#wait does steve even make those noises anymore?

[love-3-crimes]

something about un-roamed paths idk

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3

-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.

Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.

The Brain Injury Recovery Center.

It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.

So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.

Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…

There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.

“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.

Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.

Can’t let Eddie see him like this…

He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.

For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.

It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.

Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.

As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.

Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.

He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.

Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.

Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…

His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.

But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.

And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.

It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.

Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.

Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…

The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.

It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.

Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.

He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.

Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.

Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.

To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.

Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.

“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.

He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.

“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.

“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.

“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”

The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”

Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”

She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”

“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”

He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.

“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.

“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.

She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.

He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…

It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.

Hopper steps out.

Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.

When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.

His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.

Then it clicks.

Oh. Steve’s the emergency.

He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.

“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.

Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.

Munson. Eddie.

The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?

Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.

“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?

“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.

When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”

Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”

Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.

“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”

“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.

The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.

“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.

Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.

But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.

“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”

Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.

Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“

Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.

She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”

Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”

She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.

“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.

“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”

But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.

“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.

Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”

But she doesn’t, not really.

Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—

No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.

Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.

When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.

🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.

Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)

@morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @sofadofax @lawrencebshoggoth @stevesworldxx @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @dame-zoom-a-lot @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 115

Part 1 Part 114

Will could tell they were coming well before his bedroom door opened, both their presences shining like a beacon, brighter and brighter the closer they came.

It’s still a surprise to see their faces. Eddie looks excited enough to be verging on manic, the same way he does when there’s a particularly juicy twist in a campaign he’s been planning out. In contrast, Steve looks almost grave. Not worried, but something serious in the slant of his mouth as Eddie tugs him inside and shuts the door.

“What’s going on?” Will asks, looking between the pair for clues, and finding none.

“Nothing serious,” Steve replies. He commandeers Will’s desk chair while Eddie flops into the bed beside Will, wriggling around until he’s stollen all the covers and wrapped them around himself like a human burrito.

“We’ve just got something to tell ya,” Eddie continues, beaming up at Will.

Neither of them continues, so Will looks back and forth between them. Eddie’s eyes are downright twinkling, while Steve stares at the side of Eddie’s head, glaring.

“Fine,” Steve grumbles, finally turning to meet Will’s eyes. “Eddie and I are dating.”

Will nods, maintaining eye contact as he waits for Steve to keep talking. He doesn’t. “That’s it?”

Eddie squawks,  slithering up in bed, still so swaddled in blankets that he looks formless. “What do you mean, that’s it?” he demands, elbowing Will in the ribs, but it’s through all the blankets so Will barely feels it.

“Weren’t you guys already dating?”

Eddie’s mouth is hanging open, formless consonants leaking out of him. Steve steeples his fingers and leans forward, elbows on knees.

“It’s just, Eddie said—”

Eddie wriggles his arm free just in time to slap it over Will’s mouth with an awkward laugh. “Shut, up, Baby Byers,” he hisses, a faux smile on his face.

Steve leans back in the chair, lets his hands land loosely on the armrests. He’s smirking like there’s a canary in his mouth, and for the first time, Will can almost see the cool guy everyone acts like Steve is.

Not the real kind of cool that Steve actually is, but the kind who’d throw parties, and sit on a high school throne he hadn’t even built himself.

“What did you say, Eddie?” he asks, still smirking, and oh, is this flirting?

Will contorts his body until he’s free of Eddie’s silencing hand. “He said he was in love with you,” Will says.

Eddie sags into himself with a groan, burying his face into the blanket he’s still wrapped in. He looks like a pill bug, the only flesh visible a little bit of one of his ankles. Will pokes it and Eddie jerks, raising his head just enough to pout at Will.

“Is that so,” Steve says, but it’s not phrased like a question. Will answers it anyway.

“He said you looked like an angel in the Upside-Down, when we saw all those lights at my house for the first time?” Will feels his own face blushing as he remembers the way the lights had shone down on Steve, painted him in gold like it was his birthright.

Steve’s not smirking anymore, he’s gone all weird and gooey in the face. It only gets worse when Eddie makes a whining noise.

“Is that where the nickname came from?” he mutters quietly enough that it barely carries to Will’s ears. When Steve starts speaking again, it’s at his normal volume. “Wait, where was I for this?”

Eddie sits up at that, uncocooning himself enough to free his arms but keeping it over his head like an extremely unfashionable cloak.

“Uh…” he starts, shifting forward to stare into Steve’s eyes. “You were possessed?”

Steve grimaces, and all Kingly posturing falls away as he slumps back into the chair, crossing his arms in a way that looks more like a hug. Eddie must think so, too, because he latches onto Steve’s pantleg with grabby fingers and pulls until Steve settles onto Will’s bed with them.

“Were there any witnesses to this little declaration?” Steve asks, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Just Mom and Uncle Wayne,” Will replies.

Steve nods, slow as he meets Will’s gaze. “…and your Mom was.”

“She doesn’t care,” Will cuts in. Steve lets out a relieved breath that Will feels in his bones. He’d felt that worry when she’d let out a shocked gasp at Eddie’s declaration, had felt it wither away when he’d seen her hopeful face. “She just wanted you back.”

“We all did,” Eddie cuts in, throwing his stolen blanket over Steve’s shoulders, Will nestled between them both. “And we thought maybe trying to reach you in there would work?”

Steve laughs, but it’s all wet and choked up in itself. “And you said you were in love with me?” Steve asks. He reaches around Will to smooth down Eddie’s mussed bangs, the one cheek Will can see from his angle turning a light pink. “That’s so embarrassing for you.”

Eddie grumbles but leans into Steve’s touch all the time. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he asks. “We could feel you in there. You must’ve heard us.”

Will cranes himself away to look at Steve’s face, compromising the integrity of their ramshackle blanket fort enough that he tears it off Eddie and Steve entirely.

Steve doesn’t seem to have even noticed. His eyes are distant, glazed over like he’s looking at something else entirely.

Will never wants to see that distance on Steve Harrington’s face ever again, not after black smoke and a Steve that isn’t, so he tugs on their connection, and he comes back alive.

“I think I heard some of it?” he says, holding the palm of his hand to his ear like he’s listening to the ocean. He goes distant again, but Will’s pretty sure he’s just trying to remember, so he resists the temptation to pull him free. “What did everyone else say?”

Eddie reaches out and links his pinkie with Steve’s. “Oh, the same sappy shit we’ve all said to your face,” Eddie replies, but he’s smiling. “Baby Byers acted like it was his job to save you, and fawned over you like you’re some goddamn action hero.”

“Hey!” Will cries, but Steve’s laughing, so he doesn’t mind, especially not when Steve tugs on him this time, beaming at him like he’s a revelation.

“Uncle Wayne, the cantankerous old man that he is, said you were like a son to him.”

“Mom just asked you to come home,” Will cuts in. Steve’s eyes are shining.

“And I declared my undying love to you in front of all and sundry,” Eddie finishes, rearranging their linked pinkies so he can tangle the rest of their fingers together as well.

“You’re all so embarrassing,” Steve says, but he reaches out and bully’s Will into his arms. Eddie, never one to turn down a hug, worms his way into the situation immediately and applies enough pressure to make both their ribs creak.

They stay like that for a long time, until Mom calls, “boys, breakfast!” from somewhere in the house.

Eddie’s the first to let go with a contented sigh, scrabbling up off Will’s. He’s skipped halfway out the door before either of them has even stood up.  

“Has Mama Byers learned to cook since the last time we were here?” Eddie asks, leaning back in to grin cheekily at Will. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood for eggs that are somehow rubbery and watery at the same time.”

Part 116

[mommysam]

so invested in prism steve + hopper

go read it if you haven't @thorniest-rose and @azrielgreen made such a dark and beautiful fucked up steddie/harringrove universe

I wrote a little something ⭐⭐⭐

since he's the sheriff and it was big news for such a small town, hopper heard about when they moved into town. the boy who walked like he perfected not cutting himself on the ice and sharp things he was stuffed with but whose smile and kind words could melt the biggest glacier. and his parents who liked to pull the disappearing act. who was gone more than not.

the 14 year old retired model and his parents who must be so proud to have such a hard working and over achieving kid.

he thought, 'well they're gonna be trouble.' and the first time he got called to an out of control house party he was proven right. but he wishes he wasn't. jim hopper would do anything to not have been right about Steve Harrington.

he pulled up to the house and that's all he had to do for the kids to book it. beer bottles were forgotten, thrown. blunts were swallowed and kicked on. if you didn't know it was a bunch of teenage kids who should be too young to make such a noise, you'd think it was a herd of elephants running from the house as fast as their thick new born legs can.

hopper waited for most of them to clear out. there's no point in chasing after them, hes known most of these kids all their lives. he's not gonna waste his energy.

after it seems like most of them cleared out, hopper makes his way up to the house and that's when he steps out.

he looks confused, a little lost.

hoppers not gonna let his soft little boy face play with his emotions the way the kid is probably trying for.

and before he could even say anything the kid asks 'whats going on?'

like it's not obvious. all those big hollywood parties probably made him feel invincible and like he could get away with anything. its gonna be one hell of a shock that he can't get away with it anymore here in hoppers town.

'hi, steve right?' a nod. 'im the county sheriff, jim hopper. im not sure how they do it where youre from but here things like drugs and underage drinking are illegal.'

'illegal?' the kid asks, as if he didn't know drugs and underage drinking is illegal. as if he doesn't know the word illegal exsists. that has hopper pause. and now that he stops to collect and pack in his indignation, hopper sees that the kid looks sleep rumpled. hair smashed at one side, eyes squinting and crusted in the corners, sleep pants and tshirt hanging off one skinny shoulder.

too skinny of a shoulder.

'yeah, I got a complaint from the neighbors. said they smelled pot, said they could see everything from the sidewalk. you gotta at least try to keep a low profile if youre gonna be having these types of parties in this neighborhood.'

'oh.' steve nods his head like he understands but his eyes still look confused, a little glassy.

'you high, kid?'

'no. just woke up.' hopper thought so but it still surprises him.

'you were sleeping? during your own house party?'

'the noise is nice.' and hopper shouldn't fall for it. he's a rich hollywood kid and could probably act his ass off for anything. but then he remembers steve's files.

Thirteen. Forty.

he still looks like he could use a couple hours of sleep and a nice hot meal.

steve's looking at hopper like he's waiting to be told what to do and like he needs it.

'well where are your parents?'

steve tilts his head like the question makes no sense, as if it's normal for his parents to not be around and it's common knowledge.

'ok how about this, is everyone cleared out?'

'think so.'

'well wait here, im gonna go make sure.' hopper does. Its a big empty house like he expected. he heads back out and says to steve 'all good, you go inside now, lock the doors and go back to sleep. you got one hell of a clean up in the morning, kid.' the boy gives a soft sad sigh, but nods his head and starts to turn towards the house. 'and no more crazy house parties ok? or at least keep them drug free and quiet, or you're gonna end up seeing a lot of me.' another nod - the bobble head interpretation would be funny if there wasn't something so heart breaking about it - and he does what he's told.

good boy.

hopper takes a look around the yard. it's trashed and the inside was even worse. empty fridge, unlocked liquor cabinets, full pill bottles of the good prescribed stuff that just so happens to be left home and probably refilled when they magically disappear in between each 'work trip'.

he rolls up his sleeves and gets to work. after 5 hours of deep cleaning the yard, an excuse to the office about a personal emergency, hopper makes sure the front and back doors are locked.

they are.

and from that point forward he gets a call from the same neighbor about the raging house party a sleeping boy is hosting and needs controlled at least twice a month.

sometimes more but that's what hoppers here for. god knows no one else is.

the office let's him make his half ass excuses when he disappears after each call out and sometimes he wishes they wouldnt. what if he wasn't helping the kid out? what if he was someone like Forty?

but he's not and he tells himself he won't let someone like that back into steve's life again.

it hurts like a fucking bitch when he can't keep his own promise to himself.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Ohhhh this is giving me Shrinkyclinks: https://www.tumblr.com/mommysorrydaddysorry/725315222821306368

Bucky spending months taking it slow with Steve, worried about his past, anxious about his many PTSD triggers, mindful always of how even without the serum he could bend his boyfriend like a twig.

Steve goes along with it. At first. Wants Bucky to be comfortable, is enamored with how Bucky gazes at him like he’s something precious. But Steve isn’t made to be satisfied with nothing but lovemaking. Not when Bucky comes home with someone else’s blood on him and his pupils blown with adrenaline.

Steve goads him, presses the buttons he knows by now, feels arousal slicing through every inch of his body as Bucky finally, finally manhandles him where he likes, pins Steve’s legs when he struggles. Bucky gathers Steve’s wrists in one enormous hand as the other, metal and unforgiving, works his ass open.

Steve hisses like a feral cat, straining with all his might and feeling like cum is about to come out his EYEBALLS when Bucky doesn’t budge an inch; just grips Steve harder, hand and wrist and fingers and splayed thigh, and fucks him like Steve never imagined he’d be fucked in his life.

[Link] to a photo of a large hand restraining the wrists of someone with smaller hands.

I Am Always Here For Consensual Angry Sex.

I Am Always Here For Consensual Adrenaline Filled Sex.

Always.

Perfect.

And this is so very in-character of Steve. 100%. He wants to come out of this bruised like an overripe peach. He wants to look like he went round for round with a grizzly.

Held down. Scratched. Bitten. Bruised. Handprints everywhere. All of it. Sore and unable to walk straight without wincing.

Bucky might feel regretful the first time when he sees what he's done to Steve in the morning with a clear head, but, shit, he's also so goddamn hard. Even if it makes Bucky feel bad. How could he do that to him? Why did Steve let him do it to him? ...When's the next time Bucky can do it again?

To persuade him over the line to feel fully alright with it, all it takes is a good, eye-to-eye conversation with true verification that Steve likes this. He wanted this. All of this. INCLUDING the morning after situation. No matter how "bad" it looks.

Okay... it also maybe takes a little extra convincing the next time for Bucky to fuck him like that again BUT-! Bucky works his way up to being fully comfortable soon enough. And when he is fully comfortable--

Oh, fuck.

That's when it's really on.

Bucky will maul Steve the night he comes back from a mission, then he will wake in the morning and instantly be on him again.

Steve sleeps longer than Bucky those nights, passed the fuck out, aching in the best way. If he weren't so worn out as to sleep dreamlessly, his dreams would be full of the filthiest kind of shit. Replaying every moment. Every moan. Every scream. Every desperate, crazed plead of Bucky to go harder, more, again, again!

But he doesn't dream those nights. He sleeps like the dead. So...

Bucky will wake up and admire his lil Stevie doll, sleeping beauty.

Bucky'll tease back the sheets, exposing his shoulders, then his back inch by inch, all the way down his spine, and take in the marks as the crisp, white sheet reveals them. One by one. He doesn't hiss or recoil. These days, he smirks. His works his jaw, swallowing thickly, remembering what he did to get that pretty shade of purple-red and the noise Steve made in response to it.

Fuck.

Eventually, he'll peel the sheets down to Steve's expose round ass to the morning light. The eighth wonder of the world, he swears--Steve's ass. How does such a tiny guy have such a great ass? Perfectly round and pert.

Bucky might pinch one of those marks, not too hard, he doesn't want to do anymore damage, he just wants to hear Steve make a sleepy little grumble. Bucky should make himself wait. He should let Steve get his sleep while he can. Let him recover. Rest. It's not that simple, though.

He looks like sin. He feels like sin. Bucky knows that well. He's experienced it so much. Just once more, though, just once more--

If he really is feeling weak, Bucky might squirm closer and leave butterfly kisses on the small, small of his back or leave actual kisses there or on his ass. He might take a nibble.

Usually, it's at that point that Steve wakes up, groggy, voice still raw from the night before, rendering him unable to speak--he can only hoarsely groan--but still communicating how he feels about this turn of events, Steve spreads his lithe thighs and grinds his oversensitive, soft dick against the bed.

He's not gonna be able to get hard, his body is ruined in the best fucking way, but it feels good. It still feels so good. Pleasure filling his body completely.

Yeah, yeah, yeahhh.

Steve wants. Before he's even fully awake again, he wants.

"Mornin' baby," Bucky rumbles into his skin. Steve tastes salty. Sweat and also tangy as a result of Bucky cumming over his ass, painting him, and rubbing it into his freckled, flushed skin. Just because, Bucky licks him. Marking him again. So what, he's a little possessive. Anyone who's got the pleasure of having his Stevie would be.

Steve groans, face down the pillows.

Now that he's awake, Bucky spreads his cheeks, taking a good look at the damage to his sweet, tight, little cunt, "oh, babyy," he croons, "look at this poor thing! You let somebody do this to you? Some big bad man? Take your virtue, huh? You're all puffy and red down here, darlin'. Think you should lemme make you feel better--"

Steve doesn't need the charm. He squirms and immediately buries his head deeper into the bed, crying out as loud as his ruined throat will let him. Yes.

Yes.

A rough, big man. Fucked him without abandon. Until he sobbed. Made to orgasm over and over again, not because that big, heavy man wanted to make him feel good, wring him dry, but because that man was using him, selfish, and it felt so good that Steve couldn't help it. Spilling over. Easy for it; so easy for Bucky.

Silently, Steve shakes when Buckys tongue laps at his poor cunt. His mouth falling open stupidly.

AH!

[greenlikethesea]

friendsgiving excerpt, fair ithilien verse

i realized that i completely misadvertised this one -- it is not a fun fic, very very angsty, and is the catalyst for eddie leaving indiana and going to live with jonathan and argyle in LA for a few months before heading to san fran. here's a piece of writing i did that i'm quite proud of:

“There are only two doors on this fucking house,” Eddie starts.

Confusion flashes across Steve’s face, alarm, but he masks it quickly. He’s mean first, and fucking good at it when he feels indignant. Eddie wishes he didn’t know Steve so well. “I think I know the layout of my own house, Eddie.” 

“If you know the layout of your own house, Steve, riddle me this,” Eddie spits. “Say I’m in the backyard, smoking a cigarette, because no one gets to decide I quit except for me – am I going to go all the way to the front door to get back inside? A door that might be locked for all I know?”

Eddie can see Steve softening a little, the steel in his glare subsiding just a bit. “I suppose not.”

“So it makes the most sense for me to go in the back door, which is already open, because you opened it, I watched you do it,” Eddie continues. “But you and your wife seem to be having a tense conversation. And I don’t want to interrupt, or make noise, or disturb it. So that’s why I stayed put until the coast was clear. No offense, Steve, but I have more pressing matters on my mind than whatever you and your wife talk about when you’re alone.”

“Eddie,” Steve breathes. It’s so kind, and Eddie hates it. “Please, Eddie, I –”

Eddie laughs bitterly. “I don’t blame you for locking your front door, of course. Nice neighborhood like this, wouldn’t want anyone unsavory coming in. Take the trash out the back, you know how it goes.”

It’s fucking mean, a snarl from a wounded animal. He feels a pang of regret as Steve’s face falls, that beautiful face twisting in regret, any anger there now fled. But Eddie’s eyes hurt from keeping them anywhere but those two fucking moles on Steve’s neck, tantalizing and inviting above his crew neck collar. The skin there is probably soft from whatever expensive body wash he uses, a gift from Megan, maybe. Steve doesn’t drown himself in cologne anymore, but there’s something lingering – new clothes smell, or the air freshener that’s plugged into the kitchen outlet by the toaster oven. He wants to fist his hands in that crimson cashmere, wreck the collar from how hard he tugs it down, just to get his mouth on those two moles. Maul him, make a mess of that expanse of skin, so no one knows there are moles there by the time he’s done.

“How are you, Eddie?” Steve says. It’s impossibly quiet.

“I’m fine, Steve,” Eddie says, automatic. “I told you that before.”

“No, Eddie,” Steve says. He steps into Eddie’s space. “How are you, really?”

Unlike a lot of people, Eddie actually knows what it feels like to be eaten alive. He knows what it feels like to have some malevolent force not even wait until your heart stops beating to tear into your flesh. But this glass barrier between himself and everyone else, the long, endless days he spends at the trailer, or on the road, or dodging people’s phone calls – this barrier that he himself created? He’ll take the demobats over this any day. At least with those things, he could immediately identify what was causing him harm. Razor sharp fangs, tail like a whip designed to strangle prey, rough scales where skin is supposed to be – no wonder I feel like I’m going to die! But the vice grip of loneliness is harder to qualify, a pain so big that to speak it into existence would make it real. Inescapable. 

What does Eddie say to Steve? He doesn’t know how to talk about this emptiness that permeates every part of his existence. It would be so easy to rebuff him, to head back into the dining room with everyone else, where they’ve all no doubt dismantled the dessert table. But Steve’s looking at him like it’ll kill him if Eddie doesn’t tell him what’s wrong. And Eddie wants to believe it’s a lie. He wants so badly to convince himself that Steve doesn’t care about him, that now that he has a wife, he doesn’t need anyone else. Doesn’t need Eddie. But Eddie can see that this isn’t true. That Steve’s just the same as he’s always been, caring to a fault, big enough to see when he’s miscalculated, and that just makes the pain worse. 

“I’m…” he starts, but the words get caught in his throat. For the first time this entire conversation, he looks away from Steve. It’s too hard, too close –

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Hanging On The Telephone

Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Word Count:1,401

Summary:Steve just wanted to hear your voice, but as is the way with him, one thing leads to another 

Warnings:18+, smut, Phone Sex, Pet Names (Baby, Sweetheart, Sweets, Princess), Dirty Talk, Mutual Masturbation

Author's Note:Look, I don’t even know anymore, I think my horny brain ghostworte this whole fic

MASTERLIST

Steve wasn’t used to not being close to you. 

As much as Robin liked to joke at his expense that he was like a lost puppy without you, and as much as he hated to admit it, she was absolutely right. 

Whilst he could go over to your house, and climb up to your bedroom window right now, and then sneak into your room to spend the night with you, he had a different idea.

His eyes look over to where his phone lay on his bedside dresser and suddenly a plan starts formulating in his head.

He knew your parents would be away for the night, he remembers you telling him about them going to some fancy office party for one reason or another. The details of why were unimportant to him, all he knew is that you were alone in your room.

He goes over to pick up his phone, and begins to dial your number, hoping with each ring that you would pick up. Laying back on his bed he waits to hear your voice.

“Hello?” There she was, there was his sweet girl.

“Hey, baby.” Steve sighs out. 

“Stevie!!” He hears you giggling on the other end of the line, he couldn’t see you but he could just see your gorgeous smile curling at your lips in his mind. 

“So what’re you up to?” He asks.

“Oh, nothing special, just about to watch some tv, you?” you turn the question to him.

“I’m just laying in bed.” he says, but his voice sounds distant, you swear you can hear quiet shuffling noises on his end of the line.

“Stevie?” you ask, sounding unsure. “Are you okay over there?”

“I’m just a bit…uncomfortable..” he admits, trailing off, hoping that you would follow his meaning. 

Oh. Oh.

“Well then, do you want to do something about it?” you offer.

“What are you proposing, sweetheart?” he’s hoping, by the way his dick is beginning to tent in his sweatpants, that you're thinking the same thing that he is.

“Well maybe I could help you out? Offer a few words of encouragement.” your voice drops to what you hope is a sultry tone.

“Fuck..Sweetheart..tell me what to do please..” He whines out, surprised at the neediness in his voice already.

“What are you wearing, Stevie?” You ask, what was the right way to start something like this? You hope this came across as sexy rather than one of those lame sex chatlines.

“I’m just wearing a t-shirt, and sweatpants, nothing special, darling.” Steve admits honestly.

“Can you get undressed for me please..” you ask him.

“You got it, babe!” that was your Stevie, even in moments like this he still found time to be goofy and make you laugh. That’s what you loved about him. 

You listen to the brief moment of the sounds of clothes rustling, as he hurries to get naked.

“Okay and I’m naked now, what did you have in mind next, baby?” you hear his teasing smirk through his voice.

“Okay..um..a-are you..hard?” you cringe at your own awful attempts to sound sexy.

“A little, do you want me to stroke it?” he offers, helping you out.

“Yeah…go ahead. Touch yourself for me.”

Steve does as he’s told, you vaguely hear the sound of him spitting into his palm, followed by a deep rumbling groan from his end of the line.

You decide to speak up, wanting to hear his voice talk to you as he takes himself in his hand.

“What are you doing, Stevie? Tell me what you're thinking about?” You ask, starting to feel bolder the more that the phone call goes on.

“I’ve got my hand wrapped around my dick..and I-i’m working my fist up and down it, but like slowly..I kinda wanna go slow and just..feel it, y’know.” He huffs out little breaths as he tells you what he’s doing. “Thinking about you..I always do..thinking about that time where I took you on that date to the drive-in cinema, you started getting real handsy with me babe, remember?” 

His confession immediately takes you back to being in his car, with you leaning in close to him and kissing up his neck making sure to place small kisses on every little freckle and mole. Your hands wander over his jeans, rubbing over the growing bulge under the denim. That date had ended with you sitting in Steve’s lap, slowly rolling your hips over him whilst you made out, the movie playing going completely ignored as you both tried to stifle any noises and go undetected by the other movie-goers.

“Mmm..yeah I remember that..that was a fun night.” you sigh as your body melts into your bed, amongst the softness of the pillows. 

Your own hands begin to trail down your body slipping underneath the waistband of your panties, your fingers easily run over your folds, finding the wetness gathering there. A quiet whining moan slips from your lips, that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend.

“You touching yourself there, sweetheart?” Steve asks teasingly.

“Mhmm yes…” you blush at his question.

“Can you do something for me, sweets?” 

“What is it, Stevie?” your own fingers halting their movements for a moment whilst you listen to his request.

“Put your fingers in your mouth..suck on ‘em, get ‘em all nice and wet for me.” 

You do as he says, making a point to do so just loud enough so that he could hear you.

“Fuck..Sweetheart..” his moans are rising in his throat as he thrusts up into his closed fist.

“What do you want me to do now?” you mumble out as you pull your spit-slick fingers from your lips.

“Take your panties off, then slide your fingers inside yourself for me..please” He hadn’t meant for that to sound as needy as it did, but he desperately wanted to hear you pleasure yourself as much as he wanted to get off himself.

You slowly work one of your fingers inside yourself, whining at the feeling. 

“How many fingers are you using, princess?” 

“O-one..I’m so wet..please, Steve..” At this point you aren’t even sure what you’re begging for.

“You’re gonna have to use more than one finger if you wanna..fuck.. wanna feel as full as you do when you’re with me, sweets” he utters out breathlessly, the slick sounds of his large hand working over himself ring down the phone line. 

You slide another finger inside yourself, and moan at the stretch. Pressing on that sweet spot deep inside yourself with every pass of your fingers.

“Feel so full, Steve..”

“I know, baby..I know..Bet it feels real good though, yeah?” 

“Yeah..Feels so good..” you whimpered out, as you lean the phone between your shoulder to free up your other hand to rub quick circles around your clit.

Listening to your heaving breaths, and cries of pleasure Steve can only imagine how beautiful you must look, with your eyes screwed shut and your tits rising and falling with each breath as your fingers work to bring you closer to your high.

A few more passes of your fingers rubbing over your sensitive clit is what pushed you over the edge, coming with a long whining moan and your back arching off your bed’s mattress.

That's what does it for him. His closed fist worked to deliver quick short strokes over his sensitive head, spreading the bead of dripping pre-cum to help his fist glide over himself. He grunts out as he cums, his release splattering his lower stomach in a sticky mess, and dripping down his closed fingers, his mind going hazy from his post-orgasm high.

He barely hears your raspy voice on the other end, checking back in with him,  

“Are you still there, Stevie?” you laugh breathlessly. 

“Y-yeah..I’m still here, sweetheart..Just..wow..” he laughs to himself “I came so hard, sweets.” he smiles, his breath still trying to catch up with him.

You huff out a gentle chuckle "Me too, Steve"

"You're not too tired, are you, sweets?" He asks hopefully.

"Why?" You drag out, teasingly.

"Stay right where you are, baby. I'll be at your place in fifteen minutes, I wanna see you tonight."

You relax back into your bed with a grin, holding the phone to your ear.

"I'll be waiting"

[themorningsunshine]

My night demons

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary -  Soulmate AU -  In which one can see their soulmate's dreams and communicate with them through those dreams.

Or,where Bucky thinks there is not the slightest chance in the world that he has a soulmate but then why is there a girl constant in his nightmares, trying to calm down his night demons?

Warnings - Nightmares, some depiction of violence (lmk if you think there’s more) 

Word count - 5.9k (oops!)

Dreams are in italic. 

"Buck, are you sure it's not that?" Steve narrowed his eyes at his best friend as Bucky sighed and moved further into his chair as if that would make him disappear. He should have known this was a bad idea. He should have stayed quiet. Steve had enough on his plate already. He didn't deserve to be pulled into the mess that was his mind.

So, he shook his head and replied, "It can't be, Steve. It can't." He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than anybody else.

Steve looks at him like he doesn't believe him and it's one of those times when Bucky feels bad for him. Steve just wanted his best friend from the 40s back. The friend who was outgoing, charming and lived life like there was no tomorrow. Not this broken mess of a man he was now. But as much as Bucky tried, he couldn't get back to who he used to be. Because that felt like someone from a different lifetime. 70 years with Hydra does that to you.

So, Bucky didn't want Steve to be involved with this. With his nightmares. He had even gone as far as making his room noise proof so that Steve couldn't hear his screams in the middle of the night when the person Bucky was most scared of was himself.

But something about his nightmares was different now. They were still about the same things, the people he killed, the tortures he endured at hydra but there was something different.

It started a few months ago. It was just another of his nightmares when he saw it for the first time.

It was raining heavily but the soldier couldn't care less. He had been waiting for his target, hiding in this spot for hours. He just wanted to complete the mission.

When the man finally showed up, he took out of his hiding spot with a knife in his hand. He couldn't use a gun. That would gather unnecessary attention. He didn't give the man enough time to try to run away. The soldier was tired. But he wasn't sure if it was because of the waiting.

He pounced on the man and without wasting a minute. pierced the knife through his chest, exactly where he supposed his heart would be. The man fell down, dead, with not an ounce of life left in him. The soldier didn't even spare him a glance before walking away.

It was still raining. He didn't look back once towards the scene. There was no point. He had made sure the man was dead. There was no point in looking back. But among all the rain, something caught the soldier's attention.

It was dark and almost impossible to see anything but he still saw her. Maybe because of his heightened sense or because she looked completely out of place.

She had no business in this dark alley, not at this time of the night. The soldier wasn't supposed to look but he did. Maybe they wouldn't notice that he was distracted for a second but he couldn't get himself to look away.

She was standing in the corner of the street, in a yellow sundress, her pretty e/c eyes looking straight ahead. He followed her gaze to see that she was looking at the body of the man.

The soldier wasn't supposed to leave any eye witnesses. No proves of the crimes he had committed when almost the whole world was asleep. Did that mean he would have to kill her?

When he looked back at her, he was almost taken aback to see that she wasn't looking at the dead man anymore. She was looking at him. Staring right at him, like he wasn't a shadow which should have been disappered by now. And she still didn't run away, scared like she should have in the beginning.

Bucky woke up with a start, covered in sweat, breathing heavily as a small scream left him. Like almost every night, he should have been disgusted by himself. The weight of guilt heavy on his shoulders as he remembered all the people he did wrong.

But that day, he did none of that. He didn't try to go back to sleep or berate himself for screaming when he wasn't the victim there. He just closed his eyes, trying with all his might to remember the girl in the sundress.

He could swear he hadn't seen her before. Not in any of his nighmares, not at hydra and thankfully not someone he had killed. He desperately tried to remember something, anything that could tell him who she was.

Steve and Dr Raynor had suggested him to not think much about his nightmates and normally, he tried to even if his conscience told him this is the least punishment he could give to himself for everything he had done. But now, he had to think about it. He had a reason to.

The rest of the day had passed in a blurr. Even after trying to reach the deepest, darkest corners of his broken mind, Bucky couldn't remember a thing about her. He was certain he had never seen her before. But then what was she doing in his nightmare? The thing that confused him the most was how out of place she looked. The beautiful girl in the dark alley, wearing a yellow sundress, her eyes far from fearful even after witnessing his crimes. She was a complete contrast to everything his life used to consist of and to some extent, still did.

After a lot of thinking, he decided it was better to not think about it anymore. It wasn't like he was ever going to see her again.

But he couldn't be more wrong.

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It was almost a week later that he saw her again. In another of his nightmares. but this time it was differen't.

The mission had been tiring. Exhausting.

Maybe that was why they didn't strap him to that chair. Because they knew he wouldn't be able to take that. They had to keep him alive, after all. Their weapon had to be functioning.

So, a couple of guards excorted the soldier to his cell. It was simple. They would throw him in and after about a day when his wounds had healed enough, they would put him back in the ice.

But this time when they pushed him in and he almost voluntarily let his body fall on the floor, he noticed something about his cell was different.

Too tired to investigate, he had closed his eyes by exhaustion when he felt it. A presence near him. Not an intimidating one, though.  

He slowly opened his eyes and his blue orbs met e/c ones. He looked closely to realise it was her.

The soldier narrowed his eyes at her. She was looking as out of place here as she did in that alley, if not more. She was looking down at him and the soldier realised he was still lying on the floor.

"Are you okay?" That voice. It was the softest voice he had ever heard. Like a gentle breeze in the cold confines of this place. The soldier thought it was angelic.

"You are not supposed to be here." He said, choosing to not answer her question, but she didn't mind. Her eyes just held concern and worry.

"Neither are you." She replied and the soldier narrowed his eyes at her. This was his cell. He was supposed to be here but there was something inside him, something that told him she was right. That this isn't where he was supposed to be.

She looked down towards his arm and when her eyes landed on his severe wounds, her concern increased ten fold. The soldier swear he could see small tears pooling in her eyes and he had the sudden urge to tell her that he was fine.

"It's okay. I am fine." He whispered to her and hoped that she would believe him.

She just nodded her head and sniifled, trying to keep the tears at bay. He noticed that there was also anger in her eyes. Immense anger against somebody and he knew for a fact that it wasn't him. The way she was looking at his scars, he knew it wasn't him she was angry with, it were the people who had put him through this and he couldn't help but agree with her. "I hate them". He whispered again, his voice hoarse because of the lack of use and he realised this is the most he had spoken in.... well, as long as he could remember.

"That makes it the two of us." She smiled at him and the soldier felt his heart skip a beat, which was weird because he wasn't supposed to have one.

She just stared into his eyes and he felt like a warmth had surrounded him. A sort of comfort and warmth that he had never felt in this place. It was new, foreign but not a feeling he wanted to let go of.

He tried getting up to to sit straight but flinched when one of his wounds got rubbed on the hard floor below. He looked back up to see that she had taken a step towards him, her hands ahead of her as if she was about to touch him but stopped herself in the last moment.

Instead, she spoke, "It's okay. it's going to be fine. You aren't with them anymore. When you open your eyes, you'll be safe, away from them and they would never reach you. Everything will be fine."

The soldier narrowed his eyes at her as if he didn't understand what she was talking about, when the world around him suddenly started to blur and vanish around his eyes.

Bucky shot his eyes open. He was in his room, back in the compound. He would have told himself he was fine, that he wasn't with them anymore, that it was just a nightmare, but there was no need of that today. Because for the first time, he hadn't woken up from a nightmare with a scream.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• 

And that's how it was for a couple of months.

Every other night, Bucky would have a nightmare and almost all the time, she was there. Not as one of his tormentors or the people he had killed, but as his safe place. She was always right there, just when he needed somebody the most.

She calmed him down. Told him it was just a dream. That it was going to be okay. Her voice and her smile were the only things that kept him grounded amongst his night demons.

Bucky had stopped waking up from his nightmares breathing heavily or sweating. That feeling of guilt still weighted him down but he didn't berate himself anymore. In the darkness of his room, he didn't feel alone.

She had somehow managed to lighten up his darkest memories and before he knew, he didn't hate his nightmares that much anymore.

He sometimes wondered who she was. If she was even real or not. He knew one thing for sure that she wasn't a part of his memories. Maybe she was an imaginary figure conjured up by his mind for some peace. That should be it. She couldn't be real.

So, he talked to Steve about it and his best friend came up with the craziest idea he had ever got and considering the kind of ideas he got, it was saying something.

"No, like really, Buck, what if she is the one? What if she is your soulmate?" Steve asked for the fifth time that day and Bucky once again regretted his decision of telling him.

"Come on, Steve. That isn't possible and you know that."

"Why not, man? I don't see any other explanation to this." Sam spoke up from his spot on the chair in the corner of the room. It was a total accident that he had found out that morning too. Steve just couldn't keep his voice down while talking.

Bucky glared towards him. He had made him swear he wouldn't talk in this but Sam isn't really the kind of guy who listens. "You guys are being unbelievably stupid."

Steve sighed and kept a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Buck, she shows up in almost all your nightmares. She calms you down and you are telling me you have never seen her before. You can communicate with her through your dreams and there is a connnection there.  I don't see any other explanation than her being your soulmate."

This was Bucky's turn to sigh and move away. "It's not possible, Steve. I don't have a soulmate. I can't and you know that."

"Everybody has one, man. Accept it." It was Sam this time.

"Even if I had one, they would be dead by now. Long gone. There's nobody there for me and I am actually glad. Imagine having your soul connected to me. " Bucky humoroulessly scoffed.

"Then who is she, Buck?" Steve asked gently this time as if he couldn't think of a way to convince his friend that it wasn't the case.

Bucky didn't have an answer to this question. He couldn't explain who she was. He couldn't even explain what she meant to him. Why he felt at peace even in the darkest of the places when she was around. Why he wanted to believe her when she said that everything was going to be fine. Why even a small smile of hers could be the highlight of his day.

So, he took the easiest way out. He could continue believing that she wasn't real and that way he didn't have to think about anything. Not what Steve and Sam said. Not what would have been painfully obvious if he hadn't known better.

Then it all changed.  

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• 

The man was screaming. He hated when his missions did that. Shouting and begging like that would make him let them go. He would have if he had the choice to but he had to go back to them and tell them about the success of the mission. That was how it was supposed to be.

He held the man by his neck on the roof. He could throw him from there or stab him. But there was a slight chance he could survive the fall. He couldn't take that chance. They wouldn't like it.

Just as he was unbuckling his knife from his sleeve, he sensed it again. He didn't have to look to his side to know that she was here. She always was.

He looked to see that she was standing a little far from them. The same concern and worry shining bright in her eyes.

"You don't have to do this." She whispered to him. He could never get used to how comforting her voice sounded.

He shook his head and replied, "I have to." He then looked back to see the man but to his surprise, there was no body there anymore. It was like the man had vanished into thin air.

He looked around for the man but when she stepped towards him and slid to sit down with her back to the wall, it was enough for him to completely forget about the man. He just stood there for a moment before sliding down and sitting besides her.

"You know, you don't have to do this. You don't have to be here." Bucky whispered. He wanted to know if she was real. He wanted to know why she was here, with him. Why she hadn't run away if she could.

"I want to be here." She whispered back and Bucky looked up to see that she was smiling at him. That smile, that damn smile which made him even more sure that she wasn't real. Nothing so pure could be real.

He almost scoffed at her sentence. Wanted to be here? If he was being true to himself, he himself didn't want to be here. But if she would sit beside him with that smile on her face and the glint in her eyes, the cloud of darkness covering this place wouldn't matter anymore.

"I am sorry" He whispered lightly but in the middle of the night, he might as well have screamed it. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he explained, "I am sorry that you were a witness to that. All of them. You shouldn't be here." He was so sure of that. Was it a cruel game of the universe? To let him know how it would feel like to have her around, engulfed in her warmth, only to take it all away later?

Maybe this was the universe punishing him. To let the man drowning in the endless ocean have a log of wood to save himself and just when he thought things could get better, just when he had started to hope, take it away from him. That would hurt. Even after everything he had been through, he wasn't sure he would be able to handle that.

Hope was a cruel four letter word.

"I trust fate." She spoke again, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I don't think it will lead us on the wrong path. I like to believe I am exactly where I am supposed to be."

Bucky jolted awake. He wasn't breathing heavily or sweating profusely, but tears pooled in the corner of his eyes.

It couldn't be. How was it possible?

She was his soulmate.

She was his literal better half and she was real.

She was out there and she was his.

She was his and Bucky couldn't hate himself more when he almost smiled at that thought.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *

"I told you, Buck. Didn't I?" Steve nudged his best friend in the soldier.

It had been a week since Bucky had found out and he had not seen her since. He knew there was nobody else to blame except for himself.

In this week, he had tried his best not to fall asleep, specially not at night. When the sleepy feeling became unbreable, he would make sure that he didn't have a dream. Now that he knew that she was real, he couldn't do this to her.

Even if it meant him having a sore mood even worse than before the whole day. He doubted it was because of the lack of sleep.

Steve and Sam caught up on it pretty quick and started pestering him with questions when he finally gave in and told them that they had been right.

"Come on, man. You need to talk to her." Sam spoke up breaking his train of thoughts.

"I can't, Sam. She doesn't deserve to be dragged into this mess." Bucky replied with a sigh.

"You don't get to decide it for her, Buck. Sam is right. You need to talk to her. You have been going bad to worse this past week. Don't do this to yourself."

Bucky scoffed without the hint of any humour. "Decide? Have you not been listening? Has old age started to have its effect on you, punk? She is a part of my nightmares. She has seen me being him. She has seen me doing awful things. The first time she saw me, I was stabbing a man through his chest with a knife."

As much as he tried to hide it, Bucky saw Sam very slightly scrunching up his nose. He didn't blame him. He was disgusted by himself too.

"But she still stuck around. She came back again, Buck. That has to mean something. The universe has chosen her for you."

"Terrible for her." And Bucky meant that sentence with every fiber of his being. If he thought that the universe had been cruel to him when he hadn't died in that fall from the train, he couldn't imagine being her. Being so full of light, so gentle, so warm and being paired with somebody like him. Somebody whose brain was a mess. Whose life was a darkness that threatened to engulf anybody who came near. He truly felt bad for her. The least he could do was to try to stay away. Try to save her from the coldness he brought along. Try to not dampen her light with his life. Try to -

"But she chose you, man." Sam said after a long pause between all three of them.

As Bucky and Steve both looked up to him, he continued. "I don't know how it used to be back in your time but now, we form this connection with our soulmate willingly. This option to be a part of their dreams, to be able to communicate with them, brings with itself a choice of breking it too. Why do you think you are never a part of her dreams, Bucky? Because you never tried to make that connection. She does that because she wants to be there. With you."

Bucky's eyes widened as he stopped dead in his tracks. This couldn't be. Why would she want that? Why would she want to face his night demons? But there was another thought in his mind. Her dreams. How would they look like? He could bet they were nothing like his. There would be much lesser violence and much more colours, he thinks. But he would never know for sure. He couldn't be a part of her thoughts. That wouldn't be right.

"She has accepted you as her soulmate, Buck. It's time you do that too," Steve said looking intensely at his friend, trying his best to not let the huge grin take over his face. He was so happy for his friend. After everything he had been through, having a soulmate would be so much better for him. Somebody who would keep up with him, who could show him that there is lght at the end of the tunnel. Somebody he could love. And the thought that there was a girl out there, the most amazing person ever, according to Bucky, who was ready to be that person, not only because the universe decided it for her but because she wanted to. It filled him with exhilirating joy.

"I don't deserve her." That was all Bucky could say but that was the only thing that mattered. It didn't matter if she was a part of his nightmares willingly, he didn't deserve her kindness, nor her gentleness. Not any of it. Maybe she was too good to realise that but he knew who he was. Or more accurately, what he was. He used to be the man who was deprived of his humanity for decades, a weapon who killed people witout the slightest remorse, and now he was just a broken shell of a man he used to be, not something to cherish, not something to love.

"Stop that." Steve said with a finger raised towards him.

"I didn't do anything." Bucky replied with slight frustration in his voice. Not with his friend, but with himself.

"Stop thinking whatever it is that is going on in your head. You know it's not true."

Bucky let out a deep sigh. "Steve, you know it's not the same. We are not the same Brooklyn kids who thought about meeting our soulmates, about building a small house and spending our life with them. Times have changed, so have I." The idea of all that felt so foreign to him right now, he couldn't believe it was anything more than a fleeting thought of his past self. A self that died almost a century ago.

"But you deserve it, man. You deserve a second chance. A second chance at everything. Don't let it go." Sam said as he kept a hand at Bucky's soldier.

Bucky just stood up abruptly and walked out of the room. He couldn't talk about this right now.

Steve and Sam didn't understand but he did. They thought it wasn't his fault what Hydra made him do but they don't know the whole truth. They don't know how it feels. They don't know that he was there, all those years.

As a small part of his conscience, held as a prisoner in his body, being a spectator to the crimes he committed. That's what made him feel guilty. If he had fought stronger, if he hadn't been so weak, maybe he could -

No, he couldn't think that. He had to remember the words of Dr Raynor and Steve and Sam. None of it was his fault. It wasn't his fault. He didn't have a choice. He was a victim.

He desperately tried to convince himself of all that. That he wasn't just a weapon used by hydra, he was much more than that. He was James Buchanan Barnes.

He pulled at his hair, rubbed his eyes, let out a scream into his palms, punched the wall, which left a hole there, anything, absolutely anything that could ground him. That could convince him of everything everybody said. Until a voice echoed in his head, You don't have to do this, you aren't with them. Everything is going to be fine. More than the words, it was the gentle voice that did the thing on him. The soft voice that could silent all his internal screams and Bucky knew in that time, that he had to see her. To talk to her. Even if it was for the last time.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

His eyes opened and he expected himself to be in a dark alley, waiting for his mission, or in an abandoned building slitting somebody's throat, or even in the cells at hydra but what he saw was far from all this. As far as it could get.

He was in an open area. He heard it, before he saw it. The voice of water waves hitting at the shore. He looked around to realise he was standing at a beach. It was fairly empty, except for some very distant noises of children shouting, he thought he was pretty much alone.

Then it hit him like a truck. This wasn't his dream. It was hers. He was inside her mind and it was exaclty like he had thought it to be, calm and peaceful. Just like her.

This made his guilt increase even more. Why was the universe so cruel to her? Why was she paired up with somebody who could only give her darkness and screams for dreams when she offered this peace and comfort to everybody?

He looked around until his eyes landed on her. There she was, sitting in all her glory, sitting on the beach not far away from him, staring right into the sea, with a blissful smile on her face. She was looking at the open sea as if listening to it. As if it was answering her questions. Bucky wondered if the sea animals talked to her.

Before he knew it, he was walking towards her. Taking slow but steady steps. She looked beautiful. With the waves reaching her feet as she admired the beauty of nature, she looked like the epitome of everything his life wasn't.

As if on cue, she looked up and her eyes met his. Her smile spread and it was almost contagious. She looked relieved to see him. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought she was happy he was here.

When he approached her, she patted the land besides her, in an invitaion, a silent request. Something he could decline but who was he kidding? He would jump into the ocean if she asked him to.

He sat down besides her and followed her gaze towards the ocean. It was indeed beautiful. But none of the wonders of the world could compare to the girl sitting besides him. With a small smile on her face, her legs stretched towards the ocean, the wind slightly bristling her hair as it touched her face and Bucky felt an unjustified jealousy towards the winds and the ocean. How they got to caress her skin in the most gentle way possible. For a split second, he wondered how it would feel like to hold her.

They sat there in silence. It was comforting and Bucky thought he would let this silence swallow him whole.

"That was our holiday home when I was a kid." She whispered breaking the silence and Bucky noticed that she was looking somewhere in the back now. He followed her gaze to find a house, not so far away from them, a wooden house which looked like it was used by families as a weekend getaway.

He looks at her now and notices the longing in her eyes. It was like the home was something she cherished. She looks back and when her eyes met his, her expression didn't change and Bucky was taken aback. Why was she looking at him that way? Like he was something she could cherish. Like he was someone she could love.

Bucky shook his head and looked away as he whispered, "I am sorry."

She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion and when she was about to ask him what he meant, he continued, "I am sorry that you had to see my nightmares. I am sorry that you had to witness my crimes. I - I am sorry that I am your soulmate."

She was about to open her mouth to argue when Bucky interrupted her. He knew he would believe anything that fell from that mouth of hers and so he didn't want her to try to convince him otherwise. "You deserve better. You truly do. You don't deserve to face my night demons, just because the universe decided to play a cruel game of fate and make our souls attached. You don't have to do this."

She looked at him like she would have taken all his self doubt into her hands and thrown them into the ocean if she could. Like she wanted to convince him that everything he had said wasn't true. Like he deserved the world. But she knew it wouldn't do much good in trying to tell him that, so she told him something she had hidden for years,

"You know, for years I thought that I didn't have a soulmate. Like I was one soul in the world that the universe had decided wasn't worthy of another." She took a deep breathe and continued. "And I guess I had kind of accepted it. Accepted the fact that there was no one for me out there.

So, imagine my surprise when one night I am in a dream which didn't feel like mine. Like I was almost looking at it through somebody else's eyes. I saw a man being killed in the alley in front of me, not so far away and for a split second, I thought my soulmate was dead. It was a silly thought, but I wasn't thinking much anyways.

But when you turned around and looked at me, it felt like all the pieces had come together. Like I had found the missing part of my life and I can't describe the feeling, it was just... nothing like I had ever felt before."

Bucky stared at her in awe. He couldn't believe his ears. He had never thought for a split second that maybe, just maybe, it was the same for her. The feeling of comfort, of peace, of everything coming together, the feeling of home.

" It was so surreal, I didn't even know what to do. So, I just stood there, dumbfounded, unable to move. And then I woke up suddenly, in my room and I had known exactly what it was. But I was scared. It was funny. I wasn't scared that I had just seen my soulmate committing murder, I was scared that I would never see him again. Like it was just a cruel game of fate.

The next day, I saw your picture in the newspaper. I didn't even bother to read what it was about. I just could recognize those blue eyes anywhere. And then I realised who you were. James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky Barnes was my soulmate and I can't put a word to how I felt. It was a mix of emotions. There was exhilirating joy, pride, a mix of everything, but one thing that lingered in my mind was doubt. After everything you had been through, a soulmate was probably the last thing in the world you expected."

Bucky lightly chuckled at the irony. A soulmate was what he had least expected, but probably what he needed the most.

"I didn't want to burden you. You didn't deserve that." She said and that caught Bucky's attention. Burden? She could never be a burden to him. Did she realise that her being in his nightmares literally made him sort of like them? Did she know that after a bad day when everything felt like going to shit, her comfort brought him back. Told him this life was worth living. But he didn't say anything, She had more to say and he would never interrupt her.

"But then I saw you again. In another one of the dreams and when I looked at you, I could swear I could burn that place to the ground. That those people should have gotten a taste of what they did to you. And in that moment, I knew. I knew that I wanted to be there for you. With you. Even if you didn't want a soulmate, even if you didn't want me, I'd be there."

Bucky couldn't help the happiness that surged through him. He didn't berate himself this time when his heart skipped a beat thinking that she was his. That maybe the universe had taken pity on him and made her.

He had never been sure about a lot of things. But right now, here, he knew one thing for sure. He wanted her. He wanted to be with her. That maybe, if she wanted him too, the thought of being by her side for as long as he could, wasn't an unattainable dream after all. That maybe the saying that there is light at the end of the tunnel could apply to his life too. Maybe he didn't have to be in a nightmare to see her.

"I want you. I want to be by your side." He blurted before he could change his mind. And if the way she was looking at him in that moment was any indication, he had just made the best decision of his life. But he continued, "I just- I. am a mess. I-"

"It's okay. I'll wait. I have waited for you for years, what's a little more?" She said, that smile still adorning her face.

At that, he smiled. She knew exactly what was going on in his mind. He didn't have to explain anything to her. Maybe that was a part of their soulmate connection or he was just too easy to read around her.

And that was when Bucky knew, that she was right. Fate had led them to each other and he was exactly where he was supposed to be,

Then, she spoke up, breaking the silence, "Oh,, and Bucky, I am y/n."

And he looks at her like he just realised what love is.

And the sequel is here!!!  It’s called I think I saw you in my dreams once. 

[highsteddie]

The Bliss of After

Read it on Ao3 here!

The aftermath of sex is something Steve is used to. He’s a gentleman, obviously, so it goes something like this: make sure the girl is okay with a casual, “you good?” let her lean across his chest in a facsimile of cuddling while they catch their respective breaths (Steve Harrington wouldn’t leave a girl not breathless after all), then offer her a glass of water if they’re at his place or offer to sneak out before her parents come back if they’re at hers. He doesn’t let people stay over at his house anymore, not after the last girl freaked out when he woke her up screaming (he doesn’t blame her). He does always offer to drive them home though. Staying over when invited isn’t allowed either, obviously; Steve makes his awkward, half-baked excuses and takes his leave. Come to think of it, maybe it’s not such a mystery that he can’t seem to get a girl to stay past one or two dates.

But none of that matters anymore. Not now that he’s dating Eddie.

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

Eddie is . . . different. He’s a gentleman too, just like Steve, but Steve isn’t used to being on the receiving end of such things. Girls don’t hold doors open for him and bow him past them with a flourish. They don’t buy (possibly shoplift) him a stuffed turtle because it apparently looked just like him. They absolutely don’t smack him soundly on the ass whenever the urge strikes them, both in public and amongst friends, who make disgusted noises but don’t actually seem all that bothered. Okay, maybe that last one isn’t particularly gentlemanly but it’s Eddie, through and through. Steve loves it. Him. 

So yeah, sex with Eddie isn’t like sex with all the girls Steve’s had one night stands with, or even like it was with Nancy. Not that there was anything wrong with all those experiences but . . . well. Eddie is in a whole different league of his own. He has less general experience than Steve does, but hundreds of times more experience with men specifically. He knows how to make the nerves in Steve’s body sing the way no one has ever done before. It’s not gentle, the sex. Eddie explained the whole BDSM and sado/masochism thing to him and Steve had readily listened and agreed to all his rules about safewords and check-ins and nervously adjusted himself in his pants while they talked. 

He liked the way Eddie managed to tear him apart by holding him down and cooing in his face, “Aw, you like that Stevie, don’t you? You wan’t wait for me to turn you all cock-dumb,” and a million other filthy degrading things that should have sounded ridiculous coming out of Eddie’s mouth but didn’t. He liked the struggle too, how it didn’t matter what he did really, Eddie was the one in control and all Steve had to do was lay back and take it. There was something freeing in the surrender, and for their first time, even though Eddie tossed him around a little and said things that would make a prostitute blush, it hadn’t hurt at all, at least not in any ways he didn’t like. Not like Steve had been worrying about, you know, the whole insecurity of something going up his ass for the first time. Instead Eddie had made him feel amazing, and that was what Steve was riding on when he came floating back down into Eddie’s bed and into his arms.

Those were the first thing Steve became aware of, Eddie’s arms around him. They weren’t still; Eddie was never still, but rubbed his hands purposefully up and down, bringing feeling back to Steve’s skin. It wasn’t in the overstimulating way Steve had felt around his third orgasm, when he’d been sure he was about to explode into a pile of nerve endings, but in a soothing grounding way, like Eddie was making sure Steve still felt real. 

“Hey baby,” Eddie murmured, clearly alerted to the change in Steve’s level of awareness. Or maybe he’d just been talking this whole time. His hand moved up, brushed a strand of sweat dampened hair out of Steve’s eyes tenderly as they fluttered open. 

Steve kind of wanted to kiss him stupid. He also kind of wasn’t sure if he could move. 

“Eddie,” he said instead. It came out as a whisper. It seemed wrong to use any sort of volume in the darkened room, despite how much noise they’d been making just minutes ago. 

“That’s me.” Eddie ran his fingers through the rest of Steve’s hair, making him shiver. His fingers stilled and his arms tightened around Steve. “Are you cold?” 

“Nah.” Steve was finding it hard not to slur his words but he did his best. “It’s pretty hot in here. Jus’ feels really good.” 

Eddie’s hold relaxed. “Good.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Steve’s head. “You okay to hang out here while I get a few things? I’ll be right back, promise.”

Steve took his time to consider the question seriously, like he knew Eddie wanted him to. On one hand being held was really nice, on the other he was so out of it that he’d probably just doze until Eddie returned. Plus logically he knew there was post-sex cleaning to be done. “You’ll come right back?” he double checked, even though that’s exactly what his boyfriend had just said.

“Right back,” Eddie confirmed. “Won’t barely have any time to miss me.”

Steve was pretty sure that was a . . . a double negation? Or something? Robin would know. But Robin wasn’t here. Thank G-d. Steve almost laughed at the thought. Instead he said, “okay.” 

There was some gentle maneuvering as Eddie carefully moved from behind Steve and propped him up against pillows to replace his chest. They weren’t quite as comfy but it was still nice. 

Clearly audible noises came from Eddie puttering around the kitchen, some dishes clattering, the fridge being opened, a few muttered curses here and there. Steve focused on that as he closed his eyes again, relishing how it felt to drift. 

When he opened them again Eddie was re-entering the room, a large pitcher of water in the crook of his arm, his hands occupied by a cup full of ice, and an empty bowl. He also had several washcloths slung over his shoulder. 

Steve cocked his head. “What’s all that?” 

“For you,” Eddie said simply, as if that explained anything. He managed to put everything down, although not without some trouble. One of the washcloths went tumbling towards the pitcher as he leaned forward but Eddie caught it just in time in an unlikely display of reflexes. 

Some of the water got poured into the cup, which was then handed to Steve. The coldness of it shocked him into a little more alertness. He pressed it unthinkingly against his forehead.

“Super important to hydrate after so many orgasms,” Eddie said. His tone was serious but Steve could detect an undercurrent of smugness. “Plus you worked up a sweat.”

“I wasn’t the only one,” Steve pointed out. He took a long drink from the cup, surprised by just how thirsty he was. “That’s why you brought a whole pitcher right? So we both drink enough?” His brow furrowed. “Wait, were you planning on drinking out of the bowl? We can just share the cup.”

Eddie plucked the glass from his hand and put it next to the pitcher before diving in to kiss Steve. His mouth was hotter than usual, since Steve’s was still icy.

“You care about me so much Stevie,” Eddie breathed when he pulled back, something like awe in his voice, “but right now it’s my turn to take care of you, okay? You need more water or can I start cleaning you up?”

“I’m fine, I just want to make sure you drink too,” Steve insisted. “Then we can clean up.”

Eddie pecked him lightly on the lips once more before drawing away to swallow some water, keeping pointed eye contact with Steve as he did so. 

“Good?” Eddie asked. When Steve nodded he twisted away to pour water into the bowl, then dipped a corner of one of the washcloths into it. Everything made much more sense now.  “Might be a little cold,” Eddie warned. He pressed the wet part to Steve’s forehead, wiping away the dried sweat there. It was an incredibly soft washcloth, clearly worn with age and usage. 

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut and he couldn’t hold back a moan. He pried his eyelids back open with effort. “I can do this,” he protested, “you don’t have to-”

“Let me,” Eddie said softly. It wasn’t like the orders he’d been growling earlier. This wasn’t something he wanted Steve to do- this was something he wanted Steve to let him do.

Steve didn’t understand it but he hadn’t denied Eddie anything he wanted so far and he wasn’t about to start now. 

Eventually Eddie had wiped down every inch of skin, front and back, and massaged the feeling back into all parts of his body. He was painstakingly gentle, especially around any parts that might have been tender. It made Steve’s eyes sting with tears just a little. 

“All done,” Eddie announced, putting aside the cloth he’d been using to dry Steve’s skin after wiping it down to make sure he wasn't wet and uncomfortable. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” 

“Good.” Steve flopped back onto his back, reaching haphazardly for his boyfriend. “Can we cuddle more?” He tried to say it casually, not to betray how much effort it took to ask for something so simple. 

And it was simple. Eddie smiled and climbed back into the bed with him. “Of course. Wait, hang on,” he leaned over the side of the bed and returned holding Ozzy, his stuffed bat, victoriously. “You can come back in now,” he told the stuffed animal. “All adult activities have ceased.” And then he settled the bat in Steve’s arms and drew Steve back against him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve informed his boyfriend. “I love you.” It was the first time he’d said it, though it was the hundredth time he’d thought it.

Eddie didn’t even skip a beat. “I love you too.” Saying it, hearing it, it felt natural. “And you wouldn’t want me any other way.” 

[cherrycocaineee]

18. Sodapop - A Love All Too Real

*Warning - Smut; spanking, biting, dirty talk, hair pulling, car sex*

“My baby did so well.”

“Cum one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

*Sodapop’s p.o.v*

   Mickey Mouse was playing loudly throughout the living room, trying to muffle the sounds of the rain beating against the roof. It worked a little, distracting all of us from the brewing storm outside. Two-Bit was sitting next between Steve and I, completely mesmerized by his favorite showing playing on the screen. It wasn’t getting late but most of us were ready to pass out in the spots we sat in; me including, my heavy eyelids sinking each time I blinked. However, we were shaken away when there was a rapid banging noise on the door. I pushed myself up off the cushion and peered towards the closed door like all the others, wondering who could possibly be standing outside in this weather. The knocking came again, except this time with a voice behind it.

  “Seriously guys! Who else would be knocking at your damn door right now?!”

  It was Anni.

   Ponyboy hopped off the floor, leaving Johnny sitting there alone, and opened the front door quickly. Anni was standing there, her hand over her left eye, soaking wet from the rain fall. She glared at him.

  “Took you long enough,” she grumbled.

 “Sorry Anni,” he said, “we expected you to be at home.”

  “I was at home. I got kicked out.”

  When she stepped into the house, the multiple bruises on her skin, fresh blood was collected on her skin and clothes, and when she removed her hand from her eye you could see how bad it really was. Her eye was black and purple, and I could see that some of the blood vessels in her eye were popped due to the red color collecting in her eye.

  “Holy shit,” Two-Bit muttered, his eyes staying off the television now.

 No one cared about Mickey Mouse playing anymore, or how tired they were. We only cared about Anni.

She placed her bag down by the door as she passed Ponyboy, who was still in shock that he couldn’t even move to close the door. Steve did it for him, not wanting rain to get inside the house or on him.

  “Anni,” Darry said, standing in front of her, “this is the third time this week.”

  She looked at all of us before turning back to Darry, the unfazed look on her face never wavering, as she shrugged.

  “So?” She muttered.

 “So,” he continued, “you can’t keep livin’ like this.”

  Anni waved her hand in front of her, rather annoyed that she had to hear this again. Anytime she came over covered in bruises, Darry or one of us would tell her she couldn’t live with her dad again. It was always met with the same unfazed look on her face along with a light shrug of the shoulders. Anni crossed her arm over her chest; I noticed that she didn’t even wince. She was so use to the constant abuse and beatings that they didn’t even hurt her physically anymore.

   “Why not?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

 “Anni, you do realize that your eyeball is red right? Like the blood vessels in your eye have busted?” Dally inquired, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

 “Well yeah, I’m going to clean myself up and wait for it to heal like always.”

   “But what we’re sayin’,” I said, standing from my spot, “you don’t deserve to be beaten every time you go home. You deserved to be cared for and go to sleep safely.”

  Once more, I noticed that the unfazed look in her eyes never wavered. She was so numbed to the abuse it didn’t seem wrong anymore. Instead, she turned away from all of us, facing the open bathroom ready to head inside so she could avoid the problem.

  “Doesn’t matter to me. Lots of things shouldn’t happen but they do. People take what they want from me whenever they please; the want sex, they don’t have to ask they just take, if every night someone wants to beat the hell out of me so that they feel better then so be it. I’m nothing more than a toy; a disposable piece of shit that people tend to keep around until they’re done using me.”

  With those final words, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. My heart broke into hundreds of pieces after hearing her say those words. Anni wasn’t a bad person, she just never knew what it felt like to be loved and cherished. All I wanted to do was love and cherish her. To lay beside her at night and hold her. To pepper her face with dozens of kisses while caressing her small form. To just show her what it felt to be cared about instead of used. But she was so brainwashed into thinking she didn’t matter, that she was nothing more than a throwaway doll, that she couldn’t see it.

  Ponyboy wrapped his arms around him.

 “We can’t keep lettin’ her live there, Darry,” he said.

 “I know that, Pony, but unless she wants to leave there isn’t anythin’ we can do,” Darry said, “I’m goin’ to go make her somethin’ to eat.”

  That was a normal routine when Anni came over all beaten up. She normally wouldn’t have eaten for two days before the beating. I had asked her why she didn’t eat two days in advance and she told me that it helped her not throw up when her dad kicked her in the stomach. Once more breaking my heart as I heard her tell me that she could anticipate when the beating was coming and how to make it hurt less.

 I followed Darry into the kitchen, Steve and Ponyboy trailing behind me. He was already getting all of the sandwich stuff out, dinner having been served a while ago and with all of us here, there were no leftovers. I grabbed the mustard off the table and watched Pony take out some bread before spreading the yellow condiment on her sandwich. We worked in silence, not sure what we could say to one another. Darry was right; unless Anni wanted to leave her parents, to have a better life, there wasn’t much we could do.

   As soon as we finished making her sandwich, and Steve added half a pickle to the plate, Anni came walking in while drying her hair with the towel. She was wrapped in nothing but a towel. In the kitchen light I could see her bruises more prominent.

  “Soda, can I borrow some clothes?” She inquired.

 “Sure thing, doll,” I said, rinsing my hands off and following her to my room.

   I opened the drawer and took out a pair of gray sweatpants and a black wife beater that revealed a lot on the side. It was something I wore around the house when it was hot.

  “You know, Pony has clothes that might fit you better,” I joked.

 “Yeah, probably,” she laughed, “but they aren’t as comfortable as yours.”

  I handed the clothes to her, looking at her beaten up face. I frowned.

 “Does it hurt?” I whispered.

 “No more than it normally does,” she shrugged, “can you close the door on your way out? Please, and thank you.”

  Nodding my head, I left the room and closed the door behind me. Anni came out five minutes after wearing the sweats and wife beater I’d given her. It was much bigger on her than I’d expected, revealing all of her sides and if she moved her arms a certain way you could see the side of her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra, not that she needed one because her breasts were small and perky.

  A lump formed in my throat as I watched her. I had to force myself to look away. She plopped down on the recliner, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair as Darry walked in with her sandwich. He handed it to her and smiled.

 “Eat up, kid,” he said.

 “Thank you,” she said, smiling back.

Soon the rain went away; Darry had gone to sleep an hour ago, having to get up for work in the morning. Pony had fallen asleep on the floor beside Johnny, Dally left with Two-Bit to a party that was close by, and Steve was sprawled out beside me completely knocked out. His mouth was partially opened which made me laugh a little.

  Anni was still awake. She walked over to me, her arms folded over her chest.

  “Want to come outside with me?” She asked, “I need to smoke.”

 “Sure, come on,” I said, standing up carefully not to wake Steve or the others.

  I closed the door behind us and she shivered. The rain had made the air incredibly cold, and she was hardly wearing anything. Her pale skin glowed in the darkness, and in the small, illuminating porch light, I noticed that her nipples were erected.

 “Come on,” I said, leading her to Darry’s truck.

  We climbed into the backseat. I reached to the front and grabbed the spare keys underneath the visors. I turned the truck on and let the heater kick in so we could warm up. Anni was digging through her bag, removing a lighter and a container out. I watched her open the container and take out a joint. Anni didn’t smoke cigarettes, couldn’t stand the taste, but she did smoke weed and I was pretty sure it was because it numbed her from everything. I watched her light her joint and hit it, a cloud of smoke releasing from her perfect, soft, pink lips. The smell of weed collecting in the car and I knew I was going to have to air it out before we went in. Darry had the nose of a hound.

  She looked over at me and held out the joint, “want some?”

  “No thanks, doll,” I smiled.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she continued to smoke the joint. Her unwounded eye turned hazy and became a bit red. With each puff, she was getting higher and higher; this obviously not being the first time she smoked tonight. She slouched down in her seat, the shirt riding up a little bit. I guess I’d been staring too long because she faced me and raised her eyebrow.

  “Why do you keep staring at me like that?” She questioned.

 “Just takin’ in all of your wounds,” I whispered, half lying.

  She let her eyes land on the bruises decorating her arm before dropping it and taking another hit of her joint.

  “You know, I’m use to it but they still hurt like hell.”

  “You shouldn’t be use to it,” I muttered, “I hate seein’ you like this, Anni.”

  Anni put out her smoke, putting it back in her purse and folding her arms, “why?”

  “Because I care about you. Every time I see you all bruised up like this, it pisses me off. I swear if I ever see your dad-”

  “You’ll do nothing.”

  Our eyes met; hers cold, and distant, mine shocked, and sad.

  “If you do something it’ll only make it worse. I’ll just get beaten ten times worse than the last. He’ll do everything in his power to prove he’s got total control over me, and he’s right.”

  I reached over and touched her shoulder. She flinched a bit but I didn’t pull away; her skin was cool to the touch, the heater barely keeping her warm. Anni sighed.

 “It’s just how it is, Soda. Leave it be.”

  “How can I do that?” I asked, “you don’t deserve it.”

 “Because I’m not important, Soda!” She snapped, “if I left today, all of you would stop thinking about me! If I died tomorrow, you’d forget me as soon as you saw the next girl walk by! I’m replaceable! A nobody! Unloved!”

 “You aren’t unloved!” I yelled back, “and maybe to your shitty dad you're replaceable, but to me you’re irreplaceable! You’re so fucked up in the head, you don’t even know what love is because they’ve got you all messed up.”

  “So?! What do you want me to do about it!”

 “Let me show you what it’s like to be loved, Anni.”

  She started nibbling on her lip as I got closer to her. She didn’t move away from me though, as I leaned in closer and closer. The air between us almost felt thin, I could hardly breathe. I could see her chest moving up and down fast. Was she nervous? Scared? I couldn’t tell. My forehead pressed against hers.

  “I’ll stop if you want,” I whispered, “I’d never do somethin’ to you that you aren’t comfortable with.”

  It took her a moment to answer and when she was capable of doing so, it came out as more of a hushed whisper.

 “I’m fine,” her voice croaked, “you can continue.”

She was definitely nervous. My words, along with my actions, had her flustered and confused.

Nodding my head, I pressed my lips against hers. Her lips were just as soft as I’d imagined them to be. When I pulled away, it was only for a second, going back into and kissing her deeply once again, this time more passionately. I softly pushed her back, keeping my lips on hers, and crawled between her legs. Her hands reached up and wrapped around my neck, her fingers tangling themselves into my hair. A soft groan left my lips as I felt her fingers tug gently.

   I pulled away from her, a small amount of saliva pulling from our lips. Her eyes were hazy with lust and confusion.

  “I’ve got you, doll,” I whispered, “I promise.”

  She nodded her head. Leaning back down, I attached my lips to her neck and started leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along the nape. Softly sucking and nibbling on her flesh, I felt my cock harden at the sound of her breathy moans. A sound that I wanted to be familiar with forever. I bit down on her neck and she gasped, jolting forward, her chest pressing against mine. Her nipples were still hard. I swirled my tongue around the spot I bit down on before biting down on a different spot, repeating the process.

  “Soda,” she whimpered.

  It was the first time I’ve heard her sound so vulnerable.

  “That’s a good girl,” I praised, returning my attention to her face.

  The black eye didn’t bother me, neither did the blood in her eye. She was as beautiful as she always was.

  I grabbed the rim of my shirt and pulled it off, revealing my tanned chest. Her eyes lingered a little lower, her teeth biting her bottom lip while she scanned over my body. I chuckled then reached for her shirt. She lifted her arms letting me pull the shirt over her head, revealing her exposed, bruised flesh. I groaned at the mere sight of her breasts. They were perfect; like beautiful clouds. I barely licked one of the hardened nipples and her back arched, eyes rolling to the back of her head. I captured her lips with mine once again, this time kissing her hungrily.

  I pulled her off the seat and into my lap, breathing heavily as I started kissing down her neck again, tracing the purple hickeys I had left. My hands fumbled with my zipper first, my cock aching to be released from their restraints. Not bothering to lift her off of me, I lifted myself off the seat a bit and pulled my jeans down. Anni wrapped her arms around me, tugging my hair a bit as she kissed me hard. I grabbed the sweats she was wearing and dragged them down, my hands grazing her bare skin causing her to shiver. I loved watching her shiver after I touched her. It didn’t happen often with Anni, she hardly ever reacted to anyone touching her, so to see, to feel, her shake from my touch sent a rush of pride through me.

  Anni lifted herself off of my lap as I pulled her sweats all the way off. She was completely naked in front of me now.

  “God damnit, Anni,” I groaned, “so fucking beautiful.”

 A soft laugh left her lips as she watched me pull my boxers down finally releasing my growing member. There was no need to wait any longer, no need for foreplay, no need for me to poke and prod to make sure she was okay. We were both ready as if we'd been waiting for years. I lined myself up with her and pushed her down onto me, groaning at the feeling of her tight walls gripping me. Anni buried her head into my shoulder and moaned softly at the feeling of me filling her up. Only a second passed before I started thrusting my hips back and forth, our skin slapping against each other’s. Small pants were leaving her mouth as she gripped my shoulders tightly, keeping herself upright despite being drilled into. Even though I wasn’t going too fast right now, the position allowed me to bury myself deep into her sweet little cunt.

   “Holy fuck,” I moaned, “that’s it baby.”

  My pace quickened as she started bouncing herself up and down; the truck started to rock a bit at the movement happening inside but we didn’t care. Anni’s moans became more erotic and lewd; she sounded almost angelic and I loved that I was the one making her feel this way. Her head fell back as she continued to ride my cock, meeting each thrust coming from me. I moved my left hand up to the back of her head and pulled her hair a little, just enough to get her to face me. I didn’t want to hurt her. She moaned at the feeling of me pulling her hair.

  “Fuck, Anni, you sound so beautiful,” I groaned, pulling her closer by her hair so that our foreheads could meet, “such a beautiful girl for me, huh?”

  She could only nod, her body shivering.

  “Soda, I’m close,” she whimpered out.

  “Let it go, baby,” I moaned, “I’ve got you.”

 Those words with the quickening pace of our thrust sent Anni into euphoria. She screamed out, her legs violently shaking as she came all over my cock. I held her in place; one hand gripping her side while the other stayed tangled in her hair. I removed my hand from her back and smacked her perfectly, plump, sweaty ass. She yelped, rocking her hips into mine causing me to groan. Giving her ass a few more smacks, enough to pleasure her, I turned us over so that I was on top of her. My eyes danced across her sweaty body. I started pouring kisses onto her face and mumbling soft “I love you’s” as I continued to thrust into her faster.

  “Soda,” she moaned, “I can’t.”

  “Shh,” I whispered, holding back a string of curse words, feeling her walls tighten around me, “you can do it baby. Come on.”

   I slammed into her repeatedly; removing my cock all the way at the tip and then slamming back into her. Her eyes rolled back as her hips arched. I could feel myself getting closer to my climax as I watched her, feeling her dripping cunt swallow me over and over again.

  “Cum one more time for me,” I cooed, “I know you’ve got it in you.”

 Anni couldn’t form any more words, all she could do was nod her head and let me coax her with my sweet words. Soon her body spasmed again and her legs shook harshly. Her screams rippled through the air, but I didn’t bother covering her mouth to hide them. I didn’t care if people heard and I didn’t care if that caused people to come over to see what was happening; all I wanted was to be focused on Anni.

  “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” I croaked.

  My thrust becoming sloppier, I watched her body go limp as pools of sweat collected on her chest. I thrusted into her three more times before spilling my cum into her fleshy, pink walls. Coating every inch.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, “oh my God, fuck!”

  I stopped moving, unable to ride out my high for too long. Anni was panting hard. I pulled myself out of her and brought her to my chest. Rubbing soft circles onto her bruised back as she gasped for air.

  “I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

   When Anni finally did catch her breath, she rested her head against my bare, sweaty chest. A tired smile appeared on my face as I watched her look up at me.

  “My baby did so well,” I praised again.

  We stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like a lifetime. Her glistening skin glowed in the moonlight, the cool air chapping her dry lips making her lick them repeatedly, her breast heaving up and down as she took in large amounts of air. Her black hair was not sweaty and clinging to her beautiful face. I reached my hand down and stroked the bruise on her cheek.

  “I love you, Anni,” I whispered, “so fuckin’ much. You’ll never be replaceable to me. I only want you.”

  Anni chuckled and closed her eyes, she was definitely sleepy.

  “I’ll hold you to that, Soda. If you love me, maybe I can let myself love you too. It may take a while but I’ll do it for you.”

  Grabbing the blanket that Darry normally kept inside his truck, I draped it over us and sighed. She buried her head into my chest and let her heavy eyes close. The sound of my heart lulling her to sleep.

  “No matter how long it takes,” I said, “I’ll wait for you. I’ll help you love again because you deserve it. That and the world.”

   The sudden realization of Darry coming out in the morning to see us asleep, naked in his car with the lingering smell of sex, hit me. A low chuckle escaped from my lips. I knew I was gonna hear it in the morning, but right now, I didn’t care. It felt like it was just Anni and I, all alone. That’s what I wanted.

[buckyownsmylife]

Is she with you? - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky isn't used to being in the spotlight, but you're a welcome distraction

Warnings: celeb!bucky, slightly dominant reader, breeding kink, smut, praise kink, reader reminding bucky that he’s not a monster while believing her hips can cure him, (yes we all know what he really need is therapy), p in v, words of reassurance, crying during sex (but only like, two tears)

Word count: 1k

A/N: thought this would be a fun change for those of you who don’t read RPF! In a world where the Avengers are seen as celebrities, here’s how Bucky adapts to it ✨ Special thanks to @sinking-in-mercury​ for giving this a read for me!  This was written for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I was trying to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and these fics would be posted randomly, as I finished them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. This is one of the last ones I had ready to post. Hope you guys like it!

Bucky’s P.O.V.

Sighing as soon as the limousine’s door closed, I rubbed my face in an effort to get rid of all the noise and the white flashes that blinded me. I didn’t know why I kept going to these events. It’s not like I couldn’t just threaten Tony to leave me out of all of it.

But still, I persisted. Maybe it was Steve’s soft encouragement, maybe it was the fear of making myself more of an outcast by being the only one who refused to participate. I honestly didn’t know.

What I did know was that at the end of the day, there was one good thing about all of those fancy galas and celebrity events. And that was her.

Seeing her all dressed up was always a given. Well, any day I got to spend by her side was a given, but getting to take her as my date to those fancy events, seeing her eyes widen at getting to meet the people she admired, it all made my heart grow twice its size.

God, I loved her. I loved her, and I couldn’t believe she was all mine.

“How are you feeling?” She asked once I was able to relax back against the seat. I looked to the side to find her smiling patiently at me, her eyes denouncing just how worried she was.

She knew better than anyone how these things affected me, so when I reached out for her hand, she came willingly, settling over my lap after glancing at the partition to make sure the driver wouldn’t see our new position.

“I’m better now that I’m between your legs.” Her answering giggle had my heart jumping, skipping a beat when she bit her lip and looked up at me from under her eyelashes. “Have I told you that you look fantastic tonight?” She really did. Her golden gown had a slit on the right that allowed me to palm her thigh, squeeze it to hear her adorable little surprise gasp.

“Yes, you have,” she informed me. “Countless times.” The little addition had my lips twitching up, amusement clear in my features. Tilting my head, I thought about teasing her, asking her if she was getting tired of my endless comments, but I refrained from doing that.

There was something much more important in my mind. Somewhere I needed to be, urgently. With that in mind, I chose to remind her, “You’re the only thing that makes this entire thing worth it,” while unzipping my slacks and pulling her underwear to the side. Then I was inside the warmest, most perfect tightness I’d ever felt.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I tightened my grip on Bucky’s shoulders, silently pleading with him to wait for a bit as I adjusted to his thickness. Even after so many times of having him, the first invasion still hurt me - but I adored the pain. The stretch was as close to heaven as I believed I could get, so I took every opportunity I had to relish in it.

When I opened my eyes again, it was to find his eyes darkened as they stared at me, always reflecting his state of mind. He could never hide it from me - not his demons, not his nightmares, never the way he felt about himself.

I always knew what was going through his head, which is why I knew what he needed from me right then. “You know no one hates you anymore, right?” I asked as I started to undulate my hips on top of his, clinging to the lapels of his suit as I set out to ride him with all I had.

If I couldn’t make my words settle deep in his brain, the very least I could do was fuck his brain stupid, leave him pliant and soft underneath my fingertips for every word of praise I had to give.

“Everyone knows you were one of the victims, Bucky,” I reminded. “You’re a good person, baby. And I love you. I love you so damn much.” He panted at my words, head falling back against the seat as I kept on rising my hips and letting them meet his once more. Goddamn, I was so fucking wet.

Only Bucky could get me like that. So I’d do anything for him. I tried to cure all the injuries his soul had sustained with each roll of my lips, leaving him breathless, hoping to make him want me even more.

Because that’s what he did to me.

“You’re never gonna leave me?” He asked, breathless and sweaty, but eyes still fiery as they met mine.

“Never,” I reassured him, not stopping my movements for even a second. “I’ll be yours forever, honey. I never want to live without you.” My words had him groaning, teeth carving patterns on his bottom lip as he struggled to contain himself - or so I thought.

“Does that mean you’ll let me cum inside of you?” He asked, bright eyes searching mine for any indication as to what my answer would be. “Give me a family? Show everyone that you’re mine and mine only?”

The idea was so surprising it lit a fire inside of me, adding to the one of desire that was always burning whenever Bucky was near. I gasped and moaned, trying to plead with him so he wouldn’t make me say it, hoping he’d understand what I wanted and needed without any words, but he wasn’t having it.

“Tell me, baby,” he insisted. “Tell me you want to have my baby.” His words were my undoing, but not only because of the meaning behind them. His tone also did something for me, the way they came out all whiny, like he was a little kid begging me for a treat.

I’d give him anything he wanted.

“Yes, Bucky,” I relented. “Give me your cum. I want to give you a child.” I knew he was cumming even before I felt the warm ropes shooting inside my sensitive channel. Tears - of relief, or maybe it was pleasure, I couldn’t really tell - ran down his cheeks as he slowly moved me on top of him, milking his own orgasm until he had nothing to give anymore.

“You take my cum so well,” he complimented after our eyes connected, a boyish smirk on his face that I was quick to kiss away.

“It’s ‘cause it belongs inside of me.”

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : You Again

Summary: It’s been years since seeing each other and a lot has changed.

Genre: Fluff , Mentions of Smut

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 2,478

* * * * * * 

Green eyes discreetly watch their surroundings as the redhead makes her way down the street. She purposely avoids stepping too close to anyone.

Her hand shoves into her pocket to retrieve her vibrating phone. A blocked number displayed across the top of the phone telling her exactly who is calling.

Turning down an empty alley, she answers.

As expected it’s Fury requesting that she come in and she agrees without hesitation. The call ending just as she’s on the other side of the alley. 

The second someone collides into her shoulder she tenses and levels them with a glare. 

E/c eyes instantly flicker over her form,“ I’m so sorry I’m in a bit of a rush, are you okay?” The voice belonging to the offender sounds wildly familiar, causing the redhead to frown and look up at their face. 

The woman in front of her raises an eyebrow, a concernedly soft smile tugs at her lips.

“I-I’m fine.” Natasha says, the frown still deep on her face. 

Nodding, the h/c takes a small step to the side, and continues to rush down the sidewalk.

The encounter remains in Natasha’s mind until she gets to the compound. She just can’t shake how familiar the woman looked. Those eyes were ones she swears she’s seen before, that voice pulled at something seemingly buried deep in her memory.

It’s not until she’s standing in front of Fury himself that she let’s the thoughts ghost away.

“You took your sweet time Romanoff.” He says with a stone face, but knowing him for years allows Natasha to detect the teasing in his tone. 

Moving her curls over her shoulder with a shake of her head, the redhead smirks,“ I was in the city Nick.” 

He nods in understanding.“ Well now that you’re here, welcome to your new assignment,” he holds a file out to her.

She accepts it and flips it open. The frown from earlier returns as she looks at the list of recruits, the same familiar face from earlier stares back at her from one of the many pictures. 

“Don’t tell me all your Avenging has made you too hot for recruit training.” Fury teases once more.

“No just- where’s the file on recruit seventeen?” Her inquiry makes Fury raise his eyebrows, head raising in further curiosity. 

However he searches through the stack of files on his desk,“ lucky for you they haven’t been processed yet.” He hands her yet another file and she tries her best to refrain from frantically flipping it open.

The second she sees the name at the top her breath hitches. 

There’s no way it’s you. 

* * * * * * *

Perched behind the ledge on the building’s roof, Natasha once again peaks through the scope of her sniper. 

“I’d truly appreciate if you didn’t kill him. Not until he’s answered my questions at least.” 

The voice put Natasha on guard instantly. She can’t recall the last time someone had snuck up on her.

Spinning around, a stoic expression plastered on her face to hide her true emotions, Natasha comes face to face with a woman nearly four inches shorter than her. An amused smirk plays on the woman’s face and it instantly irritates Natasha. 

“I’m afraid your questions will have to go unanswered.” The redhead replies, just waiting for a challenge. 

The woman’s hands raise in a show of harmlessness,“ I won’t make your job harder, I imagine if you’ve been looking for him as long as I have this is a rare opportunity.” Nonchalantly she comes closer, raising a questioning eyebrow as she points at the sniper’s scope. Natasha frowns but nods, watching as the woman looks through it.“ What if you just took out his legs. I go in, ask my questions and you finish your job after I’m gone.”

“What makes you think I’m willing to help you?” 

“Isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do, help people?” An eyebrow raises at Natasha.“ Come on Black Widow, you scratch my back I scratch yours.” 

Green eyes narrow at the use of her alias. Something tells her that her identity was known before she was approached.“ Who are you?” She asks. 

“Ooo introductions, fun. I’m Y/n but you can call me Ghost.” You hold your hand out to the redhead.“ I work special operations for a private organization. As mentioned, I’m just here to get some answers. Your target is a scientist gone rogue, if I don’t speak to him a lot of people could get hurt, myself included.” 

Natasha’s head raises, eyes scanning your face for any hint of deception.“ I know who he is.” It’s not surprising that someone else is after the doctor, just surprising that someone found him when she did. 

Taking a risk, unlike anything she’d ever do, she agrees to help. 

A plan quickly forms between the two of you that executes perfectly. You get your information and she takes out her target, both of you gone without a trace. 

“You know, we made a pretty decent team.” A teasing smile hits your lips as you glance at the woman beside you. 

“Don’t get used to it.” For the first time tonight, a smirk plays on Natasha’s lips. 

Chuckling, you nod,“ since we’ll never see each other again, how would you feel about a celebratory drink?”

Once again, she finds herself taking a risk.

* * * * * * *

Natasha pulls herself from that train of thought before she can dive into the remaining events of that night, though she can faintly remember the feel of your hands across her heated skin as whispers of her beauty left your lips. That wasn’t even the last night it had happened, what you did to her left her hooked.

So much so that it became a regular occurrence for her to end up in your bed when she was assigned to missions in Canada. Connecting with you in bed inevitably lead to a stronger connection emotionally. 

It stumped Natasha how you’d managed to get through her facades as if it were nothing. Even more so than that, she wasn’t expecting you to understand her so well, not even her closest friend, the man she considers her brother, understood her the way you did. 

But then the Avengers became a thing and she wasn’t sent on missions to Canada anymore. 

“When was she recruited?” Natasha asks, finally looking up from the picture of you.

“A few months ago, she found us and that,” the man chuckles impressively,“ that’s impressive on it’s own.”

With nothing more to say to Fury, Natasha nods non verbally accepting the mission, and leaves out. Heading straight to the elevators that would take her to the training floor. 

Common noises of the compound could be heard: another group of trainees outside with Sam and Steve, faint sounds of orders being shouted, occasional drilling sounds. 

Stepping into the training room, Natasha’s eyes scan the small group of recruits, and land on you. 

No wonder she wasn’t sure if you were familiar or not. Last time she saw you, you were shorter than her, just as skinny. Now you’re almost a foot taller, more meat on your bones as defined muscles. 

Your eyes land on her and you smirk, winking just barely. 

Of course you recognized her, only difference in her is the length of her hair. Those enticing green eyes are still just that, curves still accentuated by the leather catsuit, expression just as stoic as the night you met. 

Calling the recruits into order, Natasha runs through the basic entry speech, words of intimidation and motivation spoken to reach the hearts of those who aren’t ready and those born ready. She can easily detect who won’t last longer than a week, you aren’t one of them.

“Pair up, combat training begins now, if you can’t take down each other you have no business in the field.” She says, then looking you dead in the eyes,“ seventeen you’re with me.”

Nodding, you follow her over to a set of mats near the window, stepping up to face her head on. There’s just enough time to release a single breath and then she’s attacking. To anyone else she does so with movements as calm as the wind, each strike or counter move executed with precision. 

But you, you know her in a way nobody does, nobody ever has. It allows you to see the slight irritation in her punches, the anxiousness and curiosity in her eyes. It’s how you see that her guard is back up in regards to you. 

You let her get the upper hand, yes let, just so she can pin you to the mat, your arm behind your back in her grasp with her mouth to your ear. 

“Whatever you’re worried about Romanova, let it go. I’m not here with any bad intentions.” You speak, voice as smooth as the day she first heard it.

Her eyes narrow,“ so why are you here?” 

“To see you.” You smile only to grunt when her arm presses into the back of your neck.“ Okay okay. I left the last organization once it fell into the wrong hands, HYDRA’s hands. I found out through some reliable sources that the Avengers were hunting down HYDRA. After what they did to me, what they may still be doing to my friends,” Natasha’s grip has long since loosened, allowing you to shift slightly,“ I have to stop them.”

Releasing you completely, Natasha pops up and offers you a hand of assistance.“ What did they do to you?” 

A snort falls from your lips, your arms spreading out,“ don’t tell me it's been so long you don’t notice. Maybe if I-” playfully you squat down to the height you used to be. You smile when you see the slightly amused smirk on Natasha’s lips, accompanied by an eye roll.“ They made me Captain America 2.0 and at first I was with the idea, until I got word of what their true intentions were.”

“They wanted you to be a weapon.” She understands. If no one else ever will, she does. You nod solemnly and the ex-assassin sees how much you’re torn up by the corruption of the organization. It’s like looking in a mirror, that’s exactly how she felt about SHIELD collapsing. 

With present company around, you both agree to talk after training, Natasha telling you to come to her quarters after you’ve checked in. 

So for the time being you focus on training, nailing the hand to hand combat with Natasha before being handed over to Sam Wilson for basic exercises and a run around the compound, where you’re shown the trainee’s residence. 

After checking in with the agent in charge of your training group, you shower, change, and head to the main building in search of Natasha. 

It doesn't take long to find her since you follow her directions perfectly. 

Looking around at her luxury apartment like quarters, you can’t say you expected anything less. Of course Tony Stark made sure his teammates had more than adequate accommodations. 

“Always early L/n.”

The redhead’s familiar sultry voice grabs your attention, causing you to spin around from the window to look at her. 

She’s as gorgeous as she’s ever been. Admittedly the long hair suits her better, still damp from the shower she obviously just took and falling down her bare shoulders. Subconsciously your eyes trail down her tank top and yoga pants covered form. 

“Eyes up here.” She further teases and your eyes snap up to hers.

“Sorry it's just- you look good Romanova. Really good.” You say breathily.

The urge to just dive head first back into your charm hits Natasha hard. She’s seen you for all of a day and apart from your physical, you seem to be the same person she was falling for all those years ago. The only people she’s ever fallen for.

In the next few minutes, Natasha makes coffee, telling you to wait in the living room for her. Only to return shortly after to hand you a cup, and ease on to the sofa. 

Pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her butt, she faces you as you sit beside her, a noticeable distance between you two.

“How long?” She asks almost cautiously, clarifying when you raise your eyebrows.“ How long have you had your abilities?”

“Three years.”

A heavy sigh leaves her lips. Two years after she left HYDRA took over your organization and turned you into a super soldier. She can’t help but wonder what may have happened if she were still around. 

Would you have needed her comfort? Could she have stopped it?

Suddenly a weight lands on her knee, a glance down revealing your hand comfortingly resting there.“ There’s nothing you could’ve done. I wanted the serum, just not for the reasons they gave it to me.”

She silently nods, eyes casting back down to the hand on her leg. 

Whether or not she mentions it out loud, she missed your touch, even the ones as simple as this. Something about the way your touch affected her, be it arousing or calming, occasionally featherlight with the intent to cause laughter from the usually stoic woman. 

A mental sigh brings the thought to the forefront of her mind. It’s not just your touch, it’s you as a whole. Your energy, your aura, your personality, your smile. 

How she’d gone five years without you?

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she looks back up into your soft eyes, hurt hides in them that makes her frown and nod.“ Did you ever consider coming back? Or even contacting me?”

The look that crosses her face is answer enough but she still says,“ more often than you’d think. In the beginning, all I could think about was going back to you and never leaving. I considered finding you just to say goodbye.”

“Talked yourself out of it huh.” It’s a statement not a question. Another nod to how well you read her.“ Figured I was better off without you and the enemies you come with, even if my life was dangerous long before you.”

She shakes her head, chuckling at how easily you saw through her reasoning when she hadn’t even admitted it herself.“ Can I contribute that conclusion to you having mind reading abilities?” 

“You can if it’ll make you feel better but it’s not true,” your thumb smooths across her knee in the same way it always had.“ I never had to read your mind.”

Much like she always had when it came to you, Natasha allows herself to take just one more risk. She let you in the first time, hopefully this time would end better or not at all.

Laying her hand over yours, her fingers wrap around your hand,“ I’m really glad to see you again.”

* * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers

[lokislastlove]

Best Laid Plans (Fluffy Bucky x Reader) p3

Summary: Bucky is determined to woo you properly, no matter how rusty he is at dating these days.

Warnings: Some smut at the end, oral (fr), Bucky has bad luck, but we love him anyway. 18+ only please.

This is my first attempt at Fluff, it is not my strength, to say the least, so by all means ignore this. @saiyanprincessswanie I wrote this for you, I hope you like it and with any luck maybe it brings a tiny smile to your face when you need it. 💕 Also remember this is fiction, I know Bucky’s arm is fancy as hell and has no flaws.

Chapter 3 -

🌹 The Third Date 🌹

The office is abuzz with rumors of your new romance. For obvious reasons Pepper never shuns coworkers dating, but does caution that she expects everyone to remain professional regardless of the outcome. Bucky is one of the most sought after bachelors in the building so naturally people notice when he fixes his attention on you. For the two days following your fruit-filled frolic in the hills Bucky is constantly around. He brings you coffee, flowers by the dozen every day, saves you a seat during the meetings, cooks you lunch and even brings Kal in to see you.

“Okay, I can’t wait any longer. You willing to give me that second chance, tomorrow?” Bucky bursts into your office an hour before you leave Friday evening.

You gasp as the door slams against the wall and he cringes, “uh, sure. I’m free tomorrow. Should I just go ahead and wear my yoga pants?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And no. I let Steve pick the date idea this time. Just don’t wear anything that you don’t want getting a little dirty,” he winks.

You let out a sigh, “wouldn’t it be easier to just tell me what we’re doing?”

“That’s no fun, Angel.”

——

The next morning you wake up to a text from Bucky, just like you have every morning since your first date.

Good Morning, Beautiful! Can’t wait to see you today. I’ll pick you up at 11am. 😀

Bucky has managed to make waking up a highlight of your day, something you never thought possible. Plus you got him to start using emojis, which Steve claims he will never forgive you for.

You choose some dark wash jeans and a V-neck t-shirt with a jacket and boots. Stylish but casual, you feel good, excited to find out what adventure Bucky will be dragging you into this time.

Your phone dings as you race out the front door and gulp when you see the bike again. God he looks good with it though, his light brown leather jacket highlights his olive skin and his dimpled smile has you swooning as you reach him. Determined to get a hang of this motorcycle thing you jump on back and cling to Bucky with a bit more confidence today.

Bucky reigns in his speed this time, and you find yourself enjoying the rush of the wind on your face and the warmth of him in your arms. To your shock Bucky leads you to a ceramic shop not far from Avengers tower, specifically for couples pottery class.

“Steve assures me that this is supposed to be fun and romantic,” Bucky says as you find yourself sitting next to him on a dirty stool with a spinning round table in front of you.

“Steve hasn’t been watching old romance movies again, has he?”

Bucky squints at you, “Actually, yeah but he said it had ghosts in it, and I got enough of those.”

You grab his hand and give it a squeeze before taking a deep breath, “Ok, let’s do this!”

It takes about a minute to realize what a terrible idea this is as Bucky curses under his breath and his arm starts making strange whirling noises.

“Oh shit, uh is clay good for your arm?” You ask, nodding at the way the plates of his metal arm seems to twitch and groan as the wet clay slide and congeal between them as they shift.

“Fuck,” Bucky curses as he shakes out his metal arm and you grimace at the worrisome noise it makes before it stops moving all together.

“Do you want to take it off?” you offer.

Bucky looks frustrated with a hint of panic as he sits there contemplating the best move. He still isn’t very comfortable going without his arm in public.

“Or we could just decide not to take Steve’s dating advice anymore and go back to the tower and get cleaned up?” You laugh and bump him with your elbow.

He scoffs out a laugh, “yeah. You know I used to be the one that was good at this stuff, I was the charming one who helped get Steve a date.”

“Oh is that so? Well I think you’re doing better than you think you are,” you smirk.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, now come on Casanova,” you stand and wipe your hands on the towel nearby.

You can’t help but laugh as you follow him out the door, looking at the light gleam off the metal that isn’t covered in clay.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just… gonna be hard to convince me you’re not a complete mess after this one.”

——

You could tell Bucky’s confidence had taken a major hit, well three major hits to be honest. And while he constantly berated himself for everything that went wrong, you couldn’t help but love him even more with each blunder. And when he doesn’t insist you give him another shot after that disastrous pottery date, you seek out Steve’s advice.

“Do you think I should try to make a move? Ask him on a date maybe? Or is that insulting to … men from your era,” you finish awkwardly.

Steve laughs softly, “I think Bucky could use a sign that you aren’t willing to give up yet. You should give it a shot, as long as it’s what you want and not just out of pity.”

“Of course it’s not out of pity, you really think I’d do that?” you ask, trying not to get too offended.

“No, doll, of course I don’t. But that’s likely what he’s going to think.” He placates and gives you a knowing look before walking out of your office.

You push back your shoulders and pull out your phone to text Bucky.

Hey if you’re free tonight you should come over to my place. Maybe around 8pm? No dress code. 😘

🌹 The Fourth Date 🌹

Bucky arrives at 7:50pm that evening and you push the buzzer to let him in. You leave the door cracked for him and finish the final touches.

“Angel?” He calls as he knocks and you hear the door creak open. “Uh, hello?” His voice falters as he closes the door behind him and takes in the candles neatly arranged along a path of rose petals.

You hear him remove his heavy boots and call your name as he follows the path further into your apartment and closer to where you’re waiting for him. You shift nervously on your feet as you wait with baited breath for him to appear around the corner.

“Angel, what’s going..” His voice gets caught in his throat as he stands in your doorway and sees you waiting for him.

You’re wearing a simple nightgown, a silky robe and stockings. The thin straps and sleek material drape softly over your curves, enticing enough to make him pause but not overly revealing to be considered scandalous. You didn’t want to be too bold and scare him off too fast, or make yourself appear too desperate.

“Hi, Bucky,” you smile as you watch his pupils dilate and his chest strain against his shirt as his breathing gets heavier.

He clears his throat and his cheeks glow pink as his eyes flick up to meet yours, “uh hey, Angel. Am I dreaming?”

You laugh as you take a few steps toward him and he mirrors you, “I just thought that maybe I’d surprise you with a date, this time. If you’re up for it.”

“Well, I will admit that my interest is quite peaked already.” He jokes, his eyes roving down your body once more as he gently takes your hands and holds them out to get a better look at you.

You giggle and rolls your eyes, “Nothing crazy, just a simple movie date, and I have the perfect set up. Follow me.”

You pull him over to your bedroom window and climb out onto the fire escape, he follows closely, his curiosity climbing with each creaky step.

“You sure this is safe?” He asks as the stairs rattle under his weight.

“No,” you say simply as you reach the top, “but it’s worth it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes in the rooftop space that you’ve meticulously decorated for him. Strings of lights hang on the low rooftop walls. A large air mattress is tucked between the pipes and vents, facing a large projector screen. You made sure to add mountains of fluffy pillows and soft blankets to keep you cozy under the stars.

“This is amazing,” he mutters as he eyes the plate of snacks and bottle of wine waiting on the bed.

“I know, isn’t the view amazing? I’ve always loved it up here, but I didn’t know it had this much potential until now,” you remark as you look out onto the glimmering view of the city skyline.

Bucky’s fingers slip between yours and curl sweetly as he guides you over to the soft bed. He flops down and settles in before opening his arm for you to join him. You grab the remote and the wine and curl up next to him. Drawing up your legs and letting them rest against his muscular thigh.

“I don’t deserve all this,” he utters sadly as he watches you pour the wine.

“Steve said you’d say something stupid like that,” you laugh as he looks stunned for a moment. “So let me just settle this right now.” You take deep breath and let it out with a quiet huff.

“I have been the happiest I’ve ever been since you asked me out on that first date. I look forward to waking up every morning knowing I’ll get to see you and possibly, maybe, do more than just ogle you from afar. Oh don’t look at me like that!” You laugh and smack Bucky’s shoulder when he smirks at you and wiggles his brow.

“I know you think you blew it after our first three dates but all I remember is seeing a passionate man willing to chase down a dog through the mud, even if it meant embarrassing himself. I remember you saving me from a potentially fatal injury, and I remember a man so desperate to impress me that he took advice from Steve Rogers,” you bite your lip as you watch Bucky choke out a laugh at your jab at his best friend.

“You may think all of these moments are flaws, but honestly I wouldn’t want to change a single thing. So let’s just –” Your speech is cut off when Bucky’s hands are suddenly on the side of your face and pull you in for a blazing kiss.

It’s as though you’ve unlocked something in him as he devours you, his tongue trailing across your lip and delving into your mouth when you open for him. You moan as his hands slip down to your neck, his thumbs pressing ever so slightly on your pressure points before he pulls away just enough to kiss and nibble along your jaw. The pleasure and passion is dizzying and you feel your body bend to his will. Your hands grasp at his shirt as he nuzzles and sucks along your neck now, making his way to your clavicle.

The feather pillow braces your head as Bucky lays you down and hovers above you, his body heat warming you as the cool night breeze tickles over each spot he kisses.

“God, Angel, you have no idea how badly I want you right now. How badly I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groans against your chest, dragging his nose over the thin material between your breasts.

“Me too,” you breathe.

You push at the lapel of his jacket, trying to urge him to take it off. He sits up, fixing his eyes on you as he slowly strips off his coat and tosses it away, followed by his shirt immediately after. Your breath hitches as you let your fingers lightly glide down his stomach, feeling every ripple of firm muscle under his heated skin.

“Wow, the girls at work would be so jealous right now,” you kid.

“I’m almost offended that you think this is my best feature,” he scoffs gesturing to his stomach, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“By all means, show me more. I did come up here for a show after all,” you tease, tilting your head and biting your lip as you eye the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, I think I know how to keep you entertained,” he smirks and lowers himself over you, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin as he dips lower down your body.

You look down as he pauses over your quivering center and lifts the hem of your dress up to reveal your lace panties. He growls lowly and hooks his finger under them, pulling them quickly to the side. You twitch as he blows lightly over your lips, the cool air hitting the slick arousal already pooling between your thighs. He chuckles as you grip the blankets tightly and he pushes his long thick tongue between your folds, circling your bud at the top. You let out a long moan as his fervor increases, the feeling of his rough tongue dipping into your dripping hole and then back up to flick over your clit is driving you closer and closer to the edge.

After the past two weeks of the most intense sexual tension you’ve ever experienced it doesn’t take much for him to have you squirming under his touch. Your toes curl and a broken scream echoes over the rooftops as you come on his hungry lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos as your eyes flutter open and see him hovering over your face once more.

Your jaw slackens, pupils blown as you take in his debauched state, his tousled hair, lips and beard glistening with your come. You reach up and pull him down to you, tasting yourself on his tongue. You feel his metal arm fumble with his jeans between you as he pulls out his aching cock. Your eyes flick down in curiosity and you can’t help but gasp as you gaze at his veiny, thick length.

“You see how hard you make me?” He moans, fisting the base of his leaking cock.

You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming desire to let him use you in any way he wants. Your body arching into him and your hips rolling desperately. Your submissive side blooming under his dominant tone.

You whimper and meet his eye, “fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

Your voice is soft and timid, nothing like the typical commanding confidence you have in your daily life, and it sends a thrill through Bucky. He latches onto your thighs and pushes them up toward your chest, exposing your cunt to him and he guides himself inside, moaning freely as your walls stretch to fit him.

“I’m never letting you go. My perfect, Angel.”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 137

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,560ish

Summary: Tony, Steve and the others worry over Y/N and premie Morgan.

Warning: car accident injuries, talk of traumatic brain injury, premie baby

“Tony, sit down,” Rhodey ordered. 

The hospital staff had been kind enough to show the group to a private waiting area once Rhodey had arrived. It had been hours since Y/N and Morgan had been brought back into surgery, and it had been at least two since the last update. Steve, Pepper, Happy, Tony, and Rhodey were all spread out around the room, with Tony nervous pacing.

“No,” Tony said curtly. “Not until—“

“Mr. Stark,” the doctor called, entering the room. Everyone was up on their feet. 

“How are they?” Tony asked quickly, standing in front of the doctor.

“They’re both now out of surgery.”

“Thank God,” Happy muttered.

“But neither of them are out of the woods yet. The baby girl is in the NICU, inside an incubator. Her lugs aren’t fully developed yet, so she is connected to a ventilator. Her temperature keeps dangerously fluctuating and is currently getting nutrients from a feeding tube. She’s being monitored very carefully, 24/7.”

“And Y/N?” Steve asked.

“She had many lacerations and much internal bleeding when she came in. She lost a lot of blood before and during surgery. It was also clear when Y/N was brought in, that her head had been seriously hit.”

“How serious?” Tony asked.

The doctor gave him a sympathetic look. “We had to put her in a medically induced both for her physical wounds and her brain.”

“That didn’t really explain anything, doc.”

The doctor sighed. “We don’t know the full affects of the head trauma. We won’t know until we wake her up.”

“And when are you planning on doing that?”

“It will be awhile.”

“A-awhile?”

“She needs time to heal, and we must give her brain time to rest.”

“What do you think she’ll be like when she wakes?” Steve nervously wonders.

“Most likely scenario is that loud noises and bright lights will bother her. And well as forgetfulness and slow thing, speaking, or reading. All of those can go away with time. But we are really concerned about her memories. We fear she’ll wake up with amnesia. We are also concerned that she may never wake up at all.”

“No,” Tony breathed out, stumbling back. “She—she can’t. No.”

“That’s why we are giving her time to rest and doing all we can to help her. And your baby.”

Tony began to feel like the world was closing in on him. His heart was pounding in his eyes and his breathing picked up. Rhodey quickly noticed.

“Tony, Tony,” he walked over, guiding his friend into a chair. “Breathe, focus.” Pepper came to the other side, running her hand down Tony’s back.

“I-I can’t… can’t l-lose them…” Tony panted. “They—they’re my w-world…”

“You won’t lose them. The doctors and nurses are the best and they will make sure nothing happens to either of them.”

“I’ll have a nurse come out and get you when you can visit them,” the doctor stated. “I am sorry. And we will do the best we can.” Then the doctor left.

“Tony,” Steve called.

“Don’t,” Tony said, harshly. “I don’t want to hear it.” Tony looked up at Steve from his spot, teary-angry eyes. “The only reason you’re still here and I haven’t totally yelled at you is because Y/N is trying to repair her relationship with you. And I am trying so damn hard to respect that. But that doesn’t mean I have to… You should have been there with her. Or sensed danger.”

“You don’t think I’m blaming myself for this as well? I feel terrible for what happened. She is my sister, after all.”

“Is she?” Tony stood up, challenging the Captain. “Cause you haven’t treated her as such for years.”

“I’m trying to do better now.”

“Well either try harder or stop trying!”

“Excuse me, Mr. Stark?” A nurse came in. 

“Yes?” 

“I’m here to take you and one other to see your daughter.”

“Rhodey, let’s go.” Tony walked out without another word, Rhodey behind him.

~~~

The NICU was one of the most terrifying places Tony had ever been. And that was saying a lot since he was Iron Man. He and Rhodey listened intently as the nurse explained the rules of the NICU. They couldn’t touch anything besides the outside of the incubator, including the baby. They couldn’t enter until they are geared up in a hospital gown, gloves, and a mask.

After they were all geared up, the nurse walked Rhodey and Tony over to the baby’s incubator. Tony lost his breath when he saw her. She was so small. So, so small. She was covered in tubes and wires, clearly not breathing for herself. Tony set a shaky hand on the clear incubator.

“She’s beautiful, Tony,” Rhodey said softly, going to the other side. “You did good.”

“Y/N hasn’t even held her yet…” Tony said quietly, not looking away from his daughter. “She hasn’t even named her.”

“I thought you two had?”

“Well, we have. But Y/N was suppose to hold her and make it official. She was suppose to say how beautiful she was and I was suppose to compliment both her and the baby… I don’t—I don’t know if I can do this all with out her.”

“You won’t be alone, Tony. We’re all going to be with you every step of the way.”

Tony looked at the baby in silence, clearly thinking over something. “Hey, Morgan,” he whispered. “I’m your daddy… I’m sorry this all had to happen this way. But I’ll make it better, I promise.”

~~~

A different nurse came into the waiting room once Tony and Rhodey had gone. This time, telling them that one person could come and visit Y/N. Steve immediately agreed to. The blinds were closed to Y/N’s room window, so he didn’t see anything until he was all the way into the room. The nurse closed the door, leaving him standing there, alone.

Y/N was all scratched and bandaged up. Wires and tubes were attached everywhere, including one helping her breath. This wasn’t the first time he had seen her like this. There had been the time back in 2014, when she had been fatally shot. But that felt like a life time ago and this was different. Now, half the population of the world had turned to dust, Tony and Y/N were engaged, and she had a daughter counting on her to pull through.

Steve pulled up a chair and sat beside Y/N. His hand rested on top of hers.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried, not caring about the amount of tears raining down his cheeks. “I should have been there. I shouldn’t have left you… I noticed that you were on edge, I should have done something about it… I’m so sorry, for failing you as much as I have…”

~~~

Due to the doctor’s needing to check on baby Morgan, Tony and Rhodey were forced out of the NICU. Rhodey left to go update Pepper and Happy and go get food and clothes for Tony. Heading to Y/N’s room, he found Steve outside of it. Steve was sitting on the ground, under her room window. His elbows were resting on his knees and his head was in his hands. Hearing footsteps, Steve looked up. He wiped his nose and sniffed as Tony came closer.

“I couldn’t be in there anymore,” Steve’s voice was horse as he spoke. “It just… it hurts to think she may not even wake or, if she does, that she won’t be the same person anymore…” Tony nodded, looking to stare at the door.

“Morgan’s in an incubator,” Tony stated, almost out of it. “I’m not even allowed to touch her… she’s so tiny. So very tiny… it’s scary…. I also thought I had more time to prepare. I’m not ready to be a father, especially if—“ Tony’s voice broke and he swallowed. “If Y/N won’t be by my side for it…” Tony walked to the door and put his hand on the knob. “Call Red, she’ll want to know… she’ll want to be here. And… and tell her to bring you some clothes.”

Tony slipped into the room and shut the door behind him. Instead of moving to the chair at Y/N’s side, he leaned against the door. His eyes welled up with tears as he looked at Y/N and let the whole situation hit him. Steve broke down more as he heard Tony cry from the other side of the door.

With trembling legs, Tony finally made his way to the chair, practically collapsing into it. Grabbing Y/N’s hand, he let himself fully break down.

“You cannot do this to me, honey,” he sobbed. “You really can’t… Morgan needs you—I need you…” Tony looked up at the ceiling. “Where the hell is her protection?! I thought she was meant for something with the Stones?! I thought that granted her protection until her job was done?! Protect her! Save her! I know her job isn’t done! I can’t—I can’t lose her… Not her…”

~~~

“How are they?” Natasha asked, coming into the waiting room with a bag of clothes for Steve and a few coffees. 

Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper were in the waiting room, that was slowly beginning to look like a hotel room. Rollaway beds were brought in, one for each of them, including Steve and Tony. The tension in the air was thick.

Pepper sighed. “Not good,” she shook her head. “We haven’t seen them for at least an hour though.”

“Tony’s going back and forth between Morgan and Y/N, while Steve won’t move from his spot on the floor outside Y/N’s room,” Rhodey explained.

“Well, I brought coffees and clothes for Steve.” She set both down on the coffee table.

“Thank you.”

“I know that Tony probably would have done this, but he’s so business. I have FRIDAY tracking down the suv’s.”

“Smart. Let me know what you find.”

“Of course. I’m going to go find Steve, get him off his ass.”

“Good luck. You’ll need it.”

Natasha nodded before heading to Y/N’s room. Steve was right where Rhodey had told her he’d be. With a sigh, Natasha sat beside him. She put her hand on his knee, rubbing his knee with her thumb.

“How is she?” Natasha asked softly.

“I’ve only been able to go in there once,” Steve replied, voice rough. “It’s too much.”

“That’s okay. But I don’t know if sitting out here in the hall is doing either of you any good.”

“I don’t want to leave her side, but I can’t go in there. So, out here seemed like the best option.”

“Have you seen Tony?”

“Yes,” Steve nodded. “He just left to visit Morgan again… you should have heard him, Nat. I’ve never heard him crying like that before. He really loves her.”

“Have you thought about visiting Morgan?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Why don’t you try? It will be good for you to get off the floor.”

“When Tony comes back.” Steve leaned up against the wall. “I don’t want her to be alone.”

Natasha nodded then rested her head on Steve’s shoulder. “They’re going to get through this Steve. We all are.”

~~~

Tony and Steve began switching places, without even speaking a word. Neither Y/N or Morgan were ever alone for long. The others continually urged them to rest, but neither of them listened. After 36 hours of this, Natasha and Rhodey eventually dragged Tony and Steve’s tired bodies to the beds in the waiting room. Happy, Pepper, Natasha, and Rhodey then began switching between watching Y/N, Morgan, Tony, and Steve.

The men didn’t sleep for very long, but it was enough rest to keep them moving. They had all been at the hospital for 5 days when the doctor told them that Morgan was really struggling. This got Tony’s anxiety to immediately spike, but the doctor quickly said that he had an idea that he’d like to try. With Tony and Natasha went together with the doctor to visit Morgan, as the rest watched Y/N and got rested themselves.

“I would like to try kangaroo car,” the doctor told Tony and Natasha as the nurses wheeled Morgan’s incubator into a secluded room that they were already in.

“Kangaroo care?” Tony repeated. “What’s that?”

“It’s a method of holding a baby that involves skin-to-skin contact. Morgan will be placed upright against a bare chest. Preferably a parent’s, but that is why we also wanted a female to come.”

“What about all her wires?”

“You’ll have to be careful, but we’ll help you.”

“Okay, let’s do this.” 

Tony took off his shirt and handed it to Natasha, who couldn’t help but notice the scar from the original arc reactors. Tony sat himself down in the rocker that was provided in the room as the nurses began to ready Morgan. With careful hands, a nurse brought Morgan over to Tony. The nurse guided Tony on how to hold Morgan. Once the nurses’ hands were off, Tony took a shuddering breath.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he whispered, smiling softly down at her. Natasha quickly took out her phone and snapped some pictures. “You’re such a pretty baby, yes you are… Pretty just like your momma. She would be here if she could, you know? She just needs a long nap, and then I know that she’ll never leave your side… We both love you so much, and I promise that I’ll never let you doubt that…”

Nat was tearing up as she watched her old friend hold and talk to his daughter. She began to film it, because she knew that when Y/N woke, she would regret missing it. Tony slowly began to rock back and forth, wary of the wires and tubes that Morgan was connected with. It shocked Natasha when Tony began to softly sing:

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” Tony placed a small kiss on Morgan’s tiny head. “You are my sunshine, Morgan, my only sunshine. Well, besides your mother. You guys are equal in my eyes.”

“You’re going to be a wonderful father, Tony,” Natasha said.

Tony briefly looked up at his friend. “Thank you, Red.” He looked back down at Morgan, softly talking to her once again. “Your mother made a playlist of possible songs that we could sing to you. There’s one that resonated with me more than others, though I haven’t told mom yet. I’m going to give it a try, so bare with me.” Tony took a deep breath and then began singing again:

“Dear Theodosia, what to say to you? You have my eyes, you have your mother’s name. When you came into the world, you cried. And it broke my heart. I’m dedicating every day to you. Domestic life was never quite my style. When you smile, you knock me out, I fall apart. And I thought I was so smart.”

And in that little room, as Tony sang and Natasha filmed, hope began to be felt again. Even just for the briefest of moments.

next chapter >

Please like, reblog, comment or send in an ask! I love to know thoughts/reactions.

I leave for Disney World this week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while. Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.

Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then.

So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me…. be respectful and get over yourself.)

Check out the 2 ending titles and possible banners here.

Also, I will be taking all of April off for job hunting and such. Please be kind and understanding. This is important to me.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[professional-benaddict]

Tantrum - 1.7k Little!Peter oneshot

collab with @snowstark & @professional-benaddict

Daddies Stephen and Tony, +18 Little Peter, Littles are Known, tantrums, bad moods, errands, crying, comfort

It is a fact that Peter is not the most well behaved Little in public, but this is a whole new level. Even though Peter has learnt to accept his backpack leash, he thinks differently of it today. He has opened the buckle three times already to free himself, and Daddies are not having it.

And they have not even done half their errands today.

Peter huffs, stomping along next to the cart in the grocery store, and reaches to unbuckle himself again. Despite his Daddies’ warnings to behave, he finds himself wanting to go out of his way to do everything but that today.

The sky is cloudy and grey and Peter was not allowed to play outside, because he catches colds easily, and that is where his grumpy mood started. And the fact that his Daddies are mean is not helping.

“Do we need cleaning solutions? Is the one in the small bathroom empty? Tony?”

“Huh? I don’t know. Can’t we just get some anyway? We’ll use it up either way.”

“Yes, but the cabinet is- where’s Peter?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Looking in all directions, Stephen nor Tony can see Peter anywhere. They quickly split up to search.

Unlike his Daddies who are full of panic and worry, Peter is having the best time of his life running through the snack aisle. He stops when he sees his favourite snack, reaching for it, and manages to yank it down. Chocolate chip cookies with rainbow M&Ms. Yum!

“Gonna ask to buy.” The boy mumbles to himself, turning around, and runs right into Tony.

“Oof! There you are!” Tony grumbles, grabbing both of Peter’s shoulders so that the boy drops the pack of cookies. The man crouches down to be more level with the boy. “What were you thinking? This is the third time just today!” Tony says. There is no denying that his tone is angry now, and another shopper turns to look at the scene in curiosity.

Peter pulls out of Tony’s grasp, yanking hard enough to take the man by surprise.

“‘m a big boy!” The boy snaps back. “Don’t need the yucky, stupid backpack!” That is a word Peter is definitely not allowed to say, but he is having a bad day and he has heard his Daddies say worse things when they thought he was asleep, so there!

“Peter Benjamin Stark-Strange, you listen to me now, and listen good!” Tony says firmly, making even more shoppers turn to look. “You will put that back, and then come with me and sit in the cart. And there will be no more discussions. We’ve had enough today already.”

“No!” Peter snatches the pack of cookies, and holds it tight to his chest. He lifts his chin defiantly, but Tony does not miss the way his eyes are already beginning to mist over. “You’re mean and I want my cookies and I don’t want to sit in the stupid, stupid cart!” Peter sits down right where he is, just to prove his point.

“Peter-” Tony starts, but stops himself before he says something he will regret greatly. He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut to try and ground himself. There are people watching them now, he knows it, and it is just a question of time before a worker will ask them to leave. “Peter, get up now.” Tony says tiredly. “I’m not being mean, I’m just your Daddy and you need to listen to me and what I say. So, get up.”

“No, ‘cause you’re mean.” Peter sniffles, but despite his words, he unsteadily gets to his feet, still holding his cookies. He gives Tony a stubborn look. “Buy these for me now, Daddy.”

“No, we have cookies at home. You’re not getting those.” Tony says with a shake of his head. “Come on now, Daddy’s looking for us. Let’s not keep him waiting.” He adds with a slightly forced cheery voice, and offers his hand to Peter. But, it seems to be too late.

Peter lets out a wail of protest because ‘Daddy said no’ and plops back down.

“Nooooo! Go ‘way!” Peter buries his face his arms, wrapping them tightly around his knees so that he can resist the temptation to ask Daddy to carry him. Because even though Daddy’s being mean right now, he still gives amazing hugs.

This is it. The boss fight. And Tony has lost.

For a few seconds, Tony zones out of his Daddy role, and lets his embarrassment and shameful incompetence soak up into his whole being. He can hear people whispering, and feeling sorry for the crying Little.

Then, he snaps out of it. The man crouches down again to his Little, and picks him up. Peter fights back at first, but it is only half-hearted, and soon he is in Tony’s arms securely. Without even questioning himself, Tony also picks up the pack of cookies.

“Daddyyyy…” Peter sobs, clinging to Tony and wrapping his arms around his neck. He can also hear and see people staring and talking to themselves now, and he does not like it. He can tell that Daddy does not like it either, judging by the expression on his face.

The boy feels his Daddy moving forward, carrying him securely, and it only feels like seconds have passed by the time he is handed over to a new pair of arms.

“Hey, there. What happened?” Stephen asks Peter softly, his voice cooing and concerned. He noses at the boy’s temple, then kisses it before looking at Tony. When Peter does not answer right away, Tony does instead.

“Defeat is what happened.” The man says, and puts the pack of cookies in the cart.

“No!” Peter kicks angrily, catching Stephen’s thigh and making him wince. He makes a pitiful noise of complaint and upset when Tony takes him back into his arms and sits him securely in the cart.

Peter hates sitting in the cart. It is boring, and he does not get to touch pretty things in the store anymore, and he does not like it. To make matters worse, this is only their second store, and he knows they have to go to other places. And now that he has been relegated to cart-sitter here, he is going to be in the same position in all the other stores.

Peter hates sitting in the cart. Then, the boy spots the cookies in the cart in front of him, and he reaches out to hold it. He turns around to face his Daddy, giving him a pitiful, half-hopeful look.

“Cookies, Daddy?” He sniffles.

“Yes, you got the cookies, bud.” Tony confirms, but does not add more to it. He is trying to focus on his shopping list again, but then Peter speaks up again.

“Cookies now?”

“No, Peter. We haven’t paid for them yet. We have to wait- okay.”

It is too late now, again. Peter has ripped open the packaging, and he is shoving a cookie into his mouth with a fierce look. Stephen also butts in with his disapproval.

“Peter, bud, that’s not allowed. We can’t open the things we haven’t paid for yet.”

“But-“ Peter blinks, looking genuinely confused, and sets down the package to pout instead. He munches on the cookie he took, but it does not taste as good as it usually does. His Daddies are not being nice at all. First Tony, and now Stephen, too! Sulking, Peter rests his head on the side of the cart, waiting for shopping to finish. He has a feeling that his Daddies are not happy with him, and he does not like when they are grumpy.

Even if Peter is still in a mood, Stephen and Tony would much rather have him sulking in the cart than running around angrily. The rest of the shopping trip goes by quietly, and awkwardly. Stephen and Tony try to include Peter where they can, but the boy does not want to talk. On their last stop, the Daddies are feeling quite guilty.

“Peter, baby. Are you still mad at Daddies?” Stephen tries gently while they walk across the parking lot to their car.

Peter refuses to reply, just stomping along next to his Daddies, glaring at the ground. Before they can enter their last store, Peter catches sight of... a Moomin drink.Normally, Peter would beg his Daddies to take him there, except he remembers that he still has to be mad, and it feels ick to ‘give in’ and ask them to get a drink. Still, he cannot help but stare at the purple and pink drink wistfully.

After loading the last bags into the trunk of the car, Tony brushes his hand off and sighs.

“So, home next?” Tony asks Stephen, but the man is watching Peter. “Babe?”

“I think he wants something from there.” Stephen whispers to his partner, and points to the coffee shop just across the street.

It looks just like any coffee shop, but by the door, there is a large chalk board with a friendly looking commercial of their latest drink. It is a Moomin bubble tea with raspberry, and Peter is watching it intently.

The Daddies exchange a look. Then, Stephen heads to Peter.

“Baby?” Stephen asks, walking up to Peter and crouching down next to him. That way they are more at level with one another. “Do you want that drink?”

Peter worries at his bottom lip with his teeth. He is still supposed to be mad at his Daddies, and asking them for a drink ruins all of his efforts!

But... the pink Moomin drink.

Eventually, he settles for a nod.

“Yeah? You want it?”

Peter nods again, so Stephen offers his hand to Peter.

“Lets go then, sweets.”

A few minutes later, Stephen and Peter join Tony who is waiting in the car. The boy looks as pleased as ever, sipping on a bright purple drink with a decorated straw. The drink looks like a sugar bomb, and that is exactly why Peter looks so pleased. When Stephen hops into the passenger seat, he shoots Tony a look.

“Maybe we should get Steve and Bucky to babysit him next time.”

“Definitely.” Tony chuckles, and starts the car.

[tommyspeakycap]

New Beginnings

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2976

Summary - After the battle in Manhattan, a man who hates the idea of a doctor definitely needs one. A friend of Pepper Potts' lends a hand and consequently changes Steve's long-lived disposition for getting medical help.

a/n - set after the battle of New York in the avengers

Since Steve had woken up, or rather been woken up after he was found in the ice after 70 years, he had not once visited the doctor other than those at S.H.I.E.L.D when they had forced him to. For one, he didn’t ever get sick now and reason two would be that he just hates the concept. He spent a great deal of his time in doctors offices and speaking to specialists diagnosing him with all forms of new medical conditions from when he was in a child to before he was given the serum. It wasn’t somewhere he wanted to go now and those days weren’t exactly the ones he liked to remember even if he was the absolute picture of health now.

That didn’t so much apply however when he, Tony, Thor, Natasha, Bruce and Clint were finally able to stop after fighting for hours against unrelenting waves of aliens trying to take New York. They were all battered and bruised to some degree, some arguably more than others.

Steve looks around with a pounding heart. It never gets easier to think about the losses that are likely to mount up after a battle, the buildings that fell and the people who stood unable in the face of the large aliens with huge powerful guns. It only adds to the hurt that stems from seeing the city he loves reduced half to rubble with skyscrapers crumbled to the ground, flaming, flipped cars scattering the road and entire streets all but destroyed.

Before he does anything else, Steve wants to go down to the subway that he insisted the police put people in to ensure they all get out safely before he heads to meet up with the rest of the team back at Stark tower. There are more ambulances lining what’s left of the roads than he can even begin to count and he’s extremely glad they hadn’t destroyed any hospitals because they were going to need every bed that they had. He helped some people up out of the Subway with the officers and some people thanked him, some people gawked at him and some seemed too much in shock to even notice he was there. Steve stood just watching for longer than he would care to admit.

He supposes he would say he’s just taking everything in. It feels as though the world is quite the same as to when he lived in it at first. People still come together when they need to and there are still bad people who want to stand above the rest.

As his feet carry him back over crunching rubble in the direction of Stark tower to meet up with the rest, Steve can’t help but think about how he wishes his best friend could be with him for this battle. There wasn’t anyone Steve preferred to have on his side and he did tremendously miss his friend.

“No no no!” Steve hears yelling above the rest of the commotion,a noise which immediately diverts his train of thought. He turns his head to see if he can catch a glimpse of what was going on to see if there was anything he could do to help. “He has to go first, he’s got an ICH with a blown pupil. He won’t make it halfway to the hospital if he has to wait another twenty minutes!” Steve rounds the corner at a slow jog. He’s met with a woman with her hair tied back tightly out of her face, which was smeared with dirt and dust and it looked as though she had been climbing amongst the rubble to help recover the last of the people from that building. “Look ma’am, we have a kid in there.” The EMT tries to explain, but you just give him an incredulous look, “With a closed tib-fib fracture, he’ll live! This guy is bleeding into his brain, do you have one of those-” You lean closer to him, squinting your eyes and sweeping dust off of his badge, “Jack. Do you have a brain, Jack?” The EMT in front of you opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. “Yes ma’am.” He stutters. “Good,” you snip, “Then get the kid in a wheelchair for the next ambulance and bluelight this guy to the nearest hospital, now!”

The EMT scrambles to do as told and you push your hair back again with a heavy sigh as you walk away the second they get him in the stretcher and into the ambulance. Steve smiles slightly to himself. There’s nothing quite like a powerful woman in his eyes and no force like an angry one. He’d hate to be on that woman’s bad side and he knows now that he was wrong to think his help would be needed there. The super soldier simply walks away again with his shield held tightly in his hand. He bids a wordless respect to the woman who rolls up her sleeves again and cups her hands over her mouth, shouting out for anyone who might need help from her clearly medically experienced hands.

“Dear God, look at you lot!” Pepper exclaims as they walk in, immediately rushing to hug Tony tightly. “You all need to get checked over medically. Like now.” She says firmly, but each one shakes their heads. “The hospitals will be busy enough,” Bruce says, “I just saw a woman fighting for an ambulance. We’ll heal.” Steve agrees, folding his painful arms. “They’re right.” Tony nods. Pepper shakes her head, “I knew you’d say that, which is why Fury and I had a medical floor set up. There’s nurses there to patch you guys up and a doctor there if anybody needs one. All of you, go. Now.” Most want to protest, but opt not to at her stern words and instead follow the nurse who had come to greet them.

All but Steve.

“I’ll be fine.” He states, shaking his head and turning away. “Excuse me,” Pepper calls out to him, “Please, Steve. You really need to get seen.” She insists, but he keeps walking.

“(y/n), oh my god!” Pepper sighs heavily in relief, rushing towards you the second you walk out the revolving door that only had one glass panel left in it. “Thank God you're safe. This is one of them I was going to ask you to take a look at.” Once she releases you from the tight hug, she points after Steve who was still limping away towards the stairs. “Can’t get him to go to the med floor though.” She mutters to you beneath her breath. You shoot her a smile that says she needn't worry.

“Oi!” You call out, barely eliciting a turn of the head from the man in the blue suit. “Hey you!” You try again, you merely get him to stop walking. “Me?” He says, but still didn’t turn to look at you. He was trying to place where he had heard your voice, but his head was hurting too much to put a lot of thought into it. “Yeah, you. You better get America’s ass right back over here and march it right down to that med floor.”

Your tone makes him turn around immediately, his eyebrows slightly furrowed for a moment before he realised it hurt to do that too. He fought back a smile over those pink lips. “I thought I knew your voice.”

His response prompts your eyebrows to shoot up as you eyed him and then Pepper in confusion. “Have we met?” You ask, tilting your head slightly to the side. Steve shakes his head, “Oh no, sorry. I just saw you a while ago yelling at a paramedic over an ambulance about an ICH, whatever that means.” The blonde shrugs, offering you a slight smile. You chuckle at his words and shake your head. “Well then I’m sure you’ll do as I tell you. Save me doing anymore yelling today?”

Steve doesn’t have much more fight left in him for today and he would be lying if he said his body wasn’t aching. He could probably do with some pain killers and the cut on his arm would likely hurt a lot less, as well as be quicker to heal if he were to get it stitched up. He doesn’t say anything, but he does sigh and decides to follow you through the lobby and down a flight of stairs to the newly designated medical floor.

“Nice of you to join us, Cap!” Tony jests out, “And (y/n)!” He cheers. You only flip him off in response with a roll of your eyes as you lead the tall man behind you into one of the private rooms filled with medical supplies.

“Sit on the bed there.” You instruct, walking over to wash your hands, arms and face before you do anything else.

“I don’t think I need-”

“On the bed, Captain.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

You nod your head and turn to smile at him softly. Your smile is beautiful. It actually alleviates a little of his pain just to see it, and he truly is surprised by the softness and gentility of it in comparison to the attitude he had thus far witnessed from you in the short time he’s known you.

He groans and the medical bed creaks a little when he climbs on as you pull the latex gloves over your hands. He watches you very tentatively, attempting to eye the things that you gather from various boxes around the room and place onto the wheeled table. “Sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

Your softer voice makes him smile slightly again. “It’s alright,” Steve brushed off with a shrug, shifting himself so he could strip his suit off like you had told him to do just before you entered the room. He kind of awkwardly places the material of the suit over his boxers and the tops of his thighs. He doesn’t exactly want to sit basically naked in front of a woman he didn’t even really know. He still had a lot of his 1940’s mannerisms written into his behaviour. You turn back around to face him and don’t seem to take much notice of his huge, bare torso on the medical bed in front of you. Instead, your eyes scan his body for where to start on his injuries.

It seems as though you opt for cleaning his face first, which makes him feel slightly embarrassed to just sit and let you do it. You use a cloth and hot water for the dried blood, followed by an alcohol cloth that stings a surprising amount. You only place a steri strip over the gash on his forehead and then turn to the open cut on his shoulder. He knows that it’ll heal in less than 24 hours and he won’t have so much as a mark in its place. But it’ll heal a hell of a lot quicker if it’s closed and clean, so he allows you to begin working on it.

He hisses when you do, and you stop for a moment.

“Intracranial hemorrhage.” You say seemingly out of the blue. “What?” Steve asks, the pain in his arm dissipating. “Intracranial hemorrhage. ICH. What the guy you saw me fighting for the ambulance had. He got stuck under some rubble and it caused his brain to bleed. That increases the pressure in his head until you drill a hole to release it. Sometimes you have to take out a whole section of the skull and leave the head open until the swelling goes down around the brain. It’s super interesting.” Steve is entranced by your jabbering on, his eyes literally glued onto you as you work. Hands tentatively maneuvering a needle through his skin as gently as you can to pull the two separate sides back together.

You flick your eyes up to him to see the grin and his blue eyes shining in anticipation for your next words. “He was pretty bad considering the circumstances. A blown pupil- dilated pupil- is usually a huge warning sign that he needs treatment like, right away. He wasn’t responding to much physical stimuli, but you'd be amazed by the recovery that a lot of people with that type of injury can make within literally just a few days of the surgery. The brain is pretty cool.” You continue on. Steve doesn’t want you to ever stop talking. Your voice has apparently turned off all of the pain receptors in his body as he watches the focus pull your brows together ever so slightly and part your lips as you tie the knot at the end of his arm stitches, carefully wiping over it and placing a white gauze dressing over the wound. “Those should dissolve in your skin even if you are a super-healer or whatever.” You turn your attention next to a cut just above his kneecap.

“Sorry for the rambling, wild day. I’ll stitch that one up too then you should be good to get back to your superhero post-battle business.” Your tease makes him chuckle slightly as he watches you roll the wheeled table and your stool round to the other side of him to wipe down his knee before you start to stitch it. Steve had a tough day too, and he hadn’t yet learned how he would cope with those in modern day, but he had a hunch that listening to you might be the key. However, it comes across to him like your way was talking about things that weren’t as scary as the fact that aliens descended from the sky and destroyed half of New York City. “What about a closed TibFib then?” Steve asks softly with kindness swimming around in those sky blue eyes. “Tell me about that?”

After a further half hour finishing his stitching, cleaning him up properly and getting him some fresh clothes, you found yourself surprisingly sad to be leaving the company of the kind, attractive, super soldier you had newly become acquainted with. He seemed pretty solemn about it too, but you couldn’t tell if he was just exhausted from his day's worth of fighting. You had gotten to know each other through the short time you got to spend with him, and he was glad he had at first refused any form of medical treatment for if he hadn’t he probably wouldn’t have had you as his caregiver.

“Thank you for...all this.” He gestures to himself, referring to the stitches, his newly clean skin and clothes. “And for talking to me. It really means a lot.” Steve admits, his voice a little shy with the lightest dusting of pink flushing his cheeks. You smile without thought for the first time that day. “It’s a pleasure. Thank you for listening to me, and for not calling me a bossy bitch.” You breathe a chuckle of laughter as you turn your back to him to empty all the rubbish into the bin. So you don’t see the anger that passes through his eyes at the thought of someone ever calling you that, or the tilt of his head in irritation. You were so strong and a true powerhouse of a woman in his eyes. Clearly incredibly smart. He was pretty much smitten with you already.

“That would be incredibly rude.” Steve states firmly, “I just think you’re a very smart and a very beautiful woman. And you are incredible. Saved a lot of people today down in the rubble.”

You turn back around to see him, standing now much closer to you. “Says you, Mr Alien-slayer.” You grin back up at him. He isn’t the kind to go in for a kiss on the first date, never mind the first time ever meeting a woman, so he takes a gentle step back much to your disappointment. “I believe you called me America’s ass, earlier today.”  He corrects lightly and you turn your eyes to the ground as your face flushes red with a giggle of embarrassment as he laughs with you. “Sorry about that, Steve.”

That was actually the first time you had said his name and God he loved how it sounded leaving your pretty lips. “It’s okay. Kinda liked it, suits me don’t you think?” He turns side on and twists his back to look down at his ass dramatically and you throw your head back laughing. It’s such music to his ears and he’s yet to hear another sound since he woke that brings such a great amount of joy and warmth straight to his heart.

“Well,” you hum softly as you pull out a piece of paper and scrawl some writing down on it with a pen from your scrubs breast pocket, “If America’s ass ever finds himself in need of a stitch up or a chat, anything really, then this is where to find me.” You tuck the little bit of ripped paper into his large hand and gently peck his cheek before opening the door and walking off through the medical floor. He looked down at that little bit of paper, reading over some numbers and your name.

“(y/n),” he says softly to himself, subconsciously smiling at the way your name feels so beautiful on his lips. “What you got there, Cap?” Natasha asks as she leans herself on the doorframe of the room he stands frozen in. Steve looks up at her in surprise, “Uh, nothing much.” He diffuses, shrugging his shoulders as he takes one more glance down at the paper. “You sure?” She presses. “Yeah.” He assures. She turns to walk away just as realisation hits him. “Oh wait,” he calls after her, a shy smile on his lips.

“You know anywhere I could get a phone?”