#i better see Steve on this list

[meri-meri-mwah]

I'm noticing a trend with certain male characters in Resident Evil remakes...

From low-key douchebags...

To loveable housewives. 💕

[eufezco]

BUCKY'S SECOND FIRST TIME

bucky x fem!reader (smut with plot) no use of y/n

All of this... Bucky hadn't had time to think about when it would happen again, he didn't even think it would ever happen again. He didn't even think deserve to have that kind of intimacy with anyone, didn't think that anyone would want to be in that situation with him.

It's been decades and now his head was full of bizarre thoughts. He had nightmares every time he tried to get some sleep, so the idea of spending the night with somebody was completely out of the table. He was witnessing a complete stranger take over his friend's shield and identity. He had not crossed a name off his list of amends for weeks, he had not answered any of Sam's messages and his psychologist was putting more and more pressure on him.

But in all that chaos there was you who always showed him a kind smile, who always asked him how his day was when you saw him come into the bar, exhausted. You who had his favorite drink ready before he arrived and who looked at him with hearty eyes. You thought you were being too obvious but it had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way that he didn't even notice it.

The day he took Sam to your bar was when he realized, and not even on his own. You were thrilled that he finally introduced you to one of his friends (his only friend in fact) and Sam was so funny and he was always picking on Bucky which made their dynamic even more fun to watch. They arrived almost at closing time so it was just the three of you. That night you ended up closing two hours later, inviting them for a few beers and being walked home by the two of them since it was already very late at night.

—Dude, she's so into you —. Sam huffed a laugh while they walked back from your house.

Bucky arched his eyebrows in surprise and then frowned. —What?

—Oh come on, you gonna tell me you haven't noticed?

Bucky was getting more and more confused. —Noticed what?

Sam stopped on his feet and looked at Bucky in surprise. —Steve told me you used to be a heartthrob back in the day.

—Yeah, back in the day. When I was seventy years younger.

Sam rolled his eyes. —Two things. First, as much as I hate to admit it, you don't look a hundred and seven, and second, I can assure you that this girl is head over heels for you. —Bucky was silent, thinking, so Sam spoke again. —Ask her on a date.

So yes, he asked you out on a date. Well, if inviting you to his house for a drink could be considered a date. He didn't like to be seen in public places too much and fancy restaurants didn't go with him, so while he thought of something better for the second date, his house would work for this time. Bucky shook his head as he found himself thinking about a second date.

Bucky always tried to keep everything tidy, clutter annoyed him and made him even grumpier. But now as he let you walk into his house first he realized how empty it was. He barely had any furniture, only one chair, a small sofa, and a TV. He hadn't even bothered to buy a bed because he slept on the floor. He wondered what was going through your head when you saw his home.

—This is nice —. You stated. At first, you didn't realize how empty his apartment was, you were just appreciating that he had trusted you enough to take you to a place as private and intimate as his home. Then you did notice that some things were missing but you assumed that's all he needed.

Bucky was relieved when he heard those three words come out of your mouth.

You noticed how he kept his jacket and gloves on while he took out two glasses to pour you a drink. Whenever he came home the first thing he did was to take those two things off but with you there, it was different yet when he thought about it, he realized that it was fair that you knew and ran away if you wanted to. So when he caught you looking curious, he first got rid of his gloves, and you could already see the metallic fingers of his hand. Then he took off his jacket, revealing how the metal shaped his left arm.

—You're not going to ask about it? —Bucky thought he was getting ahead of you, saving you from the awkward moment of asking about what happened to him. He poured some liquor in the glasses.

—Do you want to be asked about it?

Bucky looked at you and shook his head. You nodded, understanding his decission. You figured he wouldn't want to talk about it, much less on a first date. Your question caught him off guard yet his answer came almost automatically. He didn't want to talk about it and it was the first time he had been given the option of not doing so.

The rest of the night went great. Bucky was very interested in everything you said. He didn't talk much yet you managed to get some information about him. He had a sister, his favorite fruit was plums, he enjoyed 40s music, and he was a cat person. Every time he told you something about himself, no matter how irrelevant it seemed, you found it fascinating.

You noticed that he was very observant, his icy blue eyes never stopped looking at you for a second. You found it cute, intimidating at times not knowing what thoughts went with those long, intense stares. His eyes were beautiful, captivating, so you could tell every time he broke eye contact to divert his gaze to your lips and then back to your eyes.

Each was on one side of his kitchen island, that way you could look at each other's faces while talking. You were leaning more and more on the table that separated you, taking advantage of the moments of laughter to get closer to each other until that way you kissed him.

At first, you felt him a little stiff even though the sigh that he had let out when you had finally kissed his lips told you otherwise. You parted ways. —Is this okay?

Bucky nodded and immediately after, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours again. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone that he didn't know if his lip movements were being too clumsy, if the clash of his teeth with yours was bothering you, or if his tongue slipping past your lips was okay. He did not know how to control his breathing that's why he let out little moans against your mouth, trying to catch his breath without having to leave your lips.

He felt like a teenager again. The tingling sensation in his lower abdomen made him want to run away and hide but at the same time did not want to part from your lips for anything in the world. He was afraid of the way you made him feel but at the same time he didn't want that feeling to ever go away.

Didn't know how or when but he ended up sitting on his couch with you on his lap. Your lips and his had come into perfect synchrony and the kiss was getting deeper and wetter. Oh God and he wasn't gonna complain. Your hands were pulling from the root of his hair, your hips rolled subtly against his crotch, his right hand was resting on your hips. Bucky felt how his jeans tightened right where you were sitting.

Bucky tried to keep his left arm away from you, holding your body on top of his just using his right one. He was aware that the touch of the metal was not the most pleasant in the world. It wasn't soft, it wasn't warm, it was nothing like a flesh-and-blood hand.

—It's okay. You can touch me, James —. You moaned against his mouth. Yet he was still a bit reluctant to do so.

In the end, you would have to be the one to gently grab his metal arm and guide his hand to your waist. You kept your hand on top of his metal one while pressing down so he could hold you as tight as he was doing with his other hand, also to assure him that it was okay. You moved your hand from him once you felt his metallic fingers carefully close and grip your body. You smiled in the middle of the kiss, the firm grip of both of his hands encouraged you to grind harder against his crotch.

You pulled his t-shirt over his head and allowed your fingers to travel down his abs until you reached the button and zipper on his jeans. Bucky hissed at the sudden contact and held your hips tighter.

—Wait —. Bucky said against your lips. He pulled away and you were afraid that you had done something wrong. All you had to do was pull down the zipper, but your hands immediately stopped what they were doing when he spoke. You ran your tongue over your lower lip, already missing Bucky's, and you noticed how pink and swollen his were. —It's been a long time since I —. He confessed.

—Oh. —You said in a sigh. —We can't stop if you—

—No. I just— I just wanted you to know. —Bucky groaned. —I'm sorry. I've ruined it. —He let his head fall on your shoulder.

You giggled and you brought your hands to his cheeks so that he would raise his head and look at you. —It's okay, James. You've not ruined anything. I'm glad you've told me. —You gave a quick peck to his lips. —I was just saying that if you want to stop or need to slow down I'm okay with that.

—I don't want to stop.

—Good. Me neither.

And Bucky crashed his lips against yours again. You finished what you started and unzipped his jeans while he pulled from the hem of your shirt and threw it away. Bucky cursed and brought his mouth to the skin of your breasts, using his lips to suck and kiss on it and his teeth for small bites. You moaned and pulled harder from his hair, making him groan. His hands wasted no time and right after they were unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans while his mouth left a trail of kisses from your boobs to your neck and collarbone until he reached your mouth again.

Your lifted your hips from his lap so your hand could sneak inside his underwear. Bucky did the same with your panties. Your fingers wrapped around his hard dick and Bucky's found their way to your clit. You moaned and closed your eyes shut when he started rubbing your bundle of nerves and Bucky's lips parted and let out all the air that he had in his lungs when your hand moved painfully slow from the tip of his cock to the base of it.

You pressed your foreheads together. Your thighs closed around his hand but he continued drawing circles on your clit and his mouth reached for your lips again. Bucky's hips thrust into your fist while some of his moans died in your mouth. He felt a wave of heat running through his body and that sweet knot formed in his lower belly.

—I need you inside, please —You whined.

You didn't have to beg anymore. You moved from his lap so you both could get rid of your jeans and underwear. You straddled him again, using your hands on his shoulders for stability when your fingers brushed the scarred skin that connected with the metal of his arm.

You noticed the worried expression on his face. He was looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for a reaction from you. A reaction of disgust. He could feel his chest rise and fall slowly because of his deep breathing and he was wondering what was going on in your head at the time.

You pressed your lips against his one more time, your hands moved to cup both of his cheeks. —It's okay. Just focus on me —. You mumbled into his mouth and he hummed in response.

Without stopping kissing him, your hands began to travel down. First his neck, then his broad shoulders, feeling again those scars he was so insecure about, and then his arms. His right one was strong, with perfectly defined muscles and the softest skin. His left one was cold and hard, not at all unpleasant to the touch. Your lips moving on his kept Bucky from overthinking.

He gasped when you reached his well-defined abdomen. You would have spent the whole night caressing and feeling his body under your fingertips but you were getting impatient. Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock to line it up at your entrance and gently lowered yourself. Bucky's mouth opened in a perfect "O" form as he gripped your waist tightly. You had to wait a few seconds to get used to the sensation before you started moving, he needed those seconds as well to get used to your tight walls squeezing him.

You started by rolling your hips against his, it was the best way to adjust to his size. Despite how wet you were you could feel that sweet sting caused by his width. You rested your forehead against his, you both were panting when you began to lift your hips and drop them back onto his cock. The sounds that came out of his mouth were music to your ears, the grunts coming directly from his chest made you vibrate.

You hugged him to feel him even closer. Bucky tried to hold on as hard as he could, he kissed your shoulder and softly sank his teeth into your skin there, getting a whine from you, but it was too much. Every time he felt his dick going fully inside you, the knot on his stomach became tighter, every time he heard you moaning his name in his ear he did his best to last a little bit longer but in the end, he found it impossible.

Bucky emptied himself inside you while he dropped his forehead on your shoulder and apologized for coming so quickly. —Don't worry. We have all night —. You played with the hair on the back of his head and allowed him to come back from his high.

And you spent the whole night until you heard the birds chirping. The stamina he had thanks to the super soldier serum was truly something else and he made it up to you until you felt completely disconnected from your own body and Bucky had to snuggle you next to him on the couch to let you sleep.

Bucky didn't sleep that night. He was afraid that if he did, he'd hurt you or scare you with his nightmares so he stayed awake all night, but he didn't mind either. He had his right arm around you and he held you against his body, your head was on his chest as well as one of your hands. He felt the warmth of your naked body against his under the blanket.

[lovebugism]

I love your writing <3 I saw “he so likes her” on the enemies to lovers but I so saw it pairing with the “me? I wouldn’t say I was flirting.” On the denial of feelings list. Eddie absolutely oblivious to the heart eyes he’s making as he pulls his hair in front of his face while chatting together

ty angel! hope you like it :D — eddie munson visits you at work every day, but not because he likes you (enemies to lovers-ish, fluff, 1.1k)

You hear Eddie before you see him. The clinking of his silver rings, the swishing of his leather jacket, the thudding of his worn sneakers. His musky cologne swaddles you in a cloud of his subtle scent before he’s even there. You’re smiling about it all before you mean to.

Crouched in the X-rated section of Family Video, you restock the vulgar printed tapes and glance up at the boy towering over you. Eddie’s smiling, too — perhaps bigger than he realizes.

“Don’t tell me you came all this way to keep me company, Munson,” you tease with narrowed eyes.

“No,” the boy scoffs, a little less than convincing. He props his shoulder against the metal shelf and crosses his arms over his chest. “I have much better things to do with my Friday nights. Trust me.”

Your knees creak in protest when you rise to stand before him. You cross your arms to resemble his stance and try to be normal about your forearms brushing his. “Do you?” you lilt, obviously sarcastic.

“Yeah,” he nods with a crooked smile on his pretty pink mouth. “I could give you their names.”

“Spare me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and spinning on your heel. Eddie follows you like a lost puppy to the front counter. “You know, if you’re gonna flirt with me, maybe try not to mention other girls. I think that’s, like, rule number one.”

Eddie’s face swirls at your words. The cartoonish look of confusion makes you smile as you round the checkout station. He forces a chuckle and props his elbows on the countertop, leaning over it in a desperate attempt to be closer to you.

“There are no—” he starts, then cuts himself off. There are no other girls, he’d say if he weren’t a total coward. But, for the sake of keeping his cards to his chest, he settles on, “—I’m not flirting with you.”

Your brow arches in a playful look of inquiry. “No?”

Eddie almost caves, then. It’s almost like you want him to say yes — to admit that he’s been flirting with you this whole time because he’s loved you since the moment he met you. It would be the truth, anyway. One that he’s spent over a year shying from.

“No,” he echoes and shakes his wild head, surprising himself with his own self-control. “No, I’m— We’re just— We’re having a conversation. ‘Cause, you know, we’re friends. I guess.”

His face scrunches like there’s something sour on his tongue. He doesn’t even like the taste of his own words. 

You squint. “Do all of your friendly conversations typically include making heart eyes at the other person?” you joke with a poorly held-back grin.

Eddie falters for a moment, knowing he’s long been found out. He decides to lie anyway. Dig the hole deeper, as it were. “Yeah, actually,” he nods. “You’ve seen the way I look at Steve, haven’t you?”

You laugh before you mean to. The sunshine sound sputters up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. Eddie must not realize how he often looks at Steve The Hair Harrington — with softly squinted eyes and gently furrowed brows — like he can never quite understand what the fuck the boy is talking about. 

“Right,” you nod, still giggling.

Eddie smiles at the pretty sound. The spearmint breath of your laughter fans across his cheek at the close proximity — one which neither of you seems eager to part from. “Yeah, so… Don’t let it go to your head, alright? There’s no flirting here.”

So you drove twenty minutes across town in a half-broken-down van to have a serious conversation? you’d ask if you felt like going around in circles.

Instead, you just nod. “Noted...”

“Now, tell me,” he starts, tilting his pretty head until his curls bunch at his shoulder. “What should me and my number of escapades watch for the evening? You know, as the resident expert and all?”

You laugh at the absurdity of his question. “I don’t know. Just— choose something,” you murmur unenthusiastically.

“I want you to choose for me,” he pouts.

“Why?” you retort, leaning against the counter to lessen the cavernous distance. 

The sudden closeness has a very obvious effect on the boy across from you. His adam’s apple bobs as his tongue darts across his bottom lip. You’re close enough to kiss now. He can almost taste you.

“So you can play it as background noise and think of me while you and this very fictitious person make out on your couch?”

“Well… I’ll probably be thinking about you either way, so…” Eddie answers when his senses return to him, shrugging with a stupid, lopsided grin. “Whether you recommend something or not doesn’t really matter.”

The look he gives you makes your stomach whirl. His eyes, made of melted chocolate, get all squishy at the edges when he looks at you. Something warm and fond swims in his gaze, speckles along his flushed cheeks, and sparkles in his smile. It’s so stupidly sincere for a boy who can’t seem to take anything seriously. The notion all but stabs you in the chest.

“You’re doing it again, you know?” you tease.

His fluffy brows pinch together. “Doing what?”

“The heart eyes thing.”

“There is no thing!” he insists with a loud, boyish laugh. “I’m just— I’m just looking at you! Is that a crime?”

“Just sayin’,” you singsong with an absentminded shrug.

Your gaze glimmers with knowing and something close to adoration as it flits up and down his form. Eddie squirms beneath your prying eyes. His ringed hands rise to his hair, gathering the untamed curls and hiding his blushing face behind them. 

“Here,” he mumbles behind his palms and chestnut locks. “Is this better for you?”

You giggle at his antics, slightly grieving his pretty face. “Much,” you nod despite yourself.

Steve and Robin watch the strange encounter from afar. They peer over the Action/Adventure aisle they’re supposed to be restocking — equal parts distracted and nosey. The boy’s scruffy face twists as he watches Eddie try hopelessly to flirt with you. “This is disgusting,” he murmurs under his breath.

“Do you think he knows?” Robin laughs, deep and gritty, as she stands on the tips of her toes to see over the metal shelf.

“Knows what?”

“That he’s obsessed with her?”

“Hell no! Look at him—” Steve scoffs, jutting his chin to the wild-haired boy across the room. 

Eddie’s got his rings all tangled in his hair now. His cheeks glow red as you help unknot the silver jewelry from his curls. He’s visibly embarrassed, but he can’t stop beaming at you. It’s borderline gag-worthy.

“—He’s got no fucking clue.”

[sp0o0kylights]

Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting. 

It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read. 

He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover. 

They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word. 

(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.) 

Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school. 

Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington. 

Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college. 

Steve knows Eddie’s gay. 

Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.

He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real. 

It's flash. Showmanship. 

It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him. 

So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?

 Eddie panics. 

His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him. 

He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him. 

Not when it comes to running, anyway. 

Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor. 

The urge is still there. 

To run, and save face the cowards way. 

Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again. 

(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)

A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway. 

One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…

Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has  bat-like, vicious animals on it. 

Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with! 

Steve looks up from the zine and startles. 

For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard. 

It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie. 

He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest,  and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.

“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is. 

They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.  

“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?” 

Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands. 

“Oh!”

Steve holds it up, as if to show it off. 

“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.” 

Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting. 

“You know what Star Trek is?”

“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?” 

 He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.

 “This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”

Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension. 

He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it. 

Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?

Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine. 

“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.” 

He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is. 

“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks. 

“Mmm.” 

“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…” 

Steve's frowning at him again. “What?” 

“It's queer man. It's really queer.” 

Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows. 

“I know. Wait, how do you--” 

And well. It’s now or never. 

“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.

“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?

(It does not.)

“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.” 

Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.

Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in. 

Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--) 

There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.

 It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air.  Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again. 

They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.

This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name. 

‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’  but--

Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face. 

Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened. 

He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief. 

Steve looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!” 

“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope. 

He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right. 

Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope. 

“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!” 

“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.

Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face. 

“So...Kirk and Spock huh?” 

“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table. 

The zine he keeps in his hands. 

Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?” 

“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!” 

Which is news to Eddie. 

“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart. 

Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction. 

“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,” 

Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s  that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?” 

“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!” 

“You did! Robin told you!” 

“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”  

“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”  

“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.” 

They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.) 

“You really like it though?”  Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand. 

“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke. 

“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?” 

Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip. 

“That’d be cool.” 

(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?” 

“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.” 

“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.” 

“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.” 

“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.

Oh.

Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day. 

At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.) 

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Secrets That Bite Back |

18+ MINORS DNI

For the longest time America’s star spangled Captain, or as you know him as Steve, has kept a little secret. A secret he thinks he guards well yet the rest of the Avengers seem to know already. Biting the bullet he decides to share this information with you but you have a secret of your own who isn’t too pleased about it.

✧Pairing✧ Bucky Barnes x Agent!Reader

✧Warnings✧ Feelings, Oblivious Reader, Mention of Wet Dreams, Mention of Oral (M), Mentions of PinV, Attempted Confessions, Jealousy, Like real bad, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism (to be safe), Multiple Hard Orgasms, Fingering, Oral (F), Degredation?, [Names: Babydoll, Baby, Bunny], Marking, Unprotected PinV, Dirty Talk, Possesive Behaviour/Words, Creampie, A lil Aftercare (Very brief), Poor Stevie, I feel so bad — If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so i can add it.

✧Word Count✧ 1.5K

✧Author Note✧ This entire thing was sprouted from a little drabble I made a few months back that I was going to post but thought I could make something better out of it. Well its been a bit since then but here we are. I’m happy about how this has turned out considering i’ve been hating everything I make as of recently. I very much bully Steve in this fic, I felt so bad writing it. Anyways I hope you enjoy this please let me know what you think of it.

It was no secret that the face of America had a little crush on you. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to hiding his feelings, often wearing his heart on his sleeve, so at the first twinges of love brewing in the Cap’s gut everyone in the compound already knew. Except for you.

You assumed the kind eyes and lady-killing smile were something he did to everyone; he had a reputation to uphold and that meant being nice to everyone, not just his Avengers colleagues.

“Hey Cap” You smiled gently at the sight of his broad frame entering the briefing room, the first one there beside yourself. You couldn’t see it, the way his stiff shoulders visibly drooped at your honey-tinged voice, the creases in his forehead relaxing until there was no evidence of their existence at all. What was there though was a deep rosy blush as memories of the previous night’s dream filled his brain like a disease, coiling around any basic human function he once had full control over malfunctioning.

He remembers the way those perfect lips kissed his own, down over the thick column of his neck and further, until he lost his mind thanks to your expert mouth sucking gently on the head of his cock. How your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he sunk home above you, uncontrollable sounds escaping you as he took you the way he needed; primal, hard but oh so loving. Steve was down bad for you and it was affecting his professional life with you. He’d either have to get rid of you or confess and in no uncertain terms was he getting rid of such a great agent.

The crushing continued; the Cap had fallen short of his word to confess his feelings and the cycle repeating itself. The dreams, the sight of you walking around the compound in the same uniform everyone else wore yet it somehow looked even better on you, then he was making silly little mistakes.

He had made up his mind, psyching himself up in front of his bathroom mirror. This Friday was Avengers movie night, he knew you were there every week and most of his other friends were out drinking or on their own mission, leaving only you, Steve and Bucky — Bucky wouldn’t show up to the movie night so it was perfect — the pair of you cuddled up on the couch, his lips on yours instead of paying any kind of attention to the three-star rated movie that played.

There you were, sitting so cutely curled up under a thick blanket, your hand already fisting large amounts of popcorn into your mouth, your hair unruly and not a trace of makeup in sight. Steve always thought you looked the prettiest like that. He waited until the movie was well and truly underway, gunfire and explosions booming from the speakers before he made his move.

“Uhm”

You turned to him instantly, wide eyes framed with thick lashes staring up at him, “hm?”

God, you were too cute. You were making this hard on the blonde super soldier. Steve moved cautiously, taking both of your hands in his much larger ones, rough thumbs soothing over your knuckles — trying to calm himself down more than anything else. You watched the bulky man in front of you fight internal emotions threatening to bubble forth, his chest heaving with deep breaths before his eyes pinned on you, blue colour thick with determination.

“I-I don't really know how to start this…” Oh no. “I-uh I think you are amazing, an amazing agent, an amazing friend. You are gorgeous, you have such a beautiful soul that shone over me, from my first day off the ice, the rays from your smile have always made me feel alive. What I’m trying to say and failing is that I—“

Your body stiffened as a hand clapped down on your shoulder, cold and hard, glimmering against the harsh lighting of the screen to your right.

Unfortunately for Steve, you had a secret of your own. That secret watched with possessive eyes as Steve melted like hot butter in your presence, watched as the Captain’s eyes raked down your body when your back was turned — he also watched now as Steve sat a little too close to something that was not his stuttering over his confession. He’d had enough and decided that maybe Steve had to learn his place, even if it meant your little secret got out.

“Bucky” Steve breathed at the sight of his brooding friend, staring up into blue eyes that were stained green at the sight of you two canoodling right in front of him. He wasn’t sure if you were ignorant or completely oblivious to Steve’s feelings.

“Steve” Bucky returned, the coldness like the thin edge of a blade running down the length of your spine. “Do you mind?”

Steve’s hands slipped from your own, disappointment radiating from him. From the feeling of Bucky behind you, rough jeans tenting against your shoulder, you had a feeling Steve was about to feel a lot more than disappointment.

Wordlessly Bucky pulled you up, dragging you through the threshold of the sitting room to the kitchen and into the laundry cupboard. He wouldn’t be able to make it back to his room and he wanted Steve to hear everything.

“S-shit Bucky” you wailed as your second orgasm hits you like a freight train; your juices spilling all over the tinted vibrainum and his stubbled chin, he sucked hard on your puffy clit in response. Your legs shook so violently you were sure they would collapse underneath you if it weren’t for the bruising grip Bucky’s free hand had on your hip, no doubt leaving finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

The thought to keep quiet had long since run from you, even before your first orgasm. The threat of Bucky not stopping until you couldn’t leave his room, his bed, and he’d have his way with you while you were helpless had long since clouded your mind of any decency. Filthy moans spewed out your bitten lips, a mixture of pleas and Bucky’s name filling the tiny closet.

“Mm, what is it babydoll? Can’t handle it huh? Maybe you shouldn’t have been such an oblivious little bunny, letting poor Steve confess his feelings to you when you got me. This is what you get and you’re going to take it aren’t you?” Bucky growled, dirty words spilling down the sweaty skin of your neck, over the dark love bites he’d placed there earlier.

The super soldier stood, flipping you easily and capturing your lips in his own before you could even catch a breath, his tongue delving into your mouth a second later allowing you to taste your essence on him. His fingers made quick work of his belt and jeans, pushing them to the floor along with his briefs, a harsh sign vibrating against your mouth at the cold air against his raging red tip.

Your body jerked when his thick length slapped over your oversensitive clit, your gasp clipped into a softer moan when he circled only to slap it again before pushing deeper through your sopping folds.

“Who’s got you like this hm?” He whispered teasingly, his free hand finding its home around your throat, giving you a little squeeze. He didn't wait for a response before canting his hips, a dark smile gracing his lust-contorted face when he caught onto the dip of your whole. His groan complimented your shrill cry as he sunk home, giving you no time to adjust before taking you roughly. His thrusts felt so familair yet so foreign at the same time, hard unorgiving thrusts so unlike Bucky’s nature yet your body leered, loving the treatment because it knew the man responsible.

“Answer me, baby, tell the world, tell your precious little Stevie who’s fucking you. So. Fucking. Good.”

“You Bucky” the last of your dignity thrown out of a window as you sobbed out his name like a prayer, a mantra for all to hear. “Only you.”

Your third orgasm took you by surprise, no warning, no buildup. Like a star in supernova, it exploded, your vision going white and your body stiff — you couldn’t even make a sound.

“Fuck Bucky!!”

“That’s fucking right, only me, I’m the only one for you baby. You’re mines - fuck so good” he moaned loudly; pushing through your impossibly tight walls until his fat tip kissed your cervix oh so sweetly, hot spend spilling out over the end of your cunt and filling up your walls until there was no more room for it to go — the excess spilt out down the brunette’s twitching balls.

You didn't react as he bundled you up into his arms, stripping you of your shirt and throwing the clothes into the wash. You didn't feel when he moved both of your naked bodies from the tiny room out into the open, down the hall to his room. You were asleep as he cleaned you thoroughly, whispering how much he loved you against your temple.

Steve sat where you had left him, a haunted look on his face as he replayed teach and every sound you made over and over in his head. The moans he only dreamed of hearing while he made you feel so good but the name on your tongue wasn’t his and it never would be — Bucky had gotten to you first and bent you to his will, you were his. His cock twitched humiliatingly in his sweatpants.

Sigh, should I give poor Stevie his own Reader?

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Thank you for reading~

[myspacebrat]

౨ৎ 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐮

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: steddie x only fans reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriends wake you up with something better than cake.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, mdni 18+, fem reader, food play, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink if you squint, this is reader centered so no mlm action.

𝐚/𝐧: ITS MY BIRTHDAY, BUT THIS BLURB IS MY GIFT TO YOU.

masterlist

The sun rays beam through your curtains, making you groan and stretch before burrowing your head into your fluffy duvet. You’re not ready to face the day yet, although it is your birthday. But if the empty spaces beside you are anything to go by, then your boyfriends are probably downstairs preparing something special for you.

Just as you suspected, loud pots clank together along with Steves barely audible shushing, making you giggle as you continue snuggling into your warm, comfy bed.

Before you realize you’ve even shut your eyes and began to drift off, footsteps and whispered chatter has your eyes reopening and a small yawn leaving your mouth as you turn toward the door to see what’s going on.

It opens slowly before your boyfriends come sauntering inside, twin smirks on their pretty faces.

“Good morning, Birthday girl.” Eddie says with a teasing glint in his brown eyes.

“Good morning, baby.” Your other boyfriend utters with a sweet and charming smile, but you quickly notice the aprons adorning their bodies and as far as you can tell, they’re both naked underneath.

“Good morning, what’s going on?” You rasp, as your eyes flint back and forth between them.

“We made something…um, something way better than breakfast in bed.” The long haired boy says, with a smile that tells you he’s up to no good.

You sit up quickly, curious about what they’re up to, by the look on both of their faces you knew you were gonna have fun, you always did with them.

“Better than breakfast in bed? Well whatever could that be?” The sarcasm in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by them, and they’ll definitely be adding it to the list of punishments they’re going to dish out later for your birthday spankings.

Both boys slowly untie their respective aprons, letting them pool at their feet. Your mouth instantly waters, holy fuck!

“Yeah I would say this is better than breakfast in bed, ya brat.” Steve retorts.

“Mhm, yeah I would agree.” You say absentmindedly as you take them in, they’re both stood there naked from head to toe, but their dicks…well their dicks are covered in frosting and multicolored sprinkles. It’s fucking hot, and your thighs clench together as your eyes stay laser focused. Did you mention their cocks are rock hard? You have no other choice but to slide out of bed and fall to your knees, ready to feast on the best birthday cake you’d ever received.

“Look at her, such a good girl. We don’t even have to give her directions.” Steve says proudly.

“She’s always so hungry for cock, that’s why.” Eddie’s smile ticks up on one side as he looks down at you, that devious glint back in his eyes before he starts moving his hips and shaking his butter cream frosting cock in your face. You take it as a demand and begin licking, from base to tip as the sweet pink frosting collects on your tongue, your taste buds going crazy from your first meal of the day.

“Mmm, that’s my good birthday slut. Clean daddy off.” He groans as he shakes his long hair out of his face, not wanting to miss the show.

You continue with your kitten licks, cleaning his entire rip off before taking him into your mouth.

“There ya go, baby.” Steve whispers into your ear making your eyes open, you realize he’s now kneeling beside you, eyes intent on your lips that are wrapped around your shared boyfriend’s cock.

He gathers your hair into a ponytail before he’s pushing your head further down, eddies tip hitting the back of your throat as you swallow around him. You’ve always found pleasure in giving oral sex but with the boys, it was so much more than that, there pleasure was your pleasure and you’d do anything to hear those gasps and groans fall from their lips.

The same ones that are falling from his pink plush lips right now, every time he hit the back of your throat and you swallowed. They got louder and louder until he was pulling you off with an animalistic snarl.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me fucking come, princess. Jesus. You trying to suck my soul from my body?” He playfully questions, as he looks down at you with complete admiration.

“Big boys turn.” He demands, before Steve stands up and steps right beside him.

You crawl an inch or two over, eyes never leaving Steve’s as you give him an innocent smile, before you move in. Tongue gliding along the underside of his cock, you swirl it around his tip and your head dizzies at the combination of the sweet frosting and his precum together, a delicious mixture.

You glide your tongue lower, lower before reaching his big saggy balls that are also covered in the frosting. You rub your face on them getting pink frosting around your mouth and nose but you don’t care, you’re way too horny to give a damn about anything right now. You suck and lick on his sack dipping each into your mouth until they’re fully cleaned of any remnants of the dessert.

“Fuck yes, love that slutty little mouth of yours. Need to fuck your throat baby, please?” He whines before you decide to give him mercy by wrapping your lips around his base, gliding up until you reach his tip and without warning you’re taking him into your mouth and down your throat, you bob your head as spit gathers and falls with every punch his throbbing tip gives to your uvula. You love having your mouth full like this, being used and filled is one of the best gifts you could ask for.

“That’s it!” Steve groans, as his cock throbs in your mouth.

“Damn, you coming already?” Eddie chuckles, making Steve grunt out a “fuck you.” to the long haired boy.

You look up at Steve with watery eyes, silently begging for his cum and you’re so elated when you see that moment of awareness cross his face, he lets out a gasping moan before he empties down your throat and its even tastier than the frosting. You moan and lick your lips savoring his flavor in your mouth.

“My turn.” Eddie grunts before fisting your hair and bringing you back to his weeping cock that still has traces of pink frosting and sprinkles. You lap at him until all that is left is his angry red tip and throbbing purple veins. “Open your mouth and take me down that throat like a good girl.”

With no warning he thrusts into your mouth, making your eyes water and your tongue tingle as saliva builds up. The noises are obscene and wet, making you clench your thighs in desperation.

“That’s our good little slut.” Steve murmurs from behind you.

Eddie has his hand in your hair, controlling the bobbing of your head as he fucks your throat with hard thrusts of his hips.

“Oh fuck, open your mouth birthday girl, swallow your present.” He groans as his thighs shake, his warm cum spilling on your tongue not long after. You swallow without hesitation, licking your lips as you look up at him.

You sit there for a bit, catching your breath after that brutal throat fuck, before looking at both boys and offering a sweet smile. “Thank you for my present.” You rasp softly, making both boys look at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

“Oh that was just the beginning, baby.”

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part six

602 words

one two three four five

Steve is a horrible artist. “I suck.” He slumps in his seat. 

Carol places her paintbrush into the cup of water between them and leans over to see his paper. “...Nooo this is good,” she says, but Steve can clearly see the way her mouth twists as if she’s holding in a laugh. It’s a great show of restraint for her. He’s actually kinda impressed.

Steve pushes her away gently and turns his easel so she can’t see anymore. She cackles. 

Steve huffs and studies his painting. It was supposed to be a dog but looks more like a frankly unsettling misshapen creature. He shivers and paints over the things creepy ass eyes that were previously staring into his soul.  

“Aw. I liked it better before.” 

Steve jumps, dropping his brush - that was loaded with black paint - into his lap. He’s never been happier that their art teacher makes them wear aprons - these are his favorite jeans. He puts the brush in the water cup. 

The voice snickers and Steve finally turns, heart racing. He already knows who it is before he meets the big brown eyes. Eddie has sat to his left since the beginning of this semester (which is also when Steve began to develop this little obsession but who’s counting). 

He didn’t take into account that turning his painting away from Carol would put it right into Eddie’s line of sight. 

Steve raises a brow. “You’re joking, right?”

Eddie grins and drops his chair back to the ground as opposed to balancing on the back two legs. He turns his easel enough that Steve can see his painting. It’s just as, if not more, disturbing than his little dog creature thing. Steve’s not quite sure what it is, but it looks slimy.

“Dude, gross,” Steve says, but he’s smiling. 

That night, Tommy gets into an argument with Carol and calls Steve to complain about it. She wanted to know why all he ever wants to do is hook up and honestly, Steve was kinda wondering the same thing. 

All Tommy wants to talk about these days is them hooking up or asking Steve if he’s hooking up with anyone (don’t be a prude, man, tell me what happened) no matter how many times Steve tells him he’s just focusing on school right now. 

A lie, he’s focused alright, but it sure as hell isn’t on school.

He didn’t tell Tommy any of that, though. Instead, he offered up his house for the weekend. Tommy’s always in a better mood when he has a party to look forward to. The boy had immediately perked up. 

Steve's kinda regretting it the next day, but he made his bed.

Eddie i like seeing you, it makes my day the disappearing act was real cute almost made me lose my damn mind, man, point taken do you got anything good planned for the weekend? i heard there’s a party  maybe i’ll see you there, with your new job and all p.s. have fun at your campaign (i learned what it’s called!)  -H 

Steve slips his sunglasses on during his walk to the cafeteria, and no it’s not just because he wants to stare freely at Eddie - he has a headache. Looking at Eddie is just a perk. 

He’s wearing a white shirt again. Steve has the freedom to look so much that his gaze strays to the other people at Eddie’s table and notices that they’re all wearing matching white shirts with the same print on the front. They printed matching shirts for their nerd club. 

Steve is gonna die.

seven (just realized I forgot to add this link for a whole day😭 sorry y'all)

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sorry if i missed anyone!!

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Part Seven

“Hey Buddy, you got dressed.”

“Dessed,” Eddie plucks at the sleeve of the pullover, then rubs his arms, copying what Steve did to show what he meant by cold, Eddie even does a fair approximation of Steve's, ‘brrrrrr,’ sound. “Good?

Steve can see from here that the inside of his closet is a disaster; Eddie must have pulled things down while he was hunting for something to wear. Steve figures he can fix it later.

“Yeah, really good. Come on, lets make a grocery list.”

“Go-ser-eee list?”

“Yeah, all the things you like.”

Eddie follows Steve carefully down the stairs, and Steve is pretty sure he can say good bye to the sweater the second Eddie goes outside; at the very least the bottom part will be dragged along the floor everywhere Eddie goes.

Eddie pulls himself onto a seat at the breakfast nook while Steve gets a pad and a pen, “right. What would you like?”

Eddie leans forward so he can see better as Steve writes – Steve’s already listing stuff like milk and bread and coffee and cereal. “Celery. Cucumber. Peas. Apple. Grape. Pear. Many pear,” he’s watching closely, waiting while Steve writes out each word after Eddie says them.

Eddie leans an arm over the table, pointing at where Steve has just written, ‘pear’, “many,” he insists, “many pear.”

Steve crosses out ‘pear’ and writes ‘many pear’ instead, “that okay?” Steve’s sure Eddie can't read what hes writing, but he does understand the concept of ‘many pear’ being two words and not one, which means he’s grasping this whole thing really, really fast.

“Paper,” Eddie adds.

“Okay, got it. More paper.”

“Okay. Stee go out?”

“Yeah, I need to go to work, and I’ll bring the groceries home with me.”

“Go-ser-ee in work?”

“No...I have to go to work to earn money to buy groceries,” Eddie stares at Steve blankly, “wait here.” Steve comes back with his wallet, and fishes out a few dollar bills and puts them on the table, “So I go to work, and earn money,” Steve slides the dollars closer.

Eddie touches the corner of one of the notes, “one.”

“That’s right Buddy, that’s the number one. This is a one dollar bill.”

“One dollar bill.” Eddie repeats dutifully.

“So I take this,” Steve points to the bill, “to the store, and I can get an apple.”

Eddie frowns at the money, “one dollar bill in work Stee...one dollar bill in store...Stee apple?”

“Yeah, yeah buddy.”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie in work? Eddidie one dollar bill pear.”

Steve snorts a laugh at the thought of Eddie in a Family Video vest, probably shouting, ‘no,’ and, ‘bad,’ at customers who put the tapes back wrong. Steve’s pretty sure the general public could break even Eddie’s spirit.

“No buddy, you have to stay here, where it’s safe.”

“Safe,” Eddie points in the vague direction of down the hall; Steve understands what he means, Steve does the same thing to illustrate to Eddie that he’s going out, “not safe?”

“That’s right.”

“Stee not safe?” Eddie cocks his head, frowning spectacularly.

“Oh boy,” Steve sighs to himself. “Okay. Okay Buddy, out,” Steve points, “safe for me, not safe for you.”

“Why?”

And oh Steve is really starting to loath the ‘why?’

“Because...you’re different buddy,” Steve sticks a leg out and points to it, then points to Eddie’s tail where the end is curled on the floor.

Eddie frowns, but doesn’t push it any further.

Eddie’s inside when Steve gets home, and Steve’s kind of glad, it’s definitely chillier now than it was a couple of weeks ago. Eddie might have his tent, but Steve has no idea what kind of temperatures are tolerable for Eddie; he must be pretty fucking sturdy to live in the Upside Down, but still. Steve has no clue if Eddie’s just mimicking him, because Steve has told Eddie it’s cold. He doesn’t even know if Eddie feels temperature like a human. Still, he probably wouldn't be voluntarily wearing the sweater if it was making him too warm.

Eddie’s laid out on the lounge floor, his book open, surrounded by colored pencils. It looks like he’s making an attempt at drawing some sort of tree, surrounded by grass and sky. It’s not terrible; Steve can even tell pretty much what it’s supposed to be, at least.

Steve's got to tell Dustin that Eddie can definitely see color just fine.

“Hey Buddy, you want to help put your things away?”

“Eddidie help,” Eddie follows Steve into the kitchen, “idge door. Idge. Cold in idge. Pear in. Grape in. Celery in.” Eddie chatters the whole time he unpacks the paper grocery bag, narrating everything he’s doing. He eats a pear when he’s done.

“I got you more notebooks, too.”

“Paper?”

“Yeah Buddy, as much as you want.”

Steve dumps a can of spaghetti into a pot on the stove, then turns as he hears a loud scraping noise; Eddie pushing a chair across the kitchen.

“Hang on,” Steve gets it for him, moving it to the side of the stove. Eddie climbs up, sitting on his tail to make himself tall enough to watch Steve making toast and grating cheese.

“You want to try?” Steve offers the wooden spoon to Eddie.

Eddie frowns at it, “warm?”

“Many warm. Hot. Here,” Steve blows on the spoon for a moment.

Eddie leans forward and licks it. Eddie pulls an assessing face, and then finally volunteers, “good bad.”

“Yeah. I get you buddy.”

Eddie turns on the TV when they go into the lounge, Steve sits on the couch to eat, “I think the kids are coming over tomorrow. They’re coming over to watch movies.” Eddie tilts his head, “TV. The kids are coming to watch TV.”

“Max. El. Dust bin. Lu-cas. Mike. Will.”

“You got it buddy, the kids.”

“Kids. Mongrels.”

Steve laughs so hard his toast nearly slides off his plate.

Mike shoves a bag in Steve’s hands as he passes him in the doorway, “Nancy told me to bring this over for Eddie. It’s all Holly’s old stuff.”

Steve looks inside the bag and finds a couple of kids coloring books; neither of them used at all. A handwriting book, the kind where you trace the letters and numbers before doing it yourself. A very basic math book, probably for really little kids, but on the first page is a picture of four plus four, represented with two groups of four apples. Steve’s confident Eddie will like that. There’s a couple of other things, and Steve’s sure it’ll all be useful. It’s actually a great idea. One of the books has pictures of clocks, and the digital time; Steve really should teach Eddie to tell the time. Maybe he could get him a little battery clock for his tent.

“Thanks Mike.”

“Yeah whatever,” Mike grumbles, already making popcorn and generally just helping himself to Steve’s shit.

Steve sits in the middle of the couch, El to one side of him, deliberately keeping an empty space on the other. All the other kids are sprawled out on the floor, eating red vines and dipping into bowls of popcorn. Eddie’s watching from the kitchen doorway; he’s clearly still uncertain about the kids.

They’re all lying quiet though, engrossed in the film. It’s probably half way through when Eddie finally risks it; Steve pats the couch cushion to encourage Eddie up next to him. Eddie does.

Usually he sits like a person, the end of his tail laid on the floor like feet would be, but tonight he pulls it up and curls it under him, all protected.

El leans forward, whispering over Steve, “hi Eddie.”

Eddie nods, volunteers back an uncertain, “hi El,” and then promptly hides his face in Steve’s shoulder.

As Steve suspected, the front six inches of the yellow pull over are worn and filthy, marred with grass stains.

Steve leaves him there for a little while, and waits until curiosity gets the better of Eddie. Steve offers him some popcorn; it’s buttered and salty, and Steve’s a solid ninety percent sure Eddie won’t like it. He’s right. He watches Eddie chew with his mouth open, a look of absolute disgust on his face, for a solid thirty seconds before Eddie finally swallows.

Steve leaves El with the popcorn and goes and gets them a beer to share, it’s the least he can do.

Eddie’s interest in the film seems to waver, depending on what grabs his attention the most. He seems to be watching the kids for...well. Eddie probably thinks of them as loud and erratic; it wouldn’t surprise Steve if Eddie had interpreted them as danger. Even if Eddie’s getting braver, that feeling clearly hasn’t gone all the way away just yet.

Steve feels him twitch, on high alert, every time one of the kids shifts.

Steve offers him a red vine; Eddie sniffs it but crinkles his nose up in disgust.

They decide to put on another movie; when all the kids get up to forage and grab drinks and go for toilet breaks, Steve thinks for a moment that Eddie might make a break for it. He sinks down further into the couch cushions instead; pressing close to Steve.

He doesn’t leave though, and the kids, mercifully, practically ignore Eddie. Lucas says ‘hi’, and Eddie answers, which Steve takes as a massive win.

One of the kids drops something in the sink; it clatters loudly, Eddie sitting up straight, whole body on high alert and turned towards the doorway, one arm flung back protectively over Steve's chest.

“It’s alright buddy, don’t worry. It’s just the kids. They’re noisy sometimes,” Eddie does lower himself again at that, and when he finally looks at Steve, Steve offers his hand. Eddie takes it. The webbing stops their fingers linking together all the way, but the contact has the desired effect and seems to reassure Eddie that there’s no danger, and he’s more relaxed by the time all the kids come back in.

They start the next movie, Eddie nestled right up against Steve, their joined hands resting on his thigh.

Part Nine

[traveler-at-heart]

Lessons of Love

Summary: So, Nerd!Natasha and Fem!R, their first date and everything fluffy. I just have a lot of thoughts about them and maybe this will be a series (and it will eventually contain G!P Natasha so if that's not your thing, you've been warned). Nerd!Natasha x Fem!Rogers Reader

Don’t count the days, make the days count.

Natasha’s father had told her that as if it was ancient wisdom and not a fortune cookie message.

It was also easier to say it when you didn’t have to attend high school. There were days when she couldn’t cope with it, like when the football team was agitated before a match, or there was some drama around the most popular people in school.

Those times were a stark reminder that Natasha had no one to talk to, a confidant to mock the jocks or a friend to share the gossip with.

Genius comes with a cost.

That one was her mom’s way of comforting Natasha.

She was the smartest person in school, miles above her peers. What she didn’t have in social intelligence, she more than made up with a sharp, quick and brilliant mind.

But as she entered the chem lab, and took a seat at the last table where she was always alone, Natasha wished that things could be different.

If only for a day.

“Morning, everyone” professor Fury greeted as people went to their seats. “You might have heard about an explosion during class” the few giggles that were heard were quickly silenced by Fury’s glare. “So, to keep this from happening again, we’ll switch the teams for the rest of the semester”

Natasha’s heart raced. What if people could choose and then she’d end up front of the class, everyone staring because no one picked her?

“So, alphabetically” Fury read the list, Natasha going over the name that was before hers…

Rogers.

She looked at you, sitting next to Wanda on one of the first tables. You waved at the twins when their names were called, laughing at Wanda’s annoyed stare. Being paired with her brother meant she’d do most of the work while he fooled around.

“Rogers and Romanoff”

Natasha saw you gathering your things and looking around. When you found her, a smile broke out and you walked to join her in the back of the room.

How does one greet the most popular girl in school? Head of cheerleaders, little sister of legendary quarterback Steve Rogers, not to mention the most beautiful girl in all of Shield High.

Not that Natasha was paying attention.

“Hey, Natty” you greeted, sitting next to her and looking around. “Wow, you can really see everything from here”

“I-I guess”

Natasha wanted to crawl under the table and hide. What was she supposed to talk about?

“Guess it’s my lucky day” you said, unable to deal with the silence. Natasha had a hard time understanding if you were being sarcastic. “I mean, you’re the capitan of the Science Club. So, that makes you the best partner anyone could hope for in Chemistry”

Natasha didn’t have time to answer, as Fury finally started with the lesson. Once he gave you all the instructions and wrote some exercises on the board, everyone went silent. Of course, Natasha was done in half the time.

“Show off” you teased and felt your heart beating faster when Natasha actually laughed.

“Want help?” she offered and you went over your notes, nodding.

“I think I got most of them except… this one?” you pointed with your pencil. Natasha leaned, reading again and pulling her chair closer to yours.

“You see, when you choose a coefficient, try to select one as low as possible”

“And that would affect all of the atoms in the molecule” you said and Natasha nodded. “Ok, I think I got it”

But the redhead kept staring as you began to write again, and you poked her side.

“Stop it, Romanoff”

You went back to work, missing the way Natasha blushed at the physical contact.

“Good. Now, I want you to get to know each other even better, so you’ll do a project for next class. Do not sass me, youths” Fury raised his voice as everyone began to protest.

“We’ve known each other our whole lives, can we skip this one?” Pietro said while pointing to his sister, and everyone laughed.

“No” Fury said, turning to write on the board again. “Do some research on why it’s important to balance chemical equations and what other parts of chemistry rely on this skill. Bonus points for concrete examples where it helped advance important research on other fields”

He dismissed the class, and everyone began to pack their bags to move to the next session.

“So… uh… how do you wanna do this? Wanna meet somewhere?” Natasha said, unfamiliar with team projects. Teachers would let her work alone, because pairing her with someone meant she’d do all the work and split the credit.

“Yeah, not my place though. The boys have their weekly pool game after football practice and they can get so loud” you rolled your eyes, walking out of the classroom next to the girl.

Natasha’s stomach turned at the idea of being anywhere near the school jocks.

“So, the school library?” you offered, giving her a way out in case her house was off limits.

“I think my mom has more books about it than the library”

Damn it, where did that come from? She couldn’t handle a class with you and now she was suggesting her place? Where would you even work? And Melina would make some embarrassing remark, or Alexei would ask a million questions and say something silly…

“Yeah, cool. I’ll stop by after cheerleading practice”

“Let me give you the address”

“Natty, I know where you live” you chuckled, surprised that she seemed surprised. “Remember your birthday party? I was there”

“That was like seven years ago”

“Yeah, so? I remember” you smiled. “Gotta run, see you later”

Natasha stared as you walked to History class. You turned around one last time, smiling shyly and waving at her.

Natasha waved back, her cheeks turning red at being caught staring.

Crap, she wasn’t going to survive this assignment.

—

You went up the steps, fixing your hair before ringing the doorbell.

God, how were you going to manage this afternoon with Natasha? You were barely able to keep it together during class.

You were still torn on how to manage your fight or flight response when the door opened.

“Y/N!” Natasha’s sister practically shouted your name.

“Hey, Yelena. I’m here to…”

“You know my name” the girl said.

“Well, yeah, you’re Nat’s sister”

Speak of the devil.

“Yelena!” Natasha went down the stairs in record time.

“What?” Yelena said, talking back as soon as Natasha switched to Russian. They went back and forth for a while, and you stood outside, wondering if you’d ever manage to get in.

“Sorry about that” Nat finally turned to you, Yelena leaving the room in a rush.

“No worries. I couldn’t understand you. Literally”

“My room’s this way” Natasha said, scratching the back of her neck.

A second later, she regretted letting you go up the stairs first. Your skirt moved with each step you took, toned legs in full display. Natasha had to pray she wouldn’t trip on the way up.

“Which door?” you turned to look at her, her ears red. You bit your lip, trying not to think how adorable she looked all flustered.

“The one on the right” she pointed and you nodded, waiting for her to tell you it was ok to open it.

“Wow” you said, looking around at the shelves full of books and scale models of different machines.

“You can take the chair if you want” Natasha offered her desk, and you were so busy reading the titles of the books you almost didn’t hear her.

“Oh, that’s ok. I can sit on the bed” you said, placing your backpack in the corner. You pulled out your laptop and opened a new tab. “I was thinking we can get all the info we need, and then decide how to organize it. I’ll write a draft and you can review it”

It was Natasha’s turn to be distracted, appreciating the way you leaned against her headboard, stretching your arms above your head.

“I-I got some books from my mom’s study.  Let me find the right one…” she sat on the floor and you laid on your stomach, your heads at the same height as you looked over her shoulder.

Natasha began reading and taking notes, while you reviewed some articles on your laptop.

“Ready”

“Ok” you said, changing to sit next to her on the floor. Natasha felt your shoulder against her arm, and your sweet parfume invaded her senses.

You always smelled good. And looked so pretty. It was hard to focus but she managed just enough to dictate some of the things she’d found useful.

“You don’t have to write this down, but let me know if you think any of it is interesting for the paper” she said, and you really wanted to pay attention, but your eyes kept drifting to her lips. “Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, I’m boring you” Natasha said, closing the book and looking dejected. She was about to put it away when you reached for her hand, sitting up.

“Now hold on. You weren’t boring me”

“It’s ok”

“Nat, look at me” you asked. The redhead seemed to forget you had moved closer when you reached for her hand, and when she turned to look at you, you were inches apart.

“I…”

Was she looking at your lips? Were you leaning forward? Did she want this?

You didn’t have time to find out, as the door to Natasha’s room opened and you jumped back.

“Oh! Yelena was telling the truth”

“Hi, Mrs. Romanoff” you greeted, hoping she didn’t notice your cheeks turning pink.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you. Why are you sitting on the floor? Natalia, where are your manners?”

“Mom”

“No, that’s ok. I prefer the floor. Your hydrengias are looking spectacular, by the way” you tried to change the subject.

“Thanks to you! You were right about the change of place. Oh, I should have sent you a plate of cookies, you helped me with it and I didn’t even thank you”

“That’s ok, Mrs. Romanoff”

“Well if you want to stay for dinner, you’re more than welcomed” Melina turned to her daughter, with a more serious demeanor. “And you, remember to put those books right where they belong. I have a very particular system”

“Yes, Ma’am” 

“So…”

“I…”

You both spoke at the same time. 

“Sorry” you tried to breathe, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “You were saying?”

“I didn’t know you spoke to my mom about flowers?”

“Oh, that” you blushed and Natasha bit her lip, drinking in every word you said. “Yeah, Mom and I ran into her at the farmer’s market. They were talking about plants and we gave her some tips. That’s how we spend quality time, working on the garden”

Natasha nodded, but you still stared at her.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, looking at her lips. Natasha swallowed and nodded. “I… uh… why was Yelena acting weird when she saw me?”

That’s not what you meant to ask, but you had lost your courage.

“Oh…” the redhead looked disappointed. Or were you imagining things? “She’s obsessed with joining the cheerleading squad, and you being the President…”

“I’m not, anymore” you blurted out, surprising even yourself. “I mean, I’m still on the team… but I thought Pepper would do a better job” 

“But they won the Nationals last year because of you” Natasha protested, and you were taken aback by her sudden rage. “There’s no one better than you”

“That’s really sweet, Nat” you placed your hand on hers. “But it’s for the best. Trust me. I’ll have more time to focus on the school paper or… I don’t know, dating?”

“I guess you could do that…” Natasha said, looking at your hands. For the second time in the day, your eyes found hers and then traveled to those beautiful lips.

“Y/N!” 

Bucky shouted from the door. Damn it.

“My ride’s here” you said, disappointed. Natasha nodded, standing up and offering her hand to help you up. You took it, surprised at her strength. 

A gasp left your lips when you were face to face, inches away from her lips. All you had to do was step forward and stand on your toes…

“Y/N/N” Bucky insisted and you had to control the urge to tell him to go to hell.

“Sorry. I have enough notes to write something. Can I text you once it’s done?”

“Sure, let me give you my number”

“I already have it…” you blurted out, trying to hide your face.

“How?”

Now, this time you were grateful for Bucky’s insistence. 

“Coming, Buck! See you later?” 

“Yeah. I’ll walk you out” 

You nodded, allowing Natasha to lead you to the front door. Her father, coach Romanoff, was chatting with Bucky at the door.

“Good practice today” Alexei said and Bucky nodded.

“Thanks, coach” he then turned to you, offering his hand to get your bag. “Ready to go, doll?”

“Yeah. Thanks for having me, Nat. Say bye to your mom and Yelena for me?” 

“Sure”

An uncomfortable feeling took over Natasha as you walked next to Bucky, watching him take your bag and carry it for you. You laughed at something he said while he opened the car door for you and then drove away.

“They make a cute couple, don’t they?” Alexei said, but Natasha shrugged her shoulders and went back to her room, almost knocking Melina over on the way up the stairs. “Did I say something wrong?”

—

Natasha felt weird doing it, but she couldn’t help herself. 

She only opened an Instagram account to watch cool science videos. But she knew your username because Yelena followed you and now, she was acting like a creep, looking at your profile.

In search of what? She wasn’t sure. Maybe proof that you were dating Barnes.

“Hey” Yelena walked into her room and Natasha dropped her phone. “Ew, were you watching porn?”

“What? No! What do you want?” Natasha said, the blush in her cheeks only making her seem guilty.

“Well, just wanted to ask you if Y/N mentioned anything about this year’s tryouts?”

“No, we didn’t really talk about… that��

Natasha didn’t mention the conversation you had about stepping down as president. She had a feeling that was private.

“Ok, go back to watching porn” Yelena said, closing the door before Natasha could throw a pillow her way.

Then, her phone pinged and Natasha looked at it as if it was a cursed object. 

Unknown number: Hey, Nat. I have a draft ready. Lmk if I can send it to you

Natasha: Hi. Sure thing, I’m not doing anything

Damn it, way to be a loser, Natasha. 

She didn’t even wait a few minutes to reply.

Y/N: Ok, should be on your email now.

Natasha: Thnx, reading now.

Y/N: Gotta get ready for dinner. It was nice seeing you today.

Y/N: Outside of school, I mean.

Y/N: So… yeah. Anyway. I’m being weird, haha. Talk soon. 

Y/N: XO

Natasha’s heartbeat sped up with every new text. She caught herself reading them over and over again.

She didn’t have time to worry about what to reply, because her mother came knocking.

“Dinner’s ready. You can take your time… Yelena told me you were busy.”

“Oh, my GOD!” Natasha jumped out of bed, opening the door. “I am not… watching porn!”

“She said you were stalking Y/N’s instagram” Melina said, turning to find her youngest daughter holding a laugh.

“сука” Natasha screamed, running after her.

“Papa, help!” Yelena screeched, going down the stairs. 

“Language! And no running inside the house!” 

Melina sighed. With the way Natasha was looking at you today, she had a feeling that parenting was going to be even more complicated now.

--

Throughout the week, you never left Natasha’s mind. It was a strange feeling. She’d never dwelled on social interactions that much, thinking it wasn’t worth her time. 

But still, when Friday came, she was excited because you shared English class as well. 

And there you were, leaning against the door, speaking to Barnes. Again. Natasha sighed, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in her stomach at the way you laughed with him, smacking his arm playfully.

As usual, the redhead kept her head down and went to the last table of the classroom, where she could be left alone. Only, you walked straight to her as soon as Professor Harkness started the lesson.

“Hey” you greeted, sitting next to Natasha. 

“H-hi”

“Sorry, do you want me to find another place to sit?” you said, looking around the room. 

“No!” Natasha practically shouted, making you flinch. “I’m sorry. No, you can sit here”

You nodded, occupying the chair next to hers. It was going to be a slow day, as Ms. Harkness set up the projector to show a documentary about Patricia Highsmith. 

“You have to write a report about this so pay attention” the professor said, taking a seat to start the film.

While the documentary played, your mind kept drifting back to Natasha, sitting a few inches away from you. Truth be told, you had always found her to be beautiful, intriguing… but after spending an afternoon with her, those moments when you touched hands or locked eyes, kept replaying in your head. 

Instead of taking notes, you decided to execute a plan that was saved for the next Chemistry lesson. Drawing on a sheet of paper, you created a game of hangman, double checking the number of letters for each of the three words. 

Without looking at Natasha, you pushed the sheet her way. She looked at it for a second too long, and then at you. You were beginning to regret the whole thing, and then she underlined the letter T. You smiled, writing on the designated place.

Natasha took her time analyzing the sheet, but by the time the lesson was over, she had guessed some of the letters.

_o_i_   o_   _ _ tur _ _ y ?

The bell rang, and as the lights were turned back on, you looked at her, smiling nervously. 

“So… want me to tell you what it says? Or, you can take the sheet and text me if you figure it out?” 

God, you sounded so desperate. No wonder Natasha looked at you as if you had grown a second head. 

“I’ll take it” she smiled, placing it between her notebook and walking out.

“Actually, Nat…” you went after her. Why not just ask straight away and see what happened?

“Yes?” she said, turning to look at you. Truth be told, she was anxious to get out. Your proximity had distracted her during the entire class. And it only got worse when you slid that sheet her way, and she saw the way you were biting your lip nervously.

She had to force herself to look away from your lips. 

“I was thinking, if you’re not too busy…”

“Go on a date with me”

You were both taken aback by the interruption. The words were stolen right out of your mouth by a junior student, Peter Parker. He was staring at Natasha excitedly. 

“Never mind” you grumbled, rolling your eyes and walking away. 

Natasha flashed an angry glare at Peter, but you were walking down the hallway at record speed.

“What is wrong with you?” Natasha said. Peter was a year younger, but knew the redhead from science club. 

“Sorry, it’s just that I… those were the words that came out of my mouth to ask MJ out. MJ! And she said yes!”

“Yeah, start with that next time” 

Natasha spotted you across the hall, talking to Thor. Of course. 

“I have to go” Natasha pushed the boy aside.

She was so distracted, she never noticed where she was going until she opened the door to the computer room, where Barnes was making out with another senior, Sharon Carter. 

“Knock, damn it” Barnes said, but Sharon smacked his arm, looking stern.

“Don’t be a dick, James”

Natasha wanted to call Barnes a lot more than a dick, because who on their right mind would cheat on you? She stared at him a second longer, too angry to even speak, and then turned around, shutting the door behind her. 

You deserved so much better than Barnes. 

—

Y/N: Were you able to figure it out?

Natasha kept staring at her phone. She hadn’t replied to your message since yesterday and the longer she waited, the worse she felt.

Should she tell you about Barnes? Would you believe her? Or would you call her the worst name in the book and refuse to be in the same class as her? 

The girl was pacing around in her room, but of course Yelena chose that moment to play her music at full volume. Natasha let out an exasperated sigh, going to her sister’s room.

“Turn it down!” she yelled from outside, knocking several times to get Yelena’s attention. “Yelena? Your music is too damn…” let the record show she had tried to knock. Natasha walked into Yelena’s room without permission, ready to get into a screaming match with her sister. What she didn’t expect was to see you sitting on her bed, while Yelena showed you different things on her closet.

“I told you it was very loud, Yel” you said, smiling at the girl and then at Natasha, who took a step forward to shut the music down. “Hey, sorry about the noise”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to come in, sestra” Yelena said, examining a t-shirt and her favorite vest. She turned to you. “What about this?” 

“Yeah, that’s better. And hair braided, don’t forget that. Pepper and all the other girls love braids. I think the ones Natasha wears sometimes are really… uh, pretty”

You didn’t mean to sound like a creep, but of course you had noticed Natasha’s fiery hair braided from time to time. 

“So, since you’re standing there and made me turn off my music” Yelena turned to her sister, showing the outfit. “What do you think? Tryouts are on Monday and Y/N is helping me pick an outfit”

“That one’s nice” Natasha nodded, trying to avoid your stare. She thought she had today and tomorrow to figure out what to do over Barnes. But what if you came to talk to her and she just blurted the whole thing out?

So, she excused herself and thought it would be better to hide in her room. Peace didn’t last long, though.

“Knock!” Natasha grumbled when her sister got in. 

“Hey, you didn’t knock either just now. I wanted to ask if you got the tickets for the movie”

“Yes, of course I did”

“Good. I can’t go with you, so you should take Y/N”

“Wait, what?” Natasha hissed, trying to not lose it at Yelena’s ridiculous antics. “You can’t just cancel like that and she probably doesn’t even want to…”

“Ask her” 

“What?”

“Ask her. Or if you’re too afraid, I can do it for you. But honestly, Natalia. Just do it. You’re both driving me crazy”

Natasha didn’t know what Yelena meant by that, so she just rolled her eyes and sighed.

“I’ll ask her, I don’t want it to seem like my little sister has to arrange my outings”

“Fine. I’m getting some water, you should do it now. Don’t pass out” Yelena winked, knowing her sister could barely handle social interactions.

 Natasha felt her heartbeat strong in her chest, but didn’t wait too long before going back to Yelena’s room. She knew her sister meant it and would absolutely ask you out on Nat’s behalf.

“Hey, Y/N” she walked into the room, door ajar.

“Hey. What’s up? Want to try on outfits with us?” you joked. In spite of her nerves, Natasha smiled.

“I wanted to ask if you wanna go to the movies”

“Really?” you smiled. “What time?”

“It starts in an hour so… we can leave in thirty minutes if it works for you”

“Yeah. Awesome”

You didn’t think about asking which movie or anything else really. The fact Natasha had asked you was all you cared about. The redhead left the room once her sister came back, trying to hide her anxiety. Yelena gave her a knowing look, and kept chatting with you but wasn’t surprised to find you smiling out of nowhere, distracted and constantly checking your watch.

Once it was time to go, Natasha waited downstairs to drive you both to the movies. The ride there was quiet at first, until you reached out for the radio.

“Very cool” you praised when OK Go came on. “Their best music video is for I won’t let you down”

“What? No way! This too shall pass. That Rube Goldberg machine was insane”

“But what about all the extras and the umbrellas? Imagine the coordination it took. I tried to talk the girls into doing it for Nationals but they said I was insane”

Natasha laughed at that, humming along to the song, feeling more relaxed. You also smiled, and enjoyed watching her drive. She looked hot as she held the wheel. 

As you were arriving to the theater, you mentioned Barnes and how he always forgot to get the tickets and once again, Natasha’s anxiety came back. 

She was quiet as she parked and you both exited the car. 

“Wait. I’m sorry. I can’t do this” 

“Do what? What’s wrong?” you looked at her, searching her eyes. 

“Please don’t hate me” she pleaded.

“Natty, I could never” you shook your head, the term of endearment almost leaving Nat out of breath. 

“I saw… Barnes and Sharon Carter kissing in the computer room. I’m sorry”

“Ew. Yeah, they tend to do that anywhere they can. I’m the one who’s sorry you had to see it” you laughed, but the sound died down when Natasha looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

“Aren’t you dating Barnes?” she said, trying to understand everything.

“What? Gross. He’s like my other brother. Slightly less annoying than Steve, that’s for sure” 

“You’re serious?” Natasha said, feeling as if a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“I’m very serious and very much single… waiting for a pretty girl to come sweep me off my feet” you said, smiling as Natasha blushed. You took her hand, going inside the theater. “Come on, the movie is starting soon”

You waited in line for the candy store, her hand still in yours. Once it was time to get your stuff, you stood behind her, looking over her shoulder by standing on your toes. Natasha blushed at the contact, your chin resting against her shoulder while you asked the clerk for some chocolate.

“Let me” Natasha said, paying before you could give the man money. 

“Chivalry isn’t dead” you said, enjoying how much she was blushing. You smiled, helping her with the soda and finally going inside the room. 

“So, what are we watching?”

“It’s this new zombie movie, like found footage”

“Oh, cool” you muttered, feeling the palms of your hands get sweaty. 

“Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you were ok with that”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just a bit of a chicken” you laughed, settling in your seat. You hoped Natasha didn’t think you were lame and as the movie started, you really did try to be brave. And then a zombie came jumping through a window and you hid your face behind your hands. 

“Hey, it’s ok” Natasha took your hand. “We can leave if you want to” 

“No, I’m fine” you said, forgetting about the movie as soon as her hand let go of yours, arm going around your shoulders to comfort you. 

No way were you leaving now.

You leaned against her chest, hiding when something scary was about to happen. Natasha held you close, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing manner. 

Who knew all it took was some scary zombies to get close to her…

The movie didn’t last as long as you’d have liked, but still, you were happy when she kept holding on to your hand as you left the cinema.

“That was fun” you commented and Natasha let out a laugh. “What?”

“You were hiding half the movie”

“Maybe I liked that part the most” you challenged, pleased when she blushed again. “But next time, we’re watching a rom com or a sci-fi movie.”

“I’d like that” Natasha said and you were looking at her lips when your phone rang. “Want a ride home?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“It’s not a problem. Come on” she walked next to you, opening the car door. 

“What else do you listen to?” you played with the radio, going from A-Punk, to Keane and Travis. “Really good taste”

“What about you?”

“Anything really. I have like 45 playlists that are completely random. I could send you one if you’d like” 

“Yeah, I’d like that” Natasha nodded. You smiled, enjoying the view (and by view you meant Natasha, her fingers tapping against the wheel) for the rest of the ride. 

Once you got home, she opened the car door for you again. You didn’t move from your spot next to her, enjoying the proximity.

“Nat?”

“Yes?”

“I like you” you said without a warning, and it was hard to tell who was more embarrassed, you or Nat. “I’m sorry for being so forward but I think I needed you to know. I’m thinking about kissing you and holding your hand and…”

For the first time in her life, Natasha did something without thinking. She pulled you by the waist, connecting her lips to yours. You groaned in surprise, but sighed against her mouth a second later. Your hands went up her neck, to keep her close to you as you moved your lips against hers.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”

“Never apologize for doing that” you smiled, leaning your forehead against her shoulder. Natasha smiled, kissing your temple. “Are you good to drive?”

“Yeah” she nodded.

“Ok. I don’t want you to do it if you’re distracted or something. It could be dangerous, you know?” you rambled and Natasha saw genuine concern behind your words.

“I’ll text you when I’m home, how about that?”

“Yes, please” you sighed with relief. “Be careful. And thank you for today” without being able to help yourself, you stood on your toes and pecked her lips one more time.

Natasha got in the car, smiling as she drove back home. True to her promise, she texted you as soon as she arrived. 

She was expecting Yelena to greet her with a million questions, but the girl was back in her room, still listening to music.

Going back to her own room, she found the game of hangman you had done for her, now complete with Yelena’s handwriting.

Natasha was really clueless.

Movie on Saturday?

This whole time, you were asking her out. Natasha took a picture of the paper and sent it to her sister.

Nat: You went through my stuff.

Sestra: Ur welcome.

Natasha would never hear the end of it. Her phone pinged again.

Y/N: Glad you’re home safe. 

Y/N: Still thinking about that kiss.

Y/N: So… yeah. When’s our second date?

Coming to think of it, she was happy to pay that price. 

[steddie-island]

Risky Business

Written for @steddie-week day 2 | Prompt: Hands Rating: M | WC: 2,027 | Tags: Pre-Steddie, season 2, shotgunning, dry humping, coming in pants, cheating (if you squint) Find full list of tags on ao3 | Divider credit

“Watch it, Harrington!”

Steve didn't even turn around to see who was yelling at him. He needed to get the fuck out of there.

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

The words reverberated in his head, echoed in the empty hollow of his chest where his heart used to be.

"Like we're in love?"

It was too fucking much. There were monsters, and Barb was dead, and Nancy wasn't in love with him, and—

“Harrington!”

“What!” Steve spun around and came face to face with one Eddie Munson. He definitely didn't need this shit right now, either, whatever Eddie was trying to do.

“Jesus, who pissed in your cheerios?” Eddie held his hand out, where Steve's keyring dangled from one finger. “I was giving these back, but if that's how it's gonna be.”

Steve swiped for them, but Eddie already had them folded back into the palm of his hand and was walking towards the house again.

“Just— hand them over.” Steve tried to make another grab for them, but Eddie was too fast, the shithead. “Munson, I'm in a really bad goddamn mood, okay?”

Eddie lifted his free hand to his head, rubbed at the back of his neck. “How much have you had to drink?”

Steve blinked at him. “I'm fine to drive.”

“That's not an answer, big boy, and I'm afraid it would be against the Munson code to let you do something stupid like that.” Steve swiped for his keys again, but then Eddie was turning, rearing his arm back— and Steve watched as his keys went flying.

“What the fuck !” Steve wanted to shove him, wanted to wipe the stupid smile right off of his stupid fucking face.

“I'll help you find them later,” Eddie said. “C'mon, man. You're clearly not in any shape to drive. Let me take you home.”

Steve wanted to say no. He wanted to kick and scream and argue but how the fuck else was he supposed to get home now? Just the thought of sticking around long enough to see Jonathan pour Nancy into his car made his stomach twist.

He could walk, but he was so tired . It washed over him all at once, and Steve's entire body sort of slumped. “Fine. You're paying if we don't find them, though.”

Eddie looked surprised, like he hadn't expected Steve to give in so fast. Still he bowed, gestured ahead of them. “Right this way, sir.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Steve shook his head, bringing his cheek to rest against the window. “Not really.”

”Okay.” Eddie reached over and turned the radio on. The music was heavier than what Steve usually listened to, but that actually helped get him out of his head. There was going to be a breakdown, and a big one, but he needed it to not happen here, in Eddie Munson's van.

Eddie fidgeted. Steve could tell he wanted to talk, to say somthing, anything , to get rid of the silence between them.

“Does... Wheeler have a way to get home?”

Steve wished Eddie would've kept his big mouth shut.

“She's fine,” he said flatly. Emotionless. He couldn't think about Nancy, about bullshit, bullshit, bullshit .

“Shit— hey, I'm sorry, man.” Eddie was really fidgeting now, and— fuck.

Steve wiped away traitorous tears and cleared the lump out of his throat. “I'm fine,” he said, snappier than he meant to. It wasn't Eddie's fault he was losing his cool.

“Clearly. Totally fine,” Eddie said, nodding. He seemed to think about it, fingers drumming against his steering wheel again— did he ever sit still? Then they were turning away from Steve's house, towards the edge of town.

“C'mon, man, I'm fine, just—”

“Trust me,” Eddie said. His eyes flicked over to Steve again. “This is better than going home.“

Steve had been to Lover's Lake before, but never in the back of Eddie Munson's van. They'd parked, and Eddie had lit up a preroll. Whatever was in it, Steve wasn't feeling any pain anymore.

They were floating together, weightless in the back of the van on the pile of blankets Eddie had spread out for them. Steve's hair hung away from his face as he watched the way the night sky reflected in the water.

There were no dead girls here, no alternate universes with monsters ready to rip them to shreds.

There wasn't a bat driven through with nails that looked rusty with old monster blood rotting away in his trunk.

There were just stars, and the music pouring softly through the speakers now. And Eddie, warm and sturdy by his side, with their pinkies barely touching.

"Fuckin' love this song," Eddie said. Steve didn't recognize it, though the thrum of the guitar made his already fuzzy brain vibrate pleasantly.

"Think you've said that about every song we've listened to," Steve murmured. His tongue was heavy and thick in his mouth. He reached for the joint, giggled when his fingers didn't want to work and he nearly dropped it.

"Lemme help you." Eddie rolled over, pressed the butt of if it to Steve's lips. His fingers were dry and warm. Steve's eyes nearly crossed as he tried to watch those fingertips. He was so distracted he almost forgot to actually inhale.

"Never woulda taken King Steve for a lightweight," Eddie teased. His voice was giggly, too, as he leaned back, brought the joint to his own mouth and took a long pull.

Steve couldn't stop watching his fingers, the glint of the light on his rings as he lifted a hand to tuck his hair behind his ear.

"You still with me?" Eddie asked. He lightly bumped his foot against Steve's and gave him a teasing smile.

"Yeah, 'm with you," Steve said. He reached up to touch one of Eddie's rings without really thinking about it. "You have nice hands." His fingers were long, slender. Musician's hands, complete with callouses that Steve had the odd desire to get his lips on.

Maybe the bitten nails weren't a musician thing, just an Eddie thing, but that didn't change the fact that Steve kind of wanted to kiss those fingertips.

"Yeah? You like, big boy?" Normally Eddie wouldn't have risked flirting with the straight jock high off his ass in the back of the van but Harrington didn't feel like a threat. He waved his hand lazily and watched Steve's gaze follow along like there was a slight delay between what Eddie was doing and Steve brain processing it.

"Yeah." Steve reached up to catch Eddie's wrist, to stop him from moving his hand around. "I do." He trailed his fingertips over Eddie's palm then outlined one finger at a time.

If anyone had told Eddie that morning that he would end the day holding hands with a stoned Steve Harrington at Lover's Lake he would've laughed in their face and asked if they needed a ride to the hospital. Here he was, though, with the ex king threading their fingers together, pressing palm flush against palm.

A shaky breath slipped out of Steve's chest. He pulled their hands closer so he could run his fingers over Eddie's rings, then up along his knuckles.

Eddie watched Steve with heavy lidded eyes. They were just holding hands— at least, he thought this weird thing Steve was doing where he followed the lines where their hands touched counted as holding hands— but there was something about it that felt intimate.

Maybe it was the way Steve's lips were parted, and the peek of pink as his tongue wet his lower lip. Maybe it was the way Steve was eyeing their clasped hands like he wanted to fucking bite them.

Or like he was holding Eddie's hand to keep from doing just that.

"Harrington." Eddie nudged Steve with his foot again. "Sure you're with me?"

Those warm eyes met Eddie's again. Steve didn't answer, he just watched Eddie's face in a way that made the other boy feel cut open and exposed. It was a feeling Eddie didn't get often, a feeling he really didn't know how to be comfortable with.

So Eddie did the first thing that came to mind that wasn't just staring right back. He took a hit off of the joint, never taking his eyes off of Steve's. He didn't let the smoke out and instead leaned in to almost press their lips together, and once Steve opened his mouth, he let the smoke pass between them.

Steve made an injured sound. Before Eddie could pull back to check on him a hand was in his hair, and then they were kissing. It was desperate, tongues and teeth meeting and clashing.

"Eddie," Steve panted before tipping his head back so Eddie's mouth could be on his throat instead.

Eddie wanted to mark him. He wanted to bite and suck and leave traces of himself all over this ridiculous jock. He had just enough mind left to not let himself do that, and instead he dragged his tongue over Steve's pulsepoint before giving his earlobe a gentle tug.

"Oh fuck —" Steve pulled him in, licked into Eddie's mouth again and ground against the thigh now settled between his own legs.

There was an urgency in the way Steve's hips moved, in the way he kissed at Eddie's neck before biting down, unafraid to mark the way Eddie had been.

Eddie cursed and rocked down, meeting those hungry little movements. They were going to come together, ruin their clothes together. He should stop it, should remind Steve that he was drunk and there was maybe a girlfriend waiting for him when the sun came up.

Then Steve tugged down the collar of his shirt and those perfect fucking teeth were digging into his collar bone. Eddie cried out at the flash of pain and pleasure as he spilled into his boxers.

Steve anchored a hand into Eddie's hair and pulled him in to kiss him again. His movements picked up, became something more firm against Eddie's thigh.

Eddie was going to remember the sound Steve made as he was coming for the rest of his life.

They settled together on their nest of blankets, with the come drying into the fabric of their clothes and in their pubic hair. Eddie barely dared to breathe, in case Steve decided to kick his ass once he'd come back to himself more. Steve didn't do that, though. Instead he took Eddie's wrist and brought his hand to his mouth, to kiss the underside of each of his three chunky rings before resting Eddie's hand on his chest.

"I should get home."

They cleaned up as much as they could with the napkins fished out of the glovebox. The blankets were left in a pile in the back to be dealt with later.

Steve seemed more calm on the drive back to the Harrington house. Some of the edge Eddie had noticed when they'd first ran into each other seemed to have been smoothed out, whether by the weed or the orgasm or a mix of the two he wasn't sure.

Only once they were parked did Steve remember— "Fuck." He looked up at his house, with all the dark windows staring down at him. "I don't have my keys."

"Actually…" Eddie reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and came up holding Steve's keys.

"You sneaky bastard." Steve took the keys and turned them over as if inspecting that they really were his.

"I really didn't feel like sneaking around Tina's house and having her call the cops on me. Just had to make you think I'd thrown them."

Steve watched Eddie's face in the dashboard light. Tomorrow he would have to talk to Nancy, he knew. It was going to hurt— already his chest ached with what they had to do, what he'd been refusing to accept had been coming for a while now.

But maybe it didn't have to hurt forever. Maybe he didn't have to hurt forever.

"Good night, sneaky bastard." Steve reached over and squeezed Eddie's knee before slipping out of the van.

"Night, Steve," Eddie said. He sat there watching until Steve was safely inside.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Roads Untraveled 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, pregnancy, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Single and pregnant, you discover a super soldier in the dumpster but he might not be hero you think he is. 

[This is a rewrite of a series of the same name which I removed a couple years ago]

Characters: Silverfox!Steve Rogers

Note: I finally did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

‘When he went away  The blues walked in and met me  Oh, yeah if he stays away  Old rocking chair’s gonna get me  All I do is pray...’ 

You sway to the melody as you wipe dry the last plate. You set it in the rack as Etta James’ soulful crooning wafts around the kitchen. Just the simple task of washing the dishes has you out of breath. You can no longer hum along as you’re suddenly light headed with sweat speckled across your brow. Even the breeze drifting in through the open window can’t cool the constant heat brewing within you. 

You brace your lower back as you reach for the dish towel and pop open the cupboard. The music drones to silence as the next some in queue loads. Your rounded stomach presses to the counter as you take a mug and dry it inside and out. Strange, you don’t remember the song starting like that; the strange warbling noise much unlike Marvin Gaye’s rich tones. 

You set the mug on the shelf and back up. Another noise peaks your attention, too tinny to be a snare. You rub your stomach mindlessly as you sling the cloth over your shoulder. You waddle across the tile to the folding table beneath the window. You tap pause on your phone and the bluetooth speaker goes silent. 

Your fingers pick the damp fabric away from your bump. These days you can’t avoid getting soaked. Even as you can’t forget about the burden of your condition, you’re still oblivious to how it gets in the way until it does. You sigh as you listen for another clue. 

A pained deep grunt floats up from below. Distant but decisive, another rustle beneath the unexpected noise. You lean over the table, a hand on the ledge as you push the pane higher. You bend, stomach pressed to the speaker, and peer down. You expect another dumpster diver searching for empties to trade in; rather you meet a most unexpected sight. 

There is a man in the dumpster, alright, but he isn’t moving. From there, you can’t see very clearly. You squint at the figure strewn among the trash but the zigzag of the fire escape obscures your eye line. 

You shouldn’t go and see. Not only is it a lot of effort, but it’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be wandering into alleys to check on strangers in dumpsters. You don’t know any good reason someone might be swimming in garbage. Nor do you think they would want to be bothered.  

Still, the prickling in your neck urges you to do something. There’s just something so peculiar about the angle of the arm you can see clearer than the rest of the body. At least they’re moving, even if they sound agonized. 

You take your phone and untether it from the bluetooth speaker. You unlock it and keep your thumb ready to dial out. You move as quickly as you can, not very, and waddles along the back of the couch into the entry way. You take your keys from the hook near your door and step into your cushy slides. 

You turn back the latch and leave the door unlocked behind you. The slides shift on your swollen feet as you rush down to the elevator. God, your back hurts. You try not to lean too far back as it only adds to the pain. You need a belly belt but they’re so darn expensive. 

You’re out of breath as you step on and turn to watch the numbers count down. You’re still panting as you reach the lobby and push through the front doors, leaning into the heavy grated iron until it creaks loudly. You clamour down the steps to even ground and your hips pang. 

You put your hand under your stomach, trying to lift it and ease the pressure in your hips. You blow out between your lips as you have to slow down. You shuffle across the grass and into the paved lobby. The stink of the trash brings you back to those early days of morning sickness. And afternoon sickness. And night sickness. 

You try not to inhale too deeply as you step between the brick buildings. You bring your phone up, ready to hit those three digits in a heartbeat. You should’ve done so already. Even if you do, it’ll take hours for anyone to come out here. 

You stop and listen a few steps from the dumpster. You don’t hear anything now. You look up at the sky, dimming towards evening in a mixture of pink and blue, the moon peeking palely through the hue. You grip your phone tight, keys jangling with your movement as you continue forward. 

“Hello?” You call out, “is someone in there?” You linger near the corner of the dumpster, the trash reeking in your nostrils, “do you need help?” 

No answer. You stare up, wondering how you might see inside. If you weren’t built like a keg, you might be able to see from the lower level of the fire escape but you can’t even make it one rung. You blink and call out again. 

“Hello? Are you okay?” 

You wait for a response. Silence again. Maybe they found their way out on their own. You huff. So much for all that. All you’ve done is added to the pain in your arches. You turn on your heel and a groan gurgles and plastic crinkles noisily. 

You stop again, wavering, and peer back over your shoulder. A hand appears over the tops of the dumpsters edge and grips it. You face the large metal bin as the knuckles strain within the stained brown leather, fingertips poking out nakedly, blood and dirty tinged across the flesh. A long grunt follows as the figure drags himself to look over the top. 

“Sir, are you--” you begin, voice catching at the sight of the cowl and the man’s square jaw. The white star on his chest stuns you. It’s him. Everyone knows that uniform, that face, even under his helmet. New York’s own Captain America. 

You gape as the super soldier strains and swings himself out of the dumpster with one arm. His other is hanging limply as his feet hit the pavement. His knees crack and buckle. He drops down onto them and hisses. 

“Captain America?” You utter dumbly. 

He puts his fist to the ground and leans on his arm. He hangs his head and heaves. He drags a leg forward, planting his foot, and makes himself stand. He pushes his shoulders back and winces, reaching to cradle his dangling arm. 

“Steve,” he rasps, “goddamn.” 

You don’t expect the obscenity. Not from him. He leans against the dumpster and turns his chin up. He gnashes his teeth as he grips his arm and jerks, moving the heavy bin with his effort. The pop of his shoulder is sickening as he growls tightly. He stomps his foot and as he shakes out the arm he just put back into place. 

He reaches up and peels off his cowl as he puts his head straight. He looks at you as he wipes the streak of blood from lip to chin. His blond locks are streaked silver and his face is lined. He looks much older than the magazine covers and the TV screens. The magic of editing, right? 

He swipes the sweaty hair from his forehead and huffs. 

“Steve,” you rest your phone on your stomach, “are you okay?” 

He pushes himself away from the dumpster and puffs, “I’m fine. Just... a hiccup.” 

You stare at him. He looks tired and worn. You believe him when he says he’s okay. He's a super soldier and the world has seen his many feats. Yet he looks completely hollow. 

“Are you sure? I could call someone or...” you step forward and point to the slash that borders chest and shoulder, “you should clean that out, shouldn’t you?” 

He looks down and grimaces, “had worse. I got comms. HQ doesn’t care about a few scratches.” 

He goes to step forward and stumbles slightly. He snarls and kicks his foot into the gravel. He wiggles his knee and bends to rub the joint. 

“I...” your mouth opens and closes. This isn’t the man you’ve seen in the media. He's not smiling and golden and shining. Still, he’s the Captain. “I live above,” you gesture upward, “I could help... or maybe you can just... sit for a little bit. Get yourself straight?” 

He looks at you. As if for the first time. His forehead smooths as the tension eases from his jaw. His gaze slowly crawls down to his stomach and you see the dimple in his cheek. 

“Your husband okay with that? I’m a bit of a mess,” his tone is lighter as he fixes his grip on his cowl. 

“Oh no, I don’t have--” you chew your lip and look at the brick wall, “it’s just me. But I have first aid kit and learned to stitch in summer camp. I think I can still remember how.” 

He glances around and nods, “got a back door?” 

“Yeah, it’s... past you,” you nod in his direction. 

He pivots stiffly and cranes to see around the dumpster. You near him and your keys jingle again. You follow him to the metal door with the glass window and you shove the key in and twist. You pull it open a few inches. It’s heavier than the front door. He grabs it and wrenches it all the way back. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. “There’s an elevator.” 

“Hm, fewer people see me, the better,” he sniffs as the door clanks behind him. 

“It might take me a while,” you warn, “I’m slow.” 

“What floor. I’ll meet you,” he offers. 

“Sure, it’s three.” 

“Number?” 

“310.” 

“I’ll find it,” he states and marches towards the stair sign. 

You go to catch the elevator, stewing in disbelief on your ascent. You step off and continue on to your apartment. He’s already there. He stands with his hand on the frame, looking over his shoulder as you waddle down the hall towards him. 

“It’s unlocked,” you say. 

He opens it and waits for you. You thank him as you enter and he follows. He locks it and lingers behind you. You put your hand to the wall as you slip off your slides. He gently lays his cowl on the corner table and bends to unlace his boots. You hang the keys on the hook and place your phone on the small table. 

He leaves his dirtied boots on the mat and limps forward. You stand in the open doorway of the living room and peek back at him. He looks around reluctantly. 

“Please, sit down,” you insist and wave through the doorway before you pass through. 

“I...” he begins and you hear his uneven gait down the hallway. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.” 

“I have a steam cleaner,” you assure. “Sit, I’ll get the kit.” 

He stares, his eyes once more scanning the space. Does he think this is a trip? That you’re some covert agent who all too conveniently found him? That’s absurd. Look at you. 

You shrug off that ridiculous idea and cross to the kitchen. You open several drawers before you remember it’s in the bathroom. Of course. Your brain likes to play games these days. You grab the metal tin from under the sink and return to Steve.  

He pulls off his gloves and balls them on the side table next to the couch. You come around the other side of the couch and sit, leaving lots of space between you. You squeeze the kits as you’re once more out of breath. 

“You okay?” He turns the question on you. 

“I’m not the one bleeding. Just pregnant,” you smile. 

You balance the kit on your stomach as you lean back. You sanitize a needle and weave it with surgical thread. You put that aside and fish out an alcoholic swap. You shift the kit aside and push on the back of the couch as you try to sit forward. You shake and he helps you, a humbling assistance. 

“First,” you turn to him, “we’ll see how deep it is,” you tear open the swap, “can I...” 

“One sec,” he dips his fingers into the fabric and tears the sleeve, renting the fabric like tissue. His arm is thick and well-toned despite the years. A centurion like him can’t complain for the shape he’s in, even battered. “I can do it myself.” 

“Yes, but it wouldn’t be easy.” 

You reach as he angles towards you. You gingerly dab around the gash and he tenses. He takes a sharp breath, “you don’t have to be so gentle. I can handle pain.” 

“Right,” you work more diligently. 

He’s quiet as you tend to him, picking out gravel and some metal slivers. You worry that you might miss some. You lean in closer and he steels himself at your proximity. 

“So,” he clears his throat, “just you and...” the kid?” 

“We all make mistakes,” you chuckle. You can only laugh about it, as scared as you are. 

“Mmm,” he flinches as you sweep down the length of the cut. It’s not that deep, mostly superficial. 

“Let me put some steri-strips on, shouldn’t need the stitches, ” you say as you sift through the kit with one hand, “if you’re hungry, I have leftovers. You like chicken?” 

You don’t know why you’re offering. Maybe it’s because you owe him. Like everyone in the city. It’s your chance to give back to the hero who gave so much. Or maybe it’s because you’re so damn lonely talking to your own stomach. 

“I should go,” he insists as you place a strip across the cut. 

“Up to you,” you say, “I don’t mind either way, but I’m not going to chase Captain America out of ym apartment.” 

He doesn’t say anything. You finish dressing his wound and gather up the wrappers and all. You crumple it in one hand and rock yourself to stand. You’re overly aware of him watching you. You touch your stomach and rub it, soothing your nerves. You find him watching the movement of your hand. 

“You must be pretty far along,” he says. 

“Six months. Chicken tortellini, if you want. I was gonna reheat some. I haven’t eaten since work.” 

“Work?” He frowns and stands, moving better than before. “Should you be?” 

“I’m at a desk. It’s nothing. HR got me some ergonomic stuff. Nothing compared to what you do.” 

You put away the kit and toss the garbage. You wash your hands before you search out the container of pasta in the fridges. You sense him behind you, just in the wide archway that peers into the kitchen. You reach into the cupboard you left open and take the single plate that isn’t in the rack. 

“So, you want some?” You ask. 

He’s silent with contemplation, the shift of his weight creaks in the floor, “I appreciate it, yes, please.” 

“I might have something you can change into,” you say. You wonder why you’re doing all this. Maybe it’s that maternal instinct kicking in. “The father, before he took off, left a few things.” You peek over your shoulder, “he was a bit smaller than you.” 

He shrugs then winces at the careless gesture. “Do you mind if I wash up before I eat? I smell like garbage. I don’t wanna overstep--” 

“Go ahead, it’ll take a while to warm this up,” you say. 

Another long lull. He taps his fingers on the wall and inhales deep enough for you to hear, “promise, I’ll get out of your hair after dinner.” 

“Please, take your time,” you say as you put the tortellini in a glass pan to rebake. He backs away and you sense his hesitation, “oh, down the hall, to the left of the bedroom at the end.” 

“Thanks,” he intones, “oh, uh, just realised, you know who I am...” 

Your brows pop up and you stop before you can put the pan in the stove. You look back at him and give your name. He nods. 

“Pretty,” he comments, “also, it’s just Steve, not Captain.” 

[glitterandhelium]

also s3 = 3 deaths (billy, "hopper", alexi)

s4= 4 deaths ("max", eddie and the sacrifices...)

i cannot handle 5 deaths in season 5, especially if there's not new characters to kill off...

[myfictionaldreams]

~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags  ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥

you're mine (smut, angst, dark)

Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?

i need more (fluff, smut)

You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.

ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)

He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters

steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)

It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.

When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)

It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?

one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.

repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?

how many?(fluff, smut)

Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.

i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

no touching (fluff, smut, angst)

You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.

i don’t care (fluff, smut)  

'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst) 

It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.

overwhelming (fluff)

It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

the fun game  (fluff, smut)

Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?

harder, please  (fluff, smut, angst)

Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?

protect and forget  (fluff, smut, angst) 

Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?

All Eyes On You  (smut)  

“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers

you belong to me  (fluff, smut, angst)

These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?

dont fall asleep  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

rule number one.  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.

Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2)  (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

our little bean  (fluff, angst)    

You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant?  Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).

the limit  (fluff, smut, angst)

Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

sick day (fluff)

Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.

accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst) 

You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

everyone is breakable  (fluff, smut, angst)

Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

winter soup  (fluff, smut, angst)

There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

something new   (smut)

The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?

pegging - kinktober  (smut)

Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

cockwarming - kinktober (smut)

You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.

double penetration in one hole - kinktober  (smut)

You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.

fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)

You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.

role reversal - kinktober  (smut)

For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.

Duke, Duchess and Knights  (fluff, angst)

You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.

Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)

It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

Drabbles

The first to give their jacket when reader is cold

Mad & Sad moments

Saying the wrong thing

TikTok trend: no kissing

Who is more protective?

safe space in your new home

Halloween Costumes

[harringtonswriting]

i feel like Steve is a Little Women or Anne of Green Gables kinda guy idk something about those stories where the protagonist of the story grows in a way where it's still fun and they are passionate about it kinda resonates with him. I saw someone else describing it in a better way but yeah i think Steve would be into those stories (plus they are easy to read).

I also don't know what books were like popular in the 80s but overall i don't necessarily think Steve's big into reading maybe bc of the books he had to read for school. if he's into a book then definitely because his SO or the person he has a crush on recommended it to him.

omg anon i LOVE your way of thinking, thank you so much!! i love both of those books, and that totally makes sense to me! i definitely think he’d lean towards more easy to read stuff too (and not necessarily hardcore sci-fi/fantasy) with all his head trauma, plus he was probably more of a childhood reader (to me, anyway) and those could definitely have been books he really liked as a child (and resonated with the protagonists, bc steve is absolutely full of passion and fire). but that makes sense! tbh ive been trying to google what was popular back then (since i dont think the books i have from that time were popular LOL) but that! is valid! i know that required reading for school can put lots of ppl off!! so it makes sense!! but him reading what his crush or SO recommends to get to know them better 🥺 that’s kinda the idea behind what i’m working on so!!! thank you!!

[supernovafics]

•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔. ❞✧∘ ✭・.✫・゜·。.

supernovafics!

✭•*⁀➷ a bestfriend!steve harrington roommate au slightly inspired by the tv show “friends” ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

a year in the lives of you and your best friend steve harrington. you never thought that you would be living with this guy you’ve known since you were ten— although it was a hypothetical topic that was discussed at length during the many sleepovers you had over the years. but somehow on a hectic day in august, the stars managed to align, and the next thing you know a lease is being signed and the two of you are moving into a two-bedroom apartment. so far it’s been two months of countless late nights and too many really early mornings where you’re running late to class or steve’s rushing to get to his shift at family video. for the most part, though, it’s a perfect situation. until the lines that felt as if they were clearly drawn in the sand— and had been there from perhaps the moment you and him met— start getting blurrier and blurrier

warnings: bestfriend!steve, roommate!steve, childhood best friends to (eventual) lovers, two idiots in love (but neither wanna admit it), Big Big slow burn, besties being besties, minimal angst, mainly just a lot of fun vibes, eventual smut (minors dni!), many familiar faces (robin, eddie, sometimes the kids), no use of y/n, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter

important note! this will be a very “low stakes” series (there’s not really a super specific storyline happening in this), and i’m really just gonna post for it whenever i’m in the mood/feel inspired for it. i already have a bunch of random ideas for this universe that i wanna eventually do, but requests are open for anything you wanna see with these roommates/besties<333 (also oneshots/blurbs will be posted non-chronologically but will be listed chronologically, so you can pretty much read in any order you want to!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

fall 1985

love is a game (the one where you and steve have a “housewarming party”)

let’s forget it (the one where steve sees you naked)

third street (the one at the diner in the middle of the night)

silly promises (the one at dairy queen)

take a picture (the one with batman & robin)

from the dining table (the one with the early thanksgiving dinner)

never talk about it (the one where you see steve naked)

just a feeling (the one with steve’s date)

winter 1985/1986

the first fall of snow (the one where the kids spend the night)

care for you (the one where you’re both sick)

maybe this year (the one with the bet)

closing time (the one at family video)

while you were sleeping (the one with steve’s epiphany)

only for you (the one where you and steve play basketball)

in the middle of the night (the one with the ski trip)

worth waiting for (the one after the ski trip) (18+)

spring 1986

between you and me (the one where you and steve are secretly dating)

tell me a secret (the one where everyone finds out)

take my hand (the one where you and steve are chaperones at a school dance)

stay with me (the one where you come home drunk and steve takes care of you)

much better (the one with the "celebratory dinner")

summer 1986

one more second (the one with the barbecue)

[callooopie]

CALLOOOPIE‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️

DROP A MODERN!CREGAN HEADCANON LIST. AND MY LIFE, IS YOURS. 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Modern!Cregan Stark headcannons (pt. 1)

Forgive my northern attitude, oh I was raised on little light — Northern Attitude // Noah Kahan

okay… we did not get much Cregan.. so these modern vibes might be a little off. I looked long and hard (🤨) at a photo of him and these were the vibes I conjured up.

This man.. is so serious. Whenever you look at Cregan he looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel with how tense he is. He’ll tell you not to worry, this is his natural state (“natural state?!?!”) you don’t think you’ve ever seen him relaxed… although there are times he lets loose, it’s reserved and calm. If he does relax it’s still oddly tense or as if he’s on edge. He’s mastered the art of being both chill but perceptive of his surroundings to a headache inducing degree. “Hm? Yeah I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, honest. One of us needs to be alert here.”

Immediately dipped after college. He got his degree in environmental engineering, he’s out of there. You, Jace, and Davos once planned a summer trip to Cregan’s cabin way up north. Now, way up north? Think like the Yukon or the bush of Alaska—that’s where Cregan would make his home. It’s secluded, no one bothers him, and he can live off the land in relative peace. You three get lost, of course. It’s like you have to take a seaplane, and then hike for a bit to the nearest town, and then you’ll have to wait for him to pick you all up. “You guys kept running around town. It took me forever to find you. Texts? I don’t get those traveling from the cabin… oh well—you’re all here now. The air will do you idiots some good.”

Dog dad. Dog dad. Dog dad. Cregan’s got big dogs, he’s got little dogs. A livestock dog to care for his chickens, some other big dogs for hunting, and a lap dog for emotional support purposes. It’s a hearty mix of Labrador, Pyrenees, mountain dog, maybe even a shepherd of sorts. But the little dog? I feel like it’d either be a dachshund or a corgi. A corgi is a reliable herd dog on top of being just a little guy. But a dachshund would be something he would hold as he walked around the perimeter of his land. Or even better he would have both. But this is his herd, his squad. “Hey!—settle down everyone. Sit down.. down now! Sorry about them, they’re just excited to see you. They’re usually pretty lax, except around you it seems.”

Terrible driver. But not because he’s bad at it, but because he’s literally in the wilderness, there are no traffic laws to obey. He’s driving down a hill full speed no braking. You’re in the passenger seat holding on for dear life as the car literally shakes and jolts you around. But Cregan? He’ll be holding a simple conversation with you, voice not even shaking from the sudden movements of the jeep or truck as he navigates the country road. I cannot figure out if he has more truck vibes or more Jeep vibes. I feel like either would work—as long as they got the job done. And either way, both cars would be muddied and somewhat damaged—filled with survival gear, winter gear, more things tied down on top with bungie cords and hooks. “What do you need? Oh, yeah that should be in the back.. somewhere. Probably in one of the bags—lemme go check for you. Hang tight, be right back.”

This man fishes. Not like “leaving my bitch wife to go fishin’ with my boys” more like “I’m catching the radioactive catfish of Chernobyl and no one’s stopping me” type fishing. He gets into it, he goes crazy. Cregan’s out on a boat at sea looking for Cthulhu. Y’all know the show River Monsters? That’s Cregan’s type of fishing. Sure he does more ‘relaxed’ fishing once in a while, he enjoys the mix of adventure but also the quiet and the patience of the fish. He will talk about how beautiful the fish is, like Steve Irwin levels of talking to fish (and animals in general). Cregan’s a catch and release king, but if he does choose to use the fish he will use all of it from the head to the bones. Everything’s getting used and processed into something. “Let’s see what you caught.. oh nice, that’s a chinook salmon. A beauty too, look at the size of that thing. You caught that beast yourself without my help? It’ll taste better on an open fire, c’mon I’ll teach you how to gut it… don’t frown at me.”

Master chef I would think. It’s not Michelin star cooking, but cooking with the freshest ingredients possible? Cregan makes a mean salad from the veggies in his garden (a pretty big garden too, he built those wooden garden beds himself) and when he hunts he uses all the meat and bones from the animal as said before with the fish. He’s not overly hunting either, he gets enough for you and him to last a while. “Good harvest today, real good—everything was ripe and ready. What do you think? It all looks good? ..that’s.. that’s good. I’m glad.. save room for dessert too then. Have you ever had acorn cake?”

You know what? He’s a park ranger. Or a state ranger. He’s got a job where he can take care of the land and teach people about the environment and how to respect it. Cregan’s all about teaching little kids what plants are poisonous and then on the next call he’s busting folks for throwing litter into a river. He is the type that if he spots you maybe hiking or doing something while he’s on duty he will pretend to bust you over for something heinous or embarrassing. Bonus if there’s people around you, now you’re getting arrested for leaving a dildo attached to a tree. But usually? It’s silly reasons laced with compliments that make you blush or smile. “..Whatcha doing out here? Hiking? Suuure. Y’know we heard some reports about a.. a very um—beautiful person wandering looking lost.. just saying, I know my way around..”

Such a good listener. Cregan is for the people who just need an ear to listen to them. If something’s bothering you, upsetting you, or you’re just not feeling like yourself; he’ll lead you out to the back porch, gesturing for you to sit down on the step beside him. It’ll be quiet, except for the sounds of nature surrounding the cabin and the woods. You can see mountain ranges in the background, the midnight sun casting a hazy glow over the land. And the next thing you know is you’re pouring your heart out to him. Cregan would remain silent, unless you ask him for advice or support. He’s the type to not want to impose on you if you don’t wish to hear unsolicited opinions or comments on a matter—so you’ll need to tell him you want to hear his advice.

Busted ass cabin. It’s so good. There’s a nearby lake, there’s mountains in the distance. The woods are thick and beautiful. The people yearn for such a place. It’s such a relaxed vibe too, take off your shoes in the house though. There is a lot of cleaning that goes on however on account of the dogs around the home. But the cabin is lived in and homey. It’s cool and refreshing in the summers with the windows open, and it’s warm and cozy in the winters with the fireplace roaring. It’s not too big, but it’s not too cramped either. “Not too warm? Too cold maybe? …well if you’re cold there’s a good way to fix that—“

Cregan loves teaching you how to live off the land. It’s basically a part of what he does for his job. But with just you? It feels more special, more intimate. You’re eager to learn, and he’s more than happy to show you how to start a fire in an emergency, how to skin an animal and use all its parts for different things. What to do if you’re in a bind in the woods and what you should do first. It’s good advice honestly. Pure survival skills. His hands would be over yours, guiding them through the motions of something. His chin resting atop your head or on your shoulder as he explains each step or how something can be utilized to its fullest potential.

Don’t take his silence or his lack of reactions as something negative. Cregan’s just the type to silently revel in your presence first and foremost, no talking required. Most of your fishing or hunting trips are filled with silence, save for the sound of music from an old portable radio and the occasional sound of a beer can opening. Sometimes you read, sometimes you fish alongside him. But know that he does enjoy your company heavily, and if you do say something don’t worry he’ll respond. Sometimes he does worry maybe he’s a little too aloof or reserved when it comes to you. Reassure him that words aren’t always needed, and sometimes it’s good to just be next to one another without adding anything to it.

With you he can get a little silly. Cregan would lean against your side of the truck, a stupid smile on his face as you talk to him. If you’re hiking and there’s a muddy spot, he will pick you up and carry you over it. He’s the type to serve you food first before him, and if he’s having a snack he’s the type to share it without needing you to ask him. It’s like the phrase to be loved is to be seen. Fresh flowers for you every day, he wakes up early to make you coffee in bed. If you’re the squeamish type about hunting/fishing, he won’t go into the details of your dinner. And if you’re with him, he’ll take care of the food far off from you so you don’t need to see it.