#also! Steve’s deal with taking so long to get home is me projecting! because when I get overwhelmed I often end up just Sitting In The Car

[xenon-demon]

WIP Wednesday ✒️

Tagged by @stobinesque - thank you so very much!!

RULES:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

WIPs:

steddie domestic hairwashing

steve overstimulation projection manifesto

cheerscoops fake dating season 3 au (steddie/buckingham)

when you come back, it's gravity (kas!steve au)

med student steve & nurse eddie who is sick of his shit

Gonna be real with y’all, the only WIP I’ve wrote anything for in the last week is #2 because it’s been A Week. (Also don’t let the WIP name fool you I mean overstimulation in the autistic kind of way, not the kink way lmao)

No pressure whatsoever buuuut I’m gonna tag @onirislanding and @sailors-ink!

Snippet from “steve overstimulation projection manifesto” (under a cut for length):

This time, however, his alarm clock says it’s only 1:27 AM. What’s more, it was even on his nightstand this time. Sure, Eddie had to move a bunch of papers from his campaign planning and a magazine or two he’d haphazardly dumped there to be able to read it, but it was actually on the nightstand. Where it belongs. Eddie’s really winning in the game of life tonight.

His winning streak only continues as he hears the shuffle of footsteps and the squeak of the trailer door closing behind Steve. Because at this time, Eddie knows it has to be his boyfriend; Family Video closes at midnight on Saturday nights. Factor in the time it takes Steve to close up shop and then drive over to the trailer, and there you have- wait.

It definitely doesn’t take an hour and half for Steve to get home after work – even if Saturday is one of their busiest nights.

Eddie is suddenly struck by the realization that it’s one of those nights.

“Stevie? Sweetheart?” Eddie calls out. He starts standing up, gingerly stepping over the notebook and loose pages scattered around his feet so he doesn’t crush them. He’s got probably three half-songs’ worth of chords and tentative lyrics in there somewhere, he doesn’t want to lose them. By the time he’s done that, put his guitar down, and quickly scooped all his papers into a rough pile he can sort through later, Steve’s entered his bedroom.

He doesn’t even spare Eddie a glance before immediately planting face-first onto his mattress.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie coos, coming over to sit next to Steve on the bed. Steve makes a noise in acknowledgement, although it’s heavily muffled by the mattress. “Stevie, can I touch you?” Eddie gets another muffled noise in response to that, but this one sounds distinctly like an uh-huh. Taking the confirmation for what it is – this is not Eddie’s first rodeo with nights like these, after all – he reaches out and rubs a firm hand up and down Steve’s back.

Steve sighs contentedly at the contact, some of the tension slowly leeching out of his muscles. They sit like that for a few moments, Eddie half massaging him and half just letting him know he’s there, before Steve says something else. He says it directly into the mattress, just like before, so Eddie doesn’t understand a single word of it.

“Wanna try that again, sweetheart?”

Steve lets out an enormous sigh, and then turns his head to the side to face Eddie. “Wan’ you to lay on me,” he says, and it still comes out a bit slurred. Whether it’s from the way Steve’s cheek is still smushed into the mattress, or talking is just a bridge too far for his baby right now, Eddie doesn’t know and frankly, does not care.

“Sure thing. You want your work uniform off first?”

“Just the vest.” Steve’s eyes are shut, and there’s a faint frown between his brows. It’s adorable, and Eddie knows he’s going to do something stupid like bite Steve if he keeps looking at his gorgeous face, so he quickly busies himself with removing Steve’s work vest. It only takes the gentlest of encouragement for Steve to move his arms as needed, Eddie trying his best to take off the vest without making Steve feel unnecessarily constricted. As he does so, he hears Steve taking some deep breaths in and out, and he smiles.

That’s one of the things they both find helpful, when they get overwhelmed like this; taking a moment to just breathe, as deep as you can. Slowly, in and out, and feel the stretch of your chest expanding each time you breathe in. It’s grounding – and plus, it’s harder to freak out about something when you’re physically forcing yourself not to hyperventilate. Eddie knows he and Steve have very different levels of success on that front, though.

Now that Steve’s vest is gone, however – and Eddie’s just flung it somewhere across the room, deciding it’s Future Eddie and Steve’s problem – it’s time for what his darling boyfriend actually asked for.

[sp0o0kylights]

Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 

They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 

His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 

This is his golden ticket. 

The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 

He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.

 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.

No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 

He's fucked. 

He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 

 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 

If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.

Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 

"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 

Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)

"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 

Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 

"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 

Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 

"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.

Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 

Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 

Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 

Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 

The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.

Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 

("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 

Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 

Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 

"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 

Eddie flipped him off.) 

One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.

No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 

Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 5

Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Ranting about Ozzy Osbourne counts as flirting, right?

5.7 words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

a/n: I wanted to get this chapter out before Flight of Icarus on Halloween. I am MILKING that preview we got for all it's worth. I want y'all to know in this chapter I am projecting HARD on what I think the book will be like and how it will affect Eddie. Also say thank you to @hellfiredarling and @crocwork-clockodile because without them, this wouldn't have gone past 2 chapters. Also shout out to @hellfiredarling for letting me borrow her OC Tara for this fic as well. 💜

WARNINGS: This chapter discusses the Ozzy Osbourne Bat Incident. Nothing is really talked about in graphic detail, but I figured I'd throw that out there, just in case.

Eddie Munson would never consider himself a homewrecker. He was a lot of things; a freak, a metal head, the occasional dealer, a musician, but never a homewrecker. 

But he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy flirting with you as Steve was right there. Steve hadn’t even made any sort of move to make it clear that you were actually on a date anyway. Eddie had expected some sort of reaction from Steve from the banter that bounced between the two of you, but he’d only sat back and watched. 

You were far too good for Harrington anyway. 

But he could have figured that out the second time the two of you had met so many years ago. You didn’t remember Eddie, and he didn’t blame you too much for that. You had been in a rough state that time, shaken up and worried out of your mind. Hell, Eddie himself could barely remember the first meeting it had been so long ago. 

He couldn’t help himself though, not when you showed an interest in his band, his club, and (he was starting to hope) him. The back and forth between the two of you had excited him. He swore (lied) to himself that he was only flirting and chatting with you to annoy Harrington, and the last thing he had expected was for you to start flirting back. It was night and day compared to Sidequest Day. Eddie completely forgot about Steve the second you mentioned WASP as a favorite band. He probably could have stood there all night, asking you how you fell into the genre, what songs you add to your mix tapes, and bragging not-so-subtly about his band and guitar skills. 

But reality always shows up, and Eddie was needed to fix the amp again. It was old and beat to hell and back, but it was all he could afford to fix. A new amp would always be out of the question unless the Hideout decided to start paying the high schoolers for their performance every week. 

He made his way to the van to grab his toolbox (Wayne’s toolbox, but he insisted that Eddie keep it in his van) when he realized that he was an idiot. Shit, he’d offered you a ride home, and he was really hoping you’d take him up on that offer, intoxicated or not. 

The back of the van was gutted, making it far easier to transport Gareth’s drum set, the amp, and all of their other equipment to their weekly gig. There was even room for two of his friends to (very illegally) sit back there while one person sat up front with him. 

Would you even want a ride home like that? Eddie had no problem forcing everyone else to ride in the back while you rode shotgun. Then it was the long ride to Gareth’s place to drop everything off, then dropping off Jeff and Zack. 

He could drop you off first, but that would defeat the purpose of offering you a ride. 

Shit. 

Whatever, he’d wing it. He’d figure out the details later after the show. Right now he had to fix the amp again and focus on the music. 

There was a moment before every show, when the janky spotlights would turn on and temporarily blind Eddie, that transported him to another world. Any time he picked up his guitar, be it his electric one or the acoustic, he could feel a charge in the air. Music was as natural as breathing to him, something that just was. 

Someone once asked Eddie, why music? Why this music? 

Because it’s fucking badass. Because it’s an escape to a different world, a different dimension. 

When Eddie played, he didn’t have to be in Hawkins. He didn’t have to be a freak. When he felt the sharp strings press into his fingers he became a Rock God. His music made him feel badass, indestructible, a fucking hero in his mind. 

During a really good show, Eddie could lose himself completely. He could imagine that there was a large crowd cheating his name, his band. The sound of his guitar screeched like a demonic bat, and he could imagine that the audience was looking through a portal to another dimension, watching as Corroded Coffin used their music to kick ass and take names. 

Eddie never thought about what it would be like to look through the other side of the portal. To look back and see someone looking at him the way he imagined it. That was, until the first song started and his eyes met yours through the near empty bar. 

There was a smile on your face, and an intense look in your eyes as you watched him play. The excitement in your eyes couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else. It was the same look that Dustin had given Eddie the first time he made the kid a mix tape, it was the look that his bandmates had when they booked their first gig ever that wasn’t some talent show or open mic night. 

It was the look Eddie had when he held a guitar for the first time. 

Sure, Eddie had fans. At least 5 people would drunkenly cheer for him on Tuesdays. They were mostly older though, blue collar workers who were reliving their youth through Corroded Coffin. Occasionally he could even have a semi-coherent conversation with them about music after the set. Not often though. The sets usually ended with high fives from the band, maybe a pat on the back and a beer slipped over to Eddie. 

The way you were smiling up at him was different though. Even with the drink in your hand you were alert and paying attention to every song and every lyric. Eddie’s voice wasn’t the most well-trained but he let his guitar do most of the work. As they worked through their set, his eyes kept falling back to you. Of course it was easy, considering the fact that you were a cute girl sitting front and center, and most of his other ‘fans’ were by the actual bar on their fourth or fifth round for the night. 

Paige had once mentioned off-handedly that he had the look and the stage presence. She’d even said that he looked good once and that was a compliment that he had ridden the high of until everything came crashing down again. When that dream disappeared along with her, Eddie had gone back to just being the Freak of Hawkins. But, fuck, when you were looking at him like that he could almost believe it again.

When the echoes of the final chord faded into the air and the portal closed, Eddie was left smiling at the one person in the bar that bothered cheering like they meant it. You. 

He took his pick and tossed it to you, and you caught it between your hands like you had with the air hockey puck just a few days ago. Eddie felt a sense of pride as your cheeks darkened, and he hoped it was because of him and not the drink you had been nursing for the past hour. Your eyes darted between him and Steve- oh right. Harrington was here too. Right. 

Eddie turned away and started helping with packing up. The sooner they got the equipment to the van the more time they would have to hang out before curfews for everyone else hit.

During the summer they had gotten away with staying out a bit later, but it was now the school year. That meant they had about twenty minutes to mingle, pack, and head out. The last thing he needed was to piss off Gareth's parents (again) and lose their place to practice. 

Eddie was already on thin ice with the parents of his bandmates and club members, except for Zack’s. He wasn’t gonna push it. 

With everything tucked securely back in his van, Eddie made his way back inside to find you.One of his regulars gave him a clap on the back for a good show and handed him a beer which he gladly accepted. He should back off, stay away when every time he’s seen you in recent memory was with Steve Harrington. But when he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the table still fiddling with the pick between your fingers and finishing off your drink he couldn’t stay away. Steve was nowhere to be found. 

“So, did you enjoy the show?” Eddie asked, taking a seat next to you. You had been lost in thought and jumped slightly. When you realized he was there, you smiled at Eddie as if he was the one person you wanted to see in all of Hawkins. 

“Holy shit, you guys are good!” You said brightly. There was the tiniest slur to your words, made noticeable by how fast you were talking. “Your amp makes a weird sound with your guitar but I don’t think that’s a bad thing and you were going so fast! How’d you get your fingers to do that?!”

Eddie laughed and had you been in a more sober state of mind he might have made some sort of dirty joke about that. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid, and I practice so much it’s second nature to me.” 

You glanced at his calloused fingers and nodded, before looking back at your own. “I don’t have the finger dexterity for that.” you said, moving your fingers around. “See? My pinkie is kind of fucked up.” You gave your fingers a wiggle and your pinkie definitely moved in a more jerky fashion than the rest of your finders. 

“It’s because you don’t use it enough.” Eddie said, grabbing your pinkie and shaking your hand around, making you laugh. “Just start playing guitar for about four hours a day until your fingers bleed and I’m sure you could fix it.”

“That sounds like a lot of work that I don’t have the passion for, so I think I’ll leave all the fingering to you-” You closed your eyes and took a very deep breath as your brain caught up to your mouth. Eddie watched in amusement as you slumped your head to the table. “Can I get a do over?” 

Despite the embarrassment you were laughing, which Eddie took as a good sign. His next move was risky, but he was going to go for it. 

“If you had a g string I could show you how to finger it.” 

“Nooooo!” you groaned through your laughter as you sat back up. “Low hanging fruit, Eddie! That was too easy!” 

“You handed that one to me on a silver platter! I don’t think I’d be allowed to play guitar anymore if I didn’t go for that joke!” Eddie said in mock offense. 

“Eddie, did you know that when you order one drink here, they actually give you three drinks in one glass?” you asked, motioning to your empty cup. “Because I did not.”

He looked over at the bar, and then back to you. “Sam’s working. Yeah, he’s pretty heavy handed with his drinks. Are you good?” 

You gave a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, I can’t drive probably but I’m not blackout wasted or anything.” There was still a slur to your words, but your eyes were still alert enough that he felt confident that you weren’t going to make any decisions that weren’t completely your own.

“So how come I’m the one who offered you a ride home and not your date?” Eddie didn’t want to bring up Harrington, but curiosity always got the better of him in one way or another. 

“Date?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before realization dawned on your face. You looked at Eddie with such intensity that it made him feel nervous for a second. “I am not dating Steve Harrington.” There was firmness in your voice. “He’s dating every other girl in Hawkins.”

“Do you... want him to be dating you?” Eddie wasn’t sure where you were going with this and he took a sip of the beer that he’d been neglecting for the past few minutes. . 

“Ew.” 

That one word had him nearly choking on his beer as it went down the wrong pipe. He made a strained sound between a cough and a laugh and you smacked him on the back a few times with concern before he waved your hand off.

“‘Ew’?” He managed to finally choke out, looking at you in disbelief. “So you’re telling me that you and Steve Harrington just happen to hang out but you aren’t dating?” 

This had to be a joke, some sort of prank where Harrington would pop out of the bathroom, throw his arm around you, and laugh at Eddie for believing for even a second that someone as cool as you was single. 

“We’re just friends and we have a kind of deal going on.” you said, messing with the ice in your empty glass. “I help him and he uh...” Eddie watched as you hesitated and your mind looked for the words. “He helps me get out of the house.”

“I thought you said coming out was your idea?” Eddie tilted his head, watching as your expression changed to one of a kid who’s hand was caught in the cookie jar. 

“I lied.” You said bluntly. “I had no idea about you playing or that you had a band or even that the Hideout had any live music ever. It was Steve’s idea.”

Eddie watched your expression carefully for any sign that you didn’t actually have feelings for Steve. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, knew better than to get his hopes up. The Munson’s weren’t exactly known for being lucky in love, and he was no different. Eddie could count on one hand the amount of times he’d had any sort of romantic connection to a girl and most of those had crumbled to dust in his hands. 

“Harrington brought you here?” He said slowly. “To get you out of the house?”

“I pretty much live at work and home.” you shrugged, sucking the last bit of moisture that had melted in the bottom of your glass. “He’s a good friend. And that’s all he is.” 

Even Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the blatant flag that you were waving over your head. 

SMACK

Two drumsticks came crashing down on the table between the two of you. Eddie didn’t even realize how close you two were getting until Gareth managed to squeeze himself between the two of you, banging his sticks rhythmically on the table. 

“Eddie we gotta go.” Gareth said. “Mom’s gonna kill me if I’m late tonight. Grandma’s visiting.”

“Shit.” Eddie muttered to himself and then looked at you. “Do you still need a ride?” 

He hoped you’d say yes. He hoped you didn’t mind his band while they all drove home so illegally. 

“I think I can’t say no.” You glanced at the drink. “Because that was waaay stronger than I expected it to be and I can alway bully Steve into helping me get my car in the morning.”

“Why was Harrington even here?” Gareth asked, looking at you with confusion. He glanced at Eddie in a questioning manner and a sharp look from Eddie shut him right up. 

“He’s my friend. He left. Said he wasn’t feeling well.” You replied nonchalantly. 

Harrington just left you drunk at a bar?! Eddie looked at you with wide eyes and his mouth hung open. What kind of bullshit friend was that? Henderson had spent so long talking up Steve Harrington, and how he was a total badass and not a dick and he left a friend drunk at a bar? He had been willing to play nice for Dustin, but any chance of that was thrown out the window. 

Eddie stood up, the chair scraping behind him as he tried (badly) to hide his frustration. “We’re giving her a ride home. She gets shotgun.” 

“What?!” Gareth protested, looking at you like you’d personally offended him. “If my parents see me get out of the back-”

“They won’t unless you plan on telling them to wait up for you.” Eddie said firmly. “She’s shotgun.”

There was a look of guilt on your face as you sat there awkwardly. “Mom, Dad, I can sit in the back or I can just stick around her for another hour with some water and I’ll sober up.” 

Eddie grabbed you by the scruff of your jacket and hauled you up quickly. “Nope, you’ve already had one person ditch you tonight. I’m not leaving you drunk in a bar alone.”

He winced internally at how roughly he’d just handled you. Eddie was so used to handling and rough housing with his club that he forgot that he shouldn’t be doing that with other people. But it was so easy with you. The few conversations you’ve had made him feel like you should have been part of Hellfire to begin with. If he ever saw Chris Morrison again, he’d deck him in his smug little nose. 

There was no time for protesting from either you or Eddie as he pushed the two of you out the door and towards his van. It was chilly out, the autumn air biting his skin as he pushed Gareth towards the back of the van. He released your jacket and stepped to open the door of the van for you. 

“After you-” He did his best to give what he hoped was a charming smile as you hopped into the van. He heard Zack mutter something in the back of his van followed by a round of snickering between his bandmates before he closed the door and hopped into the driver side seat. 

Metal came blasting out of the speakers and he fumbled to turn it down so that it didn’t blow your eardrums. 

“Wait no, turn that back up!” you said, reaching for the knob to elevate the voice of Ozzy Ozbourn as it thrummed through the van. 

“So uh, this is my new friend.” Eddie said, hating how that sounded as he tried to break the ice. 

You turned around in your seat immediately and stuck your hand in the back, introducing your name. Eddie was amazed as you wasted no time launching into how great the set was and asking a million questions as to who they were, how they started playing music. 

You weren’t shy, that was for sure. Actually the buzz you had going on made you even more interested in talking to everyone. Soon there was a lively conversation happening, enthusiastically about the tape that was playing. 

“My mom hates Ozzie.” Jeff said. “Says that he’s an animal abuser because he bit the head off that bat.”

“Everyone wants to talk about that, but no one wants to talk about how that happened!” You threw in. 

“What do you mean?” shot back Gareth. “With his fucking teeth!” 

“That’s not what I meant, Dingus!” you snorted. “Where do you think the bat came from?” 

Eddie gave pause and slowed his driving down just a touch. He was already going slow to avoid any cops out, but you had asked a question that he’d never even considered. 

The question gave pause to everyone as they looked at each other with confused shrugs. 

“I thought he just pulled it out of his pants.” Said Zack 

“His pants?!” 

“Why would he keep a bat in his pants?!”

“To pull it out and bite the head off of it, duh!”

“Where else would he keep a bat?”

“I don’t know, a cage?!”

The conversation was delving into chaos and Eddie could see you grinning out of the corner of his eye as you watched them squabble amongst themselves. 

“Maybe it just flew in?” Eddie threw that out there, wishing that he didn’t have to be driving so that he could focus on the mischievous glint in your eyes. 

“It was a closed auditorium, actually.” You smiled at him. “I highly doubt that a bat is just gonna fly into a random building filled with screaming people.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just a random building. It’s a building where Black Sabbath was playing.” Eddie laughed, glancing between you and the road. “Maybe it was a metal fan.”

“Not anymore.” 

“Jesus, Zack” 

“Alright, I’ll bite-”

“The head off a bat?”

“No! Okay, so you clearly know what happened so just spit it out!”

“Like Ozzy did with the bat head?”

“ENOUGH!” Eddie yelled out, hitting the breaks just enough to make the van jerk and you all to have his attention. You laughed as he resumed normal driving, thankful that it was almost 10 pm on a Tuesday night and the roads were dead and empty. “Let her talk.”

The van went quiet after a few apologies and you reached over to turn down the radio. 

“Alright, so,” you started. “I’m just gonna start from the beginning and if you all hear me rant about this once, you’ll probably hear me rant about it a hundred times in the future because this is my go-to drunk rant.” 

You glance at Eddie, and he could see the excitement in your eyes that you got to talk about this with fresh people who would actually appreciate it. 

“So we’ve established that this was a closed auditorium that he was playing in, and this wasn’t planned at all.” you continued. “So the question everyone needs to ask is where the fuck this bat came from. Everyone always talks about it like he reached up and grabbed a random bat out of the air and ate it whole but that’s not what happened. What happened is that a fan threw the bat on stage- mind you, he has no reason to believe that it’s a real bat. He thinks it’s a rubber bat! Who in their right mind would think that someone would throw a real bat on stage?”

“Isn’t Ozzy on every drug ever?” Jeff asked from the back. 

You turned around in your seat to look at him, your finger extended. “You... are absolutely correct and make a very valid point. That aside though, let’s think about this. What kind of person managed to get a live bat, sneak it into a concert, and get close enough to the stage to throw it at Ozzy?”

They were pulling up into Gareth’s neighborhood now, and Eddie drove under the speed limit, stopping fully at every stop sign just to prolong this time together. He was fully invested in the excitement and passion in your voice as you told this story. 

“Who was it?” Eddie asked. 

“Get this- a seventeen year old high school girl.” You said. “A fucking junior in high school, managed to get a live bat, sneak it in, and throw it at Ozzy! That’s insane, right?!”

“What?!”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I have absolutely no clue!” you laughed. “The two interviews I read about it didn’t talk about who she was or anything. They just talked about how Ozzy saw the bat and didn’t realize it was alive until he took a bite! It’s actually kind of fucked up, and Ozzy did not deserve that but holy shit right?”

Eddie pulled into Gareth’s parent’s driveway, and everyone in the back went into band mode as Gareth immediately hopped out of the back and hoped that his parents weren’t watching. You moved back in your set and glanced at Eddie who had to pretend he wasn’t staring a hole into the side of your head. 

“Need any help?” you offered. 

He shook his head, “Just hang tight while we unpack. It’ll only take a second.” 

The boys made quick work of unpacking the drum set and rearranging the back so that the remaining two club members could more comfortably fit for the final leg home. Thankfully Jeff and Zack didn’t live too far from each other. You stayed in the van, zoning out pleasantly to the end of the tape. 

In the garage, Eddie was getting roasted. 

“So now you’re taking home girls after shows, Eddie?” Jeff asked with a shit-eating grin. 

“Next time warn us so we can get a different ride.” grumbled Gareth. 

“She seems nice.” Zack added. 

“Look, it was a last minute thing and she was left alone and drunk in a bar.” Eddie tried to explain as they put up the drum kit. 

“So the only girl you can get is a drunk girl?” ribbed Jeff. 

“A drunk girl who was ditched by a jock- ow!” Gareth rubbed his arm where Eddie had socked him. 

“I told you, it was a last minute thing.” Eddie said more firmly, narrowing his eyes at Gareth. “I’m just making sure she gets home safe.” 

“Wasn’t she also at the arcade last Saturday?” Jeff asked. “Weird how she keeps showing up.”

“If it means we get someone else watching our band, who cares? She liked the set and we need the support.” Zack added. “Night Gareth”

“Night.” Gareth said before closing the garage door. 

They all made their way back into the van, just in time for the cassette to be spat back out for you to flip it over and push play again. The drive to drop off the remaining two members was quieter, as the school day plus the set caught up to them. Eddie was still wired, and he was looking forward to having a joint when he got home to calm himself after everything that had happened tonight. 

When the van was just the two of you, and you gave him directions to your small apartment, there was a comfortable silence between you. Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye at a red light, taking in the way your eyes were closed and your lips were upturned as you soundlessly mouthed the words to the song playing. 

“So, where’d you get your tattoos?” you asked after a few minutes. 

Eddie grinned. “Why? Are you looking to get some ink done?”

“Well, the last time I checked tattooing was illegal in Indiana.” you replied, glancing at the colony of bats flying up his arm. “So have you ever left the state or should I be concerned about whatever shady basement you visit to get those?”

He scrunched his face and blew a raspberry. “Don’t worry about the legalities, are you gonna tell Hopper on me?”

“Scratcher tattoos?” you frowned. “You are so lucky that those didn’t get infected.”

“She did it as a favor for me, she wasn’t some sketchy dude I met in a bar.” Eddie said defensively. “Her name’s Tara, she moved her from California where tattooing is legal, and she’s still technically licensed.” 

“Just not for Indiana.” 

“Not even a little.” he laughed. “But I helped her and she repaid me with these sweet ol’ tatties.”

You snorted into your hand at his verbiage. “How many you got?”

“Three on my arm and two on my chest. I got my first about three months after I turned eighteen when Tara moved in.” He explained. 

“Damn, and here I am looking at leaving the state to get something done legally like some sort of square.” You laughed. 

“So you are looking for some!” Eddie pulled into the parking lot you pointed to, right outside your building. 

“What can I say, I’m a rebel at heart. I shouldn’t be telling you this but I did jaywalk last week.” You smiled up at him, not bothering to move yet from the passenger side seat. 

“Jaywalking? Shit, and here I thought you were a quiet goody two shoes.” He shook his head. “I think you’re gonna be a terrible influence on me.”

“The worst.” you agreed. 

There was a silence that seemed to crackle with the old stereo. Eddie’s eyes met yours and he felt something that he hadn’t felt in almost two years. 

Oh.

Oh shit.

Flashes of his first senior year raced through his mind as he felt something begin again. He would have hoped that when he felt that jolt in his stomach again he’d be alright. Eddie looked at you, his mind racing a million miles per hour over what to do now. 

He had to get out of there. 

You were reaching out for him, shit- he wasn’t ready. Your hand was reaching across for his and gripped it, pulling it towards you. You were making a move and-

Pop

The sound of a maker’s cap reached his ears. Eddie felt the tip of the felt glide over the skin of his forearm, the temporary ink sinking into his skin and spelling out your name and phone number. 

Jesus Christ. What the fuck was that about?

“We should hang out again, on purpose.” you said, putting the marker back in your bag. 

Eddie’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded. Fuck, he needed a joint now. “Fifth time’s a charm.” he said. 

Without another word you gave him a wave and hopped out of the car, towards your unit. He watched to make sure you made it inside before smacking his head against the steering wheel as the night replayed in his mind. 

Sweet ol’ tatties?

Freaking out when he thought you might kiss him?

He knew that everything that happened two years ago would have an effect on him. Anyone who was close to Eddie knew the toll it took on him. He’d always been cynical, but ‘84 changed something deeper. 

Eddie didn’t want that to affect you. 

But he looked at the dried dark green ink on his arm with a sigh. “Dammit.” he muttered to himself before pulling out. 

He shouldn’t drag you into his problems. He should turn around and leave it at that- just four meetings between the two of you. Four odd, awkward, and admittedly nice meetings. 

The fifth meeting was inevitable. 

---

“So, I think you need to leave, Steve.” you said as you watched Corroded Coffin pack up their instruments. 

“Wait, what?” he looked at you with wide eyes, glancing down at the guitar pick that you were fiddling with between your thumb and forefinger. The smooth plastic and the slightly sharper edge had a nice contrasting feeling as you played with it. 

“Steve, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I do. But I think if you stick around I’m gonna lose this chance.” 

“You’re really gonna go for it? For him?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” You watched the man on stage and gulped down the last of your drink. It was a bit stronger than expected and you had a nice buzz happening, but nothing alarming. You could easily hang out for another hour with some water and some pretzels and be perfectly fine to drive home if needed. But playing it up just a little wouldn’t hurt, would it? It had definitely loosened you up and relaxed you enough that you were starting to feel excited about talking to Eddie again. 

“How sober are you?” Steve glanced at the drink and back at you. “I need to know that you’re of sound mind and body before I leave you alone with some guy we barely know.”

“Awww, look at you caring about me.” you teased and pinched his cheek as he swatted your hand away. “If Dustin vouches for him, I’ll trust the kid’s judgment. And I’m fine, the worst I’ll do is run my mouth worse than normal and rant about things you won’t understand.”

“How’s that different from normal?”

“Ha ha. Okay, seriously. I love you, but you’re cockblocking me.” 

“Okay, okay I’m going, sheesh.” he stood up. “This is the thanks I get for introducing you to a guy.”

“Did you, or did you not get laid at least four times since we started this?” 

“Don’t forget to use protection.”

“Thanks Mom.” 

---

You liked Eddie’s friends, you decided. They were just as weird and loud and rowdy as you expected a bunch of high school boys to be. Gareth kept challenging you every few sentences, but the conversation didn’t feel as awkward as you were worried it’d be after being manhandled to Eddie’s van. Maybe even if this didn’t work out, you could at least be friends with them. 

And when the band was dropped off, it was just you and Eddie in his van. Talking to him was easy, almost as easy as it was to talk to Steve. You never had anything to prove to the jock, and you wished that you could feel the same about Eddie. You wanted him to like you, you wanted him to like you so much. 

Eddie parked and there was a charge in the air that made your stomach flutter. For the past two months you’d actually avoided moving ahead with Steve’s end of the bargain. As much as you wanted companionship, putting yourself out there was scary. But when you were next to Eddie, making small talk, awkwardly flirting, and screaming about music it wasn’t as scary. 

You wanted to move forward. 

You wanted to know him, and get out of this damn rut of home and work and little else. You were tired of hearing about everyone else living while you just coasted. 

So you decided to go for it. You wished you had grabbed a napkin from the bar, but all you had in your bag was an old green sharpie that you were praying still worked. You reached for his arm and you jotted down your name and phone number, putting the ball firmly in his court. You’d made your move, and now it was his turn. 

“We should hang out. On purpose.” you said, releasing him. 

“Fifth time’s a charm.” Eddie said. 

You gave a wave and made your way back to your small one bedroom apartment. As you dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, that’s when you realized something. 

Today. Saturday. That was-

You looked down at your hand and put down two fingers. 

“What did he mean, five?!”

--

Part 6

Dividers by @strangergraphics

A/n: Drop a comment of what you'd want to see Reader get as a tattoo and I might add it later. See you all on the other side of Flight of Icarus.

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1083 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistook @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119

Please reblog 💜

[callme-dickmaster]

Sweetheart - (eddie munson x reader)

Ch. Five - Bullshit/Mildly Attractive Men Are The Downfall Of Y/n Mayfield

summary: nancy decides being a stupid teenager for the night is worth risking her relationship; y/n takes a sad steve harrington home. cw: 18+ (minors dni) this is obnoxiously long, unfortunate use of y/n, idk if i projected in this, it's possible in every chapter, language, high school party, underage drinking, small smutty bit, like the tiniest bit -i think that's all- author's note: y'all... this one hits different. i'm trying to push these out quick because i'm feeling okay enough to not sleep all day. it shouldn't take too long to get next few chapters out. i also took out the pairing because i don't think it fit with this chapter ;) let me know if i missed any warnings. love you <3

<<Part 4 --- Part 6 >>

Nancy and Y/n branched off to the kitchen island when Billy and his boyfriends rocked up to shit talk to Steve. Y/n didn’t bother with the punch and grabbed the bottle of Jack next to it and poured a double into her solo cup. Nancy went straight in and started downing punch.

“Hey, hey, hey, Nancy! Slow down! Steve said, grabbing at her cup.

“We’re just stupid teenagers for the night. That was the deal, right?” Nancy snapped before dancing her way into the crowd. Steve sighed and leaned on the counter.

Y/n went and leaned against the wall and sipped her drink. She was bored and wished she had hung out with Max instead. She dug into her jacket for her prepared “stuff” to get at least a tiny bit hyped for the party. Lighting the joint and smiling to herself as she blew out the smoke.

A while later, Y/n looked up when Girls on Film started playing and she snickered to herself, “Shit, they knew you were coming, Harrington!” she said quietly. She laughed at Steve trying to make eye contact with her as he pointed to the speakers and to himself. Y/n gave him a mocking thumbs-up before puffing on her blunt again. She squinted at him and smiled goofily, earning a laugh from the guy dancing with his girlfriend.

Nancy noticed Y/n by herself and danced her way over to her. “Y/n, come on! It’s a party! You’re supposed to dance!” Nancy slurred, already drunk after guzzling punch for the last hour. Y/n shook her head with a grin, “I don’t dance, man.” Nancy rolled her eyes and pulled Y/n into the crowd.

“Steve! Y/n said she doesn’t dance!” Nancy said like she was tattling on her. Y/n shrugged, twirling her joint in her fingers. “Well, we gotta fix that!” Steve exclaimed, grabbing Y/n’s hand and forcing her to dance.

“You’re lucky I can smoke with no hands,” she said. Steve laughed and twirled himself under her arm. The dancing combined with the weed was allowing Y/n to have a good time with herself. The group shared Y/n’s joint until she finished it off during a KISS song. Y/n almost looked offended that they would play KISS while she was there. Nancy giggled drunkenly at Y/n’s anger about the band before running off to grab more punch. Steve sighed and followed her. It had been more than enough.

Y/n shrugged and continued to dance. “Hey! You’re the new girl right?!” A girl with curly strawberry blonde hair and dressed in a scratched-up white dress asked when she danced her way over to Y/n.

Y/n nodded, bopping to the music. “Cool! I’m Carol!” the girl said over the music. Y/n smiled and waved at Anna when she also danced her way over with a couple more girls. Usually, Y/n would’ve thought these types of girls wouldn’t give her the time of day, but she guessed Steve and Nancy were pretty popular around here.

Y/n and Anna winced when they saw Nancy spill her drink all over her white costume. She huffed and stormed off into a bathroom with Steve trailing after her.

Carol and the few other girls around just giggled stupidly at Nancy’s misfortune in front of everyone. Yeah, exactly as Y/n thought. Mean girls who were only out to push themselves up the ladder. “So… is Billy your, like, boyfriend? Or…” one of the girls asked, swaying a little too close to Y/n.

Y/n physically gagged in disgust at the thought of dating Billy. “Hell no! He’s my stepbrother. He’s all yours!” Y/n said, waving her hand at them. The gaggle of girls squealed together and trampled over to Billy’s little circle of friends in the middle of the crowd. Anna and Y/n laughed at the girls trying to stumble over each other for Billy’s attention.

The fun didn’t last much longer when Y/n saw Steve come downstairs and go straight outside. “Uh, I think something went down,” she said, staring at the back door. Anna looked at Y/n and then to the door she was staring at when Steve came barreling back inside.

“You okay?” Anna asked. Y/n nodded, “I don’t think Nancy or Steve is. I’m gonna go check on them,” Anna nodded quickly, and Y/n pushed through the dancing teenagers to follow Steve out the front door. Y/n had to run to catch up to him. “Steve! Hey, Steve! Harrington!” Y/n yelled sharply.

He whirled around at her tone but couldn’t find it in him to say anything. Y/n jogged up to him and put a hand on his arm. “What happened?” she asked. Steve shook his head, refusing to look at her. Y/n searched for his eyes and sighed. Steve finally looked her in the eye, trembling lip and all, making her eyes widen.

“Sh-she said I was bullshit…” he whispered. He looked pitiful. Y/n didn’t know what to say. On one hand, Nancy was her friend, and she didn’t want to talk badly about her, but on the other, Steve was her friend too and he needed support. Fuck. Y/n flinched and balled up her hands when Steve wrapped her up in a hug, hiding his face in her shoulder. She relaxed and hugged him back, wincing when he started fully crying in her arms.

“Here, gimme your keys. You aren’t driving like this,” Y/n said firmly. Steve wiped his cheeks and gave her his car keys before flopping down in the passenger seat. Y/n got in the driver’s side, and they drove away. Steve sighed sadly as the house disappeared behind them. He was worried to leave Nancy alone while she was drunk, but Jonathan said he would take care of her. And there was the fact that she didn’t love him anymore… if at all…

“Steve.” He jumped and turned to the girl driving his car. Y/n smiled comfortingly, “You still wanna watch Risky Business? You can even make fun of me for being confused because it’s inevitable that I will be,” she asked.

Steve laughed and sniffled, “Yeah, sure. I’ll try and be gentle on you.”

Y/n smiled and turned on the radio. Whip It by DEVO started playing, forcing a grin onto her face. Such a Steve song to play.

Steve told her directions to his house and despite feeling like shit because of Nancy, he was smiling. He glanced down at her hand that was resting on the console between them and took it in his. Y/n looked at him to find he was just looking at her tattoos. Well, he was at first. After a minute of looking at and tracing her tattoos with his finger, he ended up just holding her hand. Y/n allowed it. He was in a rough spot and any comfort she could provide was fine with her.

She gaped a little at his house when they pulled up. It was nice. Nicer than any house Y/n had been in. If you didn’t know he had money, you would be surprised too! Y/n turned off the car and checked the back to make sure there wasn’t anything of Nancy’s to give her. Steve met her at the front of the car and quickly locked their hands back together. She pulled him up to the house before looking up at him and handing him his keys. Steve was still staring at their hands. Y/n wished she could tell what he was thinking. She made the mistake of leaning closer to find his eyes.

The silence and tension must have been too much for Steve because he leaned in and kissed her, cupping her cheek. Y/n inhaled sharply and clenched her fists at her sides, unintentionally squeezing Steve’s hand.

The pressure on his hand snapped him out of it and he pulled back, covering his mouth. “I’m sorry! I…” Y/n only laughed. “It’s chill, Steve. Sometimes you need a distraction. I get it. Trust me, I get it,” she said, entering the house. He stood on the porch for a second, stunned. How can she be so nonchalant about everything? And why was she being so nice to him? “You coming, man?” Y/n asked. Steve nodded, running a hand through his hair.

They both decided they wanted to change out of their costumes, so when Steve came downstairs to see her still in hers scanning the movie rack he was confused.

“I thought you wanted to change?” he asked.

“Ah, I didn’t bring any other clothes, so I’ll just wear this,” Y/n shrugged.

Steve hummed and thought for a second. “Hold on, I’ll get you some,” he then disappeared upstairs before she could convince him not to. (Because she easily could.) Y/n pursed her lips and sighed, sitting on the couch with the movies she picked. Steve came back down shortly after with the clothes folded and handed them to her. When she went to protest he told her to ‘shut up and change before I do it for you.’ Y/n simply nodded and went into the bathroom.

Steve finally took a second to breathe and think. It’s like she said: he just needed a distraction. It doesn’t mean anything to either of them whatever happens. No biggie. Steve looked at the tapes she left on the couch and tilted his head to read them. Halloween, Poltergeist, Risky Business, The Outsiders. He smiled and placed Risky Business on the bottom. It can wait.

Y/n came out of the bathroom after he got the TV set up, dressed in his clothes, no makeup, and a nervous look in her eye. “I thought we were watching Risky Business?” she asked.

The menu screen for Halloween was up and playing the famous piano theme on a loop. Steve shrugged, “I figured we could watch it later. I haven’t seen this one yet.” It was Y/n’s turn to gape at him.

“You’ve never seen Halloween?! This is, like, my all-time favorite movie!” she exclaimed, falling next to him on the couch. Steve laughed and shrugged, “I guess I’ve never been a horror movie guy.” Y/n squinted and shook her head at him. “Disappointed in you boy,” she said. He snickered and pressed play. “This is literally my comfort movie. It’s so good,” Y/n piped up during the opening credits. Steve giggled, tossing one of his arms over the back of the couch.

After a few minutes of watching, Steve was feeling very lonely again. “Hey, Y/n?” she hummed in response, still staring at the screen. “Could we be, like, closer?” Steve asked, opening his arms. Y/n shrugged and nodded, scooting closer to him and laying herself on his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Steve smiled, running his hand up and down her back as a thank you.

“Hey, Steve, you never told me you were, like, rich. It totally doesn’t matter, but you never told me,” Y/n said, still watching the movie. “Yeah, my dad’s money? No thanks. I would rather set myself up and do my own thing, you know? I always had this dream of a big family, big house, nice job, no worries… Stuff like that. Pretty wife to come home to… Guess it’s not like I hoped it would be now, huh?” Steve asked still playing with her hair. Y/n set her chin on his chest to look up at him. “You can still have your family dream, Steve. Just because it isn’t with Nancy doesn’t mean your life is over. It just means maybe she wasn’t the one!” she said hopefully.

Steve just nodded twirling her hair in his hands. He kept going back to the moment on the porch. Y/n’s lips were soft. Softer than he expected. He wasn’t trying to push it, but he really wanted to do it again. Just a distraction… Steve ran his thumb on her cheek before slowly leaning in to kiss her again. Y/n hesitated but kissed him back this time. Steve sat them up, making Y/n end up in his lap as they kissed. She opened her eyes and pulled away, hanging her head with a sigh.

“Steve, no. You’re not in a good place and I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” she said. Steve shook his head quickly, “You’re not taking advantage of me. I just… I just need this. Kinda…” he stuttered.

Y/n squinted suspiciously at the boy she was still on top of, and he squeezed her hips. She didn’t have an issue with sex, it was the situation that made her weary. “Please… please?” Steve breathed, kissing her cheek.

Y/n sighed heavily. Fuck it.

She finally just shrugged, throwing her morals out the window and kissing Steve again. He groaned, wrapping his arms around her, and returning the kiss enthusiastically. Y/n pulled away to quickly strip them both of their shirts before continuing. Steve smiled into their kiss when Y/n ran her hands through his hair, pulling it roughly as they rocked against each other. This was way faster and steamier than any other time he’d had with Nancy. Nancy always seemed nervous and stiff, but Y/n was currently taking control and moving fluidly with Steve.

He tossed his head back, gasping when she started to actually grind on him. Y/n smirked, kissing his neck, and laying her head on his shoulder. “Fuck, you’re good at this!” Steve laughed breathlessly. Y/n paused and shrugged, “I’ve had some practice.” Steve smiled, kissing her quickly before fumbling to take his sweatpants off. Y/n laughed, sitting up so he could take them off. Steve smiled up at her and brought her to him again. Steve’s eyebrows pinched together, and he groaned when her fingers touched his dick through his underwear. “B-bedroom?” Steve panted. Y/n nodded, yelping when he picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Shit what did I get myself into?!

taglist: @sisgotdemons @tlclick733 @deafeningmoontragedy @marjoriea13 @playfuloutcast @twosluttychains @leetaeilsnecktattoo @lil-quinnie @razzles-bottom-lip @originalstar1 @yessargeantbarnes @bebe0701 @shotgunhallelujah @uselessastheginlasagnaa @mynameismothra @niragis-right-hand-rabbit @shecagobaby @moviefreak1205 @munsonmunster @chonkzombie @sadbitchfangirl @screaming-blue-bagel @urdad-hot @kjaxm @xxaestheticboyxx @ok-boke @coffeeaddictednymph

tiny author's note: yeah. that happened. you're welcome. i need it to advance the plot... nothing else... shh... <3

[strangerblurbs]

Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Steve and Eddie spend a lot of time at Eddie's trailer. Steve's parents are gone most of the time, but he doesn't want to run the risk of them seeing him with Eddie. Steve refuses to let Eddie meet his parents. Eddie insists he can charm them, but Steve doesn't want to risk his parents saying anything harmful. They buy into all of the rumors about Eddie that have circulated Hawkins. In addition to that, Steve knows they're majorly homophobic. In his recent memories of his parents actually being home, they were yelling at the television about "the damn queers and their public indecency".

Steve remembers the lectures his father gave him as a young child about being manly. He was told to stop hanging out with certain friends when they got too close for his father's liking, and to avoid physical contact with other boys. He remembers how excited his dad was when he started playing basketball. He also remembers that he only did it to spend more time with guys. As long as he was occupied with a sport, his dad wasn't pestering him to get a girlfriend. He remembers feeling awkward in the locker room, as if everyone knew. He hears the comments his team members make. They joke about people being gay all the time, as if it was the worst thing a person could be.

For a long time, Steve Harrington feels wrong. He pushes his feelings down, and tries to forget them. He dates women. He becomes King Steve. All kingdoms fall at some point. Steve's breaking point is meeting Eddie.

Steve hears the rumors about Eddie "The Freak" Munson. He mostly brushes them off. Prior to their meeting, Steve has no reason to care. His senior year, they're paired up for a project. Steve honestly hadn't even noticed they were in the same class. Eddie knows all too well about the reputation of King Steve Harrington. He isn't too happy about the project partnership, but he's willing to make things work since he's already repeating his senior year.

The first time they meet up for the project, they go to the library. Steve's parents are home, so he refuses to work there. Eddie doesn't offer up his trailer. Everything goes all right for the first hour of their project planning. Both boys are civil, despite being a little angry and a little off put by the other. Things go south when the jocks arrive. Two guys from the basketball team also show up at the library. They're failing the class and need to do well on their project in order to pass the class.

Both jocks snicker as they see Steve with Eddie. "What are you doing with the freak, Harrington? You two getting along like a nice couple of queers?"

Eddie visibly tenses. Steve may not be the most observant, but he notices. Steve tells Eddie to grab his things, and tells his team mates to piss off. Eddie recovers from the interaction quickly. It's nothing worse than what he's used to. Steve doesn't get over it so quickly. He's sick and tired of the "jokes".

Now, it's Eddie's turn to see that Steve is shaken. He offers that they can finish the project at his trailer. Steve is still seething when they arrive.

"Steve, you really don't have to be so mad at them. I deal with worse at school all the time."

"I'm not mad for you... well I am, but I'm mad in general too."

"What? You're really that upset about being called a queer. It's not like it's true. Don't you jock guys call each other that all the time anyway?" Eddie catches at how Steve winces when he says it isn't true. "You- You're queer?" He says it softly and slowly.

"I didn't say that. Don't tell anyone that." Steve stammers through his sentences.

"You know it's okay if you are, right?"

"Yeah, because I'm taking social reassurance from The Freak now. Just drop it."

"You don't mean that. I know you know where that nickname came from. When I got to Hawkins in seventh grade, I tried to hold a guy's hand and in turn he ruined any chance I might have had at fitting in. You can be honest with me, Steve."

Steve had honestly forgotten the origin of Eddie's nickname. His anger subdues. Eddie extends his hand to Steve. "You can either storm out of here and call me a freak again, or we can keep working on this project. It's your choice. I'm not going to force you to do anything, and if you do have something to confess it'll stay between us. I feel unsafe every day of my life in this town. I'm not going to turn you into an outcast as well."

Steve grabs Eddie's hand, and pulls him close. Steve doesn't want to confess anything. He wants to show Eddie how much this moment means to him. He leans in for a kiss, and Eddie reciprocates. That moment is what leads to their relationship.

Six months later, Steve now graduated and Eddie repeating his senior year once again, Steve reflects on their relationship. Eddie Munson's trailer is the first place Steve has ever truly felt safe as himself. When it's just the two of them, he can let his guard down. He doesn't have to be some manufactured version of himself that the town and his parents expect him to be. Eddie's trailer is a safe haven for him. It's safe for both of them. One night, they fell asleep together and Wayne didn't make a big deal out of it at all when he found them. He put a blanket on them, and let them be. When Steve formally meets Wayne for the first time, Wayne tells him to treat Eddie right and makes no additional commentary on the relationship.

This is why it is critical for Steve to never let Eddie meet his parents. Eddie finally has a bit of security in his life. After a rocky childhood with his parents and a rotten school life, he now has a caring parental figure, a stable home life, and a loving boyfriend. Steve doesn't want to bring anymore hate or grief into Eddie's life, and he knows his boyfriend won't be safe if his parents catch wind of their relationship. The Harringtons may be absent parents, but they still care about their sons image. That's really all they care about when it comes to Steve. Having a homosexual boyfriend who is dating the town "freak, rumored Satanist, evil queer" doesn't exactly fit into their perfect family image.

So, the couple never hangs out at The Harrington's house. They have family meals with Wayne when he's home, and are generally domestic with each other. Steve saves up the money his parents leave him with each time they go out of town, and Eddie scrapes together whatever he is able to put aside from his drug deals. '86 is going to be Eddie's year, and the couple is planning to move to a big city once he graduates. They'll be someplace where their reputations don't proceed them, and only Wayne and the kids have their number and address. Eddie is going to be a big, midwest rockstar, and Steve is going to figure out where his passions lie. Until then, they're happy to spend time in the Munson's trailer.

[lipstickstainedred]

Champagne 1 🥂 (dark!Steve X Reader)

So this is my first time writing in a super long time and I’m so excited for people to hopefully read it haha. This is going to be a series and it is a total slow burn. Lots of angst and there will be eventual smut. I’ll try to add warnings for each chapter just because as I write this story more warnings may need to be added.

I want to give a shout out to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for being just an amazing human. Thanks for helping me work through some ideas for this series and helping me make necessary edits.

 This work also will eventually qualify for the @basementwiveswritingchallenge.

If you would like to be added to the taglist please just drop me an ask. :)

Word count: 1318

Warnings: angst, DUB-CON/NON-CON (eventual), smut (eventual) NSFW (eventual), violence (eventual), kidnapping (eventual)

A few months ago you started a new job as an assistant rep for a marketing and advertising company. This was your first REAL job! Of course, you had had other jobs but nothing like this. Prior to this job you had worked as the occasional babysitter, worked at coffee shops, or grocery stores. Nothing of substance or promise, until now. You had almost cried when you had gotten the job, having little to no experience.

You didn’t grow up privileged but you were always taught that if you kept your head down and worked hard, you could create a better future for yourself. And that’s what you had done, despite being in and out of foster homes for the better part of 10 years, you kept your head down, got decent grades in school, did well at your previous jobs, and was even able to pay for some business and marketing classes down at the local community college.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Your blouse and skirt unrealistically tight against your slightly sweaty skin. The outfit fit you correctly but your nerves made it feel uncomfortably snug. This was the first time you’ve worn some of your new work clothes.

“I apologize for the wait, they are ready for you now.” The busty blonde assistant said approaching your boss and snapping you out of your thoughts.

Your boss, Phil,  glanced over at you and the couple other coworkers present for the pitch meeting. It was a huge deal for your company. Stark Industries was a multimillion conglomerate and if this ad proposal went well, all advertising and marketing jobs would be contracted through your company exclusively. It would be a big account and make your boss and your boss’s boss a pretty penny.

All of your team gathered the materials needed for the pitch. You followed closely behind Phil with your notebook and pen in hand. Since you were new, barely having your foot in the door of the marketing worlds, you were a glorified note taker at the moment.

“Right in here.” The assistant ushered your boss and you into the elegant conference room as the rest of your team followed. As you walked into the room, you stumbled nearly tripping over your heels. Stupid uncomfortable shoes.

You straightened back up and readjusted your skirt that had ridden up a tiny bit. Feeling eyes on you, you glanced around the room of lawyers, accountants, and assistants. Seated at the other end of the long conference table was none other than Tony Stark himself! You had no idea that your team's meeting was important enough for Mr. Stark to actually attend.

You still felt someone watching you, someone unseen. Your eyes fell on the man seated next to Stark; Captain America. Your breath caught as you realised he was staring directly at you. You catch the slight smirk on his lips. He must have been the only person to see you trip.

Everyone else was looking through paperwork and making casual introductions.

Your breath hitched as Steve Rogers’ eyes took you in,  traveling up and down your body, before meeting your gaze. You averted your eyes away from his turning toward your boss to help him set up the presentation.

🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂🥂

As Phil and some coworkers pitched their plan, you took notes of any important details your boss would want to review over later. Occasionally, you felt someone’s eyes burning holes straight through you.

You tried to ignore it but against your better judgment you glanced up to find the same blue eyes looking you over. It was extremely unsettling and for the second time today you wished you were wearing something more comfortable, something less tight.

“I like you people!” Tony exclaimed, as the meeting drew to an end. Standing from his chair he continued, “The ideas you pitched are innovation and exciting, I like it. Just give us a few moments to discuss, and we’ll let you know our thoughts.”

Instead of asking your team to leave the room, Tony and Steve along with what you would guess to be a couple of lawyers and accountants just spoke in semi-hushed tones huddled on their side of the conference room. Your team gathered their things with their eyes elsewhere, as to give them privacy.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to take your eyes off the first avenger. His eyes flickered over to you as he spoke with Stark, diverting your gaze as your cheeks warmed.

As if on cue, Tony stole a glance your way, as if Steve had said something about you. Realizing staring at these two men was a bad idea, you joined in the conversation your boss and coworker were having beside you.

“Well, we are all set.” Tony stood up, clapping his hands together. “We are having our lawyers draw up all the contracts now. We at Stark Industries really value teamwork and accessibility. So I’ve made the executive decision to do things a little differently with this agreement. Normally I wouldn’t require this but we really need dedicated staff here on sight.”

“Requiring all of our team on sight? That would be a little difficult to swing with the higher ups, Mr Stark. Our team currently has 3 other contracts we manage.” Phil said, seeming a bit confused by Stark’s announcement.

“That’s exactly my point.” Stark explained. “I need a dedicated team focused solely on our needs. Your company has plenty of other people to manage those contracts. If you want to sign on with us, I need your full attention to be on Stark Industries.”

“Ok.” Phil sighed, “We should be able to have another sector absorb our current contracts.”

“Great!” Stark exclaimed, “So we will be expecting ALL of you to be signed on as consultants as part of the contract. That just means that your team will be exclusively working on Stark Industry projects from now on. You’ll each be getting a desk and/or office down in our marketing department.”

Your boss shook Tony’s hand as everyone in the room clapped that the deal went through. You joined in, a little shocked from Tony’s change in plan. Normally, as contractors you would work in your office building where all the employees worked.

Instead, your boss, you and your three other coworkers would drop all other projects to work with Stark Industries alone. You wondered if it had something to do with what Steve said to Tony, but quickly shook that thought way. They probably just want to make sure you were dedicated to their company.

It wasn’t until your boss called your name that you returned to reality. You hadn’t noticed that Tony had his assistant bring in a few bottles of champagne and some glasses.

“Y/N do you want a glass?” your boss asked.

“Um sure. Thanks.” You mumbled, taking the champagne flute from his hand.

“Cheers,” Captain America said, raising his glass as everyone followed suit. You lifted your glass as well, eyes trained on him as he continued his toast.  “To new relationships.” He added with a subtle smirk, his icy blue eyes gazing straight into yours. Your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of why his words made you so nervous. He averted his eyes and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“Business relationships, That is.” He chuckled and so did the rest of the room. His laughter spread contagiously.

Bringing the bubbling liquid to your lips you took a small sip. It was absolutely delicious. Probably the most expensive drink you’d ever had. The rest of the room continued to celebrate and talk boisterously about ideas while you and all of your team signed the contracts required by Tony.

As you left Stark Tower, you couldn’t help but feel weird. Despite the success of the meeting, you couldn’t help but wonder why you felt so on edge?

[donutloverxo]

A Royal scandal 4

Modern royalty au

Image from Instagram

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia, talks of virginity.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7.8k

Story masterlist

Valkyrie, or simply Val, watched the entire thing unfold before her eyes and was helpless to stop any of it. All of it. All she could do was watch. Much like one would watch a train accident happen before their very eyes.

She had tried. In truth she had.

However, Sarah was the Queen Mother and Val was a member of the Royal Guard.

There was little she could do.

“Your Majesty,” she purred one last time, in one last attempt to save a situation that she knew deep in her heart was not going to go well at all. “Perhaps you would prefer to go inside and I’ll bring them into the reception area?”

Everything was wrong. So very wrong.

Outside the palace was normally empty.

As it was located in the center of the capital. An old historic building from imperial days that covered numerous city blocks, was where the government was run and where King Steven resided. Press knew better than to hang around outside the imposing palace gates as the king never left out them and was uninterested in opportunities to have his picture taken. As did the Queen Mother.

And yet, that morning, a whole gaggle of photographers were lined up and waiting for the visiting royals. Or so they had shared with Val.

Her Grace, Hope van Dyne, never went anywhere without getting her picture taken. In Val’s opinion, she probably had the phone number to every tabloid office in the world.

Sarah’s voice was kind. Soft. Gentle. It made Val want to wrap her queen up in a blanket and make her go inside so she could deal with their unwelcome guests. She stood beside Val at the top of the steps of the palace, provided with a great view of the black sedan that had pulled in through the gates. The flashiest possible way to enter the palace instead of through the underground garage like everyone else.

“Oh no. That’s hardly necessary. They wanted a scene. Let us give them one.”

Not liking the sounds of that at all, her brown eyes flickered over to look at the slim woman with a head of artfully styled strawberry blonde curls, a button nose and rose petal lips. She was every bit as regal as her title, even if she had not a drop of royal blood in her body.

“You can’t think that they actually called the press to say that the Duchess Hope was the woman with His Majesty on the video from the royal banya?”

Sarah’s cool blue gaze flickered to her royal bodyguard before returning back to the sedan so she could observe her former friend climb out, followed by her raven-haired daughter who waved to the photographers on the other side of the iron gates.

That was exactly what Sarah suspected the second she’d seen it in the morning paper. Though she doubted she would ever find out who had started that rumor.

“Have you found out why they’re here?”

Grimacing, Valkyrie shook her head, unhappy to not have an answer for her queen beneath the cloudy chilly winter day. “Not yet Your Majesty. We have reached out to the Maharaja’s Staff and are waiting to hear back. Soon though we suspect.”

Any second now Val hoped her phone would ring so she could tell the queen.

Which led to Sarah turning her head to look away from her guests as they climbed the stairs. She looked away from the large fountain that the sleek luxury car was parked beside and gave her last true smile for what she suspected would be till lunch. Reaching out, she placed her hand on Valkyrie’s wrist. One of her preferred bodyguards. She’d been loyal and had on two occasions nearly given her life in service of her country. “I trust you will find out and inform me as soon as possible. Do not fret. I doubt they will be leaving anytime in the near future.”

Only a lifetime of service kept Val from cracking a smile.

Instead, her dark eyes watched the silver haired Queen of the Netherlands climb the steps towards them. Smiling. Dressed expensively with a heavy coat made from numerous small furry animals.

Queen Janet van Dyne approached as if it hadn’t been years. She came to stand beside Sarah and greet her in such a way that would make for a perfect picture. Or so Sarah noticed. She greeted her as if they were still friends who spoke frequently on the phone and still sent one another gifts. As if their children had married and everything was fine.

“Sarah! How wonderful to see you, you have not aged a day.”

Janet reached out with gloved hands trimmed in mink, leaned forward to place a polite kiss on Sarah’s cheek in greeting and was more than a little surprised when Sarah stepped away. Her own hands remaining clasped in front of her and out of Janet’s. Greeting or otherwise.

“Janet,” was all that came from Sarah’s mouth. A look went from Janet’s coat down to her dress and then shoes, pausing there before coming back up. “Is that the dress you wore to Lizzie’s grandson’s wedding?”

Surprised by the greeting, or lack thereof, Janet paused and then smiled brightly, knowing that though the cameras could not hear them they could capture this image on film. “Yes. We’re focusing on becoming sustainable out in the west. Going green isn’t merely a project meant as royal busywork.”

Sarah could actually feel Valkyrie stiffen beside her at mention of the Green Initiative that Steve had tasked her with and had been far from busywork. It was something that Sarah could go on and on about, one of her many efforts that she busied herself with and yet, she found she didn’t want to expend that much energy on her once friend.

Hands still in front of her, fingers laced together where she could feel her wedding band. Sarah tilted her head slightly to the side. “I wouldn’t know. We remain a governing monarchy here.”

Janet blanched. Her lips formed a straight line, nearly as straight as the way her spine stiffened.

Though Sarah was unable to enjoy it as she turned her attention to the daughter. Hope van Dyne. Formerly Princess Hope but now Duchess Hope, after having been stripped of her title and recently reinstated to a lesser one, in Sarah’s opinion anyway.

Hope looked lovely as ever.

Tanned. Dressed exceptionally well. Smiling exuberantly.

It almost warmed Sarah’s icy heart.

“Sarah! How are you? You look wonderful!” Exclaimed Hope, sounding genuinely thrilled to see the woman who might have been her mother-in-law had things gone differently. She stepped on up with outstretched arms and was greeted with a serene face that looked at her in confusion.

Sarah said nothing. Not a word. Sarah maintained eye contact and looked at Hope as if waiting for the younger woman to say or do something.

Thus leading to Hope blinking in confusion and lowering her arms, looking to her mother for assistance as this clearly was not the welcome she expected.

“Is something wrong,” Hope asked a bit nervously as a winter breeze ruffled the fur on her mother’s coat. Sneaking under the cashmere of her own, as she hadn’t had time to properly shop for winter here. This was her mother’s idea. It was her last hope. Her father had refused to hear her and not even her mother could plead her case this time. This was it.

“I was about to ask you the same.”

Val watched Hope’s confusion and fought hard to not say anything at all, and it was becoming painful to watch in her opinion. Her gaze veered over to all the photographers that were watching more than taking pictures. Even they seemed to realize this visit was not starting off smoothly.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

Val risked a look over at her queen. Her queen who was peering at the young woman who had referred to Val’s people as ‘war criminals’ or ‘superstitious backwoods fools.’

Unable to take another moment of it, Valkyrie cleared her throat.

Finally making Sarah take mercy on Hope who really should have known better in her opinion. “In civilized societies, a duchess would curtsey to a queen. Perhaps things are different for those who are merely ceremonial in purpose.”

***

Someone called your name and for a second, you were terrified that Wanda had come for your ass.

Not that you could blame the best friend you’d had since high school.

Upon heading into the offices of the royal palace that morning, you had intentionally avoided her , secure in the knowledge that she was pissed at you and you really did not want to have the fight you knew was coming someplace public like the office.

So, you’d been groveling via text and promising to go out with her that night for a girls night, swearing on your honor that you would tell her everything! Because Wanda was no fool.

Wanda saw the new dress you had on. Wanda saw your new shoes. Wanda noticed your perfect makeup and styled hair. Wanda also brought up the facts that you’d not been home that night or early morning, as well as the crucial one regarding your flatiron that was still in the bathroom the two of you shared.

Needless to say, you had a lot of explaining to do.

There was no getting around it. You were going to have to tell her about Steve. Sure, you’d swear her to secrecy until everything came out. The palace had made its announcement this morning about King Steven being in a relationship that he would make public soon. A second public statement had come from the Palace PR Guru, Maria Hill, stating that without a doubt, the king was not involved with Duchess Hope after a few rumors had burnt their way through the palace and news cycles.

Besides, Wanda should know. Wanda deserved to know. You and Wanda had come on this adventure post university together. Wanda had to know before it came out in the form of an official palace announcement, or else Wanda might very well skin you alive.

Hearing your name on a female tongue had you snapping up, your attention diverted away from the emails you were checking.

Wanda?

No.

It was not Wanda.

It was an Indian woman in a well-tailored pantsuit. Her dark hair was swept up in a chignon. Her lips a shade of red that had you lowkey thinking about asking for the name and shade of said lipstick. Her dark eyes bore right through you. As if spearing you from your chair and to the wall of your office.

“You are the King’s Chief of Staff?”

While your natural first instinct was to report that was what it said on your door. Professional-you put the kibosh on that right away. Inner you was somewhat intimidated by this powerful woman who looked as if she knew your every last secret.

Head held high this woman so informed you in a tone that let you know she was here for nothing less. “The Maharaja has sent us. Duchess Hope of the Netherlands has stolen from us and is here with the intention of pleading political asylum. While the Maharaja would like nothing more than to have her brought back for trial of the theft of our priceless treasures. I will settle for what was taken and no less.”

Ok. Well. Maybe you thought too soon.

Maybe Wanda was preferrable over this person.

“Oh…goody…” came from your lips with a frown.

“General Odinson sent me here. He told me that you would be able to help resolve this issue for me post haste.”

Oh of course General Fucking Thor Odinson would send this person your way so he didn’t have to deal with this international nightmare of an incident.

Letting out a deep breath, you held up a finger. “Let me just send this out real quick…what’s your name?” And you typed as quickly as humanly possible on your encrypted laptop.

“Ekta. I am with the Maharaja’s Royal Guard.”

Because of course she was. Why wouldn’t she be? Why wouldn’t Hope have stolen from the Maharaja and bounced? Though you’d never had the pleasure of meeting her face to face, you’d heard more than your share about the infamous Duchess, then Princess, Hope.

Typing. Typing. Typing.

“You’ve got any pictures or detailed descriptions of what the items stolen look like? I’m sure His Majesty will be very curious. And, you know, the more information of what we’re looking for the better.”

And done.

With a tap on your laptop, you’d sent out an email to the Finance Minister. Then up you stood.

“Of course,” Ekta answered coolly.

Not that you blamed her. If you were in her shoes, you would have been super pissed off too. Being robbed was never fun.

“Let’s go see if we can track down His Majesty. If not, we’ll make an appointment with his secretary and then go see who is in the office of our Royal Guard. Someone is always in there and I know that Carol, she’s Captain of the Guard, is working right now.” You explained, as if you felt that telling this unhappy woman all these things could somehow make everything right. Probably not. But you still had to try. It was in your nature to fix problems and you most definitely wanted to fix this problem.

Ekta said nothing.

She merely followed you out of your office and into the hallway which was lined with doors and walls of tasteful and probably expensive original art.

You looked to the left.

Then to the right and nearly died then and there at your luck.

How had you gotten so lucky?

There, mere feet away and closing, was not just Carol but His Majesty, deep in discussion about something that was irritating them both.

You had an inkling that you knew what was at the heart of their discussion.

The sight of you made them stop talking and pause in their tracks, which told you that you had been the one that they were seeking.

Before anything could be done, you bowed. “Your Majesty, just the person I was hoping to find.” Up you flourished your hand to gesture at Ekta, who you could feel was beside you, practically putting off rays of righteousness. “We have a visitor from the Maharaja’s Royal Guard. This is Ekta. She is here because of something that concerns the Duchess Hope.”

The reaction that came was almost immediate from both Steve and Carol.

A look as if Steve had suddenly smelled a dead animal came over his face. Carol however cocked her hip to the side, lifted her chin in a dark blue pantsuit, almost demanding in a knowing sort of way. “What’d she steal from you guys? Art or jewelry?”

For the first time ever, you noted a moment of Ekta’s veneer breaking. Like she was taken off balance. “The duchess stole from you too?” Then, almost as an afterthought came, “Your Majesty?”

And this was news to you too.

You had no idea that Hope had taken souvenirs with her that weren’t free to take when she fled the Royal Palace for India all those years ago.

When Steve spoke, his teeth were clearly clenched together. “Yes. Both. She raided my mother’s room as well as the halls for art and pieces that are priceless. Sacred treasures from my countries history that can never be replaced. She filled her suitcase with on her way out.”

“Every now and then an item will appear on the black market. We can only assume that she is selling them when she is in need of money.” Carol helpfully added.

Beside you, you could practically feel Ekta tremble. Shake out of control one could say.

“Is the Duchess Hope here?”

For that you had no answer.

Carol however had one. “Yes. Her Majesty is taking tea out in the gardens with the Duchess Hope and her own mother.”

After being brought abreast of that development, you had a statement to make. One you thought was obvious. But none-the-less, out it came. Maybe none of them knew? “It’s snowing outside.”

Thus leading Steve to turn his attention on you. Finally. And when he did so, he looked at you as if you were only his Chief of Staff. He looked at you kindly without the heat in his eyes from earlier that morning, when he’d woken you up by pushing himself deep into your body until the both of you reached a climax that made your eyes cross and left an impression of his teeth broken into your shoulder.

“Yes. Mother wanted to be sure that the Duchess Hope did not steal anything else from within the palace walls whilst they are here.”

Well then.

Even you had to admit. The Queen Mother could be downright frosty when the occasion called for it. Pun intended.

“She’s having tea with Queen Janet and Duchess Hope outside? In the frigid temperatures?”

You couldn’t quite make yourself believe it. You blinked. You looked from Steve who appeared casual after his statement, like he just told you the winters here were cold. Over to Carol who was pulling out her phone from her pocket. Acting like you hadn’t said anything out of the normal.

“Your Majesty, I’ll take care of Ekta and deal with this issue. If anything arrives concerning this issue. I will contact you. Nakia will come fill my place today.”

If Steve was greatly upset by any of his, he made no outward indication of it other than a nod of his head that he both heard and understood and accepted what Carol had told him. His attention was instead focused on you.

“I have a meeting concerning the Switzerland trip about the proposed embassy. Go get your notes. You’ll be joining me.”

***

Her Grace, the Duchess Hope van Dyne, had finally made it in the palace after that psycho, the Queen Mother Sarah, had the audacity to serve tea in the garden as flakes of snow drifted down. And if that weren’t barbaric enough, afterwards, she then led them around the winter garden as if Hope gave a damn.

Hope had problems and Queen Sarah was not very receptive to any of her attempts to thaw the ice that had formed around Sarah’s heart. Nor did her mother, Janet, have much luck.

When did Sarah turn into such a bitch?

Sarah should have been ecstatic that Hope would even return to this shithole. Sarah’s son was still single, he needed a queen and his backwoods hovel wanted a queen and Hope had royal blood. What more did Sarah need? Did she need it written down?

When did Sarah turn into such a horrible host?

Hope remembered a distinctively different Sarah. When she had lived in this palace, Steve’s mother had coddled her, practically waited on her hand and foot to be sure that Hope was happy and settling in so far from civilization. Where was that Sarah now?

Somehow, Hope had managed to break away, pleading a need to use the powder room around the time her toes and fingers went numb. As she hadn’t had the time to properly shop for clothes to wear in this frigid shithole. India had been so gloriously warm. She’d loved India. Hope would have loved to stay there but things had gone south.

Eventually, like everything else, it’d blow over.

Until then though, she needed someplace safe to stay. She needed to stay somewhere that the Maharaja couldn’t get her. What she needed was diplomatic immunity. However, that wasn’t going to happen since her father refused to even see her, so she’d just have to settle for sovereign immunity. Granted, Hope hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to see Steven and tell him that she was ready to get married now. For crying out loud, he should have been groveling at her feet for her to come back to him. Especially after that sex tape which had been burning up the internet and royal circles. If there was anything that Hope could do, it was bounce back from a scandal.

This was just ridiculous.

The Queen Mother should have been inviting them to this lunch with her son, instead of practically throwing Hope and Janet out. Which was exactly why Hope was wandering the halls in the search for Steven’s office. Toes tingling in her fashionable pumps. Her fingers burning from the warm air in the administrative offices.

Hope would need a whole new wardrobe once she got Steven onboard with her plan. As his current plan of ignoring the sex tape was absurd. These things needed to be tackled head on. With her as his queen by his side, Hope could handle all of it.

Ah, she found herself pleased at the sight of the royal seal over a doorway marking it as the king’s office.

Valkyrie followed her closely. That bitch.

As soon as Hope was queen, she’d be one of the first on the firing block. Following her around like some manner of commoner who might fill their pockets with royal gold. It was absurd. Hope was born a princess and one day she would become one again.

Hope remembered Valkyrie from when she was a young member of the guard and now, she was a Captain and just as irreprehensible as Carol, who Hope also despised. Both of them had to go. Reaching out with a hand that held a ring belonging to the sister of the Maharaja, Hope opened the door and marched right into the office of Steven’s secretary. Who was apparently gone for lunch.

Not that the room was empty.

Nakia, who had been seated on a couch in the office, stood. Dressed in a dark blue suit that all the royal guard wore. Her face stony at the sight of Hope and then darkened further in disgust. She stood tall. Regally. Holding her head high when she spoke down to the former princess. “The king is busy.”

Not that Hope would settle for anything less than seeing Steven in person immediately. She stepped forward. “The king is having lunch with his mother in fifteen minutes. I know for a fact he’s not doing anything of importance. Get out of my way, or I’ll have you selling souvenirs from a cart outside the palace when I am queen.”

At such a statement, Nakia found herself wanting to both laugh and spit in the face of this western woman. One who had referred to her people and country as little more than a backwoods hellhole full of illiterate stone pounders.

How often Nakia had dreamt of being so close to the Duchess Hope, how she thought of ripping out this woman’s forked tongue.

“Let her in,” came Valkyrie’s voice in their native tongue from the eastern regions of the land.

Sending Nakia’s dark eyes past Hope. A knowing expression claimed her features. “His Majesty is in there waiting for our queen.”

A shrug came from the senior guardswoman.

Nakia would be the first to admit, she had not been hopeful when the crown prince had been coronated as a teenager. No one in the country had been particularly hopeful but now, nearly everyone supported their king. His Majesty was a good king who served them all as much as they served him.

Nakia was protective of her king. She wanted her king to marry his Chief of Staff yesterday. Her land was in need of a queen, a woman’s touch one could say.

Knowing what was at stake with the coming lunch that her king would attend with his mother and lover, a visit from the Duchess Hope would not put him in the best of moods. The Queen Mother always grew quiet when King Steven was in such a mood. Why would Nakia allow such a thing to happen?

“Perhaps if he tells her she isn’t wanted here she’ll leave sooner? Let her in. That is an order.”

Pursing her lips unhappily, Nakia stepped back.

She wasn’t about to open the door to His Majesty’s office for this interloper. However, she would no longer stand in the way. Nakia even made sure to send a look that screamed impending homicidal violence. Spurring Hope quickly through the door without another syllable directed at Nakia.

Which was fine with Hope.

Hope couldn’t get away from Nakia quick enough.

Wanting distance sent Hope into the king’s large office without much thought. Looking as if it belonged in an old Victorian estate with dark wood, so many books, old art and thick dark Turkish Rugs.

What Hope did not expect was how much the prince had grown.

No longer a gangly young man whose mother had to have padding sewn into the robes that he was coronated in. This man sitting at his desk was big in every way. Exuding power in a manner that most could only dream and for a second, seeing Steven look at her with shocking blue eyes and stubble darkening his face, she was rendered speechless.

“What do you want Hope,” came Steven’s voice, more than a little annoyed. Far more emotion than she’d ever seen from the young man. Who was now very obviously a man.

This was not the Steven she remembered.

Before her was not the young man she remembered at all. Every last bit of him was very much a king and Hope suddenly, possibly for the first time in her life, found herself regretting many of the past choices she made. It seemed her mother was right. She’d been far too hasty in her youth. Her mother had told her that the prince would mature like a fine wine. Hope had written that off as nonsense meant to trap her into an arranged marriage like so many women before her.

Now?

Now she was looking at a tall powerful man close a very modern looking laptop and turn his attention on her in such a way that made her gut coil. What would it have been like to be the woman in the video? And where the hell did that thought come from? She had been wrong. So so very wrong.

Finally, gathering herself, Hope peered around the office and fussed at the pearl buttons on her coat. “I saw the video…” A noise came from Steven that she’d never heard before, yet, she went on. “…and since we’re still technically engaged, I thought I would return to help you put out the fires of this scandal.”

Another noise came from the king, a derisive snort.

“Wow. That’s cute. Highly amusing coming from you.” Though there was no hint of heat or passion in his words that had been so evident on that video. In her opinion, he didn’t even sound bored. Worse. Steven then leaned back in his seat, peered around her and asked, “Who let you in here?”

Those words, those uncaring words as if she were little more than the two guards outside his office made her burn, bristle.

Which had Hope clearing her throat, bristling one could say. “Actually, it’s more than cute. If you recall, I come from a distinguished royal house. Our engagement is a legally binding agreement.”

For the reaction she got, she might as well have told him it was showing outside.

As she was prone to when there was silence that needed to be filled, Hope pushed the waves of dark hair over her shoulder. She shifted from one foot to the other and watched Steven lean back in his chair.

Finally, as if sensing that she wasn’t going to leave, Steve offered her a shrug. Finding the mere sight of her numbing. He could have cared less what she did one way or the other. So long as she stayed out of his room. He had valuable things in there that he was fond of. “I’m not marrying you. Do with that as you will, you’ll find no sanctuary here.”

This was most certainly not the Steven that she had left all those years ago. It took Hope a second to collect herself, to steel herself. No one had spoken to her in such a way in quite a while. Her brain screamed at her that damage control needed to be done but she was not sure how. In what way? What did she say?

Hope’s brain screamed at her that the plan was failing, everything was going wrong. This was not supposed to happen this way and now she was failing horrendously. What did she do? How could she fix this?

Pricks of pain came from her fists as her nails dug into her palms. Telling Hope that when she unclenched her fists, she would see blood. “You have to marry me!”

Oh this was bad.

This was really really bad.

Across the expanse of his desk, Steve remained calm. Almost to the point of uncaring and such demeanor was reflected in his words. In the way his broad shoulders shrugged and how he rubbed his rough cheek, as if that were more interesting.

“I do not need or want your assistance for anything, forget that video. There is no reason for me to be ashamed of it.”

“Steven! Listen!”

He could see the desperation on her face, hear it in her voice and after so long, he wished he could say that it was rewarding. He wished that he could say it made him feel better after everything that had happened.

It didn’t.

There was just nothing. Little more than cold numbness. Steve felt absolutely nothing.

Nothing was there anymore.

When he looked at Hope there was nothingness.

It reminded him of his father. He hated when he felt that way, when he thought of his father. There was no one on this earth that Steve loathed more. It was his very purpose for being, to not be his father. To end that cycle. To let it die with him.

Most irritably, he shifted in his seat. His eyes found the picture of you both on his desk from a trip to Scotland.

Hints of his father swirled with every syllable only furthering his inner revulsion with himself, his genes and heritage.

“When you left, I did not officially break our engagement as a common courtesy to your father. No more no less. I am a king. You cannot compel me to do anything.”

Pools of blue found Hope again though. A little bit of serene malice hovered between them.

“If you continue to be an annoyance, I will. I am a king now. I have a country to govern. I do not have time for the childish games and pursuits that occupy the western families.”

“Steven this is serious! I could go to prison! In India!”

May his ancestors help him, his first initial response would have been to remind her of her place, remind her of how he should be addressed.

His Majesty.

Exactly as his father would, he swore he heard his father’s voice in his ear.

“You have to help me out! I’m begging you! I don’t care about that other woman. You can have all the mistresses you want!”

A peek down at his watch told Steve that he had minutes to wrap this up and go collect you. Minutes. He had minutes to regain his sanity before he saw his mother.

Minutes.

“Steven!”

Standing from his chair, he shook his head. Doing his best to silence the sound of his father telling him he was not good enough, was not worthy, was not fit to rule. His voice was soft because Steve would not yell like that man. “No Hope. I’m sorry, but no. You remind me of my father. You make me feel like him. You bring him back to life and I cannot live with his ghost. So no. You will have to deal with the consequences of your actions like the rest of us.”

Her eyes went wild.

Steve could see it and was glad he wasn’t within reach of her. He watched her grab a Fabergé Egg from the end of his desk.

Colorful glass accented in gold with rubies around the middle. It fit in her hand but only just, being the size of an ostrich egg and then it went soaring through the air where it smashed loudly into a wall. Denting the dark wood and shattering. Smashing into dozens and dozens of colorful pieces that fell to the floor.

Having felt the very loss of hope itself, she turned to set her storm on him. “You’ll regret this, Your Majesty.” Before turning and leaving, slamming his office door behind her as hard as possible. Leaving Steve with the sound of his father telling him that he wasn’t worthy.

***

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

It was a question for the ages.

A swipe or two of lipstick always gave you the courage you needed in any occasion. But then again, this was not merely any occasion. This was lunch with your boyfriends mother to officially meet her and get to know her, because you were in a serious committed relationship with her son. Because you loved her son.

Oh, and her son was the king, so there were expectations on that already plus with her being the Queen Mother, that was sorta already an expectation of its own.

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

You wanted to look your best because the Queen Mother always looked immaculate. But you also didn’t want to risk getting lipstick on your teeth. Leading you to peer once more into the bathroom mirror.

No. No lipstick. If you put on lipstick you’d be thinking about your lipstick and you needed to focus on making a good impression.

Otherwise, your makeup looked fabulous. Really. Five stars. Two thumbs up.

This had you stuffing your makeup back into your purse and kinda sorta looking up when the bathroom door opened, shut and was locked. Because really. Why would the door be locking?

In the art deco styled bathroom, Steve’s form was very clear and your eyebrows shot up.

Luckily, you were alone, considering how beyond pissed off he looked. One hundred and ten percent not fit to have lunch with his mother. Not with him in this condition.

You had no idea what happened, but something had happened.

He crossed the red and white marble tiled floor. Walked past the gilded edged stalls and stained-glass doors to where you stood at one of four sinks with bronze fixtures and ornately framed mirrors.

To be honest, it was your favorite bathroom of all time. Your Instagram was full of pictures of this bathroom, selfies in this bathroom, up-close pictures of the stained glass.

“Are you ok?”

Beneath his smoothly shaven face, his jaw twitched. “Fine. Are you ready?”

He was tense enough you wouldn’t have been shocked if his joints started to pop, or his teeth cracked from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

Seeing him like this was a no go for Queen Sarah. Everyone knew that she hated to see her son like this and at first you never knew why, not until someone had told you that her husband had the same mannerisms. Steve’s father done the same thing when he had been angry.

While it was common knowledge that Steve was not his father, Steve would never hit his mother.

Some memories could just never be wiped clean.

Having Steve like this was not how you wanted this first lunch with his mother to go. Not one bit. Both of them needed to be on cloud fucking nine. Meaning you were going to have to do something.

“Almost,” was what you told him. A plan already set into motion as you grabbed a few paper towels from the bronze dish that held them between sinks.

One last peek at your hair and you were set. Purse in hand. You stepped on over to press your lips to the flat firm line that was Steve’s mouth. “Could you hold this for me?”

Steve never questioned you or thought twice.

Whether it was from love or trust, or he was too angry over whatever? No one would ever know.

But you seized the moment! Pounced on the opportunity.

You acted as if you were going to check your pumps and instead, set down the paper towels so you could kneel at his feet. Before Steve even had a second to think about it, you had his pants unbuttoned, unzipped and down around his knees. Knowing that the king went commando that morning worked seamlessly into your plan.

His dick hung softly between his muscular creamy thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my purse with both hands, Your Majesty.”

Though soft, his size was still above average. His penis was solid. Thick. A pink tip peeked out beneath foreskin that was stretched over his member. Soft as velvet, you kissed his slit as you pushed his foreskin up to reveal his shaft.

“Remember the first time I ever saw your dick?”

You sank down on his soft flesh after, sucking him in till nearly all of him fit in your mouth. It rarely happened. Only when he wasn’t erect. When Steve was erect, it wasn’t physically possible unless you unhinged your jaw and didn’t have a gag reflex.

“Oh god…” he gasped out at the warm and wet sensation of your mouth closing around him. Cold air on his ass cheeks. Exposed. Vulnerable. His sac hanging heavy and you down on your knees, taking nearly all of him in your mouth.

Steve clung to your purse like a lifeline.

Thinking back, you hummed out thoughtfully, knowing how fantastic the vibrations felt on him. Knowing that the warm softness that was his dick would soon harden. Until then, you enjoyed how you could take him like this. You relished the smell of him, musky and male. Savored how smooth his skin was on your tongue. Reached up and cupped his testicles that hung down for you.

It’d been at a fundraiser.

A black-tie affair for something or another, who could remember?

The two of you had stolen away towards the end, snuck off when everyone was mingling together and socializing. Slightly tipsy or buzzed from the open bar.

Not the two of you.

No.

Both of you had barely drank. Focused instead on getting away so you could steal some moments together. Moments like these. Moments where your hands were all over one another, your mouths hungry for one another. Frantic for that connection between your bodies that nature demanded and you both were trying so hard to make happen.

Tonight was the night though.

You were determined.

Sucking him deep. Swirling your tongue around him. You could feel Steve starting to thicken up which had you popping off his mouth and surveying the sight of his dick taking on a pinkish hue as blood filled it.

“Are you thinking about it, Your Majesty? About how fucking big your cock is? About how it shocked me? Remember?”

Based alone on the sound that came from Steve, you could deduce that he remembered. Possibly even vividly.

“I remember,” you cooed, licking his pink head and suckling on the end of his dick. Flicking against the hole with your tongue. Massaging his balls. Taking his hardening shaft in your other hand. Needing him to feel only you. Needing him to be here with you. “It was the biggest dick I’d ever seen in my life.”

”You don’t have to.” He had whispered to you in a dark corner of the atrium. Hidden by plants and furniture.

Not that you’d cared.

By that point he had gone down on your countless times and you’d never seen it. Only feeling it through his pants when you’d made-out or groped him, when your bodies rubbed against one another in a frantic urge for completion.

“Jesus Christ Steve! You’re the only man I know who doesn’t want his dick sucked.”

“It’s not that…” he came back with, pausing and finally giving in, allowing you to unzip the black pants of his tux and yank them down. Pull them down and out it popped.

Erect.

Hard. So hard.

Foreskin drawn back to reveal an angry red head smeared with pre-cum.

It was massive, a beast, the hugest dick you’d ever laid eyes on and from on your knees, in a ballgown, made up to feel like a princess. You gasped. You straight up gasped like you were a teenage girl seeing your very first penis. Albeit, the one that was so full of blood it bobbed eye level with you, pointing upwards, was considerably more impressive and probably five inches longer than that first ever dick, easy. As you didn’t exactly have a tape measure on you for comparison.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, well aware that your eyes were wide and mouth was very likely a perfect O. “It’s so big! It’s like the biggest I’ve ever seen! Steve your dick is huge! What do you feed it?”

His voice was a bit concerned. Embarrassed even?

Was he embarrassed about this behemoth in his pants?

“I’m sorry, I know. It can be uncomfortable to give me oral sex. You really don’t have to. I don’t expect.”

But you had cut him off with grabby hands wrapping around his erection, pushing up his foreskin and licking the salty jizz that was starting to ooze out. “Shut up, Your Majesty. Tell me how you want it.” In your ministrations you had lifted up his generous manhood and set eyes upon the heavy balls that hung down between his thighs. “Holy Canada! You have a set of balls to match. You have no idea how much fun I’m going to have fitting those in my mouth.”

When you finally ripped your eyes away from his sexual organ, you shook your head and admonished him severely. “I cannot believe you’d keep this from me!”

Exactly how you knew Steve liked, you sucked on his head and played with the tip of your tongue on his hole. You took him as deep as you could as his erection grew harder and harder in your mouth. Tracing your tongue along the sides and pumping him with your hand until his girth grew so wide, you were unable to touch your fingertips around him.

Up and down you sank on his cock. Till he was rigid beneath your lips and you drug your teeth along at times to heighten the sensation.

Slurping. Squeezing his balls. Hollowing out your cheeks and swallowing any salty release that began to dribble out. You savored the sight of his fingers clenching your purse tightly and his eyes screwed shut.

Between languid trips up and down his length, you pulled off to lick his blunt tip with the flat of your tongue.

“What are you thinking about, My King?”

At first, you didn’t think he would or could answer, which was fine. Your attention was on the round edge of his organ. Licking it. Flicking it with your tongue. Playing with it till you sank back down.

After a few seconds.

After a deep breath from Steve.

After that, he managed to get out.

“Thinking about that night. The night I took your maidenhead.”

Your maidenhead?

Well, that was a trip to past. It sent your eyes up and your mouth back off him so you could speak without a mouth full of dick. “Mmm. Thinking about how you went crazy? How you went all feral and popped my cherry?”

In your hand his penis twitched.

It was too perfect an opportunity to not pounce upon it.

If you couldn’t make him come from saying these filthy disgusting true things to him, did you really deserve to marry this man? “Your Majesty? Does it turn you on to think about my having been a virgin? About how you’re the only man to ever be in my body? Do you remember how tight I was? How hard you had to push to break my hymen?”

Little motions came from Steve. Whether he knew it or not. He was making small thrusts into your mouth that you hummed around, sucked on.

Something hit the floor.

Hands were on your head, fingers were in your hair. A wicked smile curled over your lips and Steve was methodically pumping into your mouth.

He sounded strained. He sounded like he was in pain.

“Felt so good. You’re so good to me. My angel. You were so tight.” He declared, announced, would have shouted to the heavens if he was capable. Each word came out in cadence. Almost in a chant. “Felt so good. Feels so good still. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.” On top of feeling you sucking him deep. Paired with your fingers holding his testicles tight. Mixed with your fist wrapped around his base. It was a glorious storm coming together to make him shatter.

Steve was going to come. He was going to come like right now.

It sent his thoughts spiraling along with his words.

“Love you. Love your body. Love being in you. So warm and tight and mine. All mine. All of you is mine. Want you. Want to fill you. Want want want.”

Gasping out. His breath gone. All air left his lungs when Steve climaxed into your mouth. A pitched noise did come that was followed with his fingers pulling your face against him, his pelvis pushing into you. A moan that made him weak in the knees followed that told him you were pleased with him. You were happy.

If he died in the next moment, he would have been a happy man.

All Steve could feel was pleasure. It consumed him body. It whited out his mind. It made his balls empty into the warmth of your mouth, till he was certain that nothing remained.

Even then you weren’t done.

Helpless. Awestruck.

Hopelessly devoted, Steve watched you drag your tongue around him to clean him up. Catching the last few spurts of ejaculate on your tongue before you showed him, then swallowed his seed.

Rendering him panting and sweaty.

He dropped down onto his knees and he kissed you. Mindless. Unable to think about anything else other than your mouth and being lucky enough to have convinced you to be his woman. Steve kissed you deeply, uncaring about the fact he could taste himself, unconcerned when his tongue curled around yours that he might have gotten some of his own ejaculate. His Majesty didn’t care.

Nor was he overly concerned about his knees being on the cold marble tile when he groaned against your mouth. “Love you. Love you so much. Love you to the moon and back.”

[batfamtv]

(girls like girls) like boys do, nothing new

can you do a jealous carol x reader ? like reader has had long time crush on carol and admits her feelings only to get turned down bc carol has internalized homophobia and doesn’t know how to react. carol gets jealous when reader is moving on with another mcu character of your choice.

carol danvers x reader

warnings: internalized homophobia, failed the reverse bechdel test (women only talk about one (1) woman, a gay), no gays fighting over Y/N

word count: 2565 for the gays; set in avengers: endgame; everyone lives au

read part 1 here

Now, after a couple of years, you got promoted

Working under Nick Fury and caring for the Flerken really got you qualified to work in the field

And you did, with the best of the best: Natasha, the Black Widow, and Clint, Hawkeye

You were there when Loki destroyed New York, when Ultron threatened to destroy the world

Over time, your powers manifested, they have been dormant for the longest time

Speaking of dormant, you hadnt heard from Carol since the night she left

You talked to Nick, asked him if she’s ever stopped by, but she hasnt

“She’s busy saving the world, Y/N” he’d tell you, but that didnt make you feel better

You felt so hurt, by her reaction, her rejection, but you began to look forward

But you think about her everyday, wondering what could have been

Carol had given Nick a pager, “for emergencies only”, she reminded him, but she also gave you one

Carol told you that it’s just to make sure Fury doesnt send out some false alarms, but who was she kidding? Maybe she did want you to hit her up

But after all those years, you hadn’t

She looks at her pager every single day, wondering if the world would miss her if she decides to come see you, to clear things out

And you have thought about ringing her up too, in times when the world is in trouble, and in times when the feeling you have on your chest is sharp that you couldnt breathe

In times when you miss her so much you cry uncontrollably, hand over your mouth to make sure no one hears

To make sure no one hears how much you miss the woman you love

You were with Nick and Maria when it happened

It was chaos in the city, and you, Nick and Maria got out of the car to investigate

The drivers seats of cars are empty, helicopters crashing into buildings

Almost reflexively, your hand flew to your pocket, where the pager lay there, almost waiting for you to press it

“Y/N?” Maria sounded distressed, and when you turned to her, her body was disintegrating, like sand blown away by the wind

Nick was distressed and eyed you, “You have to call her. Call control.”

You didn’t hesitate, pressing the button as you watched Nick do the same to his pager, watching your mentor and friend disappear right in front of your eyes

When your right hand started to disappear, you moved the pager to your left hand, tears threatening to spill

You were going to die, alone, unloved, and not having told Carol how much you miss her

Her name was the last thing on your lips before you disappeared

When carol came back to earth, she didnt know anyone

But everyone was grateful to her, for returning tony

The burning question in her head, the one thing she almost didn’t want to admit

Where is the woman she loves?

Back then, way back when carol was still a child, she was told that there were a lot of things she couldnt do

She couldn’t be strong, couldn’t play baseball--because she was a woman

She couldn’t join the air force, couldn’t be a pilot--because she was a woman

All of these things she couldn’t do, but there has always been one thing she was not allowed to do, not allowed to be

Because she was a woman, she is not allowed to like other women

Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could break the glass ceiling and become an air force captain, but there was one thing that she just was not allowed to do

And that was to acknowledge weird, different feelings for women

That has always been the case, it was drilled into her being, ever since she was a child

Girls can’t like other girls

And you confessing your feelings to her years ago forced her to acknowledge that her feelings for you were not at all platonic, that she didn’t stay with you for 3 days just because you were a good friend to her

Carol had to face the facts that being with you reminded her that she was human, and deep down, like the child that she was a long time ago, she had feelings that she didn’t believe were right

And she understood that her running away was not the right thing to have done, that she, who almost prided herself for being able to face her problems head on, was not ready to face this one problem that she had been forced to hide deep down, for years and years

Carol Danvers had always liked girls, and she liked you

Carrying that aircraft containing tony stark and nebula did not bother her one bit, what bothered her was that she was coming to earth after all these years

Somehow she believes that she is being forced to finally deal with abandoning you after all these years

But in spite of this, carol is feeling excited about this, because finally, after all these years...she had made peace with it

Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new

And all it took for her to realize that was the beeping of the pager

When everything had settled down, carol had been graciously offered a change of clothes by Pepper, who was hysterically thanking her for bringing tony back

The atmosphere was morbid, everyone in silent despair, and she was quietly begging for someone to fill up the spaces of what has happened on earth since she was last there

Finally, surrounded by a group of people calling themselves the “Avengers” (carol raised an eyebrow at this, asking if nick fury was the one who assembled the group, “Yeah, how’d you know?” Rhodes asked, and she shrugged and said “Lucky guess”), she was finally brought to speed

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to earth”

Holograms of people Carol believed were part of this team are projected around her

“We’re trying to take a census, and it looks like he did exactly what he said he was gonna do”

Nick Fury’s face appeared on the screen, much to Carol’s shock

Tears were brimming in her eyes, thinking about the distress call from Nick

Because if Nick sent the distress call and is now, as Natasha said, wiped out...does that mean…?

“Thanos wiped out...50% of all the living creatures”

Y/N’s face appeared in front of Carol not long after

With that, Carol exhaled as tears finally fell down her cheeks...she had her suspicions, but hoped--no, begged--for it to be false

Y/N was gone

And carol was too late

Tony stark had been upset...and collapsed, Carol, who was still in shock, was staring at the hologram of Y/N in front of her

“Carol, right?”

Carol turned, regarding Natasha with a nod

They hadn’t had the chance to properly introduce themselves, but Carol didn’t think there was any time

“Carol Danvers,” Steve added with a chuckle, “I think we all know you by name before we even met you”

“Fury really singing me praises, huh?” Carol was almost amused

Natasha smiled sadly, “Not Fury,” and she and Steve turned their heads toward the hologram of Y/N

“Whenever she had the chance, she would talk about “her”, Y/N’s greatest love,” Natasha whispered, remembering how she and Clint always pretended to be annoyed whenever Y/N would go on and on about this really powerful superhero who shined like the sun, and lit a flame in her heart

And as much as Carol wanted to bask in the appreciation, she felt nothing but shame, knowing she abandoned Y/N, and wasn’t able to save her

Glancing back at the hologram, she eyed her once more

Years had been good to Y/N, still beautiful as ever, leaving her breathless, but she wasn’t there anymore

And Carol knew what she had to do

If she couldn’t save Y/N, Carol could avenge her

Rhodes approached her, Natasha, and Steve, “He’s probably gonna be out for the rest of the day”, referring to tony

With a resolute look on her face, she said, “You guys take care of him, and I’ll bring him a Xorrian elixir when I come back”

Confused, Natasha, Steve and Rhodes glanced at each other before Steve asked, “Where are you going?”

“To kill Thanos,” Carol said matter-of-factly

Natasha could almost feel the anger Carol was radiating with, so she hurried to catch up to her, “You know, we usually work as a team here…”

When Natasha finally had the chance, she pulled carol over to the side to talk to her privately

“I know that you usually work on your own, that there are worlds out there who need you, but earth needs you too”

She was convincing Carol to stay, to try and create a better world for the people who survived, but it was getting quite hard for Carol to remain on earth

“I don’t…” Carol shook her head, “I don’t have much left on earth.”

“If you can’t stay, atleast come from time to time,” Natasha begged, “This was your home, wasn’t it? This was Y/N’s too.”

And Natasha was right, Carol thought, and in more ways than one, it was her home. But now it’s empty, and Carol is in mourning and she had never felt so alone

All those years, she thought she could live with what she did knowing that Y/N she was still on Earth, possibly with someone who is not ashamed of who she is, who is not ashamed to accept their own feelings

And Carol was okay with that thought, but now…

She couldn’t stand being on Earth knowing Y/N wasn’t there

It was like coming home to a cold and empty house

But she looked at Natasha, finally with the courage to ask her what she had been thinking all this time, “Were you and Y/N together?”

“No,” Natasha answered, almost teasingly

Carol felt relief, but above all, she felt obligated

To do right by Y/N

So she agreed to visit and report from time to time, “For Y/N. Because I need to do right by Y/N.”

When Carol returned to earth after 5 years, Thanos was there, and so was everybody who had disappeared 5 years ago

In spite of all the chaos, she couldn’t help the voice in her head, asking, “Is Y/N here? Is she safe?”

But you were nowhere to be found, and she had promised to scour the world for you later

Thanos was defeated, but it was in exchange for the lives of Tony and Natasha

With a heavy heart, everyone attended their funerals, all grieving the loss of two of their comrades, friends

At the funeral, Carol stood at the distance, watching behind everybody else

Behind her, Nick was there, and they exchanged solemn nods and opted to wait until the end of the funeral to reconnect

“You came,” was the first thing Fury said, after all those years that they haven’t seen each other

With a small chuckle, she nodded, “Don’t flatter yourself, I didn’t come because you called.”

“I know,” Fury retorted, amused, “You came because she called, right?”

Carol’s mouth opened, lips about to ask a question she had been dying to ask ever since she came back, but no words came out

When everything was chaos and adrenaline and fighting, Carol was not scared

But now that the dust has settled, she was terrified...because now there was no more excuse to avoid what her heart has been begging her to do

Before she could push the question out of her mouth, Fury handed her a piece of paper. “She’s off-duty. Gave her a whole damn month to recuperate from being wiped off the face of the planet.”

And when Carol unfolded the piece of paper, it was just an address

Nodding gratefully to Fury, Carol turned to leave, about to face her biggest obstacle yet

From what she could tell, it was a safehouse

Apparently, Y/N was someone high up the organization that they had warranted her one

Just a little cottage out on the countryside, a palace she had always wanted

Carol laughed whenever she remember you saying, “Maybe one day I could afford a little house in the middle of Kansas, meet Clark Kent and Lois Lane...I don’t know”

And here you were, at a small little house in the countryside

Carol watched you, almost ashamed to just be staring at you while you make yourself some breakfast

As she approached the porch, she wondered how she could take on the mad titan Thanos, but is now shaking as she brought her knuckles to knock on your door, extremities suddenly feeling cold, and knees wobbling to support her weight

She could barely hear your footsteps because of the blood rushing to her head, to her face, heart beating wildly

And when you opened the door, she noted how your eyes widened the tiniest bit, mouth opened in surprise when you realized who was on the other side

“Hi, Y/N,” was the first thing she croaked out

“You…” you smiled at her, “you changed your hair”

With a laugh, she nodded, running a hand through her short hair, before she let her hand down

Slowly counting to three

And engulfed you in a hug

Absolutely-swept-you-off-your-feet hug, your feet leaving the ground as her arms wound tightly across your waist, almost crushing you

And when you heard her inhale into the nape of your neck, it was like a reflex that you threw your arms around her neck, squeezing her just as tight

And Carol wanted to apologize, and confess, and plead for you to give her another chance

She wanted to tell you that she’s sorry for leaving, i was so confused and i was scared to come back and have you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t forgive me for what i did, but i have made peace with who i am and know what i want and what i want is you and your happiness and you and you

And she may have tried to make a letter to help her organize her thoughts

You held her shoulders back, looking at her, really looking at her, after all these years, and you use your thumbs to wipe away the tears running down her face as she shyly laughed at you and held your hands to her cheeks and kept it there for a second, relishing in your heat because you were finally here, after all this time, after 5 long years you are alive

And she brought your hands down and cupped your face and leaned in

And touched her lips to yours, gently, lovingly, finally

You can taste the saltiness of her tears, but also her apologies, and love, and devotion and you kissed her back, smiling

And as you pulled away, you wiped her tears again, before holding her hands, guiding Carol inside, “Let’s eat breakfast.”

And Carol Danvers, for once, was selfish, and did not think of the world needing her help, because she knows that the world would be fine if Carol stayed home for a while

And home is wherever you are

a/n: thank you so much for your support! i rly hope you like this ;__;

[nostalgicatsea]

Steve/Tony modern AU mood board for @thedamageofherdays​ | @fandomtrumpshate​​ 2022

Thank you for bidding on me and donating to Dig Deep/Navajo Water Project, Damage! 

ON AO3

THE NIGHT BEFORE

“Blue Steel’s right. If you’re going to make a bad decision, let me be your bad decision. Don’t text your ex.”

Copious amounts of alcohol because you were set on breaking hearts tonight, but his is already broken and you find yourself wanting to pick up the pieces instead of grinding them under your foot. You both need liquid courage; you to go through with your offer, him to take you up on it.

Deli sandwiches at Katz’s to soak up the drinks. There are too many goddamn people (of course there are), but you were craving a Reuben and it was nearby so it was worth the crowd. You sketch DUM-E on a napkin—DUM-E shaking smoothie ingredients everywhere and everything splatting on the floor, specifically—because he asks what your baby looks like. You’re not sure why you’re letting him know these things about you, but he carefully slips the napkin from the table and into his jacket pocket when you leave.

A late-night film screening at Nitehawk. You don’t even know how you got from the Lower East Side to Brooklyn. You don’t know where in Brooklyn because you don’t go to Brooklyn. But you see the theater’s charm and you see his charm when he lets you steal all his tater tots. 

Inadvisable amounts of alcohol again. The bars and hours have blurred. At some point, you reach over and comb his hair back because a lock’s come loose and he leans in to kiss you on the cheek, right by the corner of your lips. It’s sweet, but you catch him before he can move away, angling your mouth so that it’s finally on his. He forgets what he was saying. You tell him that’s the plan except you make no move to drag him to the bathroom. 

A cab ride you don’t remember but you pay for, after he wakes you up with a kiss on your forehead, then your hair, not fussed at all that you passed out on his shoulder the entire ride. It’s driving you more than a little crazy that he keeps aiming everywhere but your lips. You stand on tiptoes and bite his earlobe, then the muscle that jumps in his neck, once the cabbie pulls away from the curb. He crowds you against a brick wall, right there where anybody can see you both, and returns the favor two-fold. 

Greasy slices at the pizzeria around the corner from his apartment to sober up because he hasn’t gone grocery shopping yet. Some guy behind the counter named Clint wolf whistles when you walk in, tucked under his arm because it’s late enough that it’s cold as hell even though it’s May and he noticed you shivering. His ears flush a cute red. You discover the rest of him does too, thirty minutes later.

THE MORNING AFTER 

“I saw the note you left on the fridge, and I got to thinking about what you said last night. You were the right decision. That’s why I’m calling you.”

An empty, sleep-rumpled bed. He’s in the kitchen helping himself to your coffee because you woke him up at what he deemed an ungodly hour when you went to go wash. You can still see the imprint of his body on top of your blanket, where he dozed off some more after his first attempt to get up. 

Hangover bacon, egg, and cheese that you pay for because he covered the cab fare when you secretly were too tired to take the long train ride home after the movie. You didn’t want to deal with weekend MTA bullshit, but you also didn’t have enough spare cash and somehow he knew. Kamala’s at the bodega, buying what looks like ten bags of chips, and he instantly wins her over by chatting about some show they both like, matching her enthusiasm and nerd knowledge. She goes bug-eyed at you when she thinks he’s not looking, her telepathic exclamation points plonking down on your head.

The early morning view of the city skyline. You’re surprised that he stuck around after breakfast, but he doesn’t seem to want whatever this is to end either. He helps unload your supplies from the car before you can even object. You both need to cool down after lugging everything up three flights of stairs to your studio so you take him to the rooftop. Contentment radiates from him, hazy and warm like the Brooklyn sky.

A tour around your studio that makes you feel shy because it’s bare bones until you notice he doesn’t care. He’s too busy looking at your work with wonder, like you make him see the world differently. 

Brushes you introduce him to along with your stack of pencils because you’ve seen what he can do with a pen. The evidence of it is sitting on your bedside table at home. You lose hours with him, both of you filling the room with dreams that didn’t exist before your time with each other. 

A ride back to the city because that’s where he lives. You hate and usually avoid two-seater benches because you’re either sandwiching someone or being sandwiched by someone and there’s no room for your legs. It’s kind of stupid how happy it makes you that you’re crammed in one with him. He’s pressed against your side, and it’s enough and not nearly enough.   

A row boat out on the water at Central Park. Somehow, even though both of you have lived here all your lives—or maybe because you have since you’re pretty sure this counts as touristy—you’ve never done this before. Everything is new with him. You’ve made what were supposed to be endings—a one-night stand yesterday, numerous chances to part ways today–into beginnings. You feel that way about him when you get back home hours later and see the note he must have written right when the day started, before he handed you your coffee and told you good morning, sunshine.

[yourmcu]

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Misunderstood Choices Chapter 10

Steve’s POV

Nothing could have prepared Steve for what he had just witnessed. The last time Steve saw Y/N was at the restaurant, usually he would see you in passing, either see you cooking or refilling the pantry in his house, you tried to exchange pleasantries, something he had no interest in doing. He hated the clinginess you displayed, trying to talk to him, engage him in your life, whenever you were in the same room.

He had not expected you to be working in a software company, he had certainly not seen you this confident, you were always meek and mousy around him and the very many socialities you interacted with, in the parties that Arthur made you attend. You were easy prey to those predators. But this confident Y/N was another person, he also noticed that you didn’t use either of the powerful last name associated with you by birth and by marriage. You were a Vincent and still, you used ‘Y/L/N’, he really should have done some research before marrying you.

Steve had so many thoughts running in his mind during the meeting, he had forgotten to listen to the conversation, Sam and Bucky seemed stunned to see you as well. He was pretty sure the only person paying attention to the conversation was Randall, the only conclusion he reached was Randall was impressed, and Randall was not an easy man to impress. He noticed that you were avoiding meeting his eyes. You were purposefully engaging in conversation with Randall, Sam, and Bucky. And as soon as the meeting was over you left quickly. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks, but it almost looked like you were avoiding him.

--

Later that day……

“Did you know she was working as a Data Engineer?” Bucky asked Steve.

“Scratch that, do you even know anything about her?” Sam interjected.

“No, I had no idea, I mean she is an heiress, she has millions of dollars at her disposal, why would she be having a job? If anything I thought she’d be out socializing” Steve replied.

“He can get to know her once we strike a deal with Beyond Technologies” Bucky told Sam. Sam nodded.

“When did that get decided?” Steve asked.

“I think you forgot about an hour-long discussion we had while comparing software efficacies and market value, Randall will be drafting the contract by next week and we will be able to integrate it into our system by next quarter fully” Sam threw the projections paperwork in Steve’s direction.

“Look, Steve, we understand, you are under a lot of pressure, hell we all are, you need to get your act together, you are overworking, overthinking, and overanalyzing everything.” Bucky consoled.

“In other words, you are paranoid as fuck, get some sleep man, I know paying back Arthur Vincent is important, but you have to pump the breaks,” Sam added, while he signed some necessary paperwork.

“I am not paranoid” Steve retorted. Sam looked up, frustrated by Steve’s attitude.

“You are obsessed with work, you stay late just to avoid Y/N, you clearly have issues with her because you were forced to marry her, but that’s not true, you signed the contract, you could have walked away, she clearly is just living her own life and you have been nothing but shitty to her,” Sam replied, offering an eagle-eye view on the situation.

“Just take a deep breath and relax, go home early, I know you are dying to ask Y/N about the job,” Bucky summarised.

“Fine..fine if you want me to leave early I will, and you are right, I want to ask Y/N about her job, come on why would a billionaire’s heir be working in a software company?”

“She must be bored at home and clearly has better things to do unlike you who tries to dissect anything and everything related to her” Bucky answered.

Steve reached his penthouse a little early in hopes of talking to you. He wanted to get to know you. He waited for five hours in the living room hoping you’ll be home but when you didn’t come after 2 A.M. he decided to retire for the night. He mentally kicked himself for not asking you for your number after all you were husband and wife on paper.

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[anika-ann]

One Door Closes... (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2700

Summary: For Steve, your door is always open... or he thinks so. And even when it isn’t, it is.

In which one small Zoom mishap leads to an (un)usual ‘welcome home’.  

Warnings: brief mention of blood and violence, lightest angst, attempt at humour, crack-ish, fluff and language

A/N: For @anjali750, because this is totally her fault. Thank you for inspiring me :-* Have a little bit silly weekend reading, y’all!

“Tell me about it,” Steve encouraged you gently, soft smile playing in the corner of his mouth despite the pain it must be causing him due to his busted lip.

You couldn’t but grin at the lenient picture he made. Feeling blood rush to your cheeks at the thought of him probably calling you cute in his mind if his expression was anything to go by, you obliged, proceeding to tell him about the new project at work.

Your project. Because somehow, you finally earned your boss’ confidence and could bring the great ideas in your mind to life.

You felt so giddy just talking about it! So you started explaining, excitedly gesturing with your hands so Steve would get the right visual and you grew so enthusiastic that you almost forgot to keep an eye on him.

But you were watching him – always.

His lower lip was split, but already healing – it would have healed much faster if he stopped tugging at the healing skin whenever he talked or smiled at you from the screen. He looked a little drowsy, a shadow of a bruise forming on his cheek, but as far as you knew, those were the only injuries he had; that and many hours of sleep to catch up on.

Steve had a habit of calling you via Zoom whenever he got back to the Tower from a mission. He usually took a quick shower and was online until the last second before he had to leave for a debriefing; the only reason why he didn’t head straight to your place.

He admitted once that he loved seeing your face and talking to you even if for a moment after a mission, that it grounded him. On a very sappy and loveable moment, he even called you his sun; and the fact that after few minutes of being with you – as much as technology allowed – his face always seemed brighter, made you think that it truly was how he felt.

Even exhausted as he was now, you could tell his half-lidded eyes shined with life unlike when you started the call.

And so you kept rambling, feeling your heart bursting with love for your man and with euphoria, because goddammit, finally some recognition at work!

“Well, obviously, to reach as much general public as we can, we’re gonna launch a world-wide campaign! World-wide!” you emphasized with a blinding grin, throwing your hands wide to demonstrate.

---and your fingers caught in a cord from the laptop, pulling at it.

Steve’s benevolent face disappeared as your screen went black.

Because of course it did.

You had been talking yourself into buying a new laptop or at least having this one fixed for a few weeks now, because this was always the result whenever you accidently unplugged it. The battery was useless, ready to retire.

“Motherfu--- ugh!“

You wanted to be mad at the device – but this was totally on you.

Sighing, you hooked up the laptop again, waiting for it to wake up from a coma, shooting Steve an apologetic text in the meantime. Closing your eyes, you let your forehead lightly fall against your desk, mentally cursing yourself.

Dummy. If you only weren’t so lazy… and didn’t hate certain aspects of adulting with so much passion… you could have been talking to Steve-

Your eyes flew opened when it felt like it was quiet for too long; no reply to your text. Dread filled you and you quickly reached for your phone again, this time to dial.

You prayed you were wrong; but as the phone kept ringing with no one to answer it on the other end, you felt misery creep up you back and whimpered. Sliding your phone on the tabletop, your not-so-deft fingers stumbled over the keyboard, harshly welcoming it into the world of living by opening Zoom again to reconnect the call.

Your breath hitched in anticipation as the window opened---

An amused and yet somehow unimpressed face of Natasha Romanoff welcomed you and this time, you didn’t bother slowing down as your head hit the desk. It hurt, but that was only a presage of the real pain.

“Nooooooo,” you whined loudly, faking and not quite faking a sob, because shit.

“Oh yes,” Natasha hummed nonchalantly.

You straightened a bit in your chair, narrowing your eyes at her as you noticed the corners of her lips twitching while she pretended to be busy checking out her possibly-mission-broken nails.

“It’s not funny.”

She snorted and glanced at your no doubt desperate face.

“It really is. But also kinda sad,” the spy noted, something resembling concern flickering over her face before she scrunched her nose, irises twinkling. “And disgustingly cute. It has Rogers written all over it.”

You glared at her some more, not even bothering to roll your eyes.

“Tell that to my landlord,” you muttered under your breath, leaning your elbow on the tabletop and dropping your chin to you palm. A second later, a brilliant idea hit you and you tried to manipulate your legs from under you.

The thing was, even if you had a pretty good idea of what was coming if you didn’t stop it and knew that it would be a bitch to deal with, Natasha was right.

In a way, it was utterly cute, disarmingly charming and entirely heart-warming. Your stomach fluttered, the fabled butterflies flipping their wings, your face grew hot and your heart… well, it felt as if it was growing in size.

It was also sad, heart-breaking even; Steve, especially after a mission, was a man running on instincts. It was one of the reasons why he had developed a habit of calling you, why he wanted to hear you ramble about your either boring or exciting but always wonderfully normal day. A day which involved no shooting and no blood besides papercuts and a quarrel with your stubborn boss who shoot you glares at best.

On a mission, these carnal automatisms often meant survival. But back home, Steve didn’t want to be a sum of instincts of survival, fight and fear; he wanted to feel again. And with you, he did. He wasn’t just a Captain America, a soldier to be put on battlefield whenever the general found fit. He was a human being. A wonderful one at that, with beautiful soul.  

So yes. It was also rather upsetting.

And in a way, it was a little funny too. You knew it was totally your fault and that Steve was being kinda ridiculous, because he knew you and your inclination to wild gesticulations ending up catastrophically. On top of that, he was aware of this particular problem being almost a daily occurrence; hell, he tried to talk you into having Stark look at your laptop and failed.

And now... well. Here you were.

“You know, maybe if you get up and welcome him with door opened…” Natasha teased you with your own genius ides and you grinded your teeth, frantically trying to move your foot, which was pretty much on fire and yet dead.

“I would, but I… eh, pins and needles, was sitting on my feet,” you explained, embarrassed, testing whether your feet could carry you or not, naturally finding that without support, you’d be down before you could take as much as a step.

This time, Natasha didn’t snort in amusement.

Instead, she graced you with an outburst on honest full belly laughter, her red hair unfairly shiny for a woman who just spend week on a mission in damn Moldova and probably kicked more asses that you could imagine.

“You know what, Romanoff…” you grunted, forcing yourself to wobble towards the door. Very slowly. And cautiously. Knowing your luck, you might actually get hurt.

“I’m not even sorry,” she choked out and then continued to howl in laughter. “You so deserve each other. I finally know what the ‘idiots in love’ mean. Thanks for that!”

“You’re very welcome,” you huffed, voice dripping with irony.

Finally able to put full weight on both of your feet, you headed towards the exit – and entrance – of your apartment.

Halfway, you decided it was a lost cause. You would be willing to bet that the moment you’d touch the doorknob, you’d get hit to your face. It wasn’t worth it.

Yes, maybe if you did get hurt, it would make Steve think twice before coming all guns-and-shield blazing into your apartment; then again, it would probably cost you a broken nose.

Not to mention Steve’s tendency to get swallowed by the enormity of his guilt.

So not worth it. Best if you stayed put.

That was what you kept telling yourself when you stood there for about two minutes, in which you’d be able to open the door about forty times. Your annoyance – mostly with yourself and the cackling redhead – and the anticipation was becoming unbearable. As seconds ticked by, you were trying to convince yourself into taking the last few steps and opening the door and save yourself some trouble---

You yelped when the loud bang rattled your apartment the door sent flying of their hinges along with a spray of powered plaster despite knowing it was coming.

A glint of metal appeared next, the striking red, white and blue no longer there as it was covered in more bland colours for stealth missions.

And then a large figure cladded in blue shirt and grey jeans entered, his chest heaving, face flushed with red. Piercing blue eyes wiped of all previous traces of tiredness scanned the room, instantly falling on you as you awkwardly stood there, dumbfounded, startled and utterly speechless.

Also, much to Steve’s puzzlement, you were perfectly fine otherwise – even with both legs functioning, no remnants of pins and needles present.

Steve eased his posture instantly, eyes narrowing and then widening as he looked you up and down, lips parting in genuine surprise – and relief.

He said your name, clear and almost reverent, dropping the shield on the floor with a clang.

The ‘hi babe’ got stuck in your throat as you could see the tension leaving his shoulders, his eyes turning glassy and absent despite relief rolling off him in damn tsunami waves.

It hit you like a train – that you were delighted to see him, actually see him, even under these circumstances; and you truly didn’t want him to withdraw to some freaky brain-space after he had probably got one of the most ridiculous scares of his life due to the fact that his brain was not fully back in the normal world.

In the normal world where you abruptly disconnected a call without warning, because you talked too animatedly and not because some terrorist high on the FBI’s, CIA’s, NSA’s and SHIELD’s most wanted list found out you were Steve’s girlfriend and decided to take you out.

So to prevent another psychical horror trip of his, you went for distracting him – with a very relevant issue.

“You broke my door.”

Steve blinked, gaze refocusing on you fully, simply staring for a long moment.

“You went offline,” he objected quietly, a hint of accusation in his voice. God, you missed his voice.

“You broke my door, Steve.”

As if hearing his name was a spell, his frozen figure came to life and he took a cautious step closer, repeating his previous statement, this time with a hint of guilt.

“You went offline.”

“And you broke my door. That’s the second time this month, Steve! My landlords gonna k--- be real pissed at me,” you corrected yourself in the last second, not wanting say kill.

Steve ignored the slip and apparently got the message, his face twisting in genuine apology. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix it!”

With efficiency of a supersoldier, he spun on his heels and rushed to pick up the door as if it was lighter than a paperweight and swiftly put it in place.

Only for the door to slowly tilt his way again. He caught it with a loud curse and moved it aside, leaning it partly against the wall. The action sent more plaster down onto the floor, like the only truly white snow in New York City. Peripherally, you noticed Steve grimacing, his face an expression an epitome of yikes.

You let your eyes slipped shut, shaking your head with a sigh, but couldn’t but chuckle. When you looked at Steve again, he resembled a 240 pounds giant Labrador puppy, truly regretful, approaching you reluctantly as if he was afraid you would slap his big paws for being clumsy.

What he would deserve was for you to clip round his ear for impulsiveness, but could you blame him? God knew what he had seen in Moldova in the past week, what horrors he had lived through and what a nightmare his mind had created when you ‘went offline’.

Him barging in like this due to your own dumbassery was kinda sad; a prove of his demanding job full of terror.

It was cute and heart-warming, because he just cared for you that much.

It was a little ridiculous, because as Steve finally crossed the distance between you two, the head of your elderly neighbour peeked from behind the empty doorway, puzzled and rather concerned.

You snorted unattractively, the scene in front of you seeming epically hilarious all of sudden.

“I’m good, Mr. T!” you called over Steve’s shoulder after the poor man who gossiped like an old woman and was just as hospitable. “Just my boyfriend fussing because of a technology fail!”

A grin spread on his wrinkled face; a testimony to years of laughter and amiability. “Oh. Hi, Mr. America!”

“Afternoon, Mr. T! I am verry sorry for disturbing you.”

The older-looking man waved off Steve’s politeness.

“It’s fine. You keep taking care of your lady, Mr. America, and keep her safe!”

“Yes, sir,” Steve humoured him with a salute, earning a wink.

As your neighbour walked away with a fresh topic for his Sunday tea party, Steve turned his attention to you again, eyes searching, wide, apologetic – but also soft, taking in the view of you, revelling in it.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered lowly, the lopsided smile you loved so much gracing his face, once again pulling at that damn split lip. You grimaced a bit, the sight of him almost brining tears into your eyes; the gentleness and the remnants of fight punching you straight in the gut.

His eyes fluttered close when you lifted your hand and traced the line of the bruise on his face with the lightest pressure you were capable of. This time, tears definitely prickled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, cupping Steve’s cheek and pulling him close.

“Oh come here, babe,” you breathed out, fingers carding through his hair as he leaned his head on your shoulder, lips brushing the crook of your neck, strong arms embracing around your form.

He was warm and big and held you a bit tighter than necessary and dammit, you loved your sweet of heart and occasionally dumb of ass boyfriend. Boyfriend, who was crazy in love with you. Sometimes with emphasis on the crazy.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he muttered, nose nuzzling the sensitive skin of your neck, breathing in deeply. You pretended it didn’t do things to you as he did everything to get lost in you and leave all the bad behind. You failed.

“You’re totally paying for fixing my door.”

Well, maybe not failed entirely.

“Of course,” Steve assured you dutifully, no hint of humour in his voice.

It broke you on a completely new level; he was serious. Dammit you loved this man!

“I missed you too,” you finally admitted and this time, he did chuckle, squeezing you even tighter, hand running up and down your back. Without any warning, he tightened his grip and lifted you from the floor so you had to cling to him entirely, causing you to gasp.

You never got the chance to gather your wits and comment on that, because an annoyed voice of a certain redhead sounded from your laptop.

“…alright, you crazy kids, you had your cuddles. Now, Rogers, should I tell Fury you’re coming back for the debriefing or should we just finally change with the times and do it over Zoom?”

Clutching Steve’s waist and shoulder, face contentedly in his chest, you voted for the latter.

Steve Rogers masterlist

Lovely divider by whimsicalrogers​.

A fic from collection ‘This was supposed to be a drabble.’  Also, I couldn’t for the love of god figure out a better title.

I hope you enjoyed at least a bit :-*

Thank you for reading!

[sinner-as-saint]

Daddy’s Little Pet.

Steve Rogers x Reader

Run-through: You and Steve are the epitome of ‘opposites attract’. He is the American hero, a super soldier who is known for his bravery, and righteousness and for being the one leading the Avengers. You, on the other hand, are a well-known fashion designer in the city. Creator and owner of your own brand, and elite boutique. At first glance, it doesn’t seem like you and Steve would be compatible. But you surprisingly are. And behind closed doors, in secrecy – you two are each other’s solace, each other’s definition of home. He’s your strong, loving and caring man. And you, his lovely, little pet whom he adores more than life itself.

Themes: daddy kink, slight pet play (nicknames only), smut, fluff, age gap

a/n: if you’re not comfortable with any of the themes mentioned above, it’s really simple – don’t read this.

You sighed in delight once you slid into the backseat of your car.

Your driver began driving at once. You smiled at the thought of finally being able to relish in the comforts of your home after a long day. Today had been exceptionally tiring. First, you felt a little low, creatively. Then, you received a call from one of your boutique managers. One of your staff members called to let you know that one of your regular clients was acting up and being picky and causing a ruckus.

So you had to leave your office and all your unfinished projects and drive to your boutique where you handled the situation, thankfully.

You grimaced at the thought of the stuck up client you had to deal with today. Ugh, snobbish rich people… You were glad you were nothing like those who think that just because they have money, the world revolves around them.

You were extremely well-off yourself, but you kept yourself grounded instead of flaunting your fortune constantly. You agreed, you did indeed make much, much more money than others your age but you also worked your ass off for that. The fashion industry is a lot more hectic and competitive than it seems. And being the creator and owner of your own elite fashion brand was no joke, it was a lot of hard work and resilience.

Most people thought that you were simply living the dream life; fashion shows, elegant boutiques, and a large bank account. But they didn’t see the stress, the hard work, the tears and the pressure of having to constantly be creative and managing all your staff and your teams. Work took a toll on you often.

But that’s when you knew you could always rely on your loving boyfriend to make you feel better. Steve. The world knew him as the famous super soldier, the man out of time, leader of the Avengers, Captain America. But to you, he was the best partner you could ask for.

You felt giddy already, just thinking of being in his loving, strong arms later tonight. You checked your phone to see if there’s any messages from him. He texted you all day, and his last text said that he would be a little more late than usual.

You frowned, but got over it. His work was important for him, and everyone else. Besides, that would give you an hour or two to spend in the gym while you wait for him to come home it seems. And you really needed to let all that work stress out somehow. Normally you would prefer Steve getting it out of your system by fucking you into your mattress, but it seems that a nice work out session will have to do today.

 You got home, got changed then made your way to your well-furnished indoor gym. You were never an athletic person. You got the gym installed when Steve moved into your mansion. Then over time, you found yourself using it as well. And you hated to admit it, but it made you feel healthier.

An hour and a half later, you took your sweaty self into the shower and took a long, warm shower. You could sense yourself starting to feel a lot lighter than earlier. You were excited to just order diner and slip into one of your many onesies and watch a movie while you wait for Steve.

You giggled to yourself under the shower. That sounds like an amazing plan after a long day of feeling not so creative and dealing with rude clients.

And you did just that. You placed an order for some of yours and Steve’s favorites, then you went and skimmed through the countless, comfy onesie PJs in your closet. You chose the soft, brown, fluffy bear one with cute ears on the hood, and lots of little bear faces scattered all across it. Onesies were the comfiest thing in the world, and you would fight anyone who said any different. You slipped it on, closed the zipper and walked out of your grand closet.

You grabbed Sir Biscuit – your favorite teddy which you had since your childhood and grabbed your computer and plopped into your large, comfy bed. You put Harry Potter on. “Now we wait for my darling boyfriend, Biscuit.” You snuggled your teddy and watched your movie without a care in the world.

Steve would be here soon, and he’d take care of you. And you wouldn’t have to worry about a single thing. You were quite the control freak in your professional life, so it felt liberating to just not have to carry the burden of control while Steve was around. Plus, he was the love of your life. And there’s nothing you enjoyed more than being carefree in his arms.

Not even half an hour later, around 7.30 p.m. you heard the alarm beep; signaling that someone had entered your gated property. You smiled brightly as you waited impatiently for him. Minutes later, you heard the alarm again, signaling that someone was in through the front door.

And then you heard his voice. “Babe, I’m home.” He called out. And you jumped out of bed, ran down the hallway and down the stairs, crossed the living room and rushed into Steve’s open arms.

He was standing by the foyer, waiting for you to run into his arms like you did almost every day.

“Stevie!” you squealed. He laughed as you tried your hardest to hug him as tightly as you could. He wasn’t dressed in his tactical, navy suit today given he wasn’t out on a mission, but simply sat through briefing and planning for future missions all day.

The black leather jacket he wore smelt familiar and comforting. It smelt like him. You snuggled up to him, rubbing your face into his chest. He chuckled, his laughter rumbling in his chest right under your ear. “Hello kitten, you missed me?” he asked, giving you a kiss on top of your head.

You smiled and looked up at him, and with just one look into his ocean blue eyes, you forgot all the worries you had. “I did.” You whispered. His heart did its little happy dance as he took in your appearance. You looked so pretty he could cry.

He playfully gasped. “Wait a minute.” He held you at arms’ length and scanned you head to toe. “You’re not a kitten today, are you?” his words made you laugh and so did the fake shocked expression on his face. “You’re a fluffy, little bear!” he pulled you closer and attacked your face with a lots of loud, open mouth kisses, always the affectionate man he is. “Hi little bear!”

You giggled, playfully pushing him away. He walked the two of you backwards into the living room, then he stopped assaulting you with kisses and just held you in his arms. “I missed you so much.” You mumbled into his chest.

He felt bad because it was true and he missed you too. “I know,” he cooed. “I know I have been coming home late every day this week.” He held your chin and leaned in for a sweet kiss. “But I will make it up to you, okay? How about we have a little getaway this weekend, huh? Just me and my lovely girlfriend, yes?” He gave you a big smooch on the lips. “Would you like that?” he asked, and you got visibly excited.

Oh yes, you terribly needed a little vacay!

You nodded frantically, Steve chuckled and held your hand as you two walked back upstairs into your shared bedroom. “Now,” he sat you down on the edge of the bed. “Let me shower real quick, I’ll be back before you know it.”  

You nodded, pouting just a little that he was leaving you alone again. Then again, he needed a shower to relax as well, so you agreed without being too much of a brat. You watched your movie until Steve emerged from the bathroom again, with just dark grey sweatpants on.

You almost drooled a little when you watched him move around, putting his towel in the laundry basket and what not. His muscles flexed deliciously and the ratio of his broad shoulder to his lean waist made you tingly in specific places. You clenched your thighs together until his calming blue eyes met yours again.

You couldn’t help but pout and extended your arms out in front of you. He purposely just stood there and watched you for a moment. You were truly the light of his life. Sometimes, like right now, he was torn between wanting to be balls deep in you and fuck you until you forgot your own name or wanting to have you on his lap and make you giggle with his terrible jokes as you tell him about your day.

He gave in immediately. He walked over to you and slid beside you in bed, wrapping his muscular arms around your warm body.

You instantly melted once you were in his arms. And before he could say anything, he felt your warm mouth latching onto his skin. He thought it was just a kiss but then he felt you starting to suck on the skin at the side of his throat and nibbling on it. And as much as he enjoyed your touch, he had to pull away.

He looked down at you sternly, “Hey,” his voice a little more serious than earlier, “what did we say about biting and leaving marks on visible places?” he chided playfully, reminding you that he loved it when you left your marks all over him, just not in places where the rest of the team could see.

Your relationship was no secret, but he still preferred not to show up at work with love bites all over him.

You whined and hid your face into his bare chest. “Sorry, Stevie.” You whined. He smiled, stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head.

“It’s okay, my little pet.” He cradled your head, already playing to the mood you were in. “You bite on your teddy rather than me.” he patted the spot on the bed next to you but couldn’t feel your plush toy under the covers. He checked the other side and still couldn’t find it. “Oh no, little bear.” He sounded so concerned. “We lost your teddy.” He fake gasped.

You giggled and reached down under the covers and pulled it out. “It’s right here.” You said. He watched the teddy. One moment it was in your grasp, and the next you tossed it far away on the bed. Steve looked down at you, confused.

“You don’t want him, baby?” he asked. You shook your head no. “What do you want then?” he asked again. You still shook your head no. He tilted his head to the side and look at you.

You got out of the blankets and got on top of him. He smiled as you straddled his thighs and made yourself comfortable on his lap. You leaned in to give him a loud, open mouth kiss on his lips. You slid your body further down his legs and smiled innocently at him.

“What do you want, you little troublemaker?” he asked, knowing damn well what you wanted. He just liked hearing you say it.

You palmed him through his sweatpants. “I want you.” He was hard already, you could feel it. Steve looked enamored. The look in your eyes reminded him of the first night he met you; the most elegant, poised and gorgeous woman he had ever seen.

Oh babygirl… Steve smiled at you and leaned back, making himself comfortable in your bed. “You want daddy’s cock, huh?” he asked, and watched your face light up as you bent down and pressed an innocent kiss to his clothed erection then looked up at him and nodded excitedly.

He chuckled. “Go on, babygirl. Make daddy feel good.” He leaned against the headboard and watched you as you took your time and kissed every inch his clothed erection. Your hands lazily lowered the waistband of his sweats and his underwear to free his erected cock. Then again, you kissed your way up and down his erected cock. You circled your tongue around his tip and he groaned quietly. You giggled, knowing the effect you had on him. You wrapped your hand around his cock and placed your mouth on his tip. Steve grunted and held your head gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth.

You took him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. “Relax your throat, baby.” He spoke softly as he pushed himself into your mouth entirely. He twitched against your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head around him, and you tasted some of his pre cum trickling down your throat.

You took him out of your mouth and licked his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. He swore under his breath as you dragged your tongue over the slit on his tip very lazily. He looked down at you with a smirk on his face. “Don’t tease me, babygirl.” He cooed, stroking your hair and moving it out of your face.

You looked up at him and giggled, you took him back into your mouth and sucked on his cock until he began gently thrusting his hips up and pushing his cock further into your mouth. He loved the sight of your spit coating his cock, and your lips wrapped around him. The gasps and moans which escaped his lips made you squirm and added to the dampness which was forming in your underwear. His words had the same effects on you.

“Fuck… you’re such a good girl, aren’t you baby?” he bit his lip and threw his head back as you took all of him in your warm mouth. “That’s it kitten, keep going…fuck,” he was falling apart hard and fast.

He hissed and moaned loudly, shamelessly as he felt himself coming undone. You took him out of your mouth and circled your tongue around his tip rapidly until he came all over your mouth. He gasped and swore under his breath as he came. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to catch all of his cum in your mouth. Some it trickled down your chin, your neck and even got on your soft PJs.

Steve looked down at you and chuckled at how you were covered in his cum. “Look at you, you’re all messy, baby.” He stroked your hair and watched you stick your tongue out and lick him clean, gathering as much of his cum as you could. “You’ve got cum all over you, haven’t you?” he sat up straighter once you licked him clean and pulled his underwear and sweatpants up again. He tilted your head up so you look at him. “Seems like I need to change you now, huh?” he asked, knowing you would just lay there like a lazy person and let him to it because as your boyfriend, it’s his duty – your words, not his.

You bit your lip and nodded, smirking just a little. Oh yes!

 He had you lay down on your back, legs dangling at the edge of your bed as he carefully got you out of your soiled onesie and cleaned you with a wet cloth. Halfway through cleaning you, he left to go get your favorite body lotion. “You didn’t put lotion on after your shower today, did you?” he asked.

“Nope!” you answered, getting all excited because you loved it when he applied lotion on you, and you knew you’d also get a nice massage out of it. “I was waiting for you to do it for me.” You answered truthfully.

He chuckled, looking down at your bare body, then grabbed the lotion bottle and squirted some on his hand and smeared it all over the palms of his hand. “Can’t do anything without my help, can you?” he started at your shoulders and rubbed his hands all over your arms and chest. “Daddy has to do everything for you, doesn’t he?” he asked again, massaging down your sides and over your stomach.

You giggled and nodded. He smiled down at you and leaned down to give you a brief kiss right on your bellybutton. “It’s okay baby, I love to take care of you.” Steve meant what he said. He took his time and massaged your body, playfully teasing you and touching you in all the right places. Once satisfied, he had you turn around so he could give your back the same attention.

He kissed your butt while he was at it. And his large hands felt so good on your body that you were humming and moaning in no time. He could see you desperately, discretely move your hips against nothing, and he purposely stopped just when you began to get excited.

He heard you whine under your breath. You turned back around and faced him. He leaned down to kiss your lips and mumbled, “You smell so good, baby.” He kissed his way down your neck and all the way down your stomach and stopped right above your core. You whined again when you saw the mischievous look in his eyes. “Now tell me, which PJs do you want today?”

You took a moment to think about it, then answered, “The kitten one.” It was another favorite of yours. Steve nodded and went to go get it from your closet which almost resembled a store in itself. He shook his head, smiling at the amount of shoes and clothes and jewelry you had. He found the onesie and brought it back to where you were, waiting for him patiently.

Steve began putting the PJs on you, and once he was done he realized his mistake. “Uh, baby?” he called out, fixing the hood and the ears of the onesie. You looked at him and waited. “I made a mistake. I accidentally grabbed the puppy one.” He said and you looked down and giggled at the many paws prints on the onesie. He sighed and kissed your forehead. “But it’s okay, now you’re a little puppy!” he gave you another loud kiss on the cheek. “And you’re the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen!”

You laughed and sat up again, folding your legs under you. “It’s okay Stevie, old men make mistakes all the time.” You said, playfully. It was this on-going joke between the two of you, regarding Steve’s age.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Yeah you think?” he grabbed you and pulled you close again, tickling you until you laughed and thrashed around like a mad woman. He let you go only after you apologized, breathlessly.

“I’m sorry, Stevie! Please!” you spoke through giggles and he finally stopped.

“Come here, baby.” He plopped down on the bed and pulled you to his side. You immediately snuggled up to him and lifted one of your legs up to place it over his thighs. He wrapped his arms around you and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

You pushed your face into his chest and held on tightly to him. You had a smile on your face just thinking about how much happier you were with him in your life. You were a completely different woman before you met Steve. But now, you were just happier.

“Tell me about your day, babe.” he asked, after a while of just playing with your hair and breathing in your sweet scent. You smelt of strawberries and lily of the valley and it was Steve’s favorite scent in the whole world. He wondered at times, about how lost he would be if he didn’t find you when he did. You were the best thing in his life, in more than one ways, you definitely made his life worth living.

“Hmm,” you rubbed your face against his chest then looked up at him. “Same old, boring. I wasn’t feeling too creative today. Then a lady was being rude to my staff so I had to drive to the boutique and calm her down. People can be so snobbish sometimes, it’s crazy.” You paused and looked up at Steve, he looked really interested in the drama. “But then she bought a couple of my bags and an expensive evening gown so I made a lot of money.” You beamed at him.

He chuckled. Your days were always so much more interesting than his. “That’s good, you deserve it. You work so hard, I know.” he kissed the top of your head and secured his arms around you.

Then you asked him about his day. And he told you the same thing he always did. Meeting, mission plans, trying to get Bucky and Sam not to kill each other while arguing over every little thing. “We went over our plans for the next mission.” He talked about his day, “And then I missed my baby and I couldn’t wait to come home to her.” He spoke, leaning down to kiss your face again.

You giggled. “I’m right here.” You looked up and gave him a kiss on his neck and snuggled closer to him.

Steve tightened his grip around you. “I know you are, babe. You’re the best part of my day.” He whispered against the top of your head.

You two cuddled for a while, just relishing each other’s touch. Steve ran a soothing hand you’re your back and occasionally looked down at you, carefree in his arms. He would smile and kiss the top of your head each time you murmured or scooted closer to his body.

He spoke up after a while, “I’m hungry.” he waited for you to look up at him.

“I ordered food.” You let him know.

He smiled and caressed your cheek. “I know, baby. I saw you got my favorite dessert as well.” He looked down at you with a familiar look in his eyes. A playful look you knew all too well. “But daddy wants something sweeter.” He added.

You seemed a little confused, although the tone of his voice did hint at how he was definitely up to no good. “Like chocolate or candy?” you asked.

He chuckled. “No, sweeter than that.” He leaned down closer to your ear. “Know what it is?” he asked. You purposely shook your head side to side. He gently held your chin and whispered excitedly, “It’s you!”

You fake gasped, playfully. You laughed and got up and tried to run away from him. Steve chuckled as he chased after you. “Come here, you naughty little puppy!” he called out after you as you ran towards the closet, in hopes of hiding in there and locking the door, bur he caught you before you could.

You laughed and struggled your way out of his grasp once again. You ran to the other side of the room and almost made your way to the bathroom but he caught you again and tackled you down onto the nearby velvet couch.

“Caught you!” he tickled you again until you were breathless from laughing too hard. Then he stopped and leaned in to kiss you deeply. His touch was gently and passionate, he held you as close as possible and shoved his tongue past your lips. He hummed and moaned as he invaded your mouth. But he wanted more, so much more. “Can I taste you, baby?” he asked, pulling away and mumbling against your mouth.

You whined at the voice he used; deep and low. His words sent vibrations through your entire body. You nodded quickly and he smirked against your mouth as he slowly unzipped your onesie and kissed his way down your body as he went.

Steve settled in between your legs once he unzipped your onesie entirely. “Now, hold still for daddy. Okay?” he whispered, face dangerously close to your core. You bit your lip and nodded, excited and desperate already. You’ve been thinking about him and that mouth of his all day at work and now you just couldn’t wait.

He placed his hands on your thighs and spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core without a second thought; the lower half of his face completely submerged into your dripping core. You moaned out loud involuntarily as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your sensitive bud mercilessly.

He moaned as he relished your taste. He’d been thinking about you all day, and now he finally had you and he wasn’t planning on stopping until you beg him to stop. Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers.

Your hands gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. Wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, and the sight was just as sinful. A man as powerful and strong as him, on his knees on the couch, his head in between your legs and his mouth touching your body in the most intimate way possible. Pure adoration and an unusual power washed over you.

You whimpered under his touch, feeling his beard rubbing against your soft skin; it burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. You moaned out loud as your back arched off the couch for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you.

“Cum for me, kitten, come on.” he whispered and got back to assault your sensitive spot with his warm and wet tongue; relishing your taste. You didn’t have to be told twice, the pressure was building up nicely as well. So with a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and gushed out all over his face. He didn’t stop even then, he kept at it while your orgasm washed over you; lapping up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You arched your back and whined as he kept going on and on even after you came all over his mouth. You mumbled, your voice strained and high pitched due to the sensitivity, “Stevie… I- I already came.” You tried to scoot away from his mouth because it felt unbearably good.

His grip tightened around your thighs, and he pulled you against his mouth again. “No no, don’t you move away from me. I’m not done yet.” He spoke and went back to teasing you with his tongue. And he stood by his words earlier, he indeed ate you out until you begged him that you couldn’t take it anymore. “Can’t take it, huh?” he rapidly kissed his way up your body again. “Would you like daddy’s cock instead?” he cooed, settling his hips in between yours.

You looked up at him with your lips parted, breathless and worn out but you still nodded in hunger. Oh you wanted him bad. He chuckled at your needy state. “You want daddy’s big cock inside you, don’t you baby?” he whispered against your cheek as he lowered his sweatpants and underwear just enough to free his cock. He was rock hard.

You nodded again, whimpering already. He lifted his hips to align his erected cock to your entrance. You instinctively spread your legs apart to give him more room. With a slow, steady push, he inserted his length into you. You shuddered as you felt all of him filling you up. You heard his ragged breaths as he seated himself completely inside you and waited, giving your body time to adjust to him.

“Is this what you wanted, kitten?” he asked, gripping your jaw and causing you to look up at him. You could talk given how full you were. Steve smirked, pulling out just a little and pushing back into you again. You closed your eyes and moaned, arching your back off the surface of the couch again. He smirked at he looked down at you. “You wanted daddy to stretch you out like this, didn’t you baby?”

Steve leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth while he began moving in and out of you. He pulled away from your mouth and looked down at you with pure hunger and determination in his eyes.

He sped up just a little, rocking his hips against yours and his hand reached up to wrap around your neck gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you again. “That feels good, baby?” he asked, and you nodded while you gripped the couch and his arm like your life depended on it.

He stretched you out deliciously, perfectly. Filling you up and reaching all the right places as he went. He moaned and growled right against your mouth, clenching his teeth or occasionally biting down on your lip as he pounded into you relentlessly. “You’ve been thinking about daddy’s cock all day, haven’t you?” he spoke as he sped up into you again. You could only nod senselessly, overwhelmed by how good he felt deep inside you.

He chuckled and tightened his grip around your throat just a little. “Yeah? You naughty little kitten.” He leaned down to kiss your lips as he lifted one of your legs and hooked it to his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you. “You wanted daddy so bad, didn’t you?” he whispered against your lips and he slowed down for just a moment to hear you moan wantonly before he sped up again, fucking you relentlessly. “You wanted daddy to show you that he fucking owns you, didn’t you babygirl?”

The higher he took you and the closer he felt his release coming, the filthier his mouth got. “You belong to me you, you hear me?” he gave you messy kisses. “Your little cunt is mine. Only mine.” he growled in your ear and goose bumps erupted all over your body. Steve quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before; the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the grand room.

He was all you could focus on. The sound of his voice. His body pressing down on yours. His cock inside you. You walls beginning to clench around him. His moans, his hot breath against your cheek, his messy kisses. Just him.

He took you higher…and higher… and higher until you felt a tear escape your eye. “Please… please…” you whined, begging pathetically and unable to arrange your words or your thoughts any better. “Please…”

He scoffed, and tightened his grip around your throat yet again to get your attention. Your eyes were droopy in lust. His were too, but he was much more in control of his body than you were. “Please what? You want to cum around daddy, is that it?” he completed your pleas. You nodded again, unable to talk as he pounded into you, so good that it made you want to scream. “Go ahead kitten, cum for me.” He whispered breathlessly.

Steve didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core.

He fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt around him; wet and warm all for him. Your walls clenched around him violently and your body arched off the couch. You felt your second release approaching while you recovered from the first one. Your leg around his waist was numb, and your body moved along with his like a toy; yet, you wanted more of what he had to give. You would take whatever he gave you.  

You felt your mind clouding with lust and getting foggy again. His large frame hovering above you as he tightened his grip around your throat just a little more. “Cum for me again kitten.” He growled through clenched teeth, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him. Your body trembled as you came for the second time in a row, walls tightening around his length. You came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you until he came as well.

You felt his thrust getting sloppy and irregular until he came to a stop and just growled as he came violently; moaning and swearing. His warm cum shot at your walls and some of it trickled out of you when he carefully removed his length from your entrance.

Steve watched you intently. Your hands moved on their own, while your eyes were still closed. You gently reached down to touch your sensitive and throbbing core, it was wet everywhere. Steve chuckled and moved your hand away; replacing it with his own.

He didn’t hesitate before shoving two fingers inside you again. You moaned at how sensitive you were but then you opened your eyes to look into his wild, ocean blue ones. “You want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you baby?” he whispered, his mind a little hazy from how hard he just fucked you. You whined and bit your lower lip and just nodded.

“Yes, please…”

He chuckled. “You take whatever I give you, huh?” he whispered and used his free hand to release your lip from in between your teeth before he leaned down to kiss your open mouth again. His tongue invaded your mouth like he owned it while he fingered you. You almost came again as his fingers stroked your walls sinfully. “You want daddy to just finger his cum back into your dirty little cunt, yeah is that what you want?” he asked, knowing damn well what you wanted. But he just like seeing you struggle to talk after you’re all nice and fucked. “Don’t wanna waste daddy’s cum at all. You want all of it, don’t you baby?”

You nodded and mumbled something which he didn’t quite hear. He smirked. “You can’t even talk, kitten.” He kissed you again, slipping his finger in and out of you faster. “It’s okay, baby.” he gave you another messy kiss and mumbled, “Are you going to cum for me again, huh? Cum for me, come on,” he pushed his face into your neck as your walls clenched around him desperately again as you came a third time.

He chuckled as you moaned loudly, body shaking and thighs clenching around his hand.

“You’re always such a good girl.” He kissed the side of your face, hoping to aid in calming you down. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers out of you and stood up to look down at you. You were beautiful mess; covered in his cum and love bites, breathless and sweaty.

Steve helped you up and walked you over to the bathroom. He figured he should run both of you a well-deserved bath. He lowered you down into the warm water and joined you shortly after. Despite the soreness in between your legs and the pain on either side of your hips, you immediately climbed onto his lap as soon as he sat down.

He chuckled and let you cling to him. He wrapped his arms around you and you laid your head on his shoulder, straddling his thighs.

“Thank you.” you said after a while. He ran his hand down your back over and over again.

“What for, babe?” he asked and felt you pull away. You looked into his eyes and cupped his face in your hands.

“For taking such good care of me. For putting up with whatever I do, and loving me even when I’m clingy and annoying.” You said with a smile.

He shook his head softly. “You’re never clingy and annoying. Besides, I love taking care of you. It’s my favorite part of the day.” He leaned in to kiss your lips.

You smiled through the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Steve.” you mumbled against his mouth.

He smiled. “I love you too, babe. You’re my everything.”

You held on to Steve for a long while in the tub. Just hugging him and relishing his presence and his soft touch. Steve liked having you this close. It was his favorite thing after spending an entire day being away from you because of work.

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. Finally, after a long day just like yours, he was home. Home to the love of his life; you – the woman who owned his entire heart, soul and being. His favorite girl.

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 5 S2)

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

Warnings: abductions, kidnapping, forced unconsciousness, electroshocks (non explicit).

A/N: Listen. Listen. The chronologies... we already knew those were weird in this story and we accepted that. Now, we have to also accept the whole multiverse thingy being even more weird, because, yes, I'm mentioning OSCORP. Let's deal with it like mature people *screams into abyss of no return*.

“Your dirty little secret? Oh, come on. You gotta be kidding!”, exclaimed Steve, slamming the table. He immediately looked at you, “I’m sorry”.

He said sorry because it was three in the morning, Narfi was sound asleep and you all kept bickering about the coded message. You had peeped in your room several times, only to find, the first two times, Loki and your son reading in silence, each his own book, both neatly tucked under the same weighted blanket and Narfi's head resting on his father's shoulder. The third time, Narfi was asleep and Loki kept reading. The fourth, Narfi was all alone in the king-sized bed and Loki wasn't there. But he hadn't joined the meeting either.

Nobody could figure out what the dirty little secret was, and they all thought it was something Tony did. Like, you know, selling weapons.

“It’s okay, Steve. Listen, this is getting nowhere. And Loki should be here by now, where did you send him?”.

“I didn’t send him, he just… he said he needed to do something that had something to do with… could he have mentioned an old tutor?”, said Bucky, and you furrowed your brows.

“Is he in Asgard, now?”.

“I guess”.

You took your phone out, and tried to call him again, but he didn’t answer. There wasn't any phone signal in Asgard. Why would he go in there without saying anything?

“Look, all I’m saying is, the message was through JARVIS, and you’re the one with the most filthy secrets in here”, said Thor.

“Are you serious?”, spat Tony, pointing at Bucky. “This one was a hydra assassin”, pointing at Natasha “this one is an assassin”, pointing at Thor “we have no idea what’s going on with your thousand and half long life”, and finally pointing at you “there are no records whatsoever of anything you’ve done before my internship. So, no. I’m not the only one with the dirty secrets here. And, by the way, they’re dirty but public”.

“Yes. The billions you’ve won by selling weapons are very well known”.

“Shut your mouth”.

“Listen, this will get us nowhere. We could be in danger if we don't do something about this so if anyone is under any little suspicion of what a dirty secret they could be cultivating, this is the time to say it", you mediated, still calling Loki and getting directly to the voicemail.

"What could we possibly be having, Y/n?", asked Bruce tiredly.

"Any weird and innovative lab experiment? Something that could be used as a weapon? A disease? A cure? A mutation? Anything?", and you stopped on your words immediately. "Oh, no". As you opened your eyes widely, about to run to Narfi's room, Loki picked up the phone and you put it on speaker, pausing your fear. "Love! Where are you?".

Silence. Silence in the whole room, and a flickering light kind of sound. And then the unmistakable sound of a bad microphone on the other line, white noises, whispers to which you couldn't figure out the words.

"It's easy, really", said a rusty voice from the other side of the line. Everyone put on their best panic faces. You could feel your heartbeat on your throat. Not again. Not goddamn again, someone kidnapped one of you. This wasn't the kind of mission you wanted to join to get back on your feet. "You give us what we want, Mr. Stark, and we give you the man".

You looked at Tony and he huffed in frustration. He opened his mouth to speak, but on the background of the call you could hear Loki's unimpressed voice,

"The God. I'm not a man".

"Loki, are you okay? Can you hear me? Where are you?", you tried.

"I'm okay. These idiots think that they can…", he began saying, but a buzzing noise cut him off, along with a muffled screaming and something you figured was an electroshock took him out of the conversation.

"What do you want?", asked Stark. "Who are you?".

"We want money, Mr. Stark. A lot of it, to found our project", explained the voice. "And the other thing we need for the project. We could do with this one, but I'm sure you could give us a better sample".

"What is he talking about, Tony?".

"You think you can be more specific, dear?", asked Tony, losing his patience.

"Imagine a supersoldier, a superior being like that, but with ice powers, Mr. Stark. A man that's a mortal weapon itself", explained the kidnapper. "This one is particularly alright. But we will need a lot of him".

"What are you saying?".

"The frost giant. We want his blood".

They cut the conversation and Bucky grabbed your shoulder as you began to panic.

"Y/n, before jumping to this mission you should leave Narfi with someone strong enough to protect him", intervened Thor. You looked at him and sighed.

"Fine. Loki can't hear a word of this, alright?".

"Let it in my hands. I'll also ask Heimdall", he assured you and you squeezed his hand.

"Thank you", you told him, and traced the call. You did it in a few minutes and walked to Narfi’s room, to tell him where he would go. You wondered how you’d keep him calm. Usually Loki is the one that brought calmness to the situations, and this time around you had to be the one to keep calm and manage it all. You also wondered if he was capable of escaping on his own or if the kidnappers knew who they were dealing with and got him too restrained to run. Electroshocks. Loki’s weakness (anyone’s, really), so you guessed they knew better.

You knocked on Narfi’s door and he let you in with a flick of his wrist. Purple lights around the door made it disappear and he shifted his expressions from panic to disappointment really quickly.

“I’m so sorry, I…”, he began, but you walked hurriedly to him.

“Don’t worry about it, Narfi. Listen”, you said, and kneeled in front of him to reach his own height. You grabbed his tiny hand, and he paid close attention. “Daddy’s in trouble, and uncle Buck and I are going to help him come back home, alright? He’s fine, you don’t need to worry”, you explained the best you could.

“Can I come with, please, please? Daddy taught me things that could be useful, please?”.

“Don’t you wanna go with grandma, better?”, you smiled at him, hoping he’d accept and you wouldn’t have to take him against his wishes, “come on, darling, she wants to teach you some new tricks”.

Narfi smiled at those words and you sighed in relief.

“How long are you gonna take?”.

“I’m not sure. Couple of days at most”.

“Is daddy on a mission?”.

“Yeah”.

“Is he winning?”.

“I’m sure he is”.

“Is he cutting people with his new dagger?”.

“What do you mean new dag… wait, no, he’s not… hurting anyone, alright? Just… pack your things”.

“I hope he someday teaches me to throw knives like him”.

“Pack your toothbrush!”, you said from the door, and whispered to yourself, “dear Lord, I’m not letting Loki train at his sight again”.

As you left his room for him to get ready, you hurried your steps to meet the team. You tripped and fell over with someone’s leg. When you got up, hurting from the hit, you realized you tripped over Steve’s unconscious body. Looking around, the whole team seemed to have passed out completely.

“JARVIS!”, you called, your voice less calm than you would’ve liked to.

“Yes, Mx. Y/n?”.

“‘Yes, Mx. Y/n?’ What the hell happened here? Take their vitals!”, you rushed to Tony’s side and took his pulse. He seemed asleep. Just in case, you covered your nose and mouth with your sleeve.

“According to my database, they all seem to be in perfect condition. There might be some sort of a substance in the air. Should I alert Mr. Laufeyson as he comes back?”.

“Oh, God”, you realized.

Narfi.

You ran up to his room, knocking everything on your way to him. But as you didn’t even need to open an invisible door, you realized he wasn’t there. The room was completely empty.

Half an hour passed, and in the middle you ran all the way around the Tower, trying to unsuccessfully find your son hiding somewhere. But no, you were sure. You had already some theory of what could’ve happened to him and where he could be. And you didn’t like that idea at all. Oh, no. You much rather the Allfather keeping him forever than the alternative.

You poured a bit of the chemical mix you managed to prepare despite your trembling hands on the room’s vaporizer, and everyone began slowly recovering consciousness. Tony coughed up a blue liquid, and looked at it without much clue of what happened.

“Amitriptyline”, you told him, and he furrowed his brows. “In this dosage can make saliva blue, besides urine”, you explained what he hadn’t asked.

“But what for? I’m not depressed”.

“It’s for blocking whatever you’ve been given to get passed out. I know their tricks”, you vaguely explained, but, in all honesty, you really did not want to explain why you knew antidepressants blocked the effects of that substance.

“Their? What just happened?”.

“Where is my brother?!”, beamed Thor, ready to guilt him on it.

“This is not on Loki”, you said, taking a notepad out of your pocket and scribbling down some things while Bucky, Steve, Sam, Tony and Natasha got up and approached you cautiously. Thor began looking up, still trying to figure out if there was any of his brother’s magic involved. “They took Narfi. We have to act quickly, alright?”.

“Oh God, you’re not serious”, said Bucky, lowering his voice.

“They said… they said they wanted Loki’s blood”, recalled Natasha. “Loki’s blood, his heir. Not his actual blood”, she realized. You nodded.

“They want to mix human DNA with Jötun DNA and do that weird icy supersoldier mix, that terrible idea. That’s why they wanted Loki, to get his pure Jötun cells, and then get Narfi, to see how the chromosome pairs work. They want to experiment with my child”, you blurted out with your heart on your chest. “This, this right now, is an important mission. So we all better do this right now”.

“Wait, so what’s your plan of approach? Go to whatever place you think they are and go get them?”, said Steve. “I know you’re stressed and you have every right to be, but think. We need a plan”.

“We don’t need a plan, we need action, right now”, you said, unrecognizable words coming out of your mouth.

“Y/n”, mediated Tony. “Listen. We’ll figure it out. Rest of the team, to my office. You stay here and do not move even a hair, you hear me? You’re in no condition to get on board with this. Let us do this and you can help from a distance”.

“No way. There is no way you’re leaving me out of rescuing my own son”.

“Exactly because it’s your kid we’re talking about. Listen, a surgeon can’t operate on their own child. No, no. Don’t argue with me. Close your mouth. Barnes, make sure they don’t do anything stupid, wouldn’t you?”.

And with that, he left.

You and Bucky stayed in silence for about ten seconds, fidgeting with the notepad you had in between your fingers, ready to tear it to pieces out of anxiousness. After that, you said,

“Rescuing my child is not doing something stupid, right?”.

He shrugged and huffed out.

“I guess not. What’s your plan?”.

“Where would you go if you were a kidnapper with a very important child to perform very illegal experiments?”.

“I… don’t know”.

“I do”.

“What?”.

“Remember when you asked what my major was?”.

“Yes...?”.

“I… well, before the stark internship I worked in a very… odd place, it made experiments. Genetic experiments. The famous OSCORP, you know the place. They were the ones doing all the spider shit and Peter got bit by a spider in there. I worked there, and there was something that… never added up. The experiments grew worse and worse, more immoral, more dangerous. I couldn’t take them anymore and I left without leaving a trace of me in the public eye. Or so I thought”.

“You think your kid might be in OSCORP?”.

“I’m afraid so”.

“No more waiting then, let’s get the motorbike”.

“Shouldn’t we alert the team?”.

“What, so they can go by themselves, without you, without a plan and without your knowledge about that place? Besides, Loki is already in there, right?”.

“You’re the voice of reason, sometimes, Barnes”, you said, tossing him a pair of keys and his jacket. And with that, you two headed to OSCORP without warning.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @theonewiththenerds , @vicmc624 , @spiderlaufeyson )

[iam93percentstardust]

Fireflies

I wrote a little ironfalcon & sarahbucky fic! Thank you to @warmachinesocks for sensitivity reading it for me, I really appreciate the help!

This fic is also on ao3 but tumblr hates links so no links for you

~

The first thing Bucky sees when he walks through the door of Sarah’s house—Sarah’s house! He gets to stay with Sarah!—is Tony Stark washing the dishes. He stops in the doorway, not sure why he’s so surprised to see Stark there—he’d known that Stark had retired somewhere quiet after the battle with Thanos—but he definitely is. He hesitates, not sure if he can—or should—say something. Sure, he and Tony had talked things out after the battle, cleared the air between them, but he’d assumed that was based on them never having to see each other again.

“It’s rude to lurk in doorways,” Tony says, before he can think of anything to say.

“Uh,” Bucky says intelligently. Then, “What are you doing here?” He winces. His ma would absolutely have something to say about how rude he’s being if she could hear him.

Fortunately, Tony just chuckles and says, “I live here. What are you doing here, Freezer Pop?”

“You live here?” Bucky asks.

“Yes,” Sam says from behind him, startling him enough that he jumps. “Now get out of the way, Barnes. You’re blocking the door.”

Bucky steps inside, clutching his overnight bag in front of him like the shield he hadn’t thought he would need. Sarah and the boys are right behind Sam, and Bucky gives her a shy smile. She smiles back at him before ducking her head, and now that she’s turned away, Bucky looks back at Sam, who has made a beeline straight for Tony.

“Hey sweetheart,” Sam says in the softest voice Bucky has ever heard from him.

Tony leans over to kiss Sam’s cheek. “Hey, honey. How’s the boat?”

“Looking good,” Sarah says. “No thanks to you.” Bucky starts to get a little worried, but Sarah is grinning as she says it and Tony’s expression is one of mock outrage so he relaxes again.

“Excuse you,” Tony says in a faux-offended voice, “I was busy for five years.”

“Yeah, taking care of my boys and being an Avenger, so you’ve said many times. But what, you forgot about my poor boat?”

“Hey, I did offer to help pay for the repairs.”

Sarah’s face softens and she walks over to rub Tony’s metal shoulder, uncovered by the sleeveless shirt he’s wearing. “And that was sweet of you,” she says. “But I could told you I could—”

“—take care of it,” Tony finishes. “Yeah, you said.”

Sam rejoins Bucky by the door and tugs his bag from Bucky’s limp hand. “Come on,” he says, jerking his head toward the living room. “They’re gonna be at it for a while. I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.”

As they’re heading into the living room, Bucky quietly asks, “So how long have you and Stark—”

“Don’t let him hear you call him that,” Sam interrupts. “Just call him Tony, he hates Stark or Mr. Stark or anything else like that. And since 2005. We met working on the EXO-7 project. He was my technician. Got married right after he came back from Afghanistan.”

He remembers Steve telling him about Sam taking the plea deal after the Avengers split. Steve hadn’t been able to understand it, but he thinks about how they’d all understood Clint and Scott taking the same deal for their families and wonders if it was something like that.

“And how did you handle the—uh—”

Sam gives him a flat look. “With a lot of communication and a little bit of make-up sex,” he says. “When you’ve been together as long as we have, that’s something you learn.”

“What, that make-up sex helps?”

“That communication is important. And trust me, it can feel like pulling teeth, trying to get Tony to talk, but it’s worth it.” He plops down on the couch and motions for Bucky to sit down next to him, waiting until Bucky does before he continues, “Speaking of communication, a couple things about Sarah since you’re clearly going to ignore the Bro Code.”

“The Bro Code?”

“Yeah, don’t date sisters of friends, that kind of thing.”

“I don’t think that was a thing in the forties.”

“I’m pretty sure it was.”

“No, I think I’d remember that.”

“Steve didn’t have a sister, why would you remember that? Besides, your memory is as good as swiss cheese, and don’t think I missed you not arguing with me about that friend thing. Anyway, the Bro Code, since you’re ignoring it—”

From where they’re sitting, Bucky can see Sarah in the kitchen, putting away leftovers that someone had brought them while they’d been working. She looks real pretty with the evening sunlight lighting her from behind, making her glow like an angel. Bucky smiles a little, thinking about the way she’d laughed at his horrible jokes.

“Seriously man,” Sam interrupts. “Smitten-with-a-capital-s. Now look, Sarah’s had it rough these last few months. Blipped just like you and me, only she had to come back to a rundown boat and her boys all grown up. Tony did what he could around here, but he was grieving too and he had the duties of being an Avenger on top of taking care of AJ and Cass. He forgot about taking care of the boat and Sarah’s paying for it now. She’s been hurt a lot, so if your intention is something quick and then leaving her just like her husband, it’s not just me you’ll have to answer to. It’s Tony too, and the whole town on top of us. We look out for each other around this area.”

“Yeah, I got that today when the whole town showed up to help out.”

Sam grins and shakes his head, seemingly awed that he and Sarah would inspire enough loyalty for people to come help them. Bucky doesn’t get it. Both Wilson siblings are absolutely incredible. Hell, only a few weeks ago, he himself thought he’d be happy if he never had to deal with Sam ever again and now he’s staying at the man’s family home.

“My point is—” Sam begins.

“Samuel Thomas Wilson, I know you’re not giving that man a shovel talk,” Sarah interjects, coming into the living room, drying her hands on a dish towel. “You’re gonna scare him off, same as you did to all my boyfriends back in high school.”

Sam holds his hands up. “I’m just making sure he knows to treat you right.”

“Believe me, the poor man knows. Besides, I don’t need you to do that. I’m more than capable of making sure he treats me right all by myself.”

Bucky thinks about what that might mean and shivers pleasurably.

“Look at him, you broke the poor guy’s brain,” Tony complains. “AJ and Cass Wilson, can the two of you set the table?”

“Aww Uncle Tony, do we have to?” AJ complains.

“Hmm, how about you set the table or I’ll sell all your toys.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” AJ says, but gets up anyway and joins his brother in the kitchen.

“I might if you keep challenging me,” Tony shoots back, but there’s no heat to his voice and AJ is still grinning as he grabs plates out of the cupboard so Bucky turns back to Sam and Sarah, who have gotten quieter now that they’ve got an audience beyond just him.

“—want to see you taken care of the way you should be,” Sam is saying.

Sarah’s face softens. “Thanks. I don’t need it—”

“—but you should be anyway. After all you’ve done for our family, you deserve it.”

They both glance at Bucky, who smiles quickly to try to assure them that he’s a great option for Sarah. He’d heard some of the things the townspeople were saying about her while they were working on the boat today: she’s an impressive woman and all he wants to do right now is to prove that he’s worthy of her.

“Well,” Sam says eventually. “I guess there are worse people you could go for.”

“Gee, thanks, Sam,” Bucky says flatly.

“No problem, man.” He looks back at Sarah. “Fine, I’ll lay off of him. But the first time he hurts you—”

“—you’ll let me handle it like the grown-up I am?” Sarah finishes firmly, hands on her hips. She seems to decide that the conversation is clearly over because she heads back into the kitchen, swatting Tony away from the sauce on the stovetop with a wooden spoon.

Sam deflates. “Yeah, okay,” he calls after her. “I’ll let you handle it.”

“Hey, I get it,” Bucky offers quietly. “I had sisters too and they hated it when I got involved with their relationships.”

“She deserves the best. And I really hope that you can be the one to give it to her. I saw how she looked at you. I haven’t seen her look like that since high school.” There’s a pensive look in his eyes, his hands clasped together in front of him. “I didn’t realize how much I missed seeing that look.”

“I like her too,” Bucky tries to assure him. “I don’t want to hurt her.” He hesitates, then adds, “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Except maybe Walker.”

Sam laughs. “You and me both.”

“I’ll toast to that,” Tony says cheerfully, coming back into the living room. “Sarah says it’s dinner time.”

Dinner is a loud affair, full of the boys talking about what they’ve been up to with their friends, Sam and Sarah bickering about repairs that need to happen on the boat, Tony and Bucky comparing their prosthetics (Tony’s arm is Stark Tech and he’s curious about how it compares to Bucky’s Wakandan one), and Sam, Tony, and Bucky discussing what’s going to happen with Walker now that the shield’s been taken away from him.

“I don’t think this is over,” Tony says, and Bucky agrees with him, remembering how much more determined Steve had gotten every time an opportunity had been taken away from him, but Sam is less sure.

“He’s grieving. I don’t think he’s in any state to be trying to take the shield back,” Sam argues.

“Grieving men can be unpredictable. You said he didn’t catch Karli, that’s got to be weighing on him,” Tony replies. He eyes the shield in its leather case, leaning up against the wall. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt because he decides the shield is still his. Him with that serum, it concerns me. You don’t have that kind of advantage.”

“I don’t want that kind of advantage,” Sam says, surprising Bucky. He’d known Sam is leery of the serum, not nearly as bad as Zemo but still uncomfortable with it. Tony doesn’t seem surprised though, just nods understandably.

“I know,” he agrees. “But I still worry.”

Bucky interjects, “Hopefully the suit the Wakandans made will help even the playing field some.”

Tony blinks.

“You got a new suit?” Sarah asks.

“And I didn’t make it?” Tony asks.

“I haven’t seen it yet,” Sam says, “but yes. Bucky asked for a favor after Walker destroyed the old one.”

“Hmph,” Tony says grumpily, softening only when Sam leans over to kiss his cheek. “Well, I guess I can’t blame you. Shuri’s tech is incredible. The things that girl can do with vibranium… blows that shield out of the water.”

“Is she still refusing to let you take a look at T’Challa’s suit?”

“Yes.”

“They’re very protective of it,” Bucky says.

“And I don’t blame them,” Tony says quickly. “It would just be nice.” He glances at Sam pleadingly, who laughs.

“I’m not gonna let you take a look at it either.”

Tony grumbles wordlessly, but doesn’t complain any further, instead turning to Sarah to ask her about something with the boat. Bucky eagerly joins in, interested in hearing more about Sarah’s life. It’s so different from his, even before the war. He wants to learn everything he can, both about the boat and about her.

By the time dinner is over, he’s stuffed, something that rarely happens. The serum means he has a higher metabolism than the average person, which also means that he’s typically hungrier, and when he’d been with HYDRA, they hadn’t worried about making sure their Asset was well-fed. He offers to help the boys clear the dishes, hoping that will impress Sarah. She smiles at him, but heads out to the porch. The sun is setting over the bayou, and Bucky can just barely make her out through the glare from the sun.

He watches her a little wistfully until Tony comes up beside him and passes him two glasses of sweet tea. “What’s this for?” he asks.

Tony jerks his head toward the door. “She likes to watch the fireflies.”

Sam passes him with an armful of plates on his way to the dishwasher. “Better make sure you grab some bug spray. The mosquitoes are vicious at this time of day.”

“I heal fast,” he says confusedly.

“But it’ll show you’re thinking of her,” Sam says as Tony grabs a can from under the sink and slaps it into Bucky’s empty hand. “Go on, we’ve got this.”

“You’re sure?”

Sam and Tony share a wordless glance. Bucky can’t quite tell what they’re thinking. “Yeah,” Sam says after a moment. “Really, man, get out there.”

So Bucky gets.

Sarah glances up at him when he steps out onto the porch, smiles, and then moves aside on the swing for him to join her. “Let me guess, Tony told you to come out,” she says dryly.

“How’d you know?”

“He likes to think of himself as a matchmaker.”

Bucky hesitates in passing her one of the glasses. “Is that a problem?”

She takes the glass out of his hand, deliberately brushing her fingers against his. “Only if you think it is.”

In answer, Bucky hands her the bug spray too. Her smile broadens.

“Thanks,” she says. “You ever watched fireflies before?”

He shakes his head. “We didn’t have them in New York.”

“That’s a shame. They’re one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

They’re silent for a moment, both sipping from their glasses. Then Sarah says, “You can put your arm around me, you know.”

Bucky glances at her quickly and then slowly puts his arm around her shoulders. She leans into him, warm and perfect and slotting just right beside him. It’s nice, he thinks, and he leans his head on top of hers. She makes a pleased sound and snuggles just a little bit closer. He lets out a long sigh, feeling the tension drain out of him as the first few fireflies twinkle in the gathering dusk.

[marvelsimp]

The New Kid: Friend or Foe

The New Kid Masterlist

Ch. 5

Genre: Fluff? Pairing: Peter & Lesbian!reader, Avengers & Reader, (eventual Wanda x Reader it’s a slow burn) Warnings: violence(training), blood, stabbed, strong language Description: Y/n is getting used to living in the tower and makes an unlikely friend Reader’s Powers: Healer, telepath, and empath. Word Count: 2278

“You can’t pull your punches, Y/n/n.  In a real fight, you’re gonna have to fight for your life.”

“You know my whole power set is pacifist.”

“That’s why I have to train you,” said the slightly annoyed red-haired woman. “Now get your head in the game and let’s go again.”

You scoffed; you were frustrated that you had to do this.  That you had to learn how to hurt people.  You took a moment to stretch and you both went back into your fighting stances to start again.

You went to punch her face, but she dodged, she then raised her leg and tried to kick but you caught her foot.  She quickly got her foot free before you could do anything with it.  This went on for a while, you both got some good punches and kicks.  You did land on your ass a few times, but you got up each time and went back to it.

“Time out”

Thank god.

Steve walked in. Oh god no. You knew what was coming, you were gonna have to fight Steve.  You very dramatically fell on the floor and spread out. “Come on, Nat. This is creeping up on child abuse,” you laugh.

You earned a chuckle out of both of them.  Steve stood above you and offered you his hand to which you accepted. Nat went onto showing you some simple moves to help you fight someone bigger than you after about an hour you finally got to go and get a shower and really start your day.

The last week and a half passed by quickly.  Peter stayed at the tower for the first few nights but went back home once school started.  But he would come after patrol and he still video called during homework, like usual.  

Most of your time was spent in one of the labs.  You have been helping Tony with one of his suits as a way for him to familiarize you with the machines and programs.  Bruce did less hands-on work he worked on calculations for his own projects and did some work for SHEILD.  You went down to the Med Lab a few times to give Dr. Cho some blood samples or some information about your powers.  She took a small sample of skin, fat, and muscle from your thigh, but it healed within a minute like nothing ever happened.  

You also spent some time in the gym, which you hated but the others made it a little more fun.  You were really only doing it to get ready for training with Nat.  When you first went in you had no clue what you were doing.  Sam, Bucky, and Steve were doing some training exercise when you entered but Sam quickly saw your very clueless face and walked over to help.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hi.”

“I’m assuming you have no clue what you’re doing?  You look as clueless as I would if I went up to the Tech Lab.”

“That obvious?”

He let out a chuckle.  Sam gave you some stretches to warm up and then showed you how to use some of the machines.  He gave you advice on how long to use each machine and told you that if you needed anything just yell.  The rest of your time in the gym you watched the three men do whatever they were doing.  Sam and Bucky’s bickering was very entertaining and so was Steve yelling at them to focus. You were there for around an hour every day until Nat started to train you.  You very quickly learned that you grew muscle faster than the average person and you weren’t sore for very long.  

When you weren’t in the lab or the gym you were probably in your room playing a game or you were talking to Wanda while she was making a meal. “So, are you the assigned cook?” you joked.  You’d only ever seen Wanda prepare meals since you got here.

Wanda just shook her head, “Not really.  I just enjoy it, so I usually am the one to cook.  But Bruce sometimes cooks and so do Steve and Bucky. When I first joined I helped Steve add a bit of flavor to his meals.  Thank god I didn’t live in the 40s.” She laughed a little, you love her laugh and smile, they seem to make the room a little brighter.

You weren’t a cook yourself so you didn’t help too much, but you would talk to her and get her something if she needed it but usually, she’d just use her powers.  

That’s really the only time that you see Wanda, most of her day is spent training.  She’s Strange’s apprentice.  You still haven’t met him, for someone who can make portals you’d think he’d pop in at some point.  You asked Wanda about seeing him, but she told you that you need to be invited or it needs to be something important.  She warned against pissing him off because it takes a while to get back on his good side.  But she told you she’d mention it to him.

You got into a rhythm of training, breakfast, tech lab, lunch, med lab, tech lab, supper, and Video games, the library, or more time in the tech lab.  It was rarely thrown off.  Every few days someone would go out for a mission or return from one.  Nat only missed two training sessions, so Bucky stood in.  You enjoyed training with Nat, but Bucky made sure to put some fun into it.   At first, he seemed so cold but after some warming up, he really was just a big Teddy Bear.  He can still be an ass though.

Your days stayed on this loop for another week until Thor returned with Loki.  No one fully trusted Loki so Stark ended up putting a tracker on him that Wanda enchanted so that Loki couldn’t remove or deactivate it… he was not impressed.  Well, he was, just not pleased.

“You must be Lady Y/n,” Loki smirked.

Thor whacked the back of Loki’s head. “Be good,” he whispered.

Loki just let out a mischievous laugh, “Don’t worry brother.”  Loki turned back to you, “So you’re the one who discovered me? I wouldn’t expect a mere mortal would be able to find me out... not even THE Scarlet Witch did.”

“You’re impressed?” you scoffed. “Or maybe a little jealous.” You knew that he’s the god of mischief and you aren’t gonna deal with any of his shit, you’ve got enough going on.

“No,” he defended, “Just interested.”

“I’m a telepath and empath,” you explained, “and a healer.”

“Oh! So, you cheated!”

“What do you mean cheat? Your thoughts were so loud you were giving me a headache!”

“I will get my revenge.”

He’s going to so annoying, isn’t he?

Loki was surprisingly quiet over the next week until you went to the tower’s library.  

The library itself is a whole floor, it has a copy of every book you could think of.  It even has a librarian who is almost constantly putting up new releases.  It’s a bookworm’s dream.  

You wanted to find a physics book or two and you weren’t against finding a new queer fantasy book.  You returned your books and asked Mx. Anderson where you could find what you were looking for and they quickly gave you directions and suggestions.

You found and picked out a few physics books and then made your way to the young adult section. The queer books have a rainbow sticker on the spine.  You picked out a few then headed to leave, you walked into the “classics” section and there was Loki on a couch reading with a pile of books next to him.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Hello,” said the Asgardian who didn’t even look up from his book.

You bent down a little to sew the cover of the surprisingly thin book. “Oh, you’re reading Shakespeare!” He was reading Hamlet.  “My favorite is Romeo and Juliet. Have you read it yet?” He finally looked up from his book.  “No,” he seemed a little confused, “But I did read a few others of his work and I think that is in my stack.” He turned to find it. “It has such odd language compared to the rest of you.”

“They were written like four hundred years ago,” you explained, sitting next to him.

“Ah, language does change quite quickly.”

You nodded in agreement.

“What are you reading?” he said pointing at your stack of books.

“Oh, uh um. These big books are physics books, and these smaller ones are fantasy romance.”

“Hmm, you don’t seem to be one who reads romance.”

“Well, I’m really more into it for the fantasy elements but I do enjoy a good romance.”

He gave you a smirk,” Besides Romeo and Juliet and any of Shakespeare’s works. Do you have any recommendations for me?”

You went on to recommend some classics and some more recent books.  He listened to every word and asked a few questions.  You didn’t stay long; you were tired and just wanted to dive into one of your books.  You would usually be in the lab at this time, but it was nice to have a few hours to yourself before dinner.  

“Knock, knock,” said a voice at your door.

“Hm?” you looked up. “Peter!” you set down your book and ran to him for a hug.  It had been a while since Peter had come to the tower.  He hadn’t even been introduced to Loki, formally that is.  ‘How’s my favorite bug!”

Peter let out a laugh, “Good! You’re acting like we don’t talk every day.”

“Video calls and in-person are completely different things! Anyways what are you doing here?”

“It’s Thursday aka movie night.”

“Oh, yeah!”

You and Peter walked out of your room and went to the common space to eat dinner.

“Lady Y/n,” said a booming voice.

“Yes, Thor!”

“Would you and the Man of Spiders like to sit next to me and my brother?”

“Yes, we’d love that,” you laughed.

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve never had ice cream!” you practically yelled at Loki.

Everyone was surprised with how comfortable you and the trickster were with each other, especially Peter.  

“What’s with you and him?” Peter whispered.

“We bonded over books,” you whispered back. “Your girlfriend would like him.”

Peter smiled, he’s pleased that you’re getting along with everyone and most of all that you’re happy.  

The rest of the night was nice, it was just like the last two movie nights.  Dinner, talking, movie, and then Peter had to leave to finish his homework or go on patrol.  

The next week was just like you had gotten there but Loki had decided that it was a perfect time to really embrace his title.  He started to pull little pranks, nothing too bad or really anything that went beyond a little annoyance.  Or at least he didn’t until today.  

It was Saturday so you slept in because you thankfully did not have to go to training.  You were about to leave when you noticed a box on your desk.  It was about the size of a backpack.  So, you decided to open it and when you looked inside there was a black cat with emerald eyes.  Who got you a cat? You like cats and like…thanks?  But still, who would get you a cat out of nowhere? You picked up the cat and as soon as you did it started to transform, and you felt a sharp pain in your side.  The cat continued to transform into of course… Loki.  The raven hair man quickly sprinted out of your room to the common area.

You looked down and there was a fucking kitchen knife in your side.

“You bitch! I like this shirt!” you yelled while running out of your room.

When you entered the common room, Loki was nowhere to be seen.  But Nat, Bucky, and Steve were there.  “Where did he go?”

“Who?” Nat turned around and saw the knife in your side.  Her eyes widened, then she looked fucking pissed.  “What the fuck! Are you okay?”  The men's emotions followed the same track.

“Oh yeah,” you said nonchalantly.  You pulled the bloody knife out of your side.  Some blood soaked into your shirt’s fabric, but you weren’t worried.  But you do like this shirt… that bitch is gonna pay.

“Do you want me to kill him?” said the brunette man bluntly.

“Don’t worry, I got this.” You rushed into the elevator and told Friday to take you to Loki.

The elevator lowered to the Library. Of course.

“Sorry, Mx. Anderson!” you yelled while running by their desk. “There will be yelling and possibly blood shed!”  You already know where he is.  He’s in the classics.  

There he was sitting on the couch, nonchalantly reading the Iliad.

“You’re a fucking bitch you know?  I really like this shirt!” you waved the knife in your hand around.

“Oh please.  You’re a healer, you’ll be fine.”

You crossed your arms, “LOKI. My fucking shirt.”

He raised his arms in defense. “It just a blood and a slight rip.”

You walked up to Loki and took off your shirt, thankfully you were wearing an undershirt that you didn’t care about.  You handed the shirt to him.  “Fix it then.”

He accepted the shirt and scoffed. “Fine.” He waved his hand over the shirt and it was now good as new.

“See, that was easy.” You grabbed the shirt and started to walk away.  “And don’t stab me again! I think two assassins would very happily kill you!”

NEXT CHAPTER 

Ice Cream or Blood