up into a peak which hadn’t been dented. Decorations littered the cupcakes top, varying from candy canes to snowflake sprinkles, some had little festive toppers such as a Santa face or reindeer made of icing. People from their desks watched as you set up the table, Steve helping you which made them raise a brow in confusion, never seeing their boss like this before. Standing back from the table, you watched as one by one, people rose from their desks and wandered over to the table to investigate. Nerves rose from your stomach to your face, cheeks becoming warm and as did your whole body, Steve’s hand brushed against your shoulder “Would you like to take off your coat, you look rather warm.” With your head turning to look at him, you nodded and unzipped your coat and peeled it off your arms, still wearing your apron from this morning underneath, not a dirty apron but an apron nonetheless. 

The festive apron standing out against the formal business wear which everyone was wearing, most definitely. 

But you broke out of that thought as you saw these tired business-folk, fatigued from their work and the energy of the holidays, brighten up as they took a bite into the treats you brought in for them. Sam had sneaked in and taken a few danishes for himself, Steve still stood beside you as you felt your heart swell. The down-trodden atmosphere of the office when you entered now gone, like you cast a magic spell over them and rid them of their fatigue for a just a moment during their lunch-break. Steve chuckled and looked at his employees, chatting together happily as they devoured the sweet treats you had brought in. 

A few people came up to you, empty paper plates covered in the remains of whichever treat they’d devoured, eyes almost childlike as they began to compliment you on your treats. As a small business owner, reaching out to a large audience like this was extraordinary, you had your usual customers and a few delivery jobs you did for the bakery, but you never had this sort of outreach before. People asking about where you were based and being interested in your growing bakery, quickly reaching into your jacket pocket, said jacket placed on a chair close to the table. Handing out a few business cards to the interested people, smiling and chatting with everyone. Occasionally turning your head to look at Steve, who was still stood by your side and smiling. 

Steve’s other close friends and colleagues came up to you such as Wanda and Nat, holding their own paper plates in hand. They seemed like they would get on so well with your best friend, Dot, especially Nat with her strong personality. But you could tell she had a sweet side to her, especially by the choice of dessert she chose, a simple cupcake with sprinkles powdered atop it. 

Wanda smiled “So you’re the baker that’s catering for the party?” her voice sweet and kind, you nodded “Yes! I’m doing market research to see what you guys like before the party, want to make a people pleaser kind of treat!” smoothing out the wrinkles of your apron “I think everything you brought is a people pleaser to be fair.” Nat pointed her finger to the near empty cake-boxes where only two cupcakes left, the entire spread had been devoured “W-Wow!” you retrieved the remaining cupcakes and had one yourself “I think anything you make will be a crowd-pleaser (YN), literally anything.” Nat laughed and licked smeared icing off of her finger. Smiling, you glanced to Steve who’d retreated into his office when you weren’t looking and glancing to a frame which was on his desk.

That’s when you remembered.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a small paper bag which was adorned with festive design but also your logo for the bakery “Excuse me for just a moment.” You walked through the small crowd of people surrounding the tiny table in the office, bag in hand. Squeezing past the crowds of people to reach the door to Steve’s office, his eyes still affixed to the photo frame. Softly, you knocked on the door, breaking Steve’s eyes from staring at the frame and locked on you. He gave you his usual smile, using his hand to motion for you to enter, ushering you inside. 

Heading into his office with the door closing behind you, stepping up to his desk where he was sat “For you.” handing the paper bag to him which held another treat you’d chosen for him specifically. By now, you’d learnt what he liked in his desserts. Steve grinned “You are full of surprises, Miss (YN).” He took a peek into the bag to see what you’d brought him “I try my best Mr Rogers.” shrugging and looking around his office, sneaking a look at the photo he’d been looking at on his desk.

It was a photograph of a younger Steve, not much younger but by the lack of beard you could tell that this was some time ago, in his arms he held a small baby, definitely Sarah, who looked no older than 5 months in this photograph. Her little head dusted with golden blonde hair that looked almost white in the light of the photograph. Steve, who had opened the bag for the sweet treat and had just taken a bite, had spotted you looking at the photograph “That’s from Sarah’s first December, she was so entranced by the snow.” Speaking fondly of his daughter. 

Smiling, you looked at Steve “She’s an amazing little girl, Steve. She’ll steal so many hearts. I can already tell.” You admitted, those round brown eyes which resembled warm honey, could and would melt anyone’s heart. Steve chuckled “She’s stolen mine completely and utterly, guess that just come’s with being a parent.” he took another bite of the muffin you’d chosen for him today. Glancing to Steve, you just nodded and sighed contently as your eyes looked around his office. 

“You know you always hum Christmas songs when you’re daydreaming?” Steve broke your wandering eyes which were gazing out of the window of his office “Got a problem with that mister? I happen to like being in a festive spirit.” Cheeks adorned with a soft shade of pink as Steve chuckled “Okay Mrs Clause! I get it! Just because I’m not as big of a fan of Christmas as you, no need to be like that.” You laughed at that “Mrs Claus? Well okay then, Mr Grinch!” winking as Steve laughed loudly, sitting back in his chair. The sound of his laughter ringing throughout the office which made everyone’s head turn for a moment and they tilted their heads, hearing the sound of their usually stoic boss laughing an almost jolly laugh. Steve placed his hand over his mouth for a moment as you smiled widely “As retaliation for your dislike for anything festive, I will leave this here on your desk! To spread some Christmas cheer!” joking around with him as you retrieved one of the icing cake toppers that was on your cupcake and placed it atop his name plaque. 

A small red robin placed atop his plaque “There!” sticking out your tongue as you affixed it onto the plaque, concentrating. Smiling as you saw him raise his brows “You are ridiculous but that’s what I like about you.” Steve eyed the robin cake topper and looked up at you “Then I will continue to be ridiculous, Mr Grinch.” crossing your arms just like he usually did and faked a grumpy face which immediately dropped when you noticed the time “Oh dammit! My parking runs out in 5 minutes!” Not wanting to get a ticket on such a happy day for you, Steve shook his head “Time to make a break for it.” to which you nodded and waved bye to Steve “I’ll see you later Steve! I’ll text you your bill for today.” winking jokingly as you left his office and gathered the rubbish and empty cake boxes, going to take those back to be composted at the bakery. 

“I’ll look forward to it!” Steve called out as you entered the lift and descend down to the ground floor, rushing to your car before you got a ticket. Rushing past reception, you stopped for a split second and retrieved the final cupcake from the box and placed it on Janet’s desk “Have a nice day, Janet!” Hoping that would make the disgruntled receptionist finally smile. Which it did, you rushed out the door to your car and just getting their by the skin of your teeth. Piling all the rubbish into the back of your car and into the boot. Taking a final glance up to the Avengers Building before getting into the driver’s seat and starting your journey back to the bakery.

Meanwhile, still up in the building. Two women stood with their backs resting against the wall as they were standing in silence. Nat’s fiery red hair cut so that it hit her jawline with a strand swept behind her ear, the pearl earring exposed, her eyes trained on her long-time friend who was in the office across from her. She cared for him like a brother. Truly. 

“You know, I’ve not seen him smile like that since you know....” Wanda broke the silence between the two of them and looked at Nat who just sighed and gave a simple nod. She had been watching the two of you from their position in the room intently and especially when (YN) had left. Nat glanced to her friend “I know, Wan. I know.” thinking back for a moment and glancing back to Steve’s office “But I think he’s finally ready. Ready to have that again. He deserves it and I think she’s good for him.” Nat cracking a smile, Wanda couldn’t help but smile when she spotted Steve who was sat at his desk and in his hand he held the robin cake topper and moved it from the name plaque to atop the photograph of him a Sarah. His finger tracing the details of the little robin decoration. 

Holding it as if it was the most delicate and his most treasured object. Nat smiled “Yeah I think she’s just what he’s missing.” The missing puzzle piece which was missing from Steve’s life for the past 5 years. And from what Nat could see and hope, you seemed to fit perfectly in that blank space in Steve’s heart. She just hoped that Steve had the grasp the opportunity before it runs away from him, he deserved all the happiness and so did that little girl who he’d raised. 

All they needed now was a Christmas miracle. 

END OF CHAPTER 3

__________________________________

TAGLIST! - @chuckennuggets1213​ @imsonick​ @nervousstrangersandwich​ @justthatfangirloverthere​ @sheadre​ @125bluemachine125​ @giggleberts​ @kind-sober-fullydressed​ @fluffyirwinie​ @kaithezaftig​ @ilovesupersoldiers​ @royale-skeleton-key​ @mcuwillbethedeathofme​ @https://coldmuffinbanditshoe.tumblr.com/ @amberkay284​

[missroserose]

We’ll Become Who We Meant To Be

Donation prompt #1.  For @ihni​.

“I think that we all do heroic things; but hero is not a noun, it’s a verb.”  --Robert Downey, Jr.

*

“Good morning,” Joyce Byers said with some irony.

She was sitting at the table in the darkened kitchen, lit only by the hood lamp over the aging stove and the bright cherry of her cigarette.  Steve glanced at the clock over the range; it was past one AM.  He avoided looking at the freezer, even though he knew the corpse of the demo-dog was gone; he’d buried it himself, yesterday.

“Sorry,” he said, felt a little like he was intruding on a private moment.  “I couldn’t sleep.”

Joyce smiled, looking for a moment like an old priestess, careworn but welcoming.  “That makes two of us.  Come on, sit down.”

Steve sat, gingerly—Joyce looked so tired, the perennial circles under her eyes even darker than usual.  Not that his own mug was any great work of art, in its current condition.  

As if sensing his thoughts, Joyce asked, “How’s your face?”

He gave an embarrassed sort of half-shrug.  The truth was, it hurt like a bitch.  “Nothing broken.  It’ll heal.”  A pause, as he scrambled for something to say.  “How’s Will?”

She gave a wry half-smile to match his shrug.  “He’ll heal, at least.”  A pause, as she took a drag on the cigarette, held it in for a moment, blew it out.  “Or he won’t.  But he’s a tough kid.  Tougher than people give him credit for.”

Steve thought of the sight that met him when he checked on the kids a minute ago, sleeping preteens draped over each other like puppies sharing warmth.  “He has good friends.”

“Better than yours were?”  Her question prodded at a less physical sort of bruise, and Steve winced.  Joyce shook her head in a vague apology.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to pry.  But you seem awfully lonely.  The kids are great, but…”

Steve understood what she meant.  “I guess.  All my friends were...assholes, really.  They were assholes because I was an asshole.  Then...I fell in love with Nance, and she wanted...someone better.  Someone decent.”  The words started out hesitant, but soon began daisy-chaining together, one after the next, a magician’s scarf pulled from a sleeve.  “And for a little while I thought,  I could do it.  I can be that for her.  So I dumped my asshole friends.  I gave up on being the cool guy, tried to be a decent guy instead.  Tried to be the hero she needed.  And now—”  

He didn’t have to finish the story; they both knew how it turned out.  Joyce simply looked at him, the cherry brightening as she took another drag.

Steve shrugged again, suddenly bashful.  “I was just fooling myself, anyway.  I’ve never been that type.  I think—”  His voice cracked a little, but Joyce pretended not to notice, for which Steve found himself decidedly grateful.  “Honestly, I think she was right to dump me.”

The words sat between them, heavy pebbles polished to a high sheen by their constant tumbling in Steve’s mind.

After a moment, Joyce reached into her pocket and handed over the pack of cigarettes.

“Do you want to be a hero?”   

*

Behind the mall, standing just upwind of the dumpsters and sweating in the humid June afternoon, Steve doesn’t feel like a hero.

He feels…ordinary.  An ordinary wage slave, working an ordinary gig in a mall that, despite what the ads on TV would have you believe, is about as ordinary as you can get.  Dozens of them, all across Middle America.

He finds the thought—the anonymity—oddly comforting.

Which doesn’t make the job itself suck any less.  He lingers for a moment, working up the courage to cross the parking lot in his ridiculous sailor uniform.  There’s just enough wind to ruffle through his hair, dry the sweat that somehow always accumulates there despite the mall’s air-conditioning.  Taking the trash out is possibly the least glamorous part of an unglamorous job, but Steve appreciates precisely one thing about it—it means his shift is over, which means he can finally ditch the stupid fucking hat.  

He takes a couple of breaths, savoring the warm soupy air after hours spent in refrigerated, fluorescent-lit hell.  He fingers the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, debating whether to light one.  He knows Dustin would get on his back about it—haven’t you seen the news?  Those things will give you cancer, Steven!—but he’d like to see Dustin do this job without something to help him keep his cool—

“Boy, we’ve talked about this.  You know good and well what happens when you mouth off in front of your sister like that.  You want her to learn your disrespectful habits?”

The words only half-register in Steve’s distracted state, the anger in them leaving more of an impression than the actual meaning.  It’s the response that catches his ear—he knows that obstinate baritone.  “Are we talking about the same Maxine?  She doesn’t need my help to be smart.  She just keeps it bottled up around you and Susan.”  

That voice doesn’t sound like Steve’s ever heard it.  It’s…whiny, almost.  Petulant, with an undercurrent of something he can’t quite place, something that’s wrong in it the way demodogs were wrong in the junkyard.  Something that doesn’t fit.

“Then perhaps you should learn from her example.”  The voices are coming from round the corner, where (Steve knows, because it’s an excellent spot for a smoke break) two protrusions along the mall’s side make a convenient alcove.

Steve knows he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he tiptoes a little closer anyway, careful to keep out of sight.  

“Sure, if you want me to act like a little bitch, I’ll start studying right the hell up—”

Punches, Steve has had reason to discover, sound nothing at all like they do in the movies.  The noise is somewhere between a slap and a thud—the tangible thwack of skin hitting skin, the darker, more visceral thump of the bones beneath colliding with barely a thin cushion of meat between them.  Steve’s gut clenches, and without realizing he’d made the decision, he finds himself rounding the corner.  ”Hey!  What’re you—“

He hasn’t seen Billy Hargrove since graduation—since before then, really; Hargrove hadn’t bothered to show up to the ceremony, and Steve, who had endured what felt like hours of smiling and shaking his father’s friends’ hands, had found himself a little envious.  Now he stands against the wall, posture defiant despite the fingers gathered in the collar of his t-shirt.  His eyes meet Steve’s, widen, something of that same wrongness in them.  “Harrington?” he says, his voice rough as if the word had been dragged out via fishhook—then his gaze drops, perhaps in preparation for the fist that’s pulled back, ready to strike again.

Steve follows that fist along its arm back to its owner.  He doesn’t recognize the man, and there’s not much resemblance—broader build, haircut that might’ve once been military, square jaw.  But the sudden hollow sensation in Steve’s stomach, as the man’s intense blue-eyed gaze turns on him, is horribly familiar.

This has to be Billy’s father.

It’s not his business.  This is clearly a family affair.  It’s not on him to interrupt.  He should turn around and pretend he didn’t see anything.  It’s not his place.  He shouldn’t get involved.  People will be angry at him if he tries to step in.  He’s wearing a fucking sailor suit, for god’s sake—

Billy’s lip is bleeding.

And Billy’s father—is smiling.

The smile has an edge to it, a glitter like the fresh-cut edge of rusted rebar.  It reminds Steve of his own joyless grin, captured in that stupid commercial for everyone in Hawkins to see in between reruns of M*A*S*H—and Steve’s hit with a terrible sense of deja vu, waits for the man to throw his head back.  Hears Billy’s wild laughter in his head.  I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone’s been talking about—

But he doesn’t laugh, only lets go of Billy’s collar, turns.  Straightens.  “Ahh.  You must be the Harrington boy.”  He takes a step towards Steve.  “I’ve heard a bit about you.  Seems you got a couple good hits in on Billy here last fall before he laid you out.”

Despite the casual tone, despite the sweltering heat, Steve can feel the words trickle down his spine, icy trails left as they pool cold in his gut.  He wants to bluster, he wants to cower, he wants to run; he can’t move, doesn’t even know how his voice will sound when he opens his mouth.  “I’m sorry—”

The man waves a hand, the same hand that had been pulled back in a fist just moments ago.  “No, no.  No need to be sorry.  Boys will be boys, and my son—” here he glances back at Billy, who’s staring resolutely at the asphalt—“has an attitude problem.”  He runs a hand through his hair, adjusts his collar.  “In any case, I should be getting back to the family.  I’ll let the two of you work things out.”  A hand comes down on Steve’s shoulder, somehow far heavier than it should be.  “And Billy?”

Steve doesn’t miss the way Billy flinches when the man says his name.  “Yes?”

“Don’t be too long.  I expect to see you in an hour for the movie.”

They stand for a moment after the man leaves, minutes or hours or days.  The hair on the back of Steve’s neck eventually lays back down.  Billy still refuses to meet Steve’s eyes.

Finally, Billy speaks.  “Go on then.”  He doesn’t look up.  His voice sounds more normal, just…tired.  Defeated.  “You heard him.  Take a swing.”

Steve blinks.  And, for a moment…

…but that, as Dustin would say, is the Dark Side talking.  And didn’t the green guy with the big ears have something to say about that?  Forever will it dominate your destiny…

“I’m sorry,” he says instead.

Billy finally looks up again, and as those blue eyes meet his, all thoughts of Star Wars are immediately gone from Steve’s head.  If there’s one thing Billy shares with his father, it’s that ability to project danger.

“Don’t be sorry,” Billy spits.  “Just punch me and get it over with.  We both know you want to.”

“And have you lay me out again?”  Steve scoffs.  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I won’t.”  Billy lifts his chin a little.  “I can take my licks.  I’m not a pussy.”

And Steve…is tempted.  Curls his fingers into a fist as he imagines the deeply satisfying slap-thud of landing a punch on Billy’s jaw.  Payback for days spent with a swollen face, weeks of watching his supposed friends drift away, months of frustration at the constant snubs and taunts and put-downs.

It’d be a good thing, in the end, says a voice in Steve’s head.  A preemptive strike.  Show the enemy your strength, deter them from attacking in the future and causing greater damage.  Heroic, even—

Do you want to be a hero?

Steve takes a breath.  Uncurls his fingers.

“It’s not right,” he says.  “Doesn’t matter if it’s him or me.  You don’t deserve that shit.”

Billy’s eyes flash at that, and he pushes off from the wall.  Gets up in Steve’s face.  “Don’t tell me what I fucking deserve, Harrington.  You don’t know shit about me.”  He jabs a finger in Steve’s chest.  “You don’t know what I’m like.  What I’m capable of.  Don’t you ever fucking pity me—”

Steve holds up his hands, steps back.  Is about to turn on his heel.  Serves him right for trying to be a decent human being to this asshole—

Billy’s hand is shaking.

He glances at Billy again.  Really looks him in the face.  In his eyes.  And something there causes a fluttering hollow, deep in his stomach.  An alien feeling. 

Carefully, exaggeratedly, he looks down, then up.  “Do I look like I’m in a position to pity anyone?”

He watches as Billy’s gaze rakes over his outfit.  Watches his expression turn from angry, to vulnerable, to confounded.  “...the fuck are you wearing?”

Slowly, Steve reaches into his pocket.  Pulls out the cigarettes.

“Tell you what,” he says, keeping his voice casual.  Taps out a cigarette, holds it out to Billy, a peace offering in a white cylinder.  “I’ll tell you if you tell me what your father was so pissed about.”  

“Like he needs a fuckin’ reason,” Billy mutters, but he takes the cigarette between his lips, reaches into his own pocket for a lighter.  “I’m disrespectful, is all.  A bad seed.  Anyone can tell.”  Flicks it, once, twice, but his hands are shaking too hard to get a proper catch on the wick.

“Here, let me,” Steve says on instinct, reaches up to help.  

He only means to take the lighter from Billy, but his fingers brush Billy’s hand, and he nearly jumps at the sensation.  Skin on skin, tingling, almost electric.

Billy goes still.  Steve flicks his eyes back up to Billy’s face, half afraid he’s having some kind of fit, but he’s breathing—rapid and shallow, blue eyes fixed on the lighter, on the place where their hands touch.  Those eyes raise to meet his—not quite a question.

Not quite a denial, either.

Delicately, Steve wraps his hands around Billy’s.  He flicks the wheel on the lighter, holds Billy’s hand steady as he guides it to the cigarette.  The space between them is so quiet, Steve can hear the paper shrivel beneath the heat.

Belatedly, Billy sucks in air, lights the cig properly.  Steve snaps the lighter shut, withdraws his hands.  Waits for the awkward moment to pass, for Billy to step away.

He doesn’t.  Billy pockets the lighter.  Looks up at Steve again.   And there’s something…not wrong in this eyes, this time, but different.  Clearer, like a window that’s been cleaned of grime.

“It was Max.”  The words are mumbled around the cigarette, barely more than a bitter whisper.  He takes a drag, turns his head to the side to blow it out.  “Little bitch was pocketing a lipstick.  Neil was already in a mood, was about to round the corner and see her.  So I—I said some shit.”  He shrugs, looks down at the bloodstained cigarette between his fingers.  “I don’t remember what.  Doesn’t really matter.  It got his attention.”

Steve feels something sour turn over in his gut.  “Does he hit her too?”

A flare in Billy’s eyes, the usual defiance reappearing; for a moment Steve is convinced he’s gone too far.  Steels himself for more venomous words, maybe for a punch.  

Then Billy’s eyes brighten again, and—a tear slides down his cheek.  

“Not yet.”  A trembling hand to his lips, another drag on the cigarette.  “Not ever, so long as I’m around.”  

Their gaze has gotten a little too intimate.  Steve sucks in a breath, moves to the side, takes a few steps over to the wall.  Leans with his back against it, pulls out a cigarette for himself.  Billy joins him, and they smoke together for a moment, in silence.

Steve’s emotions are a jumble.  Surprise, that Billy would care so much.  Anger, that this would be the choice that defines anyone’s life.  Fear, for Billy and for Max.  And something else, something he can’t quite define, but that fills his chest with sweet-scented air.

Awe, maybe.

“Some people would call that heroic,” he finally says.

Billy gives a sort of half-smile, though it’s more bitter than sad.  “Yeah, well.  We’re family.  We’re all we’ve got.”

Steve shakes his head.  “Not true.”  He bumps his shoulder, lightly, against Billy’s.  “You’ve got me too.”  He laughs, then, just as bitter.  “For what that’s worth.  No college.  No apartment.  Three bucks an hour scooping ice cream.  No future.”  He makes a sad little jazz-hands motion.  “Ta daaa.  King Steve, at your service.”

Billy turns, takes a moment to savor the sight of Steve in his uniform.  “Could be worse,” he says.

“Oh?  How, exactly, could it be worse?”

A little of the old cockiness comes back into his stance, as he shoots Steve a wink.  “You look fuckin’ adorable in that suit.”

*

“Do you want to be a hero?”

Steve had smoked his cigarette halfway down by the time he answered.  “Doesn’t everyone?  Fight evil?  Save the day?  Get the girl?  All the movie stuff?”

It was Joyce’s turn to shrug as she tapped her butt out in the ashtray.  “I guess it depends on what you mean by ‘hero’.  Some people want all of that.  Some people prefer things…quieter.  They want to have friends, and a life, and maybe someone to love.  But put those people in danger, put the people they love in danger…and they’ll do anything to save them.  Face down a monster.  Spread a rumor.  Take a beating from a bully.”  She pauses, looks at his face meaningfully.  “Does that make them less heroic?”

Steve hadn’t known that blushing could hurt.  “I dunno.  Maybe those people could’ve done more.  Maybe…what they did wasn’t enough, in the end.”

To his surprise, Joyce sat back in her chair, thought it over.  “Maybe they’re not heroes, then.”  She nodded, as if she’d come to some conclusion, and smiled at Steve.  “Maybe they’re just decent people.”

*

“There is only one heroism in the world:  to see the world as it is, and to love it.”  --Romain Rolland

help me raise money to fight MS!

[kohanayaki]

Caught in the Middle (Steve Harrington x Reader x Billy Hargrove) Ch 4

Links: Ch 1   Ch 2   Ch 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6  Ch 7

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Ch 4 .:A Date?:.

Sunlight streamed in through your window, ribbons of light cascading across your bed sheets. You could hear the faint sound of birds chirping as the morning greeted you.

And you felt like complete and utter shit. 

You groaned, your head pounding, as you tried to block out some of the light with your pillow. You'd gotten home last night at 2:00 on the dot, feeling fine. In fact, you even caught up on some homework before you went to sleep. Now you just felt like you'd been hit by a truck.

You looked over at the time, reluctantly getting out of bed when you saw how late in the morning it was. The kids were biking over in half an hour to go to the mall and you looked like hell.

You padded down the hallway, mustering up a weak laugh when you saw your brother passed out in his room, knowing he'd probably wake up to the same fate as you. 

As you made your way downstairs the smell of breakfast food made your stomach rumble on instinct. You were 'hydrated' plenty last night, but there wasn't much actual food. Your eyes lit up as you rounded the corner and saw your dad plating up some eggs, bacon, and pancakes. He grinned as he saw you, setting the plate down on the table in front of you. 

“And how is my daughter doing this fine morning?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Swell,” you said sarcastically.

He laughed, walking over to the cabinet to get you some Tylenol and a glass of water. 

“Trust me, I know the feeling,” he said, “I can't really say anything on this one, I'd be lying if I said I haven't done worse when I was your age. That hangover is punishment enough. Just drink water throughout the day, and go on and eat something greasy while you're at the mall too. But get your blood sugar up right now, I don't want you back in that car until your head's clear, you understand?”

“Will do,” you said, already stuffing your face, “Thanks, dad.”

“You're welcome,” he smiled, “Love you, drive safe.”

“Love you too,” you said through a mouthful of bacon. 

As he retreated back into his office you savored the taste of the feast he made for you. You smiled fondly as you did. Your dad didn't really cook until he became a single parent. When he took on the full responsibility of raising you and your brother, he tried his best to fill your mom's role, following the old recipe books she'd left behind. His first attempts were a general health hazard, but as time went on he actually turned out to be a great cook.

The sudden ringing of bicycle bells outside your house made you scarf down the rest of your plate, snatching your car keys off the table. 

You opened the front door to see the whole gang waiting for you.

“I swear, the only time you guys are on time for anything is when you're leeching off of me,” you said, unlocking the car and leaving them to figure out the seating.

“You know us so well,” Dustin said, hopping into the shotgun seat before anyone else could take it. 

“I forgot to ask earlier, but how was that summer camp you went to, Dustin?” you asked, turning on the engine.

“It was so cool,” he beamed, “Our counselor taught us how to make all kinds of inventions. I made a self-nailing hammer, a wind powered clock, and a radio tower so I can talk to my girlfriend whenever I want since her parents monitor her phone calls.”

“Girlfriend?” you turned to look at him. He smiled back at you, bright as anything.

“Yeah, we were surprised too,” Max said from the back.

“Although we're not sure she actually exists,” Mike chimed in, “Apparently she's as hot as Phoebe Cates.”

“Hotter than Phoebe Cates,” Dustin corrected, “And she's a genius too.”

“Riiight,” Lucas said. 

“Well I think she sounds great, Dusty,” you said, “It's pretty romantic you built that radio tower just to talk to her.”

“It's the strongest communications network in Hawkins across 150 channels,” he said proudly.

“Well, that's certainly impressive,” you grinned, ruffling his hair. 

Soon you pulled up to one of the many entrances to the mall, stopping at the curb. 

“Well, this is your stop, guys,” you said, “What are you gonna see?”

“The Stuff,” Mike said excitedly. 

“Isn't that rated R?” you questioned, a brow raised. 

All of them looked at each other, slightly panicked.

“Well, we'll see you later, (Y/n)!” Lucas said, flinging open the back door and getting out as fast as he could. Everyone else quickly fled after him, running towards the theater. You shook your head. They got themselves into a lot of shenanigans, but admittedly you were the one instigating it most of the time when you were younger, even if you were the babysitter. 

However, as soon as the kids left for the movie you were painfully reminded of the throbbing headache you had. You groaned as one of the strobe lights around the movie theater glared in your face, not helping matters in the slightest. 

You knew eating a bunch of greasy food technically didn't do anything for a hangover, but it sure made you feel a hell of a lot better emotionally. With that in mind you decided to walk over to the Burger Chef located inside the mall for a little pick me up. 

Luckily for you there wasn't much of a line. Only a few people were scattered around the seating area at the food court. You were looking over the menu hanging on the wall when a familiar voice broke your train of thought.

“(Y/n)?”

You looked around at the sound of your name to see Steve looking back at you, just as surprised. 

“Hey,” you said. You took a moment to look over him. He looked just as awful as you did, if you were honest. The deep-set bags under his tired eyes aged him an eternity, and he looked a bit green as well. 

“You too, huh?” You bit back a grin as you gave him a short laugh through your nose.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “In hind sight I probably shouldn't have mixed liquors, but hey, there's nothing I can do about it now. Figured some fries might help.”

“They always do,” you said, “What are you doing here, anyways? Aren't you on your shift at Scoops?” You noticed he was still in his work uniform.

“Lunch break,” he explained, “I don't really have long, but we can grab a table if you want.”

“I'd like that,” you smiled.

Steve was a little surprised at his own forwardness. Apparently he was hungover enough to not overthink everything that came out of his mouth. However he was even even more surprised at you agreeing to sit down with him. He didn't know why his brain was making such a big deal out of this; you ate lunch with him every day and hung out together all the time, but then again that was also including a group of other people. You and Steve had never really spent time together when it was just the two of you, except for when you iced his busted face after the basketball stunt, which hardly counted as a first date. 

He felt uncharacteristically nervous as he slid into the booth next to you. A year ago he would have been pulling out all the stops to make you his, but now he just wasn't so sure anymore. He was never afraid of rejection before, but when he thought of you as the one rejecting him he figured it would be better to not say anything at all. 

'Get yourself together,' Steve thought to himself, 'It's just lunch with a friend. Friends do that!'

“Penny for your thoughts, Popeye?” you said, flicking the fabric of his sailor hat. 

“Huh?” Steve said, snapping out of it, “Oh, nothing, just, uh. . .” he quickly picked up a menu, hoping to cover the majority of his reddening face with it, “Looking at the XXL Supreme. 2Lb beef patty with bbq sauce, ranch, fried pickles, beer cheese and. . . yeah, that sounds pretty gross.”

“I'll probably stick to a regular burger,” you laughed, glancing at the menu over his shoulder. 

You were so close he could feel the heat coming off your body and smell the sweet scent of your perfume. He scolded himself for being so weak, forcing himself to concentrate only on the food. 

Right at that moment a waiter strolled up to you, writing pad in hand. 

“Hi. Welcome to Burger Chef,” he said, sounding just as dead inside as he looked, “How may I serve you today?”

“A double patty melt with cheddar,” Steve said, “And a coke, please.”

“I'm trying to decide between-” you stopped yourself as you looked up, staring at the waiter. You thought he looked familiar and it was then that you realized he was one of the guys that bullied your brother in middle school. Your eyes narrowed as you recalled how he and his friends cut the strings on Kyle's guitar when he brought it to school one day. 

You saw a flash of recognition in his eyes and your lips curved upwards.

“The classic burger, simple,” you said, the fakest smile you could muster on your face, “But on a sesame bun instead of the brioche, no mayo, extra mustard, add caramelized onions and extra cheese, and don't forget the pickles. If you could add shredded lettuce instead of the whole leaf that'd be great. Oh, and a Neapolitan shake with chocolate syrup and no whipped cream.”

“We don't have a Neapolitan shake,” he said irritably and slightly panicked, trying to write everything down. 

“Well I heard in your commercial if you just ask, an employee would be happy to mix any of the milkshake flavors together,” you said, your smirk widening. What could you say? Being a bitch was fun sometimes- especially when the person on the receiving end was a total dickhead. 

“Coming right up,” the waiter said through his teeth.

Steve looked between the two of you before the waiter stormed off to the kitchen window, slamming his hand down on the bell with more force than necessary.

“So, what'd he do?” Steve chuckled.

“Bullied my brother really bad in school,” you said, “What goes around comes around, though. In a few years Kyle will be off to LA to start touring with his band and this guy will still be here covered in fry grease wearing a burger shaped hat.”

“Well I hope that's not my fate,” Steve said, only half joking as he took his uniform hat off, twirling it in his hands. 

You could tell even though he tried to hide behind the humor it was something he really was concerned about. 

“Hey, don't worry about it,” you said, nudging his shoulder lightly, “You're not an asshole. . . anymore.”

You managed to get a laugh out of him at the end and you smiled, glad you were at least able to cheer him up some.

“Seriously, though, it's fine to not know what you want to do with your life yet,” you said, “Hell, I know grown ass men who still don't know what they're doing. You don't have to go to some fancy college to do something great.”

Steve looked at you, thinking over your words. He thought it was crazy how you were his age but you were so much more mature and optimistic than he was. The way you thought was unlike anyone he's met before in Hawkins, and it only further intensified his wanting to get to know you.

“Thanks, (Y/n),” he smiled.

Meanwhile, your little crew of gremlins had finished their film, now making their way to the food court for lunch.

“What do you think The Stuff tastes like?” Lucas asked to no one in particular.

“I bet it's like Betty Crocker frosting,” Dustin said dreamily.   

“Um can we not talk about how sentient parasitic goo tastes? Because we're literally about to go eat,” Max said.

Suddenly Dustin stopped in his tracks, making Will run into his back. 

“Dustin, what the hell?” Mike said, screeching to a halt before he could collide with Will. 

“No way,” Dustin said, staring far off some place the others couldn't see.

“What's wrong?” El asked, confused. 

Dustin pulled his friends behind the shrubbery next to the fountain, ducking in the cover as he peeked his head out slightly. 

“They're on a date!” Dustin said, a little too loudly. He ignored the stares he got from passersby as he continued to watch you and Steve laugh over your burgers in your shared booth.

“(Y/n) and Steve?” Mike said, “I thought he was still hung up over Nancy breaking up with him.”

“Well clearly the man's moved on,” Lucas said.

Max rolled her eyes, hitting him on the arm.

“Ow!” Lucas exclaimed, turning to her, “What was that for?”

“Just because a guy and a girl are hanging out doesn't mean it's a 'date',” she pointed out, “Maybe they're just good friends. I've seen them around each other a lot at school.”

“I think he finally worked up the courage to ask her out for real,” Dustin started theorizing, ignoring Max completely. 

“What do you mean for real?” Will asked.

“It's so obvious he's into her but he's scared of striking out,” Dustin said, “That whole Nancy situation really struck a blow to his self confidence.”

Mike tried to get a better look at what you two were doing, leaning over El's shoulder and squinting at the burger place. Suddenly his footing slipped from under him as he accidentally took a step on the wet tile near the fountain and fell on his ass into a bush. 

“Shit!”

You and Steve stopped eating your burgers and turned around at the sudden noise, but saw nothing but a ruffle in the plants nearby. 

“That was weird,” you said, looking around. 

“Yeah,” Steve said, “Well, it's bear season, you never know when they'll sneak up on you.”

You laughed at that, the sound making Steve's heart flutter. He loved your laugh, even more so when he knew he was the cause of it. 

Suddenly Steve remembered his shift was probably starting, his lunch break was less than an hour long.

“Shit, I should've been back ten minutes ago,” Steve said, looking down at his watch, “My shift already started.”

“Oh, sorry,” you said, “I didn't mean for this to go on for so long.”

Steve looked surprised, shaking his head vigorously. 

“No, no, I liked it,” he said, not fully registering how the sentence sounded out loud until your cheeks flushed.

“I-I mean-”

“I get it,” you laughed softly, “I liked it too.”

Steve felt like his heart was just shot through with cupid's arrow as you smiled up at him and offered to walk him back to Scoops. He hadn't felt this way since Nancy. After she broke his heart he was convinced he would never get over her, but now you were here, occupying all the free space in his mind despite only knowing you for a short while. What the hell was going on with him?

His mental debate came to an unceremonious stop when he realized you were already in front of the ice cream shop.

Steve turned to you and did his best to sound indifferent. He had a really good time, but he didn't know if you felt the same way.

“Well, I better get back to it,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly, “You know, suit up, sling ice cream, appease the masses-”

“We should do this again sometime,” you said, effectively flipping the 'off' switch on his rambling. 

Steve seemed to freeze in this plane of existence, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah! I mean, that's what I was gonna ask you, but I didn't know if you wanted to, and. . .” he trailed off, kicking himself again.   

'When you talk you just make it worse,' he mentally scolded himself.

You laughed a bit at his flushed face.

'Adorable,' you thought. For being the former king of Hawkins High, he was still a giant dork.

“Well I'll definitely see you around this time, then,” you smiled, reminded of your first day back. Things were different between you two now, but that wasn't a bad thing at all.

You walked out of Scoops Ahoy feeling lighter, a smile on your face and your headache long forgotten. With your disastrous dating history, maybe Steve Harrington was the kind of guy who could be good for you right now.

The very thought made you feel giddy inside, but as you said yourself before, life had a funny way of changing your plans completely.

Read Chapter 5 here!

Taglist: @in-my-dreams-2000 @ggclarissa @iris1697 @5sosxgrethan @ohnoniella @sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack @aspiring-fangirls-world @wow-im-so-tired @hopesxxhigh @justanothercrazyassfangirl @too-many-lanes @whimsylavender @bish-ima-clown @amarachoren @mosiacbrokenheartstf @mcuvlxgs @xapham @metuel18 @immirandaq @nellaphine @multi-madison @gingertalksshit @jojo-buttercup @kyberhearts @mvdelaine @minnie-marvel @caitlin-rose28 @zandaleekrz @r3inventedd @void-fire-rose @macymafia @wanna-be-idle @newtsshelbys @kimmydespell @weyheyokay @r4ttusr4ttus @cynthianokamaria

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Stories, Tales & Facts (Part 2.) (Sriracha, Part 37.)

Series description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: As Hopper proceeds to show you facts to prove his sanity, you're starting to play with thoughts about these stories he told maybe having some truth in them.

A/N: Inspired by Mirkwood, In the Void, She'll Kill You and the Upside Down from the Stranger Things season one original soundtrack by Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein, since these are just the the shit.

Word count: 3.2 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @missdictatorme @ysljordy @creedslove

Series master list: H E R E

GIF SOURCE

There was nothing. In all seriousness, there was nothing. Your eyes couldn't see a single shape around you. It felt as if you stepped into a different dimension right after you stepped out of the safety of the control room and continued through the small contamination room. The light that was surrounding you just seconds ago... It had disappeared, being absorbed by the void of darkness around you. You felt scared out of your mind.

Also, it got drastically colder when you stepped out of the safety of the facility constructs. Even your in your super warm winter jacket, you could feel goosebumps on your arms. You were looking around cautiously, even if you couldn't see a thing. You freaked out a bit when you heard the sound of the old flashlight being started and you saw the shape of Hop's figure spinning the handle. When the light came out it, you were blinded by it for a second before you got used to it. You weren't in the safety of the building, not anymore. You were walking on a soil-like terrain in a cave of sorts, and the hall of the cave was just huge.

That was when you noticed the white snowflakes falling to the ground and while Hopper was searching for something, you looked up, watching the small white particles falling. There was just a bit of it, but it still rose your eyebrows... But when was it the last time it snowed in a cave?

"Don't touch it, okay? It's not what you think it is." - Jim spoke out from walking in the soil with the flashlight searching for something in the darkness. These weren't any snowflakes. These small white piles and snowflakes on the ground were the remnants of the Upside Down itself. Jim knew what these little motherfuckers could to you pretty well - last time he breathed some in, he collapsed and fainted in the veins leading under one of the farms in the Hawkins suburbs. - "It shouldn't be toxic to breathe them in since there's not a lot of them. Just don't poke it or anythin'."

You watched him still searching for something in the dark - until he bumped into a machine of sorts. Slowly, he put a red handle down, which made a mechanism of work again. A huge iron wheel above you started spinning, making cranky and annoying sounds since it wasn't oiled in ages. While Hopper was managing the machinery, you were having a small expedition to look around. You were walking carefully with small steps, dodging the piles of spores on the ground. That place was scary - and the void of darkness around you was making it even more terrifying. You saw something yellow next to your leg - just to find out that it was a part of a full-body rubber suit. To your surprise, it was the helmet. That was what they had to wear to breathe here before? You had just a scarf on... Jesus.

How much of that white shit was there previously? Obviously, there was way more since there was a fucking gate to some different dimension opened.

Suddenly, you lost balance and you felt your leg slipping off from a cliff. You yelled loudly, feeling the rest of your body following your leg and for a second, you were terrified that you'll fall into the darkness. That was when Hopper's palm caught your jacket, pulling you back, accidentally kicking a pile of these snowflakes, making them fly around you. He tore off his scarf, making sure your mouth and nose are secluded before he covered his face with his jacket.

"Stay close. The cliff is maybe half a mile, even a whole mile long." - Jim muttered trough the jacket, offering you a hand. You nodded and caught it, not thinking about how angry you were with him at the moment. Hopper was making sure you can see where your stepping while you still held the splitters you snatched your dad. Only that was making you slightly better.

For a while, you stood there in silence and listened only to the quiet sounds coming from below you and to the shrieks the machinery was made. It turned out to be a kind of an elevator on a pulley which was dragging it up and down. With a short exhale, you stepped into the elevator, not letting Hopper's hand go, not even for a small moment. He pulled another lever, making the elevator shake when it started to move again. This time, it was going back into the void where it came from with you in it.

The shrieks of the machinery were slowly fading as the void had consumed it as well. After a while, you noticed that Hopper was shining light onto something. It was a huge crack in the soil wall in front of you which was somehow sealed up. This was the place where Eleven had fought the Mind Flayer.

And it wasn’t a normal crack in the soil, it wasn’t caused by any landslide or anything like that. It seemed to be sealed off, pressed together unnaturally.

"Oh Jesus..." - You mumbled through the fabric of Jim's scarf, looking right in front of you because you couldn't see anything else. You couldn't tear your eyes off of the crack, feeling your heart-stopping inside your chest. You turned your head at Hopper, staring at his jaw.

You didn’t know if you’re more angry, terrified, or surprised. You were pretty angry since Hopper knew about all of that and he, neither any other person you knew, had told you about this. You were terrified since all of that... That was... Insane. You now believed, at least partially, that Hopper wasn’t fucking with you.

“Do you finally believe I haven’t lost my mind?” - Hopper asked, still looking at the crack in the soil. Without hesitation, you nodded and held his hand even tighter. - “I have more to show you. We need to go to the cabin now.”

You did as you were told; both of you got back to the control room and walked back the same route through the facility - it was still looking as creepy as before, but you felt better because even if you didn’t go to the tunnels under Hawkins, the cave was one of the scariest places you have even been in.

When you sat down in the car, you immediately started the heating - you knew that you felt cold in there, but you didn’t realize that you were cold. Before you rode away from the building, you waited until your fingers got a bit warm because these bad boys were cold as ice.

You still remembered the way to the cabin - but you knew that you cleaned it off with El, Steve, Jonathan, and Joyce. The items that could be still put into use you gave up to charity, the rest you took to the dump. The cabin had huge tears in its roof, the snow was falling in - but strangely, it still felt like home to you. All it took was one look and the memories flew over your head.

Jim expected it to be completely cleaned, just as you told him, but he didn't expect the cabin to be as badly damaged as it was. He took a moment to look at it, letting the memories fly over your head as well. It was his granddad’s cabin and now... It was a miracle that it didn’t collapse. But just as he assumed, you hadn’t found his small spot under the wooden floor. He took three boxes from under it - one called New York, another called Hawkins National Laboratory, and the other two carrying the names Dad and Vietnam. Without asking, you helped him carry the boxes into the car, riding back to your parents’ house.

There, you both sad in front of the fireplace with a hot cup of coffee only in your pajamas to get at least a fucking bit warmer. First, you opened up the Hawkins Lab box - and holy fuck, you did almost choke on your coffee. Hopper had everything - taped of audio you listened to, recorded by some doctor Brenner who was talking about Eleven’s progress with her telepathic abilities. He had photos of her, which made you cry even more. Jesus, she was tiny, too skinny, and her hair... Her head was shaved in a military-like style. Hop showed her drawings, photos of Brenner, some more documents. But these hadn’t a word blacked out. You could perfectly read what was written on it.

The Hawkins Lab box made you throw up. And you had to say that Hopper was a lot of things, lunatic not being one of them.

“I have to say... I owe you an apology. I mean, are you even surprised that I reacted the way I did?” - You asked, being ashamed of yourself. You were willing to trust even the story about Russians - if you didn’t, Hopper would gladly let you call Murray for that matter. But you did.

“It would still be fine to hear some other people than me sayin’ it out loud. We can visit the Wheelers tomorrow, meet the kids there so you can have the full picture. They'll surely answer the rest of your questions.” - Hopper smiled sadly, knowing how it insane all of it could appear to be. You nodded without hesitation and let Hopper call Karen to let her know. Her mind was officially blown - Hopper alive and well in Hawkins? Hold your damn horses. Nobody was expecting that.

When he was gone, you peeked into another box - the one named New York. You smiled tenderly when the first thing you saw was, presumably, Sara’s drawing of a house, him and Diane. There were a lot of documents and some Zeno cards, these were tied with the Card murders. You smiled, even more, when you took out his old personal patch of NYC detective batch along with a nameplate. Both having Detective James Hopper carved in. Your man was a true New York detective.

You freaked out when you heard him stopping behind you just when you held a photo of him, Sara and Diane in your fingers.

“I’m sorry, I was just curious. I’ll put it...” - You mumbled, but fingers around your wrist stopped you from doing so. Jim's palm copied yours and you could feel his chest bumping into your back. He wasn't directly holding you in his arm, nor he intended to, but it felt nice.

"That's Sara's sixth birthday. We were in this boujee place of some rich people and I didn't, for the love of God, know where to sit with my wine and I didn't want to mess their place up. Summer of '77." - Jim sighed and you could hear that he got lost in his memories for a while.

"She's cute. I would like to meet her." - You answered just as quietly. You were talking about Sara, of course. She had blonde hair and doll-like blue eyes. Jim smiled, looking at the profile of your face, noticing every small detail. He noticed how beautiful your lips were looking, how long eyelashes you had and your nose was such a gentle contour... You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on.

"She was amazin' and she would love you. That's somethin' I'm sure of. But maybe I wouldn't have got the chance to meet you if..." - His breath hitched and he looked away from the photo. You knew what he's trying to say, so you just put the photo into the box. As soon as you were bent over the box, you missed the warmth of his body on your back. You made him jump a bit when you suddenly laughed out loud.

"And look at these bad boys!" - You exclaimed and got up, holding a piece of vinyl in your fingers. Before Jim could realize what you had found, first notes were already playing. You found his guilty pleasure - about ten of Jim Croce's vinyl records. Back in the day, he was listening to them so much that Diane had mesmerized all the texts by her heart. - "I mean, my grandpa has all of these, but who am I to judge?" - You grinned at the first chords of You Don't Mess Around With Jim.

This song happened to be Jim's trait over the last couple of years. Everyone in Hawkins knew that Chief loved that fucking song. Especially after night and after having a good laid, he was screaming the song all over the fucking city when he was driving to the station. Which was pretty bald when you considered that he could sing for shit.

"Uptown got its hustlers, the bowery got its bums. 42nd street got Big Jim walker - he's a pool shootin' son of a gun. Yeah, he big and dumb as a man can come. But he stronger than a country hoss." - You sang with such passion that it barely called in with how cold you were acting the last two days. Honestly, it made Jim grin.

"Come, are you a fossil to just sit there and watch me making a total dumbass out of myself in front of you?" - You stopped suddenly, furrowing so hard that you had a wrinkle on your forehead. Croce was still singing the rest of the song, slowly getting to the chorus itself.

"I thought you're angry with me." - Jim asked quietly, shifting into a more comfortable position, watching you dancing to the rhythm. You stopped and put your hands on your hips, having a rather expressionless face.

"I will be fucking angry again if you won't get up and dance with me, James. This is supposed to be a kind of a... Peace settling and you're not getting it. Come on." - You said coldly and offered him a helping hand, starting to sing the chorus, knowing every single word.

"You don't tug on superman's cape. You don't spit into the wind. You don't pull the mask off that ol' lone ranger - and you don't mess around with Jim." - Adding a little "parararum" at the end of the chorus. And so, Jim gave in a danced with you for a while. After that, you settled down in front of the fireplace, going through the boxed as you listened to Jim Croce playing other songs from his best album.

Jim showed you tons of photos of Sara and told you short stories of what happened the days the photos were taken. It didn't matter how long you've known each other and what have you talked about... It didn't matter how much heart-to-heart talks you had before, this heart-to-heart memory sharing felt like the first real talk you ever head with each other. He never spoke to you about Sara and Diane as calmly as he did that night.

You spoke hundreds, thousands of words. Sometimes, you were just sitting there, hours in a row, letting him speak, and get lost in his memories. He even felt courageous enough to show you his medal from Vietnam and his photo from Vietnam. He was such a young boy there. You couldn't even believe that your man once looked like that. You were laughing like crazy at the funny stories from Vietnam, you were deadly serious when he told you the gross stuff in detail. Once, you even started crying because of the terrible things he had described. The other stuff was disgusting, that couldn't be denied.

To brighten up the overall mood again, you showed him your childhood photos - the ones where Steve Harrington was running naked around the pool and the one you loved the most. It was the day when you got Lady for your birthday. She was there, laying just a few feet away from you, sleeping. Then you out the other family album where you had photos of him and El - at least the ones which you managed to save from the rampaged cabin. There was still the drawing El gave you on the independence day - it was torn apart, pasted together by see-through tape.

You went to sleep pretty late - it was almost three a.m. and the snow was quietly falling behind the window. The fire was burning just a bit, not even warming you up at that point. It was time to call it a night - especially for Jim, who didn't fall asleep the day before.

Something was bugging you off when you laid down in your room and put the blanket over your head. Every time you closed your eyes something urged you to open them again. After half an hour, you were pissed and got up, walking to the guest room to find out if Hopper's still awake or if he has already fallen asleep. First, he seemed to sleep, but then he massaged his eyes and leaned into his elbow.

"What? You havin' some nightmares, you can't sleep, or do you have more questions?" - Hopper mumbled sleepily. So he was asleep, but you managed to wake him up. He never was waking up so easily, but you didn't comment on it.

"I just can't fall asleep even if I'm dying for some good sleep." - You yawned and smiled at him. - "See you in the morning, yeah? Sorry for waking you up, Hop." - You slowly closed the door, getting ready to watch some movie or something like that so you could fall asleep during that.

"You sure you're good? I've shown you some wild shit today, I'm not surprised you can't fall asleep." - Jim smiled sloppily. - "Get your pillow and other shit here, this bed's big enough so you don't have to be worried about some touches or somethin' like that." - Hopper jokes and to both your and his surprise, it made you chuckle. But you did what you were told - just a while after that, you were tiptoeing into the king-sized bed. You couldn't fall asleep for another hour while Hopper just died next to you. He had a coma basically and he was snoring loudly.

But for the first time in a long time, you didn't mind a bit of Jim's snoring didn't ruin your mood - it meant that Hopper is sleeping safe and sound next to you and that nothing bad is going to happen to him. At least that night.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

More Time - Chpt.8

Summary: Faced with an entire day to himself while Bucky is off at work, Steve finds himself struggling to fill his time. After a long afternoon at home he talks himself into going back the bar to see a certain redheaded bartender. Master list is HERE.

Warnings/ Content: Brief mention of Steve having poor body image.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I am so in love with the 70 degree weather right now that I can’t even think of anything clever to say about this chapter. Please know that as soon as this is posted I will be retreating back outdoors to my super awesome lawn chair to bask in the warm sun until I absolutely positively have to go in to feed my kids. Hope it’s nice where you are too and that you got to enjoy some sun today. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Eight

Steve felt oddly out of place the following Monday when Bucky was off to work and he wasn’t due back to the VA until the next day. He had his appointment with Bruce and Helen in the morning but that went quickly and he was still as healthy as he would ever be. He wandered around a few museums Bucky had gifted him with memberships to but that only filled a few hours of his morning. Steve was avoiding texting Bucky, not wanting to feel like a desperate little housewife, but he was running out of things to occupy himself with. He settled for watching a movie with General while he ate lunch. He heated up some leftover chicken and ended up sharing it with the cat who sat politely next to Steve waiting patiently for any scraps he was willing to share. After the movie, Steve holed himself up in his studio letting his art carry him away for the rest of the afternoon; he figured he could at least be productive that way.

It was past dinner time when Steve’s phone lit up with a ping of an incoming message.

Jerkface [6:42:17PM]: hey bb how r u?

Stevie G [6:42:26PM: I’m good. How did things go today?

Jerkface [6:43:48PM]: long tiring ready 2 b home

Stevie G [6:44:03PM]: What time are you guys getting in? 

Jerkface [6:44:36PM]: leaving @ 1930 3hr flight

Stevie G [6:44:57PM]: Okay, I’ll probably still be up when you get back. Miss you.

Jerkface [6:45:04PM]: miss u 2 give general a pet 4 me

Steve sighed, he didn’t expect a day on his own to feel so long. He wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of sharing another lonely meal with the cat but his stomach rumbled and he knew he needed to figure out dinner sooner rather than later. Steve wondered what the odds were that Emma, the bartender from Friday, would be working again if he stopped in for dinner. He did want to apologize for his behavior despite Bucky insisting he hadn’t been as terrible as he feared. Steve slowly talked himself into going as he packed away his paints. The food there was decent and he had liked the cozy feel of the place, it would be nice to get out for a bit since Bucky wouldn’t be home until late. 

General Meow looked up from his spot on the bed and watched with bored disinterest as Steve searched through the closet. He wasn’t dressing up, he told himself, he just couldn't go out in paint splattered clothes. He had been meaning to try out some of the soft, heavy dress pants he’d bought for the winter anyway. And if he was wearing dress pants, well then he couldn’t just put on a tee shirt. Steve adjusted the collar of his blue checkered shirt, tugged at the hem of the navy blue sweater he’d put on over top of it, standing back to assess himself in the full length mirror. He looked kind of nice, he mused. He tried to focus on the things he did like about himself as his therapist had taught him to do but it was difficult when all he saw was what was wrong. He tried reframing his negative thoughts and found that equally exhausting. 

Logically he knew his thick glasses made his eyes stand out, and he had always liked his eyes. Just like he knew the layer of softness across his middle meant he was healthy and no longer underweight. But staring at himself in the mirror, he wished he’d given the contact lenses another try and was thankful that the heavy sweater covered him well enough that he could pretend he still had a toned body underneath it. 

Steve shook his head at himself, when did he get so vain? He turned to the cat who had gone back to napping, “I’ll be back in a little bit, General.” He told him. The cat opened an eye to acknowledge he had been spoken to but went right back to napping. Steve bundled on his winter coat and gloves, grabbing Bucky’s scarf too at the last minute because it was cold outside and not because it smelled like Bucky and Steve missed him. 

It was a short but bitter cold walk down the block to Matty’s Bar and Steve’s lungs were protesting fiercely by the time he got inside. He fumbled with his inhaler and his gloves, finally getting two good puffs in to loosen up the tightness in his chest the icy winter air had caused. Sighing a heavy breath of relief Steve started unzipping his coat and finally looked down the bar to see if Emma was working. He jumped, almost knocking over the stool next to him, when he realized Emma was standing directly across from him; watching with an amused expression. 

“Hey Steve.” Emma said, giving him that same sympathetic smile she’d given on Friday when he’d let the bourbon go to his head. Emma had watched him race inside from the cold and struggle to get his breathing under control. She wanted to ask him if he was okay but he’d finally gotten his inhaler out and she waited while he got himself back under control. 

“Hey.” Steve replied trying to pretend he hadn’t just jumped like an idiot, “Emma, right?”

“Yeah. It’s good to see you again. You want a Makers Mark?” 

“No!” Steve said a little too loudly. Real smooth, Rogers, he chided himself. “No, just a coke please. Friday was… a special night out.” 

Emma giggled lightly at his outburst and nodded in understanding while she poured him a coke from the soda gun. “Bucky said you guys were celebrating. So what brings you back again so soon?” There were no other patrons at the bar and Emma took advantage of the lull to lean on the glossy wood top and enjoy herself watching Steve flounder for words. It was endearing the way even the tips of his ears burned bright when he blushed. 

“Well, I wanted to apologize for… um…  for getting a little drunk on Friday. Your job is tough enough as it is, let alone adding a drunk guy to the mix. I appreciate how kind you were even when I couldn't hold my liquor.” 

Emma wanted to hug him, he was so earnest but so misguided. Steve had been a delight compared to other guys who couldn't hold their alcohol, and even most who could. “You did not come all the way down here in the cold just to apologize to me.” 

Steve nodded, his head bowed in embarrassment. 

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” Emma whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer to Steve on his good side after noticing the tiny hearing aid in his other ear. 

Steve nodded again, eyebrows quirked up in interest. 

Emma was so close to Steve he could smell the soft lavender of her perfume when she whispered. “Seeing Captain America tipsy and giggling was the best part of my entire night.” 

Steve leaned back, a little heartbroken at her words despite their good intent. 

Emma frowned, picking up on his reaction to something she said. Maybe she had overstepped? She knew she came across as too flirty at times and, while it was great for tips as a bartender, sometimes it had some unintended consequences. Steve was so handsome though, moreso now than in any picture she’d seen of him in books and documentaries. Emma prayed she hadn’t offended him somehow. She pathetically hoped that he would keep coming in so she could pine quietly from afar over him, and Bucky too if she was being honest with herself.  

Steve tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone when he explained, “Well, sorry to disappoint, but it’s just Steve Rogers now. Not an ounce of super anything left in me.” 

Emma cringed, realizing her misstep. “Oh, no. I just meant… because you always seem so…” she waved her hands trying in vain to explain herself, “So… stern? Maybe that’s not it, but every picture I’ve ever seen of you seemed so stiff and dutiful. I always wondered if you ever got the chance to just be a normal guy.” 

Steve was stunned at her explanation. “No, things were pretty much go-go-go after I got the serum.” 

“I’m really sorry. That sounds pretty shitty.” Emma reached out and surprised both of them when she covered his hand with hers, clasping it tightly for a moment. 

“I was just trying to do my part.” Steve told her with a shrug.

“So I’ve read. But you’re still a person at the end of the day.” 

“You ever been told you have a very unique perspective on things?” 

Emma laughed, “Yeah, a couple of times. I’m glad you’re taking it easy now though. You deserve it. And you Bucky seem really happy together. Is he your…?” 

Steve nodded quickly, delighted he could share this so openly in public. “He’s my partner, yeah.” 

“Good for you guys. Gives us painfully single people hope.” 

Steve wanted to ask how someone so lovely could be single but he kept his inner Casanova to himself; that was Bucky’s forte, not his. Instead, he gave her a half smile and navigated the conversation to dinner, letting her talk him into a breakfast burger which sounded ridiculous but she insisted was worth trying. 

Steve was thankful it was a Monday night and the icy weather had kept everyone else at home. He loved every minute Emma spent leaning on the bar chatting with him while he ate his meal. She even caved in after a bit and took the fries he kept pushing towards her. It was surprisingly easy to talk to her and Steve found himself opening up more than he meant to at times. She wasn’t hung up on his former mantel of Captain America, her questions all centered around Steve himself and her interest seemed genuine. Steve ended up hanging out for a while after his meal was done just to spend time talking and she didn’t seem to mind at all. He was stunned when his phone pinged with a new message from Bucky letting him know he’d be home in twenty. 

“I’m so sorry, I took up your whole night! I gotta get back, Bucky is on his way home from work.” Steve told her while he pulled out his wallet to pay. 

Emma tried to hold back her disappointment that Steve was leaving. She had enjoyed his company so much on what would have otherwise been a boring Monday night. Emma hated the way reality came crashing back in. Steve, though charming and sweet and so quietly handsome, was not hers. He had a man he loved to get back home to and she would be heading home to her quiet apartment to read a book and water the little family of succulents who lived in her living room windowsill. Emma realized she had been quiet too long and startled herself back to the present. “It’s okay, Steve. You were good company tonight. I’ll get your check.” 

Steve smiled at her fondly and she stamped down the ache in her heart. Emma bid him goodnight, asking him to tell Bucky hello for her and to come back anytime he needed company. She watched him hurry out the door into the cold and sighed heavily, resigning herself to her quiet solitary existence. 

Bucky was surprised to find Steve in the kitchen when he arrived home a little before ten. His hands were frigid when he hugged him and the tips of his nose and ears were tinged pink and also icy cold. “Did you just get home?” Bucky asked in disbelief. 

Steve looked almost guilty, “I went out for a burger, it was too quiet around here and General isn’t a great conversationalist.” 

“Where did you go?”

“Just down to Matty’s Bar. Emma was working again tonight. She says hello by the way.” 

Bucky stared at Steve for a long minute. There he was, dressed all nice and having spent what must have been a few hours with the gorgeous girl they had both been mooning over a little. “You’re lucky I’m so secure with myself and our relationship. Otherwise I’d be wondering why you’re dressed like you’re meetin’ my mother and spending a night in the company of a beautiful woman.” 

Steve was too easily rattled and fell for the ribbing. “Buck, you know I love you. I learned my lesson; God did I ever. You’re it for me. You have to know that.” 

Bucky hugged Steve tightly, pressing firm kisses on the top of his fluffy golden hair. “I was just teasin’ ya. Besides, it’s not like we never brought a girl back for some fun before. Emma’s a real looker.” 

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? And she’s so sweet. She spent the whole night keeping me company, asking questions about me and not about my time with the shield.” 

“Feeling a little smitten there, huh?” 

“Just a little. She’s too good for us though, Buck.” 

“No one’s too good for you. But maybe I’ll go try a burger from Matty’s on my night off.” Bucky said it in jest but after it was out he considered it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

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[pagesoflauren]

Siren’s Call (Steve Rogers x reader; Pirate AU) - Ch. 4

Warnings: mentions of hanging/execution, swearing, Steve is an idiot

Previous Chapter

Steve spent the better part of the night spewing details of your face at the sketch artist, making sure everything was correct. When the man handed him the third draft of your sketch, Steve frowned.

“No, no, this is wrong,” he sighed.

“Captain, I followed all your descriptions about her.”

“I’m aware of that, but you got her chin wrong. It’s not as pointed. It looks too narrow here.”

He didn’t look up from the page to see the perplexed stares he got from everyone in the room, including Bucky. 

“And the, um,” he began, lightly tapping his top lip, “the thing, this little divet on her lips. It’s more pronounced.”

“Her...Cupid’s bow, Captain?” 

“Yes, her Cupid’s bow.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky interjected, finally drawing Steve’s attention to him, “Captain, how do you know that?”

Steve hopes the flushing of his face isn’t so pronounced in the candlelight. How could he possibly explain that when he closes his eyes, he sees your face? He sees your smug smile when you know you’ve beat him, how one cheek has a more pronounced dimple than the other. He sees the coy look in your eyes when you look at him or the texture of your hair, wavy from years of being surrounded by the salty air of the ocean. 

“I just know, okay, Barnes?” he manages to say. He keeps his tone even, which even he is surprised by. 

Bucky doesn’t question it any further. 

Steve looks around at the confused looks of everyone before he slams the sketch on the desk. “Well, fix it! And I want it on every port in the Caribbean,” he commands.

“Captain, you forget your place--” the Commodore starts.

“I assure you I haven’t. This woman is dangerous. She is conniving and who knows what other trouble she’ll stir up with us? It’s like she lives to target the Navy, especially me! But I won’t have it anymore. I won’t stop until she’s hanging on the gallows on the beach as an example to all other damned pirates in the fucking Caribbean!” 

His rant is meant with silence.

“I’m sure we can accommodate your request, Captain Rogers,” the Commodore said awkwardly, trying to ease the tension that floated in the air of the room. 

Steve huffs and nods, angrily putting on his hat and marching out of the room.

“Barnes!” he barked.

Bucky followed after him.

Once back on the Avenger, Steve continued to bark orders to his crew, rousing them from sleep to shove off from the dock immediately, demanding a heading from Wilson. 

“Come on, Wilson, we don’t have all night, the longer we wait, the further away she gets.” 

“Beg your pardon, Captain, but there’s not much to go off of. From what I can gather based on the direction she ran in, the ship was docked in a lagoon on the other side of the island, mostly used by pirates to secretly make port. They could be anywhere between here and the next major port.” 

“Well, pick an island and tell us where to go,” he said exasperatedly, walking off to the quarterdeck. 

Bucky met eyes with the poor man who was trying his best.

“It’s alright, Sam,” he clapped him on the shoulder, “He’s been acting so odd all night since the fight.”

“You’d think he’d try to take it easy after something like that,” Sam replied, eyeing the Captain’s bandaged wrist and thigh. 

Bucky didn’t have much of a reply, other than shrugging. Sam went back to his maps and the first mate walked up the steps to the quarterdeck to stand next to his Captain.

“May I ask what that display was in the Commodore’s office?” Bucky asked, imitating his Captain’s stance, feet shoulder width apart, shoulders back, eyes straight, staring at the dark sea only illuminated by the silver light of the crescent moon. 

Steve inhaled deeply. “I can’t let her keep besting me.” 

“Is that all that it is?” Bucky asked suspiciously.

“What are you suggesting, Barnes?” the Captain turned to look at his first mate, eyes narrowed.

“It’s not usual for a naval officer to become extremely determined to capture one particular pirate...much less memorize every minute detail of said pirate’s face.” 

“What does this have to do with me?”

“I just can’t help but wonder if…” Bucky trailed off, unsure of whether or not to continue, unnerved at the idea of how his Captain would react.

“If what?” 

“...if there’s possibly another reason for your motivation.” 

Steve scoffed, “Well what other reason could there be?” he asked, turning his gaze back to the sea.

The brunet allowed himself to slip into ease, chuckling and looking down at his feet. “Forget that I even mentioned it.” 

Steve huffed again, looking expectantly at Sam as he approached him with a heading. He began shouting commands, the three men watching as the ship came to life, unfurling the sails and pushing away from the dock. Steve watched as Sam approached the helm, giving it a good turn as the ship headed to its next stop in pursuit of you.

“Captain, it’s best you stay on the ship.”

“And what? Let my crew make a fool of themselves when they get into the inevitable drunken quarrel?”

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” R replied, “and we’ll only stay for one night, anyway.” 

You raised a quizzical brow at him.

“I promise! We can’t risk someone seeing the ship. Those wanted posters are everywhere.”

Ah yes. 

You had seen them not long after your fight in the streets with Captain Rogers. Printed on parchment and on nearly every wall on every building at every port you’ve stopped at since then. Written in obnoxious letters under the word “Wanted” was the phrase “by order of Captain Rogers of His Majesty’s Navy.” Though your face was detailed and captured your likeness extremely well, you noticed the idiot didn’t even know your name. He referred to you as “The Captain of The Siren’s Call.” You and R had a long laugh about that. 

Jokes aside, you needed to tread carefully. You’d taken to tucking your hair into your hat and wearing a scarf around the lower half of your face. Few old friends from taverns and inns had maintained their loyalty to you, swearing they wouldn’t turn you in. Others, however, claimed that if you ever showed your face again, they’d hand you over.

When you rolled your eyes, he mirrored your expression. To add to the danger of you being recognized, he reminded you of something. 

“You remember the last time we made port here?” he asked, “You got into a fight at the local tavern!”

“Which is why I didn’t want to make port here,” you pointed out.

“Captain, we won’t last another day at sea without restocking. We need more bread and medicine.”

“Right,” you conceded, taking a seat. “Don’t get into any trouble.” 

The night was peaceful. Quiet moments on the ship were rare, though with just you on the ship hiding away, you grew bored quickly. 

You sat on the floor of the quarterdeck, looking up at the stars, remembering how you used to do this with your father. 

“They’re just dots in the sky, father.”

“And the islands are just shapes on a map,” he had chuckled. “Maps can lead you astray. The world will change. New islands will be discovered. But the stars will always be the same. They’ll always guide you.” 

You smiled to yourself at the memory of your father pointing at constellations telling you what they meant and the stories behind them. He told you how the stars moved throughout the night and the year, coming and going with the seasons. He taught you everything you could know about sailing.

Your memories overtook your senses, though you were jarred when a deep voice spoke.

“Captain of The Siren’s Call, in the name of His Majesty, for the crime of theft and piracy, you are under arrest.”

You still managed to smirk, even as you turned to face him. 

“Captain Rogers,” you say wistfully, “here to rescue me from the pirates again?”

Next Chapter

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