#as for why steve wouldn’t say anything during

[mustlovesteve]

I’ve read some excellent one-shots but… Are there any longer Steddie fics where Steve doesn’t tell Eddie about the Russian torture trauma and agrees to be tied up but gets triggered by that?

[lovebugism]

hi! can i request shy/innocent reader who blushes at any sex talk, but one day she shows up covered in hickies that she didn’t notice and eddie, robin and the gang are grilling her trying to find out who shes with and steve’s just standing in the corner like🧍‍♂️

ty for requesting :D — the gang finds a hickey on you during movie night (shy!fem!r, fluff, 1.3k)

Slasher films, Eddie tells you, are just excuses to make the goriest, raunchiest movies known to man. But that’s why they’re so good! he exclaims like a giddy teenage boy before sliding the bulky VHS into the tape player. 

Your stomach’s been in knots about it since. You’re made of something more delicate than that — not particularly built for gruesome horror — but you swallow down your worrying anyway. 

Robin’s smacking on gummy worms at your feet, Eddie hasn’t stopped smiling since he sat down beside you, and Steve’s got one toned arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder. The combination of familiarity takes your mind off the whole thing when you threaten to scare yourself about it.

A half-hour in, and the scariest thing you’ve seen so far, is an overtly theatric sex scene. You only get a glimpse of the static nudity before a clammy, ringed hand splays itself over your eyes. It doesn’t save you from the high-pitched squealing and gruff moans, though, so you’re not entirely sure it’s doing much.

“What are you doing?” you ask Eddie through quiet giggles.

“This shit’s gross,” he answers, muffled through the candy in his cheek. “You don’t need to be watchin’ stuff like this.”

Your brows furrow beneath his palm. “I’m not a child, Eds.”

“Yeah, but you’re too pure! I wouldn’t feel right if I just let you watch it!”

Steve returns from the kitchen then, with a bowl of refilled popcorn in hand. He scoops a handful into his mouth and scolds through the mouthful. “Eddie. Leave her alone.”

The pale hand slips from your face when the scene ends — the climax sufficiently interrupted by a serial killing, chainsaw weilding psycho. The wild-haired boy scoffs. “Jeez! Sorry for trying to take care of your girlfriend, Harrington!”

“I do that on my own. I don’t need your help, freak,” Steve retorts, unthinking, before plopping down beside you and shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

All three of you glance at him with unwavering stares. He blinks back at you for a moment until the realization hits him. Rolling his chocolate eyes, he grouses, “Not like that, you pervs.”

Eddie grins. “Oh, so it’s not like that, then?” he wonders in a teasing lilt. 

“Well,” Steve shrugs, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “I mean, obviously it is, but—”

“Steve…” you waver in an inaudible whine, shrinking back into the couch, hoping it’ll swallow you whole. 

The boy seems confused by your sudden sheepishness. He’s never been shy about anything in his life. “I’m just saying!” he chuckles. “I’m your boyfriend. I take care of you. That’s, like, my whole job… One that I do very well, might I add.”

Robin grumbles while Steve and Eddie laugh like a couple of teenage boys. She rises from her comfy spot on the carpet and reaches for your hand. She pulls you into the kitchen behind her and calls to them over her shoulder. “You guys are such freaks, you know that?”

——————

Tired and slightly tipsy, you stand with Steve on his back porch. A cigarette hangs loosely from his plush lips. His chiseled jaw tightens every time he takes a drag. The sight of him is impossible to look away from.

“You don’t think I take care of you?” he blurts before blowing smoke from his mouth. The wisps disappear beneath the starry velvet sky.

“Huh?”

“Earlier. When Eddie was making that stupid joke,” the boy explains, snuffing the cig out in the ashtray on the railing. He glances at you with sparkling honey eyes, half beneath his lashes, before turning away again. Almost shy. “I said it was my job to take care of you or whatever, and you just… Kinda grumbled about it. Like you don’t think I do or something.”

Your chest stings.

“Of course you do!” you answer sheepishly. “It’s just… hard for me to talk about, I guess. In front of Eddie and Robin and everything…”

“Oh,” he hums, nodding with his pink lips softly pouted. When the realization passes, he bites back a bashful beam. “So… you do think I take care of you, then?”

You roll your eyes, still impossibly shy. You know that he knows that answer now — he just wants to hear you say it. “Obviously…” you murmur with a quiet smile you try hard to keep hidden.

“Good,” he says to himself, nodding like he’s proud. “That’s good…”

You’re not sure how, but you end up squished between his body and the deck railing in record time. Steve kisses the breath from your lungs with lips tasting of nicotine, cola, and sour candy. His golden hands dig into your hips while his mouth trails to your jaw. 

You twist your hands in the strands of his silky chestnut hair as his plush lips lock with your thrumming pulse. A sigh spills from your mouth at the tingling feeling — warm and wet, then stinging for a moment. Steve runs his tongue over the bruise he left there. 

“Don’t leave a mark,” you scold in a slurred whine.

His chuckle fans across your neck before he parts from you. The lovebite is hardly noticeable now, just beginning to blossom beneath your jaw. “I think it might be a little too late for that, babe,” he teases with lidded eyes.

The backdoor slides open before Steve can kiss you again. Eddie stumbles out with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Robin nearly runs into the back of him when the boy stops suddenly in his tracks. His chocolate eyes flit between the two of you, now separated and trying to play it cool.

“…Are we interrupting something?” he murmurs through the stick in his mouth.

Steve shrugs and puts his hands on his hips, so not cool. “What? No. What are you— What are you even doing out here?”

The lighter clicks. “…Smoking?”

He glances at Robin, then. Her ocean eyes widen as she shrugs. “I just didn’t wanna be left out,” she murmurs in an answer to his silent question.

“Fair enough.”

Eddie squeezes between you and Steve, clumsy and unknowing. He glances at you innocently once, then again with suspicious, squinted eyes. “Is that a bruise?” he wonders before turning away to exhale the smoke from his lungs.

Your chest wrenches. “Huh?” you hum with pinched brows.

“You have a bruise on your neck,” he tells you, pointing a ringed finger to the blooming mark Steve left some minutes ago now. “What happened?”

He says it like he’s concerned. Like he’s worried something had happened to you. The possibility of it being a hickey doesn’t even cross his mind — ‘cause you’re just too pure for that. 

You shrug and start to stammer, somehow less cool than the overtly uncasual boy on Eddie’s other side. “I don’t know. It’s probably just... The lighting or something.”

His fluffy brows pinch together as his eyes dart over your face. You’re visibly flustered, lips softly swollen and shining with spit. He looks at Steve next and finds the boy looking much of the same. Only then does he realize what he’s interrupted.

“Eugh!” he groans in disgust, features screwed-up and puppylike.

Steve fights back a laugh. “What?!”

“You guys are a bunch of dirtbags!” Eddie shouts.

“It’s just a hickey, Eds,” the brunette boy says, chuckling before he can help it. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

“Absolutely harlot behavior. Both of you,” he chides, shaking his head until his wild curls sway around his jaw. While the rest of you laugh, he grumbles. “I don’t even feel like smoking now. You guys just ruined this cig for me.”

The three of you blink at him when he takes another drag. It takes him a moment too long to register the stares. When he does, he spreads his palms in defense and mumbles through the stick. “Well, I’m not gonna waste it!”

[intoxicated-chan]

Only You, Darling

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel begins to worry about his unborn child, considering his spider DNA and history of losing people, he worries if things are only meant for the worst.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Dark Red” by Steve Lacy. When I tell you about the grip Miguel has on me! I love this man.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 982

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, pregnancy, light angst, established relationship, mentions of cheating, mentions of intercourse, swearing, little paranoia, very fluffy…

You stared at the positive test. You remained still before looking back at the other five positive tests. Your breathing became ragged as you knew Miguel would be home in a few hours.

You still had some time left, hide the evidence and find a way to explain it to Miguel. He thought that it was almost impossible to get you pregnant, which is why you hoped it wouldn’t make him think of the worst. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.

You begin cleaning up the torn boxes and used tests, throwing them in the small garbage bin without a second thought. You shouldn’t be worried about this now, you should be worried if Miguel was going to make it home on time or late, again.

But all the silence scared you to death as there was no way to calm you. Nothing would stop you from pacing around the living room. What felt like minutes were hours, and when your head snapped in the direction of a thud coming from your shared room. You cursed to yourself, knowing only one person to take the window instead of the front door.

“(Y/n)!” You heard him call out.

You choke on your words for a few seconds before finally being able to speak, “...I’m in the living room!”

You could practically hear him let out a sigh of relief as you heard his footsteps from your room and to the living room, seeing him still in his costume, “I thought you went out for a run again.”

“Well, I do know how much you hate them.”

“Because you take them during the night, I’ve told you how dangerous it is.” He comes to you, placing a quick kiss on your lips before pulling back, “I’m going to get washed up.” He walks to the bathroom but stops and looks over his shoulder, “Care to join me?”

“Well I-”

“That’s fine.” Miguel tells you, “But I could use someone to wash my back.”

“Miguel-”

And he sped to the bathroom, tired but… Shit! You never took out the trash!

“Miguel!” You call out again but no answer. You were too late, he’s already in the bathroom. You still had time, all you needed to was not freeze in place and open the damn door! But you can’t. You didn’t have the right to keep this information from Miguel, he deserves to know.

While you left him in the bathroom, you sat on your shared bed, waiting for him…

It’s been a half-hour. No sound of the shower turning on or anything from the bathroom. But your heart drops, hearing the door open and Miguel comes to the room, test in hand as his eyes tell his whole expression.

“I-”

“I know you didn’t cheat on me.” He whispers, setting the test on the dresser, “But how long have you known for?”

“Just this morning, a few hours after you left for work.” You answer.

“Just this morning?”

“Just this morning.” You repeat, looking into his eyes.

Miguel takes a deep breath, “Okay, okay.” But then he grabs a duffle bag from your closet and sets it on the bed, he pulls open your drawer and starts filing the bag up, “You can’t stay here.” He answers before you say anything.

“Listen to me, Miguel.”

“It’s not safe for you here.”

“Miguel-”

“I’m a danger and you know it.”

“Miguel!” You grab his wrist, “Stop. You know damn well I trust you with my life. You may think that’s the worst thing I ever said but I mean it. I know you have the strength to protect me, I love you Miguel and I promised to stand by you no matter what happens. So please, don’t push me away.”

“It’s not that I’m a danger to you, I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything, Miguel. And I’m hoping that you will let me give it all to you.” Feeling his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as if it was his last day.

The next couple of weeks were filled with doctor visits and holded up at home. It’s not like you didn’t stay home before, it’s just Miguel wanted to be sure you were in a safe location and that it would be your shared home.

“Did you take-?”

“My prenatals?” You finish his question, placing a kiss on his forehead, “Yes I did.” You kissed him again, “You don’t gotta worry about me, Miguel. With the doctor visits and the pills, I’m doing just fine.”

“I know.” Miguel sat on the couch while you sat on his lap, you felt his hands come to your stomach, “Does the doctor know when you would start showing?”

“In a couple more weeks but it’s different for everyone.” You tell him, feeling him nuzzle into your neck. You feel his hands rub your stomach, “Are you okay, Miguel?”

He hums, nodding into your shoulder, “It’s just… What if I’m a horrible father?”

“Don’t you dare say that!” You get up, turn your body to face him and sit back down, “I know you’ll be a wonderful father, Miguel. No matter what anyone says. And I know that this child will love you.”

He looks at you and slowly, a smile forms, “This is what I’m talking about.” He lays his head on your chest.

“What do you mean?” You ask. Then you look at his ears, the tip of them being red, “Miguel?”

“I think we should have more kids.”

Your hands come to his hair, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

He suddenly grabs your shoulders tightly and he snaps his head up, “Seriously?!”

You burst out laughing, “Of course!” You speak in between laughter, “I want nothing more than to start a family with you.” You calm down.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You’ll always have me.”

© 2033 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[lihhelsing]

Carry me home

cw: anxiety attacks, angst | 1.7k | Steddie

Eddie has no idea what he's doing here. If he had a little more self-respect he would be as far away from here as possible. 

But Eddie knows his feelings for himself are questionable, at best. So here he is, against every logical thought.

He spent most of the night wandering around, trying to pretend he was invisible and that no one could see him. In the end, most people were already used to ignoring him, so it wasn't that hard. 

Except for him. 

Eddie's not ashamed to say he had dipped behind the kitchen counter to avoid being seen by him. 

His ex-boyfriend probably wouldn't be happy to see Eddie walking around his party. 

In fact, Eddie could already hear the kind of nasty thing he would shout to him if he were to catch him there.

It was past three in the morning, and Eddie still had no clue why he was there. Maybe he was waiting to get caught. 

The party had died down quite a bit from how it was when he arrived at midnight and Eddie knew it was time for him to leave. He just really, really needs to pee.

He tried the downstairs bathroom and found it locked. There were sounds coming from inside that Eddie would much rather not think about, so he moved on.

Tried to convince himself he could make it back home and pee there, but even as he considered it, he knew he wouldn’t make it.

So he climbed the stairs because he knew it was off-limits during parties – painfully remembering the many times he and Steve would sneak out to his bedroom to make out or just sleep.

The corridor upstairs was dark and mostly quiet, except for the party sounds. Eddie went straight to the second door on the left. The bathroom. 

Eddie tried to be as quiet as he possibly could walking in and closing the door behind him, still in the dark and too afraid to turn on the lights in case that gave him away. 

Steve was probably downstairs, doing keg stands or playing beer pong or some dumb shit like that. 

Eddie used to love to watch him play, but he brushed it aside, not wanting to get sucked in by the rabbit hole of memories. 

He walked using his muscle memory as his eyes got used to the dark. He could make out the toilet and reached out to lift the lid when he heard it. 

It was a muffled, low cry. Sounded like an injured animal and Eddie thought he might be going crazy and hearing things because Steve's parents wouldn't allow him to get a dog, no matter how much he wanted one.

He held his breath to try and figure out where the cry was coming from and was terrified when he realized it was coming from his right side. The bathtub. 

Eddie's mind started to race with a million possibilities, each one nastier than the other. He knew Harrington's parties tend to be crazy and this could literally be anything but he was so freaked out he had even forgotten about how badly he needed to pee. 

Eddie pulled the curtains slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible so as to not alert whoever – or whatever – he was going to find there.

And out of all the scenarios... He just didn't expect to see Steve. Curled in a ball, hugging his knees close to his chest and crying softly. 

Eddie felt his heart plummeting inside his chest. He would very much like to say that was the first time he ever saw Steve like that, but it wasn't. 

And some of those times he was the one to blame. 

For a second, Eddie just stood there, watching Steve cry.  He was so out of it that he didn't even notice Eddie was there and that was scary. 

Meant that he was probably very out of it. 

Eddie should leave.

That was his plan, wasn't it? And there was no way Steve would like his ex-boyfriend to see him looking like that. 

But at the same time... How could he leave him? 

Even before his mind was made, Eddie's legs were moving, stepping inside the tub so he could crouch in it.

He knew better than to touch Steve, so he gently called his name. One, two, three times. 

When it was clear that wouldn't do, he reached out his hand and touched Steve's knee softly. Steve reacted instantly, jerking away, scared. 

Eddie raised his hands and kept his voice low whispering over and over that it was ok, he was ok. "It's just me. It's just Eddie."

Steve's eyes were glassy when he found Eddie's. His face was red as if he had been crying for hours and Eddie worried this might be something he had no idea how to handle.

It was too late to back out now. 

"Eddie?" Steve said. His voice was rough and weird and he coughed a few times before managing to get the words out. 

Eddie nodded. "Yeah. It's me. Hi."

"Am I dreaming?" Steve asked and Eddie let out a dark chuckle. 

"Wouldn't that be more of a nightmare?"

Even through the tears, Eddie could see Steve rolling his eyes. Or at least he thought that was what he wanted to do. 

"Can I touch you?" Eddie asked, and Steve nodded faster than he was expecting. And then Eddie's hand was back on his knee. 

"You're really here?" Steve asked.

"I'm really here," Eddie assured him, squeezing his knee softly. "What happened? Why are you..."

Alone. Hiding. Crying. Looking like you're having a panic attack. 

Steve didn't answer. Instead, he started to move, stretching his legs towards Eddie.

With a loud pop, he found a place for them right under Eddie and didn't seem too worried about it. 

"Just anxious, I guess," Steve said as if it was nothing. He moved his hand so now his fingers were going up and down Eddie's arm, tracing his tattoos.

Eddie felt a shiver running down his spine. He and Steve hadn't touched each other in months. Ever since he walked away. 

Steve was right, this felt like a fever dream.

"Why? Something happened?"

He could see the moment Steve hesitated. Could see the words getting caught in his throat. Instead of answering, he shrugged and looked away. 

"Steve..." Eddie said and he was ready to be yelled at. He was ready for Steve to tell him he had no right to ask him that.

"Felt wrong," Steve answered, eventually. His fingers stopped moving and he curled them around Eddie's wrist. He could feel Eddie's heartbeat going crazy, no doubt. 

"What did, sweetheart?" Eddie knew he was playing with fire. Knew he shouldn't say things like that because

Steve wasn't his anymore. But old habits die hard. 

"All of it? The smell and the touch... It's not the same. And then..."

Eddie wanted to ask what he meant, but he didn't want to interrupt Steve so he let him keep going. 

"Then she fell asleep."

Eddie felt the words piercing through him. Painful and hot. Steve had been with someone else. A girl, it seemed. 

He tried to take his hand away but Steve held tightly to it. 

"It felt wrong, Eddie. So fucking wrong. I told her she was supposed to lie on the right side of the bed and she didn’t.”

Steve's tears were back, rolling down his face freely as he talked.

Eddie had no idea what to say. Maybe he should leave but his legs didn't seem to be working and he didn't have it in him to break free from Steve's touch. Not with how much he had missed it. 

Fuck.

"I told her! I just left for a minute and when I got back she was lying there, on the left side. On your side."

Eddie felt again. Pain. Dread. Hurt. This was too much but Steve was spiraling and he couldn't leave him. He also didn't want to leave him. 

"Shh, it's ok,” Eddie said under his breath. 

He was feeling brave, so he reached out his free hand and pushed Steve's damp hair from his face. He scratched at his scalp the way he knew Steve liked it and the reward was more than he could've hoped for. 

Steve mewled, leaning his head on Eddie's hand as if he had been craving the touch. 

"It's ok, sweetheart. It's an honest mistake," Eddie said even if he had no idea what he was talking about. There was a girl in Steve's bed and he was upset because she was lying on Eddie’s side.

What the fuck.

"Not ok," Steve grumbled back and Eddie had to bite back a laugh. 

He used his thumb to catch a tear that was rolling down his cheek and cupped his face. Steve was so gorgeous, even with his eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying. 

"Not ok, but we'll fix it, ok?"

Steve nodded. His eyes were focused on Eddie and for the first time it looked like he was actually seeing what was happening. Eddie was scared this meant he was going to kick him out. 

But he didn't. 

"Can you take me home?" Steve asked, under his breath. His voice was so small

Eddie barely made out the words. 

He wanted to point out to Steve that he was home, already. But deep down he knew what he was asking. And he knew he shouldn't. Knew this was too much and he wasn't going to recover from it. 

But still. He couldn't bear to see Steve like that.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I'll take you home, c'mon. My car is right outside."

Steve smiled softly as he let Eddie pull him up and out of the bathtub. As soon as they were walking, Steve plastered himself to Eddie's side, holding on tightly. 

Eddie let him.

He made a mental note to call Robin when he had a chance, just to let her know he got Steve. 

He wondered if she was going to be surprised. Probably not.

Steve buried his face on Eddie's neck and breathed him in. He placed a soft kiss there and Eddie sighed in response, knowing damn well he was fucked.

[navybrat817]

Where Did the Time Go?

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You decide not to drink during game night, which leads to an interesting conversation with Bucky. Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Light angst, tension, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We'll Always be Friends A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure what exactly happened between dinner and now, but you decided that the fun game night wouldn’t include drinking. You hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since your meal. Even then, you were pretty sure you didn’t have much. Sharon brought out a bottle of wine before everyone finished eating and you took a sip of your glass out of obligation. If she noticed you didn’t finish your glass, she didn’t say anything, which you appreciated.

But you should’ve known that Bucky would catch on.

“Not drinking tonight, huh?” He asked as he took a seat beside you on the couch. Steve and Sam set up a game table and were already a couple of drinks in. So were Sharon and Natasha. You weren’t worried about them though. They could hold their liquor.

But can I hold my tongue if I drink? Or am I using that as an excuse?

“Not tonight,” you replied, holding up your cup of water. “Sticking with water.”

“You’re acting like we need a designated driver when we’re not going anywhere,” he joked, throwing his arm around behind the cushion, the same way he had at the dinner table. “Afraid I’ll kick your ass in Mario Kart if you get a little tipsy?” He asked, grinning when you smiled. “We can have a tournament? Just the two of us?”

“Hey, one of us might need to go on a liquor or snack run. You never know,” you said, setting your water on the table before you sank into the couch. “And it isn’t exactly a tournament if only two people are playing, is it?”

“It can be. We make our own rules,” he smiled as he moved a little closer. “Remember the time we had a tournament? We went to that shady looking liquor store after Sam spilled the last bottle of rum. The guy behind the counter had a bunch of clown masks.”

You laughed a little. How could you forget? “Yes! We had to open the living room window so we could breathe. And the cashier was actually a sweet guy, but you glued yourself to my side before that because you were certain the guy had bad intentions,” you said. Bucky and his protective streak made you feel important.

Until you weren’t.

Bucky must’ve noticed the change in your demeanor since he stopped chuckling. “Seriously though. Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”

“I feel fine. I just don’t need to drink tonight,” you said, touched that he showed concern for you before a weird expression crossed his face. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“No. You’re, um,” he tapped a finger on his knee as he tried to find the words. “There isn’t a specific reason you aren’t, is there? You're not…” he trailed off, but his eyes drifted long enough to your torso to fill in the blank.

You never understood the expression about eyes widening to the size of saucers until you experienced it just then. “Are you asking if I’m pregnant?” You whispered, careful not to speak any louder than that. The last thing you needed was the group questioning why Bucky asked such a question. “If so, the answer is NO.”

The sigh of relief Bucky let out, you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Sorry. I'm sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation for why you aren’t drinking. I just. I don't know why my mind went there.”

You couldn’t exactly tell him you're worried about getting plastered and revealing how you felt about him. Drunk confessions worked for some, but you didn’t think the odds were in your favor. “I still can’t believe you asked that,” you half teased, pointing at your stomach. “Not to mention, I haven’t been laid in ages. So, unless it happens via immaculate conception, that’s never going to be the case.”

The odd expression was back on Bucky’s face. What was his deal? “When was the last time you went on a date?” He asked with more interest than you expected.

“Months ago. Minimum,” you said, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to recall the exact day. “His name was Nick. We went on a few dates and he was nice enough, but he ended up getting serious with someone else. Haven’t gone on another date since.”

The clench in Bucky’s jaw almost made you smile. He had no reason to look so upset on your behalf. “I’m sorry. It’s his loss.”

“Don’t be. I’m kind of used to it,” you said with a nonchalant shrug.

“What the hell does that mean?” He asked, facing you on the couch and blocking the view of your friends at the table. “What exactly are you used to?”

Why does he sound upset? It's not like I’m not his girl.

“It means I’m used to guys not picking me,” you said honestly. As much as it hurt to think that way, saying it didn’t hurt as badly. “Think about it, Bucky. In all the time you’ve known me, when have guys ever flocked to me? When have you ever seen a guy take a chance on me when Natasha and Sharon were there? They haven’t and that’s just the way it is.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re perfect. And maybe people do see you, but you don’t see them,” he argued, quickly closing his mouth when he saw your expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“No, I think that’s exactly what you meant,” you said, sitting up to put some distance between the two of you as hurt filled his eyes. “I see just fine, thanks, but please enlighten me. Who saw me? Who did I overlook? I’d love an example.”

There was no reason to get so defensive, but did he understand how you felt? People gravitated toward Bucky and your friends. They always had. You, on the other hand, were on the outside of the house looking in. It was tiring to be the one knocking on the door.

“What about your old friend, TJ? You’re telling me he didn’t see you?” He asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. It wasn’t a tone you heard from him before. It didn't suit him.

“TJ?” You asked, confusion written all over your face that you couldn’t fake if you tried. “TJ Hammond? My old family friend? Um, no, he definitely doesn’t see me.”

Not even close.

“He stayed at your place after Steve’s party,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he avoided your gaze. “Bet he couldn’t wait to see you. Probably went over the second you got back from the trip.”

Wait, is he jealous? What the hell?

You laughed a little, unable to help yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he did stay at my place for a bit after Steve’s birthday bash a couple of years ago. He had an issue with his boyfriend.”

Bucky did a double take, which would’ve been humorous if not for the stricken look on his face. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. The guy he dated at the time was a HUGE asshole and they had a falling out. His parents refused to let him go back home, so he stayed with me. And I couldn’t kick him out. He needed a friend,” you said, your brows pinching when you recalled how TJ cried on your sofa. It was a heartbreaking sight. “He has a new boyfriend now who treats him well and he couldn’t be happier. And I couldn’t be happier for him.”

Bucky blinked a few times. “So, you two. You never…?”

“TJ and I? No. Never dated, hooked up, anything,” you smiled with a shake of your head. “We adore each other, but in a brother and sister kind of way. I mean, we’ve known each other since we were in diapers. Even if I did find him attractive, nothing ever would’ve happened. You, Steve, Sam, you guys are much more his type.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, his face a bit pale. You worried for a second that he was going to get sick. “I thought you two hooked up,” he said more to himself than to you.

Where the hell did he get that impression?

“No, we didn't and we never will,” you said again before something he said dawned on you. “Wait, how did you know he stayed at my place? He asked me not to tell anyone where he was and I respected his wishes.”

Going through the dates again in your head, it wasn’t long after TJ stayed with you that Bucky brought Dot around as his new girlfriend. You knew you lost your chance to admit your feelings because he had someone by his side. Someone who wasn’t you.

“Come with me,” Bucky said, taking your hand and pulling you up from the couch before you had a chance to argue. It was hard to keep up with his long strides and he didn’t look back when Steve called after the two of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked as he pulled you outside and slammed the door. You watched as he took a few breaths, like he was trying to steady himself. “Talk to me, please.”

“I wasted two years,” he whispered, tilting his head to look at the sky. “Two fucking years.”

What is he talking about?

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“I made a huge mistake and I regret it,” he said, squeezing your hand as he faced you. “And I can't go the rest of this week without telling you. I wasted enough time.”

“Tell me what? Bucky, what did you do?”

And can we come back from it?

That literary edging. I'm sorry! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[hornedqueenofhell]

Shared Interests Pt. 1

“...and that’s where we will be ending things for tonight!” Eddie says, clapping his hands together and leaning back in his chair while the children cry foul.

“We’ve only been going for three hours!”

“We didn’t even do anything except go shopping!”

“But what about the tip we just got to find Lolth’s lair?”

Eddie’s expression darkens and he smacks his hand on the table to shut everyone up, “We will continue with all of that next time but tonight Steve and I have plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Will asks, he’s the calmest of all of them and generally enjoys hearing about Eddie and Steve being happy in their relationship.

“Stevie is taking me to a baseball game.” Eddie replies and Mike and Dustin explode.

“You’re ditching Hellfire for a sports game?! What the fuck man?” Mike shouts, almost sweeping his things off the table with his arms flailing about so wildly.

“Language” Eddie says before getting a thousand yard stare briefly as he realizes the words that just came out of his mouth. Christ, Steve really was rubbing off on him… in more ways than one.

“So you can tell us to just go find a replacement instead of rescheduling but when you decide to take the night off we just have to deal?” Dustin bites out causing Eddie’s eyes to snap to him and then briefly dart over to Lucas.

Eddie had apologized profusely from his hospital bed, even before Steve had chewed him out for replacing Lucas with his sister. He knew Lucas still felt a bit wary around him when he got manic, which was understandable after everything he'd been through. They had been doing better though, Eddie would rather die than admit it but Lucas had good relationship advice. And he spoke jock so Eddie could ask him for things to say to impress Steve, usually it just made his boyfriend laugh but Eddie still counted it.

“Why a baseball game?” Lucas asks, Eddie turns to him and scrubs a hand through his hair.

“Because Steve likes the Cubs.” It had been the primary source of bonding between Steve and Wayne, both of them finally happy to have someone to talk about sports with.

“So?” Mike is looking at Eddie like he doesn’t recognize the older man anymore.

“Because couples generally like spending time together?” He’s not sure where the confusion here is.

Dustin scoffs, “Steve already goes to your shows and hangs out during d&d, how much more time do you two need to spend together?” Mike nods in agreement but Lucas has a small smile now and Eddie reaches out to squeeze his shoulder and ruffle his hair with a grin.

“Boys, what do those two things have in common that me seeing a baseball game with your babysitter doesn’t?” he asks as Lucas bats his hand away.

“Your things are actually cool?” Mike

“They’re in Hawkins?” Dustin

“They’re Eddie’s hobbies.” Lucas for the win! At Eddie’s confirming nod the other two turn to Lucas looking confused.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Lucas sighs at Mike and pats Will’s shoulder consolingly. His friend really needs a better guy to crush on. “And this is why El is done with your ass dude. You gotta share in your partner’s hobbies too man. Steve goes to Eddie’s shows even though he’s not a fan of metal because he likes Eddie. It wouldn’t be fair to Steve if Eddie wasn’t willing to do the same.”

“It definitely doesn’t make your partner feel good when you just dismiss their interests.” Eddie fidgets with his rings as his eyes drop to the table. He knew that he wasn’t used to relationships, Steve being his first boyfriend ever, and learning the hard way that compromise was a very necessary thing had been a difficult concept to wrap his head around at first. He’d complained about Steve trying to invite him to ‘normie’ events or playing his music until Steve, tired of feeling like Eddie didn’t actually care about him, told him that maybe they were better off seeing other people. 

Eddie had reacted poorly and it wasn’t until his bandmates called him out when he’d tried to complain to them about their fight that he’d figured it out. He still wasn’t a fan of baseball but seeing Steve light up as he’d explained to Eddie why everyone was cheering about a specific player or hit made sitting through the games more than worth it. And Steve wrapping Eddie up in his members only jacket in the parking lot before sneaking a little kiss hadn’t been too bad either.

So they would go see the occasional home game, season tickets being one of the ‘expensive presents definitely make up for the fact we’re shitty parents’ gifts Steve got for a Christmas present last year. Or sometimes when Eddie has a game or just isn’t feeling social Steve will take Wayne and Eddie gets the trailer to himself for several hours. He can take a nice long shower, practice voices for his campaigns, make himself a snack while naked in the kitchen. Or go to Steve’s and cook him something nice for dinner then head upstairs and open himself up on his boyfriend's bed before pulling out a book and waiting for Steve to get back and rail him through the mattress. 

"So what, you're going to sit at a baseball game and just pretend to be interested in it so you can score points with some washed up jock?"

"First off Wheeler, check the fucking attitude. I don't know what it is with you and your sister that you think you can just say the most awful things about Steve and face no repercussions but I will absolutely ban you if you don't start treating Steve with some basic human decency. Second off, I don't have to like baseball, it’s the same way with Steve not being super into my music. We are very different people so we sometimes struggle to find common ground, and when our interests don't line up we have to find ways to make it work. Because, as I'm still figuring out, that's kind of a big part of being in a healthy relationship."

Pt 2

[solarmorrigan]

Steve is always the first to fall asleep.

The first time Eddie had insisted Steve stay the night, he and Eddie had stayed up late watching a movie and Steve had looked like he was about to pass out. Eddie wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if Steve had fallen asleep at the wheel on his way home, so he’d told Steve to just stay. Then he’d gotten up to brush his teeth and had come back to find Steve already zonked out on the couch. From that very first time, Steve has always fallen asleep before Eddie.

When their movie nights run long, Steve starts nodding off against the back of the couch, and then later against Eddie’s shoulder. On nights when being alone just doesn’t feel like an option, when occupying the same bed just seems like the most practical solution, it’s always Steve whose eyes slip closed first, who starts up that whistling little snore that he vehemently denies when he’s awake. Later, Eddie finds out that Steve will fall asleep even faster with Eddie all wrapped up around him, arm tight around Steve’s waist.

Once, when they head out to the lake to smoke in the back of Eddie’s van, doors thrown open to let in the clear night, Steve falls asleep half on the mess of blankets Eddie had thrown down as cushioning, and half on top of Eddie. Eddie himself doesn’t really sleep that night; it isn’t safe for them to both fall asleep – not out here, not like this, but Steve looks so fucking exhausted that Eddie doesn’t really want to wake him. Steve drives them home in the morning, and Eddie catches a nap then.

The only exception, really, is on the nights when Eddie has nightmares, when Eddie is feeling jumpy, when Eddie can’t help but look at every fluttering shadow as a threat. Then, Steve will sit up against the pillows and pull Eddie back against him and promise to keep watch; and with Steve solid and steadfast at his back, Eddie can’t help but fall asleep.

At least, Eddie had assumed that was the only exception.

D&D runs long one night—the kids’ parents don’t seem to mind their staying out late as long as they know they’re all at Steve’s house, and Eddie will never let him live down his popularity with the suburban moms, considering how many parties he’d thrown during his high school years—and they agree that it would be easier to simply crash at Steve’s for the night than it would be to go dropping everyone off at home at goddamn midnight.

They pop a movie in and set up around the living room with blankets and pillows raided from closets and spare rooms. The boys are relegated to the floor while El and Max cohabitate in the easy chair. Erica stretches out on the couch, but since she’s short and the couch is enormous, it’s easy for Eddie and Steve to curl up together at the other end.

“You gonna make it to the end of the movie?” Eddie teases, even while draping Steve’s arm over his shoulder like it’s his favorite blanket.

From the floor, Dustin snorts. “Are you kidding? Steve never falls asleep first.”

“I think I’ve only seen him sleep once, but that might’ve been a trick of the light,” Will adds, and Lucas snickers.

Eddie turns to glance at Steve, because what the kids are saying is patently untrue, but Steve only raises his eyebrows at Eddie. “I think I’ll be fine,” he says, and turns back to the screen.

And, in fact, by the end of the movie, nearly everyone else has dropped off, but Steve is still perfectly alert. Even Eddie, who at some point ended up mostly horizontal, with his legs parallel to Erica’s and his torso in Steve’s lap, is starting to nod off. He wants to ask Steve if there’s anything wrong, ask why he hasn’t gone all sleepy and soft at Eddie’s side like he always does, but then Steve’s fingers work their way into Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s out like a light.

They’re woken in the morning by the sound of teenagers trying to be quiet in the kitchen, and it’s like nothing at all out of the ordinary has happened, but Eddie’s curiosity is piqued now, so he starts paying attention.

Any time the kids are with them for the night, any of the kids at any of their houses, Steve stays awake. He stays up while everyone else falls asleep around him, while even Eddie falls asleep, and Eddie realizes – he’s keeping watch. He’s looking out for threats while everyone else is vulnerable.

But he almost never seems to worry about staying awake when it’s just him and Eddie.

Eddie tries to puzzle it out. He spends half an hour or so potentially offended that Steve apparently cares what happens to the kids but not to Eddie, but he knows that isn’t it. Steve is always awake when Eddie needs him to be – and what’s more, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Steve sleep more soundly than when he’s curled up against Eddie, circled by his arms.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t care at all, it’s that he trusts Eddie. He trusts Eddie more than anyone.

This is a mind-blowing revelation, somehow. Eddie has no idea what he’s done to earn it, but he knows immediately that he’s going to do his damndest to keep it.

The next time they end up in sleepover formation, it’s in the Wheeler’s basement. They’re all crunched up on chairs and the old sofa, though the braver party members (or at least those more inured to the stains on the carpet) have decided to take their chances with the floor.

It’s been a bad week; one of the few nights Steve had decided to simply head home to sleep after a late shift instead of coming over to Eddie’s had been a nasty, blustery night, and the power in Loch Nora had flickered, and flickered, and then gone out entirely.

Steve, the idiot, had stuck it out the whole night, but Eddie doubts he’d slept. And he hasn’t slept right since, twitching at every noise and shifting restlessly against whatever his dreams were assaulting him with. For once, Eddie had actually been the safer option as carpool driver; Steve has looked ready to drop all night.

Now, Eddie looks up at him from his spot on the floor, where he’s been leaning against Steve’s chair, half asleep against his legs and resting his head on Steve’s knee. He can see Steve’s eyes start to droop closed, his breathing going slower, deeper, and then, almost as if shocked, Steve sits up again, blinking and shaking his head, searching the room for danger that isn’t there. It makes Eddie’s chest hurt.

Quietly, he stands up off the floor, patting Steve on the hip.

“Up,” Eddie orders, and, sleep-deprived and half on autopilot, Steve obeys.

He watches in confusion as Eddie pulls over a milk crate full of old magazines and then sits down in the chair Steve has just vacated. He scoots back as far as he can and spreads his legs to make room for Steve in front of him.

“Lean back,” Eddie says softly, once he’s tugged Steve down into the chair, then gestures at the crate. “Put your feet up.”

“Eddie...” Steve protests, barely more than a mumble as he practically melts into Eddie, hands coming up to cover the ones that are clasped over his waist.

“Shh. I’ve got them. I’ll keep watch.” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s temple, murmuring into his ear, “Get some rest.”

And, miraculously, Steve does.

Eddie doesn’t sleep a wink that night, and the position he’s resigned himself to is deeply uncomfortable, but for the grateful look Steve sends him in the morning, for the renewed light in his eyes, Eddie figures it’s worth it.

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”

You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.

That opportunity had long passed.

You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.

…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.

Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.

“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.

You’d shrugged.

“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.

Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.

“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else…  If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”

That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.

It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.

Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.

You didn’t know how to feel about that either.

On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.

What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.

Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…

…and there were many times you worried that would be you.

As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.

“Hello, Peter.”

The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.

“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”

“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”

She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.

Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.

Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.

It was your birthday?

You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.

The thought made you…sad.

This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.

Now…

Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”

You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.

“I shouldn’t be here…”

Realization hit Peter as he sighed.

“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”

“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.

“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”

Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.

“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”

You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.

“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.

You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.

Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.

You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.

Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

You blinked, frowning a bit.

“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”

You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.

“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”

You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.

You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.

“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”

You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.

It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.

When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.

“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”

He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”

He rested his chin on the back of your hand.

“Just like I am every time I look at you…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.

“You understand…?”

You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.

“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”

Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.

The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.

You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.

You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.

Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.

…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.

The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.

You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.

“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”

“Sit down, Peggy.”

Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.

When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.

“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”

You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.

“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”

“Steve-.”

“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”

You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.

“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”

Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.

“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”

More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.

“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”

“Steve,” Margaret murmured.

“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”

With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.

“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”

You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.

“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”

The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.

“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”

Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.

The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.

Nothing about any of this was good.

You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.

“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”

Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.

“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”

“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”

You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.

“I want my mom,” you cried.

The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.

“You don’t want to be mine…?” he slowly asked.

You pressed your lips together, looking away.

“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”

Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.

“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”

“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.

“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”

“Peter-.”

“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”

He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.

“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”

He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.

“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”

You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.

“…maybe it still can be…”

You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.

“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.

“Peter-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.

“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.

He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.

“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.

His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.

“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”

You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.

He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.

“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

[waywardcrow]

I’d do bad things with you.

Summary: The day after the wedding, Bucky and his new wife go to Stark's house to plan their next step because that's why they are married, right? Not because they love each other.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.

TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, implications of mafia kind of stuff but please remember all I know about this I learned from SoC and fics lol, allutions to death, mention of cheating and sex, lots of angst, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Yours to lose series.

All eyes on us <<<

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Bucky didn’t dare to say anything when his wife closed the door of the guest room, how could he? His dragă asked for one thing: help to protect her family.

That didn’t mean she owned him something, she was his wife but not his woman, not anymore.

If only he wasn’t so impulsive, if he weren’t so blind to recognize what he had in front on him, they wouldn’t be in this situation, their wedding wouldn’t be an arrangement, he would had ask her to marry him instead of trapping her.

Still, he had hopes, he would never give up in getting her back, and when Bucky finally did it, he would make up for the lost time.

Alone in her room, Bells felt the Barnes’ family ring heavy in her hand, not only for the rose diamond, it was heavy because she didn’t deserve it. She was well aware she only had it because she ended up being a Stark, there was no way this could ever happen to her being the mistress on turn for the Winter Soldier.

And even knowing it, she missed those times.

Everyone that worked in the restaurant knew she was sleeping with him, they also knew it was better for their tongues that she never heard them talk about it, Bucky made an example of the first and only one who tried, a jackass named Julian who liked to make women uncomfortable.

After that, everyone turned a blind eye when Bucky when to the bar and talk to her for hours, when he called her to his office and she used disappeared in there to don't go back to work for the whole shift, they saw them going home at night, both being walking proof of the affair.

Her friends sometimes looked at Bells with concern; especially Kate but no one said a thing.

She would get in the car with Bucky who would try to convince her to stop working so he could spoil her and Bells would gave him the same answer, she only wanted him, not his money.

It was so stupid of her, to believe he could feel the same one day but how could she not think it when he played his part so well? Treating him like she was something delicate, something beautiful, she wanted to believe he could want her, love her.

That was why she spent most of the nights with him during the months her fantasy ran wild, she was even familiar with his men, Steve and Sam adored her, Scott, Thor and Clint were sweet with her, even the stoic Loki smiled sometimes at her jokes.

Bucky made her feel at home, she had free reign in the house except for his office and they found their routine very quickly.

Even in the nights Bucky couldn’t join her right after work, he would find her sometimes eating alone in the kitchen or taking a shower and he would made up to her, he was so tender with Bells, making her feel everything was right, maybe it was because she never had a real home and she craved it that she was so easy to fool.

After taking the dress off her and removing her make-up, the girl curled in bed, refusing to cry again for him.

“Good morning, dragă, I made breakfast” was the first thing Bucky told his wife in the morning. His wife, he would never get tired of saying it even if it was only in his head.

She looked beyond beautiful, the ivory set of pants and jacket hug her curves and he was loving the cleavage cut he could see from his place in the counter. His wife looked like what she was, a Queen.

“Don’t call me that, James” hearing his name on her lips hurt but he deserved it, at least she didn’t call him by his last name.

Their last name.

“Does my lady prefer any other nickname?” he asked without stop smiling, serving her coffee like he knew she liked it.

“I have a name, stick to it”

Her name was beautiful, both of them, the one her parents gave her and the one he met her with but she was the woman he loved, dragă was really appropiate.

“You used to love when I called you that, I don’t think I should change it if we want this marriage to be believable” he shrugged, knowing well why his wife didn’t like it anymore.

“We made a deal, Barnes” oh, James was gone “you will not make anyone believe this after we deal with our enemies”

She really did believe he would give up on her, which almost made him smile. His dragă still had to learn a few things about him.

“You should eat, Mrs. Barnes, we have to be at your brother’s house in half an hour”

Bucky was the least happy about working with Tony Stark, he supposed they could have been friends in another circumstances but he hurt his sister, if Natasha would ever did the same to Becca, Bucky would never forgive her.

Thor drove them to Stark’s mansion and Bucky hated how at ease his wife was there, that wasn’t her home, not anymore.

Russo and Castle were waiting besides Stark who hugged his wife and kissed her cheeks, taking her away from Bucky, leaving him scowling beside Steve and Sam.

“You look like you drank your weight in alcohol, Billy” she giggled and Bucky’s heartache increased, when was the last time he made her laugh? He couldn’t remember.

“Are you trying to tell me something, topolina?” Russo inquired with an offended look while they walked to Stark’s office.

“Yes, she means you look like shit Bill” Castle answered before his wife could and they all laughed but Russo and Bucky, Sam and Steve were too busy talking with Thor to notice. He watched as they took her inside the house bringing back her sweet personality, all the love she felt for them that made him mad watching the “proof” of her betrayal slapping him in the face once again.

Maybe Hydra staged all that but it was his fault, his own insecurities and ghosts were what made her hate him and he couldn’t see the way out of the mess he created, not when the scars that piece of shit gave her in his murder attempt were visible every time Bucky could see her arms.

“Are you ok Buck?” Sam asked quietly, his gaze following Bucky’s, his dragă was smiling at Pepper and Tony, touching her sister in law’s bump. He might never get that with her and if it wasn’t with her- Bucky knew it now, if it wasn’t her, it was no one.

“I’m fine, let’s go”

Pierce had endless resources, deals with powerful people, enough money to buy himself a kingdom, lots of people who would kill for him without hesitation but with all that, he had an Aquiles heel.

“We know he feels like he already won the reelection for Mayor but I’m not so sure” Bells projected a picture of a handsome man dark hair. He had a kind smile and even the red sunglasses didn’t disminished his likable aura “Matthew Michael Murdock was born and raised in Hell’s kitchen, he graduated Columbia with honors with his best friend, Franklin Nelson, the current District Attorney and he was a champion of the people as a lawyer in his neighborhood despite he had multiple chances to work for a big firm, all of that changed when his soon to be wife, Karen Page, got in the way of Wilson Fisk”

Billy raised his hand as if he was in a classroom.

“Why does this sound like someone talking about their crush and how this helps us?” next to him, Maria hit him in the head and he yelped “I’m just saying!”

“She has a point, you would know it if you let Bells finish” his sister smiled at her friend “please go on topolina.

“Thanks Maria, you’re right as always” Bells winked at her and Maria blow her a kiss “Murdock it’s going to help us beat Pierce in the legal side and meanwhile dear Karen would help us convince him to let us give his campaign a hand” there was a mischievous grin in her face that Bucky had never seen before and it took everything in Bells to look away from him.

Pepper then cleared her throat and Bells took her seat, everyone looking at the ginger.

“Since Fisk got killed in jail, Miss Page got out of witness protection and Mr. Murdock reinforced his fight against the system from the political side” Bells helped her showing reports of Murdock’s popularity, his good press, all the people that supported him “we are going to destroy Pierce taking everything from him. Natasha and Yelena are working with Wanda and Maria to take more territory from him, Madani and Torres keep going after his most powerful lieutenants just like we talked about the last meeting.”

The map in the screen showed the comparison of the before and after, all the east side of the city that once was Pierce’s now it was all theirs, there were still parts resisting the change, it would have been quicker if the group didn’t tried to make the transition the less bloody as possible.

It wasn’t about power, even if it was what their line of work demanded, it was about revenge.

Pierce took something irreplaceable from each one of them, it would be only fair they’d leave him with nothing.

This time Bucky catched Bells eye and refused to let her go.

If not for Pierce, maybe they still would been together but maybe not, Bells was so afraid to tell him the truth about who she really was when Tony found her and it just added to the impending disaster they were, they would been living a lie, she would have been just the mistress, the toy on turn for someone that didn’t loved her.

Bells had to remind herself she didn’t need Bucky, she couldn’t, not after being the target of his cruelness, she couldn’t wash the memory of him fucking Jenna on his desk after telling Bells he loved her hours before.

She knew the truth now, she couldn’t forgive him, not when Bells’ heart was still aching for Bucky’s betrayal, for his lack of faith in her, for his lack of love towards her.

On the other side, Bucky was proud of her, his dragă was born to rule at his side and he didn’t care if he had to hunt Alexander Pierce himself, he would do anything to do this right.

If the murder of his father taught him something, it was that he wouldn’t fix anything feeling sorry for himself, Bucky had all the chances in the world to make amends and he would pay for every mistake with the blood of their enemies.

Tag list: learisa blackhawkfanatic queerqueenlynn calwitch pono-pura-vida

Hiya! This took me so long but it was only because I was stressing myself about it, then I decided to do whatever felt right and here we are! Also the nicknames I used here:

dragă: sweetheart.

topolina: little mouse.

Let me know what you think.

Love, Lily.

[imfinereallyy]

Tattooed Steve

now with a part 2 :)

I need tattooed Steve. Like Steve starts to get tattoos after Vecna. Maybe it’s because his body is covered in scars now, and he no longer has to hold on to the idea of permanently damaging his skin, cause like it already is. Or maybe it’s cause he’s trying to love his body again, and he sees how excited Eddie gets each time he gets to show off his tattoos. And Steve, Steve wants to feel that way too. Or maybe he likes the pain. Maybe it’s all three.

But Steve Harrington, wouldn’t be Steve Harrington if he wasn’t like massively insecure about his interests and his looks. So he keeps it a secret, for months (maybe even years depending on your tastes for slow burns). And it starts to get harder and harder because he can’t avoid tatting his arms (it’s prime real estate as Eddie put it once), and wearing long sleeves all the time isn’t ideal. But he continues the charade because let’s be real, most people in his life make him feel inadequate (big word, Robin would say) about almost everything. Especially the people he cares about.

The only one who never really makes him feel that way is Eddie. Sure he teases him to high heavens, and is absolutely disgusted by his music taste but Eddie never makes him feel stupid about it or make it seem like he doesn’t get an opinion. Which is actually kinda driving Steve nuts because it’s making it harder and harder to not to fall in love with him.

So it shouldn’t be a surprise at all that Eddie is the first to see them, he made Steve comfortable and that was dangerous. But it was hot in Eddie’s apartment (the a/c busted again), and Steve chose to wear a sweatshirt during mid-July with nothing underneath. So when Steve is sweating bullets, and Eddie just lets out an amused snort to just “take the damn thing off already”. Steve doesn’t really think. He just whips it off and leans back on the couch. It’s only after ten seconds of silence, and no eddie rambling that he realizes his mistake, and oh.

He doesn’t think he’s every seen Eddie Munson speechless.

Eddie reaches out to touch Steve without thinking (they had broken touch boundaries a long time ago, and damn it makes Steve want to kiss him so bad) and starts tracing his tattoos.

There is a bewildered look on Eddie’s face mixed with something heated. “When did you start getting these?” And oh, Steve doesn’t think he’s ever heard Eddie’s voice purr like that before. It makes Steve’s insides stir, and he’s pretty sure he would tell Eddie anything right now, do anything Eddie wanted.

“Last year, right after Vecna.” Steve’s breath hitches as Eddie slides his hands down his chest.

“Didn’t know you had it in ya big boy. Which was your first?” His eyes darken with even more heat.

Steve’s at a loss for words he can’t speak. Eddie needs to get his hands off of him if he wants him to actually respond. Instead Steve’s eyes wonder down his body where Eddie is starting to peak at the ones near his hips, and oh no…anyone but that one.

When Eddie hooks his fingers in his jeans and pulls down the right side, he freezes. Because there, right below the bat bite he and Eddie share, is a tattoo of a red guitar pick with a black and gold cursive E in the center (it’s also Steve’s only colored tattoo, despite his love of color he worries that colored ink will clash with his wardrobe).

“That’s not my first.” Steve rushes out when Eddie hasn’t said anything. “I uh, got it a couple of months ago on the anniversary of spring break. Sorry if it’s weird.”

Eddie’s eyes pop up to Steve’s, and gone is the heat. Instead there is something deeper, and much softer. “You’re an idiot.”

Steve freezes, because Eddie of all people, is now telling him something he likes is stupid. But before Steve can pull away in shame, Eddie holds his hips down and puts his face close to Steve’s. “You’re an idiot. Because of course it’s weird. And of course that’s why I absolutely love it. And it’s why I absolutely love you.”

Steve doesn’t think he’s every rushed so quickly so kiss somebody so hard before. And even when they fall off the couch, and he gets his sweat all over eddie, he can’t find it in himself to regret it one bit.

—

this completely got away from me, and I still need someone to write a fic like this asap, or like anything involving tattooed Steve. I also will jump for joy if someone draws something like this. Part two linked here

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve is afraid to touch Eddie.

But Eddie isn’t afraid to touch Steve. At all.

He doesn’t seem to be afraid to touch anyone actually.

His hands are like magnets, finding their polar opposites no matter who happens to be there.

Steve looks down at his own hands. Can hands be lonely? What a tragic sentiment.

He was known as the guy who slept around, the guy who gave his teammates a pat on the back when they pulled off an unexpected win, the guy who physically surrounded himself with people who thought friendly touches were slaps on the back that left bruises.

But he couldn’t think of the last time he touched someone in a casual, friendly way.

Eddie never held back. Steve wanted to be like that.

So he started giving every kid hugs when they left. They didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t help but be a little intimidated by Max’s raised brows and Mike’s lip curl the first few times he does it.

He holds Robin’s hand during movie night and she gives him a look that says she’s worried about him, but won’t say anything.

Even Argyle isn’t immune to his attempts, throwing a high five that turns into a much-too-long hand clasp that turns into awkwardly staring into each others’ eyes before Jonathan interrupts the moment with a laugh. Whatever that was may have pushed Steve’s abilities too far.

So when he thinks he can subtly lean into Eddie’s shoulder at dinner with Nancy and Robin, just to make sure he’s capable of touching him without his heart exploding, he tries.

Eddie freezes mid sentence. Robin’s eyes widen from across the table. Nancy’s eyes are squinting closed so tightly, it’s a miracle she can even still see out of them.

So Steve runs. Like, actually gets up and runs out of the room.

There’s no saving whatever that was and he’s just going to have to come to terms with never being able to look any adult in his life in the eyes again when he feels a strong hand on his shoulder. He could pull away, but he knows who the hand belongs to, and despite how miserable he’ll be during this conversation, he knows Eddie won’t just let it slide.

So he turns.

He looks at Eddie’s face.

And he realizes that he made a grave mistake.

No, not with the casual touch of shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm.

With running.

Eddie’s wide eyes were practically begging Steve to explain. So before Eddie even said a thing, Steve leaned in, wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, and let his head rest against his shoulder.

He let his mind wander to how Eddie’d spent the last few months brushing his hand against Steve’s when passing him in the kitchen, how he squeezed his knee in the car as a thanks for driving him to appointments when Wayne was busy, how he wrapped his arm around his shoulders when the kids were being too much and Steve had his hands on his hips ready to be the mom they all claimed he was.

How even as casual as Eddie was with touch, he’d never hugged Steve.

“Why haven’t you hugged me?”

Steve didn’t know why he asked out loud. It’s not like he was accusing Eddie of anything. Or maybe he was. Maybe he was more hurt than he thought. Maybe he thought that Eddie held back because Steve was untouchable to him in the ways that mattered.

“What?”

Eddie’s voice was quiet, damn near whispering. Steve took a second to realize his hands had very loosely found a home on his hips.

“You hug everyone else. I just wondered if I did something to make you think you couldn’t hug me.”

It’s all out there now, Harrington. He’s either gonna think you’re crazy or he’s gonna think you’re needy. Not sure what’s worse.

Suddenly, hands were tightening on his hips. Before Steve could react, Eddie’s arms were wrapping around his waist and squeezing him against his front.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

Steve felt Eddie shake his head, burying it further into his shoulder.

“I just didn’t think you wanted me to.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“A hug from the freak isn’t exactly a gold star for the king.”

Steve wasn’t having that. Not now, not ever.

He pulled his head away, causing Eddie to do the same.

“We aren’t those people. We’re well past being what teenagers thought of us.”

“But you’re still…you.”

“Me? And who am I?”

“Steve Harrington. Completely unattainable in every way. Untouchable.”

“You’re touching me right now.”

Eddie shook his head as if to clear it.

“It’s different.”

“Why?”

“God, you’re worse than a toddler who just learned they can ask questions.”

Steve couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his face. He waited for Eddie to continue.

“You remember what I told you in the hospital?”

Steve did. Of course he did. It was what sent him on a full spiral with Robin about his own sexuality. He hadn’t necessarily panicked, he’d just been shocked to know that the feelings he’d had about Tom Cruise were not because he was a great actor.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Usually straight guys aren’t really into queers touching them, even if it is innocent.”

The way Eddie spoke about himself was in direct contrast to the way he acted. He was loud confidence, exuberantly himself. But when it came down to it, he was just as insecure as Steve.

“Well maybe straight guys do, but I’m not exactly straight.”

They stared at each other in silence.

“Robin! You fucking lied to me!”

Steve snorted as Eddie yelled back towards the dining room.

“When did she lie to you?”

“Last month’s movie night. You kept looking at me like you wanted to kiss me and I thought I was going insane so after I asked Robin and she insisted that I was imagining it. Insisted!”

Steve couldn’t help the little giggle he let out at that. Robin was a great friend. A terrible liar, but a great friend.

“We could do that now.”

“Do what?”

Eddie sounded exasperated. Steve kind of loved it.

“Kiss.”

“Now?”

Steve nodded.

“We just hugged for the first time and now you want to kiss?”

Steve bit his lip, nodded again.

“Jesus Christ. I’m gonna have my hands full with you aren’t I?”

“And full of me too, if you know what I mean.”

Eddie groaned as Steve leaned further in.

“You gonna kiss me or should I do it?”

“You’re the brave one today.”

So Steve decided he could be brave and touch Eddie again. He placed his hand on Eddie’s cheek, gently pulling him in so they’re lips barely brushed against each other.

Steve always loved the anticipation before a kiss, but Eddie was impatient.

When Eddie closed the final few centimeters between them, Steve felt his stomach clench and his heart stop.

It was more than he expected to happen when he leaned into Eddie. But if leaning in is all Eddie needed, Steve could keep being brave and touch him.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Just then Eddie walks in, raising his brows at the veritable mountain of food Steve and Eleven are putting together. “What’s all this?”

Steve smiles warmly at him. “Hey, Eds,” he says, which is certainly an experience. He’s spoken roughly twice with the guy—in his memory—but Steve’s three chapters—nay, three books ahead. Eddie is Frodo, about to embark on his first journey, and Steve is Bilbo, or even Gandalf: someone who’s done this all before, whose eyes carry the weight of worlds.

Speaking of, Steve’s eyes dim slightly the longer Eddie takes to answer, so he waves his fingers at Steve, trying to ignore the swoop in his stomach when Steve’s smile brightens again. “So… what’s this?”

“Dinner,” Eleven answers. “We are making sandwiches.”

Eddie nods, because sure. Why not. “Okay.”

“How’s the song coming?” Steve asks, and the swoop returns, because not only is Steve asking, but he’s asking about Metallica, and Eddie’s gay, metal little heart can’t take it.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out, grinning. “It’s so good, oh my god. I mean, it’s gonna take a bit to learn, but it’s gonna be the most metal solo I’ve ever done.”

Steve’s smile dims again. Probably because he’s remembering what happened last time, i.e., Eddie’s death. Eddie pushes down the queasy feeling.

“Eddie,” Eleven says.

“Yeah?”

She turns to face him. Her eyes are more serious than any twelve-year-old’s eyes have any right to be. “You will be okay,” she says. Then, apropos of nothing, “And I can move things with my mind.”

Eddie blinks at that. Apparently his face is doing something, because Steve chimes in. “She can.”

“I can show you,” she volunteers.

“Anything but the utensils,” Steve says in a distracted voice, like this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation. Eddie wants to laugh hysterically, or maybe cry. Smoking a joint seems like the best third option, except all his stuff is at home. Fuck.

Then she does, lifts a whole cutting board—complete with tomatoes— and moves it over to him. He resists the impulse to snatch a piece and eat it. He doesn’t even like tomatoes, what the fuck, brain.

Steve’s watching with an amused little smile, like he can somehow read Eddie’s mind. That legitimately wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen today, so Eddie does his best to stop thinking about it, because he doesn’t think he can deal with more than one real-life superpower right now.

“I need that back, El,” Steve murmurs, and she grins at him before zipping it back over, stopping it just before it hits his face. He nods, brows raised, impressed. “Nice control. Put it down and go wipe your nose, please.”

She does, Steve watching her as she goes, fond little grin on his face. “She’s a good kid.”

“She can move things with her mind.”

“Yeah. Honestly, that’s one of the easier things to get used to. Y’know one of the craziest things, to me?”

“Do I want to know?” Eddie asks hesitantly.

Steve just grins at him. “Jonathan Byers has this baseball bat that he sticks a bunch of nails in.”

Eddie blinks at him. “What the actual fuck.”

Steve nods. “I took it, sometime back during the first year. Actually,” he thinks about it, “what month are we in?”

“Um. October.”

Steve winces. “Great. October…”

“Um. Twenty-fourth.”

Steve hums and thinks. “In about… less than a week, actually, I think—I don’t really know, the concussion messed up my days—oh, hey!” He suddenly says excitedly, then raises his voice. “Rob!”

Robin pops her head in a moment later. “What’s up?”

He grins at her. “No concussions!”

She stares. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. “Holy shit!” She says. “No concussions!”

“No memory loss!”

“No hearing loss!”

“No eyesight problems!”

She freezes. “Steve. You were having vision issues?”

“Um. Not anymore?”

She groans. “Since when?”

“Um…” he thinks, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Billy, I think. At least that’s the first time I really noticed it.”

She sighs. “I’m going to murder you.”

“Are not.”

“In cold blood.”

“Are not.”

“Nancy’ll help.”

Steve considers this. “She might. She’d be good at it.”

They both pause for a moment, then Robin turns to leave. “I’m gonna go make sure Jon doesn’t give you a concussion this time.”

“Have him make the nail bat, too!” Steve calls as she leaves.

“What,” Eddie says desperately, “the fuck.”

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[munsonsreputation]

steve's dating a girls girl

word count: [3.5K]

warnings: brief mention of homophobia & sexism (not explicitly stated but having regards to)

summary: steve doesn’t get what it means to be a girls girl but after watching his girlfriend stick by his friend’s side he starts to understand and appreciates what it means.

Two teenage girls sit in the back of Steve Harrington’s car. The same two girls he used to babysit when they were middle schoolers, and now who he occasionally gives rides to on weekends when their parents are too busy.

But one of them is crying, brunette hair spilling over the shoulder of her red head best friend who does her best to console her during the short ride to your place.

Steve had tried to calm her down, to get her talking in order to figure out what had upset her so much that Max called him from the mall payphone in order to get him to come pick them up an hour early, but she wouldn’t budge.

Instead, she simply requested for one thing: to go to Steve’s girlfriend’s house. And who was he to deny her that, after all you would know what to do in this situation, you called yourself a girls girl…whatever that meant.

It’s not long before they arrived, the two girls speedily hopping out of the backseat with El still glued to Max’s side as they walked up to your front door. Steve’s spare key, quickly turning into the lock and pushing open, being greeted with the sight of you sitting on the couch painting your nails.

Your eyes dart up to the door, delighted to see your boyfriend here with your two favorite girls, but immediately they fill with worry and heartache at seeing the way El forces a smile on her somber face.

“What happened?!” It comes out rushed, almost desperate.

You quickly cap your bottle of nail polish, striding towards the two girls and embracing them with a hug not caring about your freshly manicured fingertips that are surely smudged now.

El instantly takes up most of the hug, and Max doesn’t seem to mind one bit, clinging to your side as you smooth down the hair on both of their heads before she pulls away and lets you get some time with her best friend.

You can feel her tears soaking through your t-shirt, heavy sobs that leave her back heaving and her breaths shallow.

It tears Steve right in half, seeing her so sad and not knowing what he can do to make it all better. He shuts the door softly, answering for El, knowing she can’t right now.

“Max called and asked me to come get them. When I showed up she was crying, but she hasn’t told me why, just asked to come here.” Steve says gently, greeting you with a kiss to the cheek as his hand comes to soothe El’s back tenderly.

Your brows furrow, looking down at her as she still keeps her face buried. “Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right? You know that I’m always here to listen no matter what, honey.”

Your voice is gentle yet stern, needing her to know that whatever was bothering her was more than valid and she could take as much time as she needed before she felt comfortable talking about it to you.

She pulls away, loosening the hug as her fists came up to wipe away at her tears and nods her head understandingly — she knows you’re always gonna be there for her, that’s why she wanted to come and see you.

You smile a bit, letting your hands come up to grasp her cheeks and swipe away at the stray tears with your thumbs, careful not to tug too harshly on her delicate skin, “Why don’t you sit? I’ll go get you water and some tissues, okay?”

You pat her shoulder, letting Max guide her to the couch as you swiftly head for the kitchen, swinging open the fridge to grab two water bottles. You can feel Steve’s presence behind you, and you don’t blame him for following you and not knowing what to do with a crying teenage girl.

After all, he was an only child.

“Did she say anything else on the drive here?” You murmur, closing the fridge and turning around to see him biting nervously on his thumb as he shook his head.

He pulls open one of your cupboards, retrieving a new tissue box and then looking at you.

“I…I really tried to get her to talk and calm down. Those breathing exercises and whatnot, but maybe I was doing it all wrong—”

He’s panicking as if he did something wrong, which you know he didn’t. If anything, he already did the right thing by following El’s request and giving her space.

You smile fondly, pecking his lips to get him to shut up, which he does so happily. When you pull away, he’s a little more at ease, letting his shoulders relax as you give his chest a pat.

“I’m sure you did great and I’m positive that El appreciates it, but right now she’s really upset and sometimes breathing exercises don’t solve the problem in the moment. But just know you did really good babe, and I’m so glad that you brought her here.”

You give him another kiss before you took the tissues from his hand and head back to the living room where El seemed to calm down a bit. He follows behind you, still standing nearby while you sat between her and Max, offering the brunette the water and resting the tissues in her lap.

She took small sips, gradually draining the bottle before looking at you, “I—It’s about Mike…he made me cry.”

You take a sharp intake of breath, nodding as you’ve been in this predicament when you were her age too.

“Stevie, do you mind running to the store?”

He blinks, nodding his head vigorously because he knows he can do that right. His hands already begin to reach into his pocket as he answers, “Yeah, yeah sure…for what exactly?”

You stand, walking over to him as you explain the long yet very needed list of items.

“Ice cream. Chocolate bars. Frozen Pizza. Popcorn. Coca Cola. And brownie mix.” You list firmly, like he can’t dare to forget anything.

“And twizzlers!” Max adds.

Steve nods, patting his back pocket to make sure he has his wallet, as you mouth “thank you,” to him.

“I’ll be back in twenty.” He promises giving you a peck before he’s out the door and you’re already back on the couch listening as El explains the whole story which confirms your reasoning that Mike is the biggest idiot of all time.

Steve can see the steam coming from the top of your head as you both sit across from Nancy and Jonathan. The way your fists are clenched under the table and how your knee bounces with every word that comes out of Nancy's mouth.

You’re furious, nearly livid as you turn red.

“He’s just awful! I mean just terrible scum on the bottom of my shoe, if I’m being honest. He dehumanized me in front of everyone and just expected me to stand there and take it.” Nancy is in shambles, about to burst into tears any second now.

You can see her hands shake while she retells her pervious shift of her summer job at the Hawkins Post. She’s about to full on breakdown in the middle of Benny’s and you don’t blame her one bit especially for the way she’s been treated so far. It was supposed to be a fun experience; her pursing an opportunity for something she’s insanely talented and passionate about, but now it was the complete opposite.

She shakes her head, groaning as she rests her head on the table. “I thought this was supposed to be a cool summer job. Now I just feeling like submitting my two weeks and quitting.”

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck that!” You explode, slamming your open palm against the diner tabletop making a loud noise that got Nancy pulling her head back up.

You look her dead in the eyes, saying your words as firm as you can, “Tom and the rest of those men don’t deserve shit from you, not even a two weeks’ notice.”

Nancy swallows and keeps her eyes on yours that don’t even seem to blink for a second, “You’re too good for them, Nance, and I swear to god, I’m not going to let you walk back in there and get treated like that all over again.”

You point your finger towards Jonathan and Steve, looking as determined as ever with your jaw clenched tight.

“You guys are with me on this, right?”

Both boys don’t even dare to take more than a millisecond to respond. Nodding their heads and sitting up straighter than before.

“Yes…yes!”

You nod, letting your hand fall as you reach across and grab Nancy’s, pulling the both of you up and out of the booth, “C’mon, there’s a payphone outside and you’re gonna give them hell.”

“God, I love you.” Nancy thanks you with a relieved smile letting you charge the way towards the outside of the diner.

Steve bites back a smile, patting the top of Jonathan’s palm and tilting his head towards the door. “Let’s go dude, you’re up next.”

The bed feels too empty, and he was way too much of the blankets over his body, so it’s no surprise when he peeps his eyes open that you're nowhere to be found.

He can see the light from the living room protruding from under the door and faint talking. It’s probably your insomnia again and not wanting to wake him up, but he goes to check on you, anyway.

“It’s gotta be in here somewhere,” you mutter, flipping harshly through the worn textbook pages.

Max groans, flinging her head back on the couch swiping her notebook off her lap. “We should just give up. Let’s face it, I suck at history and I’m gonna fail this stupid midterm.”

From behind the dim corridor, he can make out the stacks of paper scattered across the floor and the coffee mugs that are still steaming on the table.

It’s really late…too late for Max to even be over at this hour when she had school in the morning, but it must be for a good reason.

“You’re not stupid, Max.” You claim, slapping the textbook shut and sitting crisscrossed in front of her.

She sulks and sighs like she presumes you’re lying, but you aren’t.

“You’re so smart and just because you struggle doesn’t mean you’re stupid. I mean look at you,” you gesture at her with a smirk, “you know so much about skateboarding, Dig Dug, and you even know how to drive shift—”

“Wellllll, I almost crashed,” she retorts with a raised brow.

You both share giggle, covering your faces as she goes on about how driving shift was only for people who could multi-task. And Steve stifles his laughter behind a fist he’s biting down on because he doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

You grab her hands and give it a squeeze. “You’re smart, Maxine — whether you want to believe it or not, you’re insanely smart. And no matter what grade you get on the midterm, it’s not gonna define you. Got it?”

She grins, closing her eyes as she gets up and wraps you up in a hug before pulling away and rubbing her hands together.

“We’re gonna find this stupid textbook page and I’m gonna ace that stupid quiz.”

Steve watches in adoration, the both of you beginning to shuffle through the bulky books once again. He’ll be sure to cuddle you extra when you finally come to bed and he’ll grab Max her favorite donut, before he takes her to school in the morning.

“You don’t find this…weird?” Robin urges while her fingers pull on themselves while you sweep some blush over the apples of her cheeks.

“Nope!” you say, popping the ‘p’ and giving her a reassuring smile.

Steve never thought he’d see you in your prom dress again, the same prom dress you had worn to the prom he took you to. But it’s for a good reason. You’re going to prom again, but this time with Robin.

“Do you find this weird?” She directs the question to him, looking up through her lashes to where he’s sitting across the kitchen table watching.

He purses his lips and shakes his head no, looking as nonchalant as ever as he watches his girlfriend continue the makeup on his best friend’s face.

“I think it’s perfectly fine…what’s the difference between guys taking girls to prom?”

Robin scoffs because she knows she has had this conversation with Steve time and time again.

“A girl taking another girl to prom is like social suicide in our town! Have you met Jason Carver? He’ll probably try to put me into conversion therapy if he sees me on the dance floor with her.”

You frown, withdrawing your hand away from her face while you drop the brush onto the table. It’s a terrifying thought that someone would have to hide who they were because a bunch of people didn’t want to accept that girls could like girls and boys could like boys.

If it’s terrifying for you, you can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like for Robin. Having to hide who she was in order to protect herself against a bunch of grade A asshole.

But you’d be damned if she was going to miss out on her one and only prom night because of them.

Your forehead creases as you begin to speak. “He’s an idiot and if him or anyone thinks that there’s something wrong with you because you like girls then that just shows how close-minded he really is.”

Robin feels like the sister you never had, which is ironic because she and Steve pretty much act like brother and sister. Always bickering and poking trouble at each other, but when it comes down to it, they’re always there for one another.

“Yeah, but what if they try something?” She reveals with uncertainty, “You know, pour punch over us while we’re dancing or make some crude comment—”

Your hands hold her face, not caring that you’re messing up her foundation, but you just knew she needed to hear this.

“Just breathe, Robs…relax, it’ll be okay.” You breathe with her, letting your hands fall from her cheeks to her shoulder as she begins to calm.

“No one is going to hurt you. I’ll stick by your side the entire night and I swear to God if someone tries anything I’ll be throwing the first punch before they can touch you.” You promise, gripping her shoulders reassuringly.

The protective side jumps out of you when it comes to people you love, but your heart has a special place for Robin. Out of everyone, Robin hates confrontation, and so do you, but the only difference is Robin hangs her head low and is the bigger person, walking away and not wanting to escalate it.

You’re the exact opposite of that, so when you heard that Robin was getting teased for not having a date to prom but not wanting to go with a guy, you didn't hesitate to volunteer yourself to accompany her. Prom is something she’s been looking forward to, and you weren’t going to let anyone ruin that for her.

You swallowed, giving her a comforting smile as you pour your heart out to her because she deserves to hear it.

“You deserve to go to this and have a blast without feeling like you’re a problem, because you’re not. You’re human like everyone else and if they have a problem with whom you show up with, then they’re. the. problem.”

It’s a genuine smile, her eyes glazed with a layer of tears she’s struggling to hold back. Her lips are quivering and you can feel her blood run warm under your touch.

“I’m trying really. really. really hard not to blink because I don’t want to mess up my mascara.” She chokes, biting her lip.

You gasp, reaching over the table for Q-Tips as you gently press the cotton into the inner corners, demonstrating for her to blink as it soaks up the salty tears.

The two of you are laughing now, having Robin make a comment about how she was already crying like a baby and the night didn’t even begin yet.

“You’re the bestest,” she declares, chuckling tenderly as you gently swipe the swab over her waterline collecting the remainder of tears.

Being careful, you press a light kiss to her cheek, “You’re the bestest of the best because you’re taking me to prom…making me feel young again!” you quip, nudging her arm with your elbow.

Steve finally speaks, scoffing as he begins to get up and head towards something in the living room, “We’re only two years older than her,” he calls out behind him.

“Yeah…old.” Robin replies with a snort while you shake your head and stifle your laughter.

He comes back not even a minute later with the polaroid camera in his hands. “Shut up and pose for the camera, Buckley.”

“Cheese!”

Safe to say, he captures all the behind-the-scenes photos of you two getting ready for prom. Even makes the both of you do those corny poses and proceeds to label each one with prom ‘86 while he waits patiently in the parking lot for prom to end.

It’s a party. A big self care, junk food, Madonna blasting party.

The video games were long abandoned in the Wheeler basement as the boys couldn’t stand to hear the singing and especially the dancing coming from above them any longer.

They felt like they were missing out and they sure were.

“Are the face masks really necessary?” Dustin grumbles standing in the middle of the living room looking less than pleased.

Erica smirks wickedly, bowing her head as she turns over her shoulder where you’re doing something with El’s hair — weaving glittery strands of neon hair within the roots.

“So are the tinsels, so hurry up and get in line.” Erica demands popping open the jar of clay mask mixture.

Steve’s pretty much accustomed to all of this, beside the glittery tinsel. You and him have self care nights once a week and it’s pretty relaxing if he does say so himself so he doesn’t mind that he’s the first one to step up and get his face lathered in the detoxing mask.

By the time the shimmery green tinsel is nested in his hair, El and Max take over your job having too much fun yanking on the guys hair and making their Friday night miserable.

You and Steve are cozied up on the recliner, watching the movie play over the slight hisses and curses of the kids. It isn’t long after that Steve spots a tiny figure lingering in his peripheral.

He sits up, looking closer as they come more into the light, “…Oh, hey, Holls.”

She’s wrapped up in her favorite blanket, the thick fabric nearly weighing her down as she waddles closer. You shift against him, smiling as you wave over the girl. She approaches you both wearily, not knowing if she’s allowed to be up this late.

“Did you have a bad dream?” You propose gently, brushing a stray hair behind her ear as she shakes her head and lowers the blanket from where it’s covering her mouth.

“Nuh-uh, just couldn’t sleep.” She replies sadly, wiping her tired eyes because though she’s only five, she knows how precious sleep is.

You pout just as wistfully, standing up and offering her a hand, which she gladly takes.

“Wanna put some pretty tinsel in your hair?” You suggest, showing her the strand of pink that is in your hair. She looks amazed, like you have superpowers and she desperately wants the entire rainbow scattered all over her head.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” Mike retorts, sneering over at Holly as she furrows her brows, giving him a mean mug that shows she’s less than intimidated by her older brother.

Steve whistles sharply, snapping his fingers, “Shut it, Michael. Don’t you have some zits to be treating?”

Mike doesn’t try to rebut, instead rolling his eyes and crossing his arms like an upset little boy put in timeout. Steve thinks this is what he gets for making El cry like that a few days ago, and he’s not sorry one bit.

Nancy reaches forward, rubbing her little sisters back affectionately, “You can stay up but just as long as you don’t tell mom and dad, alright?”

The girl beams widely, feeling more awake than she has been for the past hour. “Kay!”

It’s a sight, watching you carefully weave the rainbow strands of tinsel throughout her head of hair. It’s only a matter of time before the girls created their own little circle within the living room gushing over Barbie dolls and everything else while the boys just sat and watched.

But Steve is doing way more than watching…he’s admiring. Especially you. The way you make all his friends feel comfortable, but especially the way you make all his female friends feel loved and appreciated.

He’ll never really fully understand this whole womanhood thing, but he knows that it’s special. The bond you have with them means everything to you and your friendships that you have with each and everything single one of them is special.

It a girls girl world and he’s just living in it…he wouldn’t have it any other way.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i saw the Barbie movie a few weeks ago and it completely broke me down into full tears at the movie theater. i had this concept of a girls girl fic/blurb for a while but just needed more inspiration to get it done. it's not easy being a girl then following that up by going through womanhood -- there are so many complex things about it that i cannot even begin to go on about rn because i'll probably cry. i just hope you know that im incredibly proud of each and every single one of you. it's okay to cry and be vulnerable. feel things for what they are and take the time to understand where they are coming from. be there for the people you love and be kind to the people you meet in passing. take the time to enjoy life and reflect on how far you've come. and in the wise words of Dr. Taylor Alison Swift, "So make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it. You've got no reason to be afraid."

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3@arunabrak

[royalsweetteaa]

Hi! I really like your HC AU. Could you do one of how Cevans characters would react to reader flinching during an argument?

Oooh I love this idea! 🥹💔 Let’s get to it!

POV: Y/N flinches in midst of an argument.

Warning - The following HC contains: angst/fluff, comfort, reader has hinted trauma.

Steve Rogers

Steve would cut himself off and stare at you. “Doll, why did you wince like that?…did I raise my voice too loud? I didn’t mean to if I did but I….you know me…I have never and wouldn’t…” Steve begins to ramble a little with his words as he processes what just happened. “Who hurt you, my love? Please, tell me…I’m worried…this had to have come from somewhere, right?” Steve asks as he’s ready to receive an explanation while pulling you in to stroke your back gently. He listens, already plotting in his head to pay ‘someone’ a visit responsible for your trauma response.

Ransom Drysdale

Ransom raises his eyebrows as he sees you flinch and he furrows, confused. “Kitten,…did you seriously think I was about to hit you just now?” Ransom would ask with his arms crossed. “…Do you think I would steep that low?” A part of him takes offense as he first assumes that’s the whole story, but the pieces pick up slowly that this could have come from a previous encounter. He sighs, realizing he’s handling this poorly. “Darling…I didn’t mean for you to react that way. I hope you’re not scared of me…are you?” He’s relieved when you shake your head, and he decides it’s best if you both take a break from arguing. He comforts you, reassuring there’s nothing to be worried about. He hopes you’ll eventually tell him and explain on your own why you flinched.

Andy Barber

Andy would shut his mouth the moment he sees you flinch, and he would stay still as he processes the moment. When he receives your look of feeling guilty, his face softens, “Oh honey…it’s okay, let’s stop arguing about this and talk about what happened, okay? Did I scare you?” He asks first, not wanting to put much pressure on you. He wants to know right away if it was him who had caused you to flinch, and he wants you to feel safe so he speaks in his most soothing tone. When he sees you’re not reacting negatively to his closeness, he pulls you in to an embrace, making you feel safe.

Jake Jensen

Jake would stiffen, wondering what just happened to make you flinch. “Are you okay? You just flinched as if I was going to…” his heart breaks in a million pieces as he puts two and two together. He carefully takes your hands to give you reassurance. “Baby, what happened? Was it me?…You know you can talk to me about anything…I’m all ears, always.” Jake would reassure as he makes you sit down on the couch with him encouraging a chat about it. This incident would bother Jake for a long time, and he would often catch himself in future mid-arguments asking if he’s not coming across as too aggressive to make sure you won’t react like that ever again.

Johnny Storm

Johnny’s sentence would die out the moment he sees you wince and ask, “What was that?”, distraught and confused. “Did you just…” he doesn’t complete his sentence as he flattens his hands and raises them. “Babe,…I’m never putting my hand on you…my parents, while they died when I was very young raised me good enough to know that’s never okay…I wouldn’t do that even if you called me names or cursed at me like Ben always does!” He makes light out of the situation to distract you and pulls you in to caress you when he sees a small smile form on your lips, already leaving you two to forget about what you were even arguing about.

Ari Levinson

Ari’s response to you flinching would be to take a step back and give space between the two of you. He’s encountered women with traumatic responses before and knows that to deescalate the trigger, he needs to show he isn’t going to do any harm, like raising his hand. He would then say to you in a soothing voice, “Sweetheart,…I apologize if I came off as heated just now…let’s put this aside and think of something else, alright?” He would then crouch down, look up at you and making himself small to further deescalate your trauma response. You would respond getting closer to him and come into his welcoming and warm embrace, as you know Ari’s safe. It’s all forgotten and Ari doesn’t see any point of bringing up the argument again. Your feeling of safety comes first.

Thank you @imyourbratzdoll for helping me out a little on this one! ♥️🥰

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

[munsonfamilyband]

I’ve had a Different Meeting AU stuck in my head for ages and I’ve decided to share it

After Starcourt Steve can’t sleep. The nightmares and panic keeps him from getting sleep; if he’s lucky he gets an hour. After a week he’s falling apart and he suddenly remembers a piece of his past - he remembers smoking weed with Tommy H and sleeping like a baby. So he starts digging, ends up having to talk to people he never wanted to speak to again, but he finds out who to call.

Eddie Munson. The name is familiar, but the number isn’t. Steve calls Eddie and sets up a meeting the next day to buy some weed. When he drives to the meeting spot he walks through how he’s going to apologize for who he was. Steve is pretty sure he never did anything to Eddie but he wants to be safe rather than sorry. He gets out of his car and ambles through the woods to meet Eddie at a picnic table. Eddie Munson is sitting on the table, legs kicked out in front of him and leaning back on his elbows. Steve quickly averts his eyes from the tattoo he can see on Eddie’s stomach where his shirt has ridden up. He’s aware that he finds men attractive, has been since Jonathan beat him up in ‘83, but now is not the time. Eddie looks up when Steve steps into the clearing and smirks.

“You’re late, I was starting to think you were going to stand me up.”

“Uh, sorry, I got a little side tracked. But um, before we do this I wanted to say sorry…I guess? I’m not sure if I ever did anything to you in school, I’m pretty sure I didn’t but I wanted to apologize for being a dick anyway.” Eddie just blinks at him, grin gone, as he sits up fully while still sitting on the table.

“You’re….. sorry?”

“Yeah, man. I’m trying to be a better person, throw the whole ‘King Steve’ shit out, and I figured that apologizing to the guy I’m hoping will sell me weed is a good place to start, y’know?” Steve knows that there’s a flush crawling up his neck from the embarrassment, can feel it heating up his ears, but he can’t focus on that with Eddie Munson staring at him with his big eyes and wild, curly hair- nope, stopping that right now.

“Oh. Well, you didn’t do anything, I mean, your buddy, Tommy H, used to fuck with me until he started buying my shit. The guy’s almost feral but he isn’t stupid enough to piss off his dealer. So, I guess we’re good then?” Steve breathes out a sigh of relief, moving closer to the table to sit while Eddie climbs down to sit on the opposite side. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Steve clears his throat, glancing around a bit. Eddie probably assumes it’s from nerves around the deal, which is fine with Steve. He doesn’t need to know that Steve is still looking over his shoulder for Russians and flesh monsters. “Uh, look, man. I know you’re wondering about my face, and it has to do with why I’m looking to buy. I was at the mall when it…burned down.” Steve hears Eddie mumble something like ‘holy shit’ under his breath. “I got knocked over during the panic and got trampled,” Steve easily lies. The cover story had been repeated to him until he knew it just as well as the real events. “Ever since, I’ve been having a hard time sleeping and I know weed can help so I was looking to get some to help.” He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, studying his face in a way that reminds him eerily of Nancy.

“I can totally get why you would need weed after that. But, no offense or anything, you seem way more nervous about this than normal.” Steve can’t help but sigh, of course the drug dealer can read him like a book.

“Yeah, I uh, I got drugged when I was at a club a little while ago. I guess I’m nervous about being high again, even though I need to sleep.” Steve meets Eddie’s eyes and watches a complicated series of emotions flash across the other man’s face before seeming to decide on something.

“Okay, I normally wouldn’t do this, but you really do seem to be trying to be better, and you’ve clearly been through a lot lately, so I’m going to make an offer and you can decline if you want, but I figured I would try.” Eddie takes a deep breath, Steve narrowly avoiding watching his cheat expand with it. “Because you’re nervous about this, I can waive the fee this time and bring the pot to smoke with you. So that you don’t have a bad trip, or whatever.” Steve freezes, thrown aback by the offer. After a moment he is able to voice a response.

“You would do that for me?”

“I mean, just because I deal drugs doesn’t mean I have no morals. It feels weird to sell you shit and then let you go off on your own knowing you had a traumatic experience.”

Steve, despite being stunned, manages a smile. “That- thank you, Eddie. That is- I appreciate it a lot.”

The quickly make a plan to meet up the next day at Steve’s house, and Steve offers to get food as payment.

This pattern continues for a month before Eddie’s friends convince him to try a move on Steve - who has been maybe flirting since they met - and the night ends with them making out on Eddie’s couch. They date happily for 6 months, laughing as they pretend to not know each other in front of the kids, until the first day of Spring Break Steve sees a trailer he spends more time at than his own house on the news. As soon of Dustin and Max show up, Steve is grabbing his keys and running to his car, knowing exactly where Eddie is hiding.

Steve never wanted his boyfriend to get involved with this part of his life, but there is no way he will leave him alone now that he is.

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 11

Summary: can Steve be honest with himself, with you, and with his best friend?

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, mentions of markings, mentions of biting, bruises, unprotected sex, PIV sex, degradation, manhandling, creampie, cockwarming in public, voyeurism, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

*tattoo edit by @randomagnes0210

Steve smiles as he looks over your sleeping body. A warm comfort fills his entire insides up. You look more beautiful now, in this state of sprawled out mess than he has ever seen you. Perfect. No one could ever compare to you. And seeing you like this he takes the time to think about all that had happened between the two of you. Of how he’s never spent the time on anyone that he has on you. You’ve surpassed his every fantasy he’s had.

Picking up his phone, he scrolls through his messages. Having to scroll down further than he ever has for this contact before clicking it. His hand hovers over the keyboard a moment. Fingers tapping over the glass, before he erases everything he had just typed. He didn’t know what to say.

Laying his phone down he stares at you. Chuckling to himself because even asleep, you knew what you were doing. Turned on your side, and giving him the sweetest sneaky peek of your cunt. Your lips swollen and puffy from the pounding he had been giving you. Glistening in the early morning light, and ready to take him again. You really are his little slut.

Bruises and marks splattered over various parts of your skin. If you didn’t show that you did in fact like it, he would hate himself. He’s amazed at himself for how many different places his mouth had left their mark on your body. Reddened bruises and even teeth marks. Having to bit you for the amount of pleasure that overwhelmed his body.

He wants to hate himself for causing you any bit of pain or discomfort, and then you sigh in your sleep. Your body stretches out even more, and pushes the blankets down your body. You are a work of art. That little grin that pulls up your mouth. You’re, for now, satiated. You had proven to be just as much of a fend as him.

If you were awake, you were filled with him. So now he sits quietly, and hopes you can actually rest. You hadn’t gotten used to his size. And he coos at you with every wince when he stretches you open. It’s adorable, and he can tell you hate how he goes a bit softer as he’s entering you. Steve is a bit of a contradictory roller coaster, but especially during sex.

Steve hears a little tap on his bedroom door, and he pulls the covers back over you. He got the alert that Sam was driving up here, so it wasn’t a surprise. “Come in,” Steve whispers, and presses his hand on your bum when you stir. He wants you to sleep for a few hours this time. No more naps.

Sam waits in the doorway, watching the two of you. Noting how Steve can’t turn away. He rolls his eyes as he leans against the doorframe, “You get it now?”

“Get what?”

Steve still never stops to look at Sam. In the few days you have been holed up in the cabin, Sam sees a real change in Steve. There isn’t that hardness that’s usually present. “You finally understand caring for someone more than yourself,” Steve looks up at his friend, and responds by nodding his head.

”Dove looks exhausted.”

”I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to. She is worse than me,” you weren’t quite there. But it wouldn’t take much. You were experimental with sex. Willing to try whatever Steve wanted to.

”I’m doubtful of that,” Steve huffs out a laugh, and turns to look back at you. You are too soft for him, and yet there’s this devil that lurks under your top layer of sweetness. “You need to call Bucky.”

”Why?”

“Because, you get why he was angry. Why he needed to leave. Why he knew you needed to protect Dove. Bucky knew before you did that you had found your person, and he didn’t want you to scare her away. And then you insulted his fiance,” feeling a bit of shame makes Steve unable to look up at Sam. But his eyes flick towards his phone. he’s tried a few times to text Bucky since you two hadn’t left this cabin. Barely even ate.

“Imagine someone calling Dove a basket case,” his heart feels like someone is squeezing it, and he has to watch you sleep to center himself. “Bucky and Shy deserve your respect. The things Bucky has done for Dove were for you. Call him. I think Shy would do Dove some good. Maybe she can soften your darkened Dove. I can’t believe she was this sweet little innocent girl. And now…”

“Sam, I’m going to marry her, and make her the mother of my children.”

“Then call Bucky. My wife sent me with a basket of food. Feed her.”

Steve didn’t have to tell Sam that he had been thinking of calling, well texting, Bucky. Sam had this ability to just know. It’s why he completed their friendship. He is the steady one. The one that helps keep them in line. And the one that isn’t afraid to call either of them out. And if he was letting it be known that Steve needed to talk to Bucky it was time.

But first, he was going to enjoy you again. But going back into the real world was looming ever closer. He couldn’t keep you here, even if he wanted to. Make you just take him whenever he feels like it. Work had to be done. He had an empire. And he needed his other part to join back in with the business.

”Mmm,” you whine, looking over your shoulder at him. “Captain, why isn’t your cock deep in my cunt, and fucking me awake?”

“And why is my pretty little bird saying fuck when I’m not inside her?”

“What is my captain going to do about it?” He gives you an evil grin, before ripping your legs apart. Positioning you more on your knees, lifting you up to get the perfect angle. He spits into his hand, and you mewl. Turning your head back to look at him as his thick hand runs through your folds.

“You’re drenched.”

“Because I need you to fuck me,” he draws his hand back, and quickly slaps over your bare center. “Fucking destroy me. Just…mmm,” moaning when he gets to his knees and his monstrous cock springs up to life. Dripping in precum as he presses hard in between your shoulder blades, and pushing you into the mattress. “You gonna fuck me, Captain.”

“Nope,” he chuckles as he lines himself up, he roams his silky steel rod between your lips. Coating Clarence in your juices, while you whimper into the sheets. “I’m going to murder your pussy,” he says, and with the next breath his hips push him through your sensitive cunt.

It stings, and you’re tender, but the fact you can hear Steve groan in pleasure behind you sets your soul soaring. His hands grope hard over your hips as he pistons deep inside of you. Becoming one with him again, and you start to sink into the bed with his force.

Stabbing into you with no remorse, until you’re flat on the bed, and still he jams himself deeper. “Is that what it takes to keep my little bird happy? Dovey, you need me to treat you like my little slut that bad?”

“Uh huh. Mmm,” your knuckles change color with how tight you cling to the sheets, and still you want more. Would be completely satisfied with Steve's entire weight pushing himself into you. The pleasure is just too much as you feel your body go into a different place. This was heaven. And Steve reminded you of this beautiful place multiple times a day.

He wants himself to be your religion. Needs you to desire nothing more than him. Like all you needed to survive was Steve Rogers. Your body acts on its own accord, and keeps your ass pointed up, so he can get extra deep. Could feel him all the way in your throat as he rearranges your insides. Accommodating him in a way no one ever has. Letting him use you as his little sex doll.

Manhandling you into whatever position he wanted. You couldn’t make up your mind on what feels the best because you just need him inside of you. Need to feel the way his piercing drags onto your skin as he pulls himself out, and then stabs right back into you. You were no longer human. Or yourself. You are just his.

“Steve!” You scream, muttering out gibberish. Speaking in tongues as you soar high with pleasured pain.

”You’re so fucking dumb for my cock, aren’t ya, Dovey? Sweet little Dove getting herself turned inside out for Steve Rogers’ cock. And she looks so pretty taking every bit of me. Doesn’t matter that it hurts a bit. We make it fit, huh?”

“Yeah. Yes! Steve, I’m coming. I’m coming!”

“My god, yes, you are. Got me in a fucking vice grip. Fuck, Dovey. You feel how deep I am?” You feel me flowing through your veins?” He reset everything in your body. You were the worst addict. You need a hit of him constantly. You would let this man treat you like a fucking rag doll, thanking him, and begging him to do it again.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! So fucking tight. So fucking warm. Dovey, you got me coated in your pretty cum. Are you ready to feel me? Ready for me to paint the insides of you?”

“Please, Captain. Want you inside of me all day.”

”You fucking whore. You sweet fucking slut of mine! Ahh!” He screams as his load shoots into your belly. Your brows raise in satisfaction as your walls milk every bit of his warmth. Swallowing his essence to keep inside of you for the times he couldn’t be. “You like that, baby?”

“It feels so good,” you sigh. Ready to cry as he starts to pull out of you. “But I hate when you do that.”

”I know, sweet Dovey,” leaning forward he leaves the sweetest kisses down your slit. Finishing on your clit, before righting himself, and staring at his handy work. “I love seeing you wide open because of me. Your cunt swollen, and would you look at that. Mmmm,” he moans as his cum starts to seep out. “Never miss a drop, hmm? You my sweet cum slut?”

”I’m whatever you want me to be.”

”And I want you filled, and leaking of my cum today. We got to go into the real world.”

”But Steve,” you start to protest, but he pushes three fingers into your gaping hole. Stopping all your thoughts because he just feels that damn good.

”You are only quiet when you’re stuffed. Shh, I’m talking, you listen. As much as I would love to fuck you like the little slut you are, we have to be adults. We have a life. I have a business. We can’t…Dove, you’ve got that look on your face. What do you want?”

“Can…no one has to know, but can I keep you warm today? We both get what we want,” he promised to make you sit and take him while he conducted business. And now you want to collect on that promise. You didn’t know who knew that you were full of Steve. It was your silent way of claiming him for everyone to see. He belonged to you.

”You’re killing me.”

”And I feel empty. You don’t want me to feel empty, do you? Steve? Captain? Please, can I keep your cock warm? I’ll sleep,” honestly, sleeping with him inside of you sounded peaceful. You knew that you could rest as long as he was there.

You are a menace to him. You broke down most of his walls, and made him want to do nothing more but to spoil you and give you whatever you want. “You better actually sleep,” just your smile, and the wiggle of your ass is enough for him to know that he made the right decision. You are his, and everyone needs to understand that they will respect you. Only he can degrade you. And he will. Later.

He never tires of watching you. Even now with his cock nestled inside of you, and your eyes gently closed, a soft snore of exhaustion hums off your lips, you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He doesn’t care when everyone walks into the meeting room to see you sitting atop his lap, with your legs lazily dangling beside him.

Sure they could know that he is stretching you out. They can see you snuggled up against his disgusting burn mark. Able to watch your lips pucker out and kiss his mark. Your little sleepy sigh is the loudest noise in the otherwise silent meeting room.

This room is supposed to be his safe space. Everyone here should respect not only you, but will be willing to protect you at all cost. It’s an understood thing. Nobody here should take stock of how even when Steve speaks, his voice is softer. Whispering so he doesn’t wake you.

While everyone is listening to Steve, Sam’s eyes roam around the room. He can multitask. He isn’t quite as trusting as Steve. He thinks showing Steve’s weakness and vulnerability is a risky move. Sam doesn’t care that you’re here. It’s the intimacy of your position, and how he is just letting you be.

Steve has fucked many a woman in front of people. Humiliated them, and treated them as nothing more than a way to get his dick wet. But this is care. Steve couldn’t say the word, but it was love. Pulling down your skirt so no one could see any part of your exposed skin.

And then without thinking Steve kisses your cheek. Giving a nod to everyone at the table, and letting them know what their territories are. Sending them on their way, while Sam taps a finger on the table.

“What, Samuel?”

“You’re getting sloppy in love, Steven,” his blue eyes turn up to look at Sam, shaking his head. “Your vulnerability is putting the biggest target on her.”

”I’ll kill anyone that tries to hurt her.”

”Some people don’t just try. Some will do anything to destroy you, and you’ve allowed everyone to see what will kill you. Losing her.”

”Ready a car,” Steve says as he looks up at Sam. “I’m going to take her to see Bucky and Shy,” he looks back at you when you giggle. Swishing your body around when you peek to look at him. “You rotten brat.”

”I like Bucky, Captain,” trying to move again, he holds tightly to your hips, holding you steady.

Sam nods his head, and goes to make sure a car is ready for the two of you. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper as your hands smooth up his chest.

”For what, Dovey? What could you possibly have to thank me for?”

“For letting me go see Bucky. But I’m not the only one that misses him, am I?” Steve rarely admits when he’s wrong. This time he does, but just barely he gives a single nod. “I knew it. You need him. He’s a part of you. Just like me, huh?”

“You are definitely a part of me, my sweet Dove. You mean more to me than you’ll ever realize. And yes, just like Bucky and Sam.”

”Then it’s time for you to accept that they have a special someone. Just. Like. You,” you’re so rotten with your little grin. Tapping on his chest to emphasize every word.

”Yes, darling. You are so smart when it comes to my feelings. I’ll let you handle those from now on,” with a sweet laugh, you lean up to give him a chaste kiss. Getting a bit of a growl from him. “Dovey, you have been keeping me warm for awhile, and to finally feel some friction is making me want to fuck you so hard on this table.”

”Do it then,” rolling his eyes he stands up, letting you drop onto the table with a bit more force than you were expecting, and he pulls himself out of the depths of your body. Hands behind your knees, he lifts your legs, pinning them on the table.

Cocking up an eyebrow, he lets a string of saliva drip down to your entrance, “You really are a slutty brat, did you know?”

“Maybe you need to make me behave. Cap—tain,” you screech as he enters back into you. Slamming your hands above your head, he sets a feral pace. They two of you needy for this. An hour of feeling him was a slight torture, and now he needs you in an animalistic way.

“Dove, I…” he growls, shaking his head. “I fucking love feeling you.”

”And I love feeling you,” he’s such an ass sometimes. Let him have his fun shoving himself into you balls deep. Let him hear the squelching sounds echoing in the room, and the table legs scratching across the floor with every thrust.

“Steve, it’s enough for now,” tears of pleasure fill your eyes as you stare up at him. You’d break him. He is getting there, even if it is slowly. You could feel it from him. And it was enough for now.

Leaning forward he captures your lips with his own. You love feeling his weight on you. Able to feel every bit of him on every inch of your body. He truly is the perfect fit. The two of you soak each other up. Never even pulling apart when euphoria spreads through both of your bodies. Sharing your pleasure as he spurts his cum into you.

Kisses continue, and you’re too wrapped up in each other to notice cold blue eyes stare at the two of you. Steve truly is a fool.

“Stop fidgeting,” Steve says softly, while your eyes stare at the ever passing trees. You couldn’t stop. It had been so long since you saw Bucky. And the last time Steve did, it wasn’t under the best circumstances. “Dove. Dovey! Little bird,” he coos over to you.

You finally look at him, your eyes shining with confusion. “Tell me what’s wrong,” this isn’t a question. It is a command, and you feel overly compelled to tell him everything. All that you have been thinking about during this drive.

“What if she doesn’t like me? What if she hates me? What if Bucky doesn’t want to see me? What if…?”

“What if you just breathe, sweetheart? Bucky likes you, and I don’t think that will change. From my understanding his Shy girl is a bit backwards. She observes more than she reacts. So she might not say much. And if she does, that is just her opinion. What about mine? And I love…spending time with you,” you narrow your eyes at him, and look back out the front windshield. He could be so infuriating at times. You’re hoping that he would just make a mistake, and say it. It seems to be right on the tip of his tongue.

“I want her to like me though. Because Bucky loves her. Even asked her to marry him. Isn’t that something?”

“Yes, so romantic to finally propose after years of being together.”

“Don’t put a timeline on people’s relationship, Steve.”

“Then don’t put one on ours,” his hand moves to your thigh. Giving your soft skin a bit of a squeeze. “Just live in the moment, honey. Ahh, there’s their home.”

“Is it a necessary thing to have your homes be out in the middle of nowhere?” You bite at your lip, looking up at their home. It was bigger than you had expected. Much too big for two people. Even bigger than Steve’s cabin which was nothing to scoff at.

“Shy doesn’t like people. She’s a bit of a recluse. And they built this home together. Designed it for what they wanted out of life, and she has no intentions of leaving. This is their forever home, the cabin is not my forever home. Let’s go, little bird. Stand up straight and smile when the door opens. Don’t make me have to get onto you. Be a brat when it’s the two of us. Do you understand?”

You do. With a sweet smile, you reach for the door, but Steve clears his throat, opening his, and your hands fall to your lap. Watching as he jogs to your side of the door. You can’t help but to beam up at him when he opens your door, extending his arm down for you to take.

He keeps a firm grip on your waist as he walks up to the house. Knocking on the door, his hand goes to your chin, and he lifts your face to look up. Despising when you don’t exude confidence. And then the door opens to the cutest woman, and your eyes fall to her stomach.

“Oh my god! You’re having a baby!” Steve looks over at you confused, and your hands reach forward before retreating. “Can I?” She giggles, but nods her head yes, and you press your hands against her belly. “How far along are you? Steve! I felt the baby.”

“We’re twenty-seven weeks. Bucky and Alpine are spoiling me rotten.”

“Alpine?” Shy points down to her leg, and you see the fluffy cat circling her body. Squatting down you hold a hand out to her, and she leans into you without hesitation. “Are you protecting your mama and baby during this time? Making biscuits on your baby’s home? I bet you are the best kitty in the entire world, huh, pretty girl?”

“Steve, you’re drooling,” Bucky whispers to his friend. “You look different, buddy. Must be…well, Dove is making a good man out of you. Grab her up, let’s come inside, or we can go to the backyard. Shy has almost got it perfect. She’s got her an English garden look out there. Something she’s always wanted since she was a kid. The Secret Garden is her favorite.”

Steve pulls at your arm, and you stand up. Giving a big smile to your former guard. “Come on, Dove, Shy won’t bite if you give me a hug. I’d be more worried about your idiot boyfriend,” giggling, you jump into his arms. Squeezing around his neck so tight, you worry he can’t breathe.

“I missed you, too, ya heathen. Come on, I think all four of us need to talk,” and you did. Lots of talk. So much time was missed. And you knew that there was a part of this relationship that would never be the same. Bucky had three things right here that meant more to him than his own life. He wasn’t risking his life to save yours and Steve’s anymore. The only risks he would be taking would be to keep him alive to see his family one more day.

While you might not ever be Shy’s favorite, you can see her curiosity towards you is real. She keeps her eyes on you, but smiles since her cat is so familiar with you. Alpine bounces between walking in front of you to walking in front of her. Ultimately choosing her family. It’s as it should be. Bucky is doing the same. And with a look up at Steve, you understood. You understood all too well.

Next

Masterlist

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