#and steve gets to yell at them in public and tell them they suck and ruin their image and eddie is being his little guard dog next to him

[scoopstomyahoy]

thinking about a no upside down au steddie fic where steve and eddie run into each other years after moving away from hawkins, and eddie remembers steve and his fall from grace as king, and is kind of intrigued to see what kind of person he is now

and steve doesn’t remember him at all at first, because, look, eddie changed his hair again, and steve’s had a few head injuries (no upside down but i imagine he still went thru some shit with the party and with robin), and he didn’t really think about eddie in high school anyway, and he’s trying to forget about hawkins as much as possible (besides the kiddos, but they’re all moved out for college now, anyway) (obviously he lives with robin)

but steve is different now, happier, more open, flirts with guys, flirts with EDDIE, and eddie….. well, he wants to know more! and he tells steve he knows him from hawkins, and steve’s sunny little smile flickers a little, but he just apologizes for not remembering him and mentions he has some memory problems

and they get to know each other, and eventually as eddie tells him more (and maybe with the help of some yearbooks) steve remembers eddie. and. well. they like getting to know each other. and they like each other. and then they get together

eventually they’ve been together for a while, and eddie thinks he wants to maybe introduce steve to wayne, and he mentions he’s going to go back to hawkins for a long weekend (as he’s done a couple times) and this time he’d like steve to join him

and again steve’s sunny smile flickers a bit, but he says he’d love to meet eddie’s uncle, and… they go to hawkins. and it goes well— meeting wayne, at least, but steve seems a little on edge the whole time they’re there, tense when they drive in, fidgety when they go to the grocery store, et cetera. eddie thinks maybe steve is nervous about staying with the man who raised eddie, which is ridiculous, because wayne LOVES steve.

it’s not til they leave the town altogether that steve relaxes, and eddie realizes it wasn’t “meeting the parents” but rather going back to hawkins. and speaking of meeting the parents, steve didn’t ever bring his own up, even though eddie knew they still lived in hawkins. and the way steve glanced around whenever they went in public, like he was scared of getting recognized

and he asks about it, and steve doesn’t really want to talk about it, but he gives eddie snippets of it. people he wanted to leave behind in hawkins, memories that resurfaced, things he wants to forget

eddie goes back to see wayne sometimes, and the first time he doesn’t know whether to ask steve to come, so he just mentions he’s thinking about going to hawkins for some weekend and steve immediately starts making plans with him as if the invite is implicit. they go back to hawkins several more times, steve still tense and pent up the whole time they’re there

over time steve reveals more and more to eddie. everything that made hawkins hell for him, from the things he himself did in high school to the things people did to him. stuff tommy and carol and billy said to him. some of it is just typical high school bullshit (and oh, the nancy thing.) some of it is the tragedies steve went through, the horrors he had to protect his kids from. the injuries he sustained. more generally the homophobia that permeated the whole town, keeping steve from being himself. the lack of support in the indiana public school system for a high school senior who’s had two concussions and gone through incredible trauma.

his parents. the reason why steve’s mail is addressed to ‘steve buckley’ now, not ‘steve harrington’.

(that doesn’t come out until much, much later, and eddie is kicking himself for ever suggesting steve come back to hawkins.)

eddie, who hardly had an easy time of it in hawkins, is absolutely blown away by what steve had gone through in the same town, right under his nose. the entire persona that steve was trying to leave behind — the cool as a cucumber, unaffected, douchey mask he wore to hide all that he had endured. the head injuries. the emotional tragedies he had gone through. the way he had to be the rock for the kids even as he went through the same things as them.

he tries to tell steve they never have to go back to hawkins again, and steve is having none of it. he tells steve wayne can come visit them in their new city, and steve thinks that’s completely unfair to the man who had raised eddie, seriously, you’re going to make him come all the way up here?

and well i don’t know exactly what the ending is but steve is so stubborn about trying to love hawkins because it was eddie’s home and he wants to be able to go see wayne because wayne deserves to see his kid and eddie deserves to see his uncle and steve doesn’t want to be the problem :(

#steddie #stranger things #this isn’t very fleshed out but just. hawkins as an incredibly scarring place for steve #something built up in his mind as a very dangerous place for him not just because of what happened there but who he had to be there #i think ultimately it would culminate in them going back to hawkins and running into steve’s parents when they least expect it #and steve gets to yell at them in public and tell them they suck and ruin their image and eddie is being his little guard dog next to him #baring his teeth #for the no upside down part of the au i think it would have to be like. nebulous tragedy of season 1 struck them #barb still died (sorry barb) so that his relationship with nancy falls apart. will and el are twins and they disappear the same night #steve knows the kids earlier in the timeline in this one and has already basically adopted them when will and el go missing #eddie was never the victim of a massive witch hunt but jason still harasses him during his third senior year and gets ppl to gang up on him #so he was never like Wanted by all of hawkins and can never return but he sure doesn’t feel welcome there besides w wayne #oh i also think it would be important that one of the trips steve snaps at eddie bc he’s so strung out and immediately regrets it #and takes it as proof that when in hawkins Steve Is A Bad Person and tries to explain this to eddie #eddie meanwhile is trying to convince steve that he’s not a bad person and that he was being mean because he’s completely stressed out #and he wouldn’t be so stressed out if he didn’t make himself come back to hawkins #anyway ultimately. steve realized hawkins is just a place where bad things happened. it is not a place that makes people (including himself) #bad. it’s just. a place. and steve did not grow and change for the better bc he got out of hawkins. he got better bc he put the effort in #god i just. love steve so much and the version of him in my mind is so much better developed than what the duffers are doing

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest | Vol 30

Howdy folks :)

Welcome to the THIRTIETH Spreadsheet Digest!!

I started reading a few series this week, and I'm not putting them on the spreadsheet til I've finished them; so, if I told you I'm reading your fic but it's not here, that's why. Eleven fics this week (Dieter, Joel, Din, Ezra, Javi P, and a Marcus P/Din/Reader)!

Fic Rec Masterlist | My Masterlist | My Kofi

Recs Below The Pedge

In Fiction - Dieter one shot by @sin-djarin

Summary: Dieter comes to bed. Tags: Established relationship, mentions of self doubt, no physical description of reader, no dialogue, no use of y/n. Thoughts: This was so sweet. I just want to hold him and pet his hair, fr.

In Reality - Dieter one shot by @sin-djarin

Summary: Dieter comes home for Christmas. Tags: Established relationship, masturbation (M), Dieter's self deprecation, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n. Thoughts: I'm just extremely obsessed with the nailing of Dieter's characterization here. He's a little gross and sad, but it's endearing. Poor baby can't keep his phone charged to save his life. And I love how reader just like... knows he's a mess and is okay with it. It's a little bittersweet? In a way that I adore.

O, Christmas Tree - Dieter one shot by @covetyou

Summary: As PA to Dieter Bravo, you were used to the strange, unusual and downright weird. What you weren't used to was taking in a shipment of - what? And how many? Tags: sex toys (so many butt plugs), Dieter being a menace to his PA, no smut, pure silliness. Thoughts: This is so delightfully silly. And they do kind of look like christmas trees.

The hat stays on - Joel one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Summary: Hooking up with a cowboy in a bar bathroom... kind of. Tags: sub/dom dynamics, Sub!Joel, Switch!Joel, Public sex, Bathroom Sex, Squirting, orgasm denial(mention). Purely Porn with no Plot. Thoughts: I love these lil plot twist fics, I love cowboy hat joel, I love sub/switch!Joel, I love this.

To Know the Light - Din one shot by @burntheedges

Summary: to go in the dark with a light is to know the light. Tags: fluff, a teensy bit of angst, introspection, winter, food mention, reader has no description, gn!reader Thoughts: Din's internal struggle with removing the helmet is such a fascinating aspect of his character, and I think you did a beautiful job of capturing it here. I thought the imagery, the characterization, and the story telling in general here was just gorgeous.

Killshot - Ezra series by @magpiepills

Summary: A lonesome prospector comes face to face with a dangerous stranger. What happens when you can’t resist his charm? Tags: SMUT, PIV, fingering, oral (m&f receiving) pet names, spanking, dub con, angst, anal play, deep throating, cum eating, thigh riding, dirty talk, double penetration, toys, teasing, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader. Thoughts: This shit had me YELLING!!! Dirty Dog Ezra in full force here. I am still shook and I read this like 4 days ago.

Dare to Surrender - Javi P series by @auteurdelabre

Summary: “First to come loses.” You can’t stand Javier Pena but when Steve Murphy makes an off-hand remark that gets both you and Javier’s competitive sides going, there’s no telling how far you’ll go. Tags: Office Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Blow Jobs, Office Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Dare, Co-workers, soft!javi p, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Pet Names, Jealous!Javier Peña, Phone Sex, Jealousy, Steve Murphy cockblock, Desk Sex, No Pregnancy, Banter, Bonding, Bets & Wagers, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Finger Sucking, hey we said no kissing, he falls first, no protection, From Sex to Love, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, P in V sex, Sweet!Javi, Nicknames Thoughts: I loved this storyyyyy. Javi was so pathetically in love with her and so bad at saying it. Brad sucks, btw, but I love how jealous he made Javi. P.S if you like the whole bet concept + Javi P check out Go Ahead I Dare Ya. It's a slightly different premise, but so very good.

Handsome, Dirty, Rich - Joel one shot by @pedgito

Summary: the rich father of your best friend, sarah — joel miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided. Tags: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, bfd!joel, ceo!joel, mentions of reader growing up poor/absent parents (joel is ridiculously loaded, it's fic y'all let me live lol), sneaking around, age gap (not explicitly specified, but reader is in final year of college and joel is probs late 40s/50s), vacations, gift-giving, unprotected piv, come swallowing, daddy issues if you squint, one (1) pussy slap, oral (f receiving), semi-public fucking Thoughts: The buildup was immaculate AGH. And I am obsessed with the kind of not quite happy ending? Part 2 maybe?

Comfort, Despite the Storm - Joel one shot by @marisferasiop

Summary: Joel's neighbor (you) is the town archivist and brings him a present on his birthday (with a side of teasing). Later, after waking from his own nightmares, he finds you sleepless on your porch during a storm and you take comfort in one another. Tags: fluff, smut, nightmares, alcohol, p in v sex, oral m receiving Thoughts: Love a lil continuous hookup situation. I adore how they get together in this and how reader takes the lead in the situation. And like the fic overall is sweet and flirty, but that smut is hot.

Misfire - Dieter one shot by @qveerthe0ry

Summary: Dieter gets waxed for a role and gets a little too excited. Tags: dubious consent, body hair waxing, pain kink, humiliation kink (kinda), subby!Dieter, ruined orgasm, coming untouched, hands-free orgasm, reader does not engage in sex acts, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, accidental exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Thoughts: Pathetic, whiny, whimpering, humiliation kink Dieter? Yeah. Yes. Thank you. Perfection. And if you want a version where reader plays along instead of ignoring him read that here.

Closure - Marcus P/Din one shot by @javier-pena

Summary: Marcus, Din and you used to be best friends. Now you're on opposite sides of the law with a decade worth of grudges between you. But hate can quickly become something else ... Tags: angst | canon-typical violence | mentions of food and alcohol and smoking | they’re all mean to each other and they have a difficult relationship | (a lot of) dirty talk (by my standards) | slight power imbalance | reader has hair that can be grabbed | threesome m/f/(m) (kinda) | ecouteurism | voyeurism | exhibitionism | a bit of edging | fingering | competitiveness | (unprotected) piv sex | creampie | a tiny, tiny bit of degradation Thoughts: Marcus and Din is a pairing I truly never thought I would see, but I am obsessed with this pairing. The way their personalities mesh is just stunning. I love the characterization of all three of them. I'm not usually one to read Din AUs where he's not some sort of Mandalorian, but I truly could not resist reading this. Everything about this fic was amazing. Reader's story, Marcus and Din's relationship, the setting, everything was just so good AHGHGGH.

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

This week I posted:

Scotty Doesn't Know - a Dieter one shot

Summary: Scotty doesn't know you're hooking up with Dieter Tags: songfic, smut, infidelity, dieter is a loser, scotty doesn't really deserve this he's just annoying, crack taken seriously, porn with the barest of plots, barely edited. WC: 2.8k

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Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[headkiss]

Hello! I love your fics <3 I’m someone that suffers from constant headaches, of varying degree a bunch. When I’m out in public, the best thing I’ve found to relieve some pain is to lay my head on something (my arms, a jacket, someone’s shoulder) with my eyes closed so that light doesn’t make it worse. So can we have a lil hurt/comfort fluffy Steve noticing the reader having a headache cause the kids are being a lil too rowdy or something and helping them out

hi lovely!!!! thank you for the request <33 i also am very prone to headaches so i really enjoyed writing this and getting some comfort from our beloved steve ❤️‍🩹

Headaches were not fun. But, you were used to it. You got them when things were loud, overwhelming. Steve knew it, and he tried to take care of you every time. He wished he could just take the pain from you, give it to himself so you didn’t have to deal with it.

That wasn’t possible, though.

You loved the kids, really, you did. They were sweet, goofy, and such good people. Even after everything you’d all been through, they stayed good the best they could. They stuck together.

Today, you were all hanging out around Steve’s pool. Cannon balls and popsicles melting leaving drops behind on the pavement. It was hot and it was the relief of summer. A fresh start after everything.

You were having fun, despite the loud volume and the business of the day. It was a recipe for one of your headaches, and you knew that.

Steve knew it too, and he was keeping a close eye on you. Searching for pain on your face or a hand rubbing at your forehead. He asked you time and time again if you would be okay today, if you were sure everyone coming over wouldn’t be too much.

You were sitting on one of the lounge chairs, watching your friends swim around with a fond smile. Steve got out of the pool, beads of water dripping off of tanned skin and a hand pushing his hair out of his face.

He walked over to where you were sitting, leaning in with his hands on either side of you and planting a kiss on your lips. One, two, three soft pecks before he pulled away and sat down in the chair next to yours. Not before pushing it over so it was directly against where you sat.

“You guys are so gross!” Dustin loved to tease the two of you, but you could all tell he actually really liked seeing both of you happy. He looked at you and Steve like older siblings, mentors.

“Love you too, Dusty!” You yelled back at him, causing him to groan at the nickname. The kids laughed at the antics, adding on with impressions of you and Steve and it was great. It was light and fun and exactly what you all needed.

Until, it wasn’t.

You had hoped today would be a lucky day, headache free. You felt it hit after a game of marco polo started. The constant yelling and chatter mixed with the heat was getting to you.

You grabbed your water bottle that sat on the ground next to you and took a couple big gulps, trying to stay hydrated the best you could.

Steve tilted his head over so he could look at you, hand reaching for yours and holding it softly.

“You okay, pretty?”

“Mhm. Heads starting to hurt a bit.”

“Do you need anything? Ice or something?”

“No, no. I’ll be fine, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to pretend. You can tell me.”

It wasn’t like you were ashamed, you just hated needing to be doted on so often. As much as you loved the attention and the sweetness of Steve, it just sucked.

Steve hated seeing you in any amount of pain, big or small. He always wanted to be there for you through it, though. That’s what he was doing right now. His thumb trailing back and forth over your knuckles and his focus solely on you.

You turned to look at him, too. Eyes locking and small smiles shared.

“It hurts, but it’s been worse.”

“Okay, that’s good. Wanna lay with me?”

“Won’t you overheat?”

“I’ll risk getting mild heat exhaustion for you, pretty.”

“How romantic.”

“C’mon.”

He scooched closer to you, wiggling his shoulder so you knew it was okay to lay your head there. He knew it’s what helped you, that being able to just lean on him and shut your eyes was the best medicine. Steve couldn’t deny that it made him feel good, being the one you turned to.

You scooched over, too. Keeping your hands intertwined and laying your head down on his shoulder, closing your eyes to try and relax the best you could.

Steve reached over with his free hand, brushing your hair off your forehead and planting a small kiss there. Healing you with his touch, it seemed. He could almost feel you melt into him, body relaxing and tension escaping. You were so cute and pretty and he never wanted you to be in pain.

“Love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you, Stevie. Thank you for this.”

“You know I love being your pillow.”

You giggled at his little comment. Then, you breathed him in, one deep inhale and exhale. It was nice, you thought. Nice to be here with your favorite people and getting some relief with your love next to you.

Somehow, you even fell asleep there. Letting Steve’s presence and comfort lull you into a nap. It was a perfect day, even with the little obstacle of a headache.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fluff #stevie blurbs #steve harrington requests #steve harrington one shot

[demons2003]

My Boys (Chapter 59)

Series List

Y/n's pov

As soon as we get to Ms Kelly's house, Max jumps out of the car and walks over. Steve and Dustin watch her as I lay down in the back seat. "Okay. She's in," Steve says. I nod but don't look at them. I close my eyes and try to get some sleep. Hopefully to get rid of this headache. "Y/n?" Dustin whispers, but I don't say anything back. I hear some shuffling in the seat before Dustin says, "I'm missing a collarbone, not eyes." I stiffen and listen closely to the conversation. Where is Dustin taking this conversation? Steve doesn't say anything, so Dustin asks, "So, we gonna talk about... it?" "Huh? Sorry, talk about what?" Steve asks. Shit, has Dustin noticed the way Steve's been with me lately? "Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance?" Dustin tells him. Great, it wasn't just in my head. Dustin noticed it too. "Okay, first of all, that's not what happened." Steve starts but Dustin buts in to say, "Pretty sure that's what happened. It was pretty public. There were a lot of witnesses, including Y/n..." "Are you implying I still have a thing for Nance?" Steve defensively asks. "No. I'm not implying. I'm stating. And, as it relates to your steadfast refusal to date Y/n or Robin, it's pretty much the only logical explanation," Dustin says, a little angry when he says my name. I wonder what that is about.

"That's not the only one," I hear Steve whisper with movement in the front seat after. "And as for Nance, I was just trying to protect a friend. A friend, Henderson. Okay?" Steve snaps at Dustin. "Okay." "Don't wanna find her in the morning with her eyes sucked out the front of her skull by this Vecna creep," Steve defends. "You're bright red in the face right now," Dustin mocks. Dammit, I wish I could see Steve's face right now. "No, I'm not. I don't wanna talk about it with Y/n in the car or ever. I'll punch you so hard your teeth will fall back out," Steve says. I stiffen a little at his last comment, ready to get in the middle of them. "Whoa. Too far," Dustin tells him. They are quiet for a second till they both say not cool and Steve apologizes to Dustin. I really do love these two. Just wish there was a way to figure out if Steve still loved me. They both go quiet and I pick that as the moment to wake up.

"Hey," I whisper, leaning between them both. Steve looks worried at me while Dustin beams. "Hey sleepyhead, you doing alright?" I smile at him and ruffle his hair. "All good over here," I whisper and lean back in my seat, looking at the window to Ms Kelly's house. I still hated this house. After everything that went down with my dad, I was forced by Hopper to come down here and make sure I was ok. Ms Kelly would try and get me to talk for hours and it only ended with me crying and having panic attacks. That did help me feel better though and I wasn't as scared to face men anymore. Just wish the Upside Down didn't bring a whole new mental problem.

"Here she comes. Here she comes," Steve excitedly whisper/yells to Dustin and I. I move over in the back, making sure Max can get in. She jumps into the back and Dustin asks, "What's she say?" "Nothing, just drive," Max tells Steve, slamming the car door closed. "Nothing?" We all ask her. "Steve, drive," Max forcefully says. "Okay," Steve whispers and starts the car, speeding off. Where do we go?" I ask for Steve. "The high school, I have her office key. We can look at Chrissy's file and maybe it will help us," Max explains. Steve nods in the front and puts his foot on the gas pedal more so we get there faster. 

"Dustin. It's Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin." Lucas rings through the walkie talky. "Lucas? Where the hell have you been?" Dustin says in the walkie. Thank god he's ok. "Just listen. Are you guys looking for Eddie?" Lucas asks. What the hell is this all about? "Yeah, we found him, no thanks to you," Dustin replies. "You found him?" Lucas asks, seeming to be relieved. I lean forward in my seat as Dustin says, "He's at a boathouse on Coal Mill Road. Don't worry. He's safe." "You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?" Lucas accuses. "That's bullshit. Eddie tried to save Chrissy," Dustin yells. "Then why do all the cops say he did it?" Lucas asks. Max reaches forward and takes the walkie from Dustin. "Lucas, you're so behind it's ridiculous, okay? Just meet us at the school. We'll explain later," Max snaps. "I... I can't. I think some real bad shit's about to go down," Lucas tells us. "What are you talking about? What bad shit?" I ask, interrupting Max. Instead of a reply, static comes through. "Lucas? Lucas?" Max asks into the walkie. "What the hell happened?" I ask, starting to feel worried for the boy on the other end. "I have no clue but we need to get to the school right now," Steve says, speeding quicker to the school.

At the school

We speed down the empty school halls, trying to get to Ms Kelly's office without being seen. Even though there shouldn't be anyone at school anyway. "Dustin, do you copy?" Robin asks through the walkie. Dustin fumbles a little to pick it up but says, "Yeah, I copy. "So, Nancy's a genius. Vecna's first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull's eye," Robin tells us. Great, now both of my best friends love her. "Okay, that's totally bonkers, but I can't really talk right now," Dustin tells them, all of us walking faster down the school halls. "Wait, what are you doing?" Robin asks him. I take the walkie from him and say, "Breaking and entering the school to retrieve some confidential and extremely personal files." "Can you repeat that?" She asks me. "Just come to the school right now Robs. We'll explain when you get here," I tell her before turning the walkie off.

Max runs in front of us and puts the key into the lock, looking around to make sure no one sees us and opening the door. We all slowly walk in and look around to try and see where the files are. Max and I see them and walk over. "It's like a mini-Watergate or something," Dustin whispers. I block him out and look over Max's shoulder to look at the files. Her fingers fly over them until she gets Chrissy's. "Holy shit," She whispers, looking at the ones closest to her and harder for me to see. "What is it?" I ask her. "You found it?" Steve asks, walking closer." "I did find it, but not just Chrissy's file. Fred was seeing Ms Kelly too," Max tells us. Oh shit, no, this can't be right. My breathing gets heavier as Max pulls out Fred's file. She grabs Chrissy's file and puts it on the desk, giving the other to Steve to read.

Steve sits on the desk and Dustin and I lean over one of Max's shoulders each, Max sitting at the desk chair. She flips through Chrissy's files and skims over everything, Dustin and I doing the same. Max seems to notice something and asks Steve, "Can I see Fred's file?" "Yeah," Steve says and gives it to her. She reads over the notes Ms Kelly wrote and I notice it too. They were both having the same symptoms. Headaches, nosebleeds, constant nightmares and trauma. "Max? What is it?" Dustin asks her, also realising she knows. Wait, I'm having those symptoms. Am I under Vecna's curse? But if Max noticed it... "Max?" I ask, scared to hell that she's gonna be next. Dustin also starts to freak out, calling out for Max. "Max!" I yell and round the table, looking into her eyes. "She's just blankly staring," I whisper, hope blooming a little. "Eddie said Chrissy's eye's rolled back, so she's ok right?" Dustin asks, also concerned about what's happening. The doors burst open and Robin and Nancy come in. "What's going on?" Nancy yells, looking at all of us panicked. Before we can say anything, Max seems to wake up.

"Max," I breathe out and get in her line of sight. She looks at me confused and looks around the room. "How am I back here?" she whispers, Robin and Nancy slowly moving closer. "What happened Max?" I softly ask, reaching for her hands. She looks up a little scared and says, "Something was calling my name. I was following it and there was an old grandfather clock around a corner." I nod and motion to the door. "Show us where it was," I ask, slowly standing up straight. She nods and moves as quickly as she can out the door. Everyone in the room springs into action and we all follow Max down the hall.

We round the corner and stop at a dead end, Max looking at it confused. "It was here. Right here," she says brokenly. "A grandfather clock?" Nancy asks her, Max nodding. "It was so real. And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just... I woke up," Max whispers to us. "It was like she was in a trance or something. Exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy," Dustin explains to Robin and Nancy. Max turns to us all and says, "That's not even the bad part." The rest of us look confused and Max walks back to Ms Kelly's office. She moves to the desk again and moves the note sheets for Chrissy and Fred in front of her.

"Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms Kelly for help," Max starts to explain to us all while we spread around the desk looking at her. "Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that wouldn't go away. And then... then the nightmares. Trouble sleeping. They'd wake up in a cold sweat. Then they started seeing things," Max explains to us. Robin turns a little in her seat to look at me but I shake my head, not wanting to worry her about this. Steve notices her and gives us a confused look but I shake my head at him as well. We have to focus on Max, not me. She is worse than me right now, if we focus on both of us something will slip. "Bad things. From their pasts. These visions, they just... they kept on getting worse and worse until eventually... everything ended," Max continues. "Vecna's curse," Robin says, spinning back around to look at Max. "Chrissy's headaches started a week ago. Fred's, six days ago. I've been having them for five days. I don't know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both die less than 24 hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddam clock, so... looks like I'm gonna die tomorrow," Max says, all of us going quiet.

A loud noise sounds behind us and we all turn around to see what it was. "Stay here," Steve says and starts walking to the door. I shake my head and follow right after him. He picks up the lamp sitting next to the door and walks out. I turn my flashlight off and hold it up, ready to hit something with it. "Do you not listen?" Steve hisses when he realises I'm behind me. I smile at him and shake my head, "Not if you go into danger alone." He smiles softly at me but rolls his eyes, moving down the hall again. As we walk I notice everyone else coming out the door behind us. Ha, no one listens to Steve. Another loud sound happens and I look around again, hoping to find the source. Loud footsteps start sounding in the hallway leading to us so Steve and I hold up our makeshift weapons. As someone comes around the corner, Steve starts to yell and moves closer to the person. They start yelling as well and step away from Steve. "Hey! It's me!" Lucas yells in a broken voice. "Lucas?" Nancy asks. "It's me," Lucas yells a little quieter. "Jesus, what's wrong with you Sinclair," Steve asks. "I'm sorry," He says. "I could've taken you out with this lamp!" Steve yells at him. "Sorry guys. Sorry," Lucas apologizes. Steve drops the lamp behind him as Lucas explains breathlessly, "I was... I was biking for eight miles. Give me a second. Shit." Lucas bends over near the wall and tries to catch his breath. "We've got a code red," Lucas tells us. "What?" Steve asks in disbelief.

Lucas moves past Steve and I and walks over to Dustin. "Dustin," He says while walking over. "I've been with Jason, Patrick and Andy, and they've gone like totally off the rails. They're trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is. You're in terrible danger," Lucas explains. I stiffen and move over to the boys. "All right. Yeah, that definitely sucks, but we've got bigger problems than Jason now," Dustin says. He looks back at Max but she looks away from our eyes. "We need to go, now!" I say, pushing the boys to the car. "What?" Lucas and Dustin say. Everyone else follows behind but doesn't say a word. "We are getting out of this school. We are going to lay low. And we are going to work out how the hell we are stopping this thing," I tell them, looking ahead to the door. Robin comes up behind me and grabs my elbow. "Y/n," She whispers, drawing my attention to her. I look over and see her nervousness. "I'll explain later," I whisper to her, knowing exactly what she wants to talk about. "Where are we going?" Steve asks as we get to the cars. I turn back to the group and look around, wondering where would be the safest place to go right now. "You guys could hide out in my basement. We hid El there for a long time, you should be no problem," Nancy tells us. We nod and get into the car, speeding off to the Wheelers as fast as we can.

#5 seasons #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie x reader #steve x reader #steve x eddie #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie x reader #robin x reader #stranger things

[flowerfan2]

Chapter 5 is up - featuring so much hurt/comfort, and where the fic earns it E rating.  Read it here on A03.  CW: accident.

*****

They meet for dinner at a sushi place in the center (the one next to the new Indian place? Or next to the good ice cream place?  Steve asks, and is pleased when Eddie’s favorite sushi place is his favorite too, because they also have Korean food, and Steve loves bulgogi).  Hawkins’ town center is full of restaurants, and banks, and precious little else.  Even the Pete’s has abandoned ship, apparently unable to compete with the Starbucks.  It’s apparently a problem many downtowns have, Eddie informs Steve, given the cost of rent and the continued increase in online shopping.

Steve is fascinated by Eddie’s job.  It seems so real to him, so professional.  They talk for a while about the various projects Eddie is working on, and then circle back, as expected, to Hawkins.

“You said yesterday that you didn’t think I’d be an ‘ally’ in Town Meeting.  But why would you need… allies?  Didn’t Hawkins ask for you to review the project?”

Eddie pulls a hair tie off of his wrist and proceeds to put his hair in a ponytail, then twist it all around until it’s more like the bun Steve’s seen him wear before.  “Not exactly.  The state Architectural Access Board develops and enforces regulations designed to make public buildings safe and functional for use by people with disabilities.  We need to approve the final design, or else the town would have to seek a variance, which can be expensive and isn’t always successful.  What I’m hoping for is that the committee listens to our feedback and really considers what will be best for the town.”

“And that isn’t keeping everything exactly the same, just because it has some vague historical connection?”  Steve asks, his eyes wide to convey the joke.

“Obviously.”  Eddie laughs.  “I know change is hard, but damn, it’s not as if these sidewalks were laid down in colonial times.  We aren’t talking about knocking down Paul Revere’s house or something.”

Steve pulls a face.  “Haven’t you heard?  It’s very important to preserve the ‘mid century modern’ landscape.’”

“At least it isn’t ugly.  You wouldn’t believe the lengths people will go to to preserve even ugly as shit towns, just because they’re afraid of the unknown – even when the unknown is just a different sidewalk material and it could really help people.”

They decide not to have dessert at the restaurant and instead walk down to the other end of the center to get ice cream.  Steve isn’t surprised that Eddie agrees that Tosco’s is the best ice cream in the town – it’s one of the best ice cream places anywhere, except maybe for its sister shop in Cambridge.  Eddie gets a milkshake, which Steve does find a little weird, but then he sees how Eddie is ever so casually looking at him while he sucks on the straw and realizes that Eddie may have an ulterior motive.  And if he does, it’s working.

Steve can hardly keep his mind on putting one foot in front of the other as they leave the shop, telling himself simultaneously not to get his hopes up and imagining how Eddie’s lips will feel on his, icy cold and sweet.  The shop is crowded with people coming in and out, and a woman with a wriggling toddler in her arms is entering as he and Eddie exit, so Steve pauses a moment to hold the door for them and smile at the kid.

Suddenly there’s a screech and a yell, and the sound of a car gunning its engine.  A man pushes by Steve and runs to where a pedestrian is lying by the side of the road and Steve is following him with his heart in his throat because the person who was apparently hit by a car is Eddie.

Read the rest of Chapter 5 on A03.

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #Stranger Things #Stranger Things fic

[chrisbitchtree]

April Prompt Challenge Day 20 - Secret

Full prompt list here

Today, we have a 5+1 fic - 5 times Steve lied to Billy, and 1 time he told him the truth

***

1.

Steve didn’t realize how truly scared his was to lose Billy again until he had him home from the hospital and safe in his arms. That first night, Steve laid in bed for hours, too scared to fall asleep, lest something happen to Billy while Steve was sleeping. He couldn’t even bear the thought of the other boy waking up from a nightmare without Steve there to comfort him. So, he started staying up, watching Billy sleep, making sure that he was breathing normally and wasn’t whimpering in fear because of something upsetting happening in dreamland.

Steve knew it wasn’t healthy, staying up like that. It was affecting his mental and physical health, and he was getting in trouble for sleeping on the job, Keith yelling at him to wake up before a customer could see him drooling on the counter. But he couldn’t tell Billy, because he didn’t want the other boy to feel like a burden.

He finally reached out to Dr. Owens when he found himself falling asleep at the wheel late one winter night. He worked hard with Owens to get himself to a place where he could admit that he was doing everything he could to help Billy be comfortable and happy, and let go of his fear enough to get some rest. Billy none the wiser, Steve could finally let himself off to dreamland, Billy warm and safe in his arms.

2.

Steve hated chocolate covered raisins. It felt like a dirty rotten trick every time he’d gone to his grandmas as a kid and would get a mouthful of raisins when he thought it was peanuts. His negativity surrounding them wasn’t helped by the time his dad had slapped him on the back of the head for spitting the raisins back into the candy dish. He was four! How was he supposed to know better?

For some reason though, Billy had gotten into his head that Steve loved them. He would buy them for Steve at the movies, sometimes he would show up at Family Video with them, and Steve’s Christmas stocking always had plenty of them. It was such a thoughtful gesture that Steve couldn’t find it in his heart to tell the other boy that he wasn’t a fan, so he would stuff his face with whatever he could tolerate before passing off the rest to Dustin or Robin. Thank God they had terrible taste.

3.

Once, in a terrible error in judgement, Billy had bought himself a single fairly large diamond earring. He had recently gotten a promotion at work and wanted to treat himself to something nice. After a lot of thought, he’d decided on jewelry. Steve had been thinking a new ring, or maybe a nice watch, or another pendant for his necklace.

Instead, he’d come home with the monstrosity shoved through his ear. Steve was frankly a little embarrassed to be seen in public with him, as much as it pained him to admit it even to himself. But Billy looked so happy every time he put it in that Steve just had to suck it up. Thankfully, for reasons he never mentioned to Steve, Billy, of his own accord, stopped wearing it, hopefully coming to his senses about how ridiculous he looked.

4.

Billy, for reasons that Steve could never understand, loved Metallica. To Steve, it just sounded like a lot of angry yelling with drums and guitars. But Billy rhapsodized about them. “Steve, listen to this. God isn’t this amazing?” he would shout, as Steve would sit in the passenger seat of the Camaro, wondering if Billy kept Tylenol in the glove compartment. He’d never told the other boy he liked them, he’d just accidentally bobbed his head along to it once, and it had snowballed when he’d seen the smile on Billy’s face, so he gritted his teeth and did his best to appear interested in them for the sake of winning Billy’s heart.

Steve had all their tapes, and wore t-shirts emblazoned with their logo, washing them repeatedly so that they wouldn’t look brand new when he wore them around Billy. Sometimes, when the other boy would start getting really into technical aspects of their music when talking to Steve about them, Steve would be forced to distract him with a kiss. But it worked, and Billy never needed to know that Steve would rather listen to a bunch of running chainsaws than his favourite band.

5.

When Steve pictured his perfect Saturday, it involved laying in bed until noon, then moving to the couch to lay there, and then ordering a pizza to eat after moving back to his bed. He loved to veg out. Billy’s idea of a perfect Saturday was just a little different. He wanted to move, and he wanted Steve to come with him.

Hiking, biking, long runs, lifting weights, if it worked up a sweat, Billy was there for it. Steve would be panting and dripping in sweat, just itching to plop down on the sofa for even five minutes, but up he’d go, to the gym or the park or the woods behind his house, in the best shape of his life, and completely miserable. But how do you deny the love of your life the chance to use his perfect body once he’s brought it back from the dead? To deny him the chance bask in the sun, the chance to feel a little more whole again every time? You don’t, so Steve kept his lips shut.

+1

Steve was so fucked. It had all started a month before, when he and Robin had gotten high one night, after Billy had gone to sleep. They’d been out on the back deck when they’d noticed a raccoon. Obviously, they had to feed it right? It had been adorable, chowing down on the leftover chicken that Steve had pulled out of the fridge for it.

It hadn’t been so adorable the next night when it had brought two of its friends with it. Or the next night when there were eight of them. He was in over his head with all of these things roaming around. He knew he should stop feeding them, so they’d go away, but what if they got angry? So, he kept indulging them after Billy would go to bed at night, until there were up to twenty a night. Billy had always insisted that they not feed the wildlife, but he couldn’t keep this a secret from him any longer. It was getting out of control.

He never imagined that he’d be met with laughter as Billy shook his head. “Only you would somehow end up with twenty pet raccoons, pretty boy. Only you. Let me get the phone book, and I’ll call animal control.”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #my fic #chrisbitchtree writes #harringrove april #april prompts #5+1 fic

[platypanthewriter]

Lazerbeamy Strongman

Day One of Harringrove AUgust, prompt: Superhero AU

Steve Harrington, newly hired reporter and resident Wholesome Nice Guy, kept sidling over to Billy’s desk to read his interview questions. It was hard enough coming up with questions for a superhero who could fly, hold up falling skyscrapers, and shoot lasers from his eyes. The memory of the pulse of blue light blowing out the engine block of the armed robber’s getaway car made Billy shudder.

‘Are the lasers under complete control,’ he typed. ‘Could you be startled into vaporizing the city?’

Directly behind his chair, Harrington snorted a laugh.

“Shut up, Hawkins Indiana,” Billy told him.

Harrington didn’t move.

“Cut this shit out, or I’m squirting you with a bottle,” Billy told him, through a bite of ham’n’rye sandwich. “You keep climbing all up in my business, you’re gonna get Lysol between the eyes.”

“Sorry,” Harrington said, looking abashed, but his eyes still strayed to Billy’s screen, and Billy grabbed the Lysol, spraying a whole cloud as Steve dove back to his own desk. He ducked his head as the editor of the Planet walked by.

A few hours later, Billy caught him staring at the list of questions again, from way too far away, really—it wasn’t like Harrington could actually read Billy’s screen from the coffee machine, but he looked suspiciously intent, so Billy stalked over.

“Can you see my questions from there?! Are those huge nerd frames telescopic, or—just—what the fuck, dude,” he muttered, squinting over at his desk. He could make out that Microsoft Word was open, maybe. Maybe. “How the hell,” Billy growled, turning his glower on Harrington, who stared innocently out the window, sipping his coffee.

“How could I possibly,” Harrington said, not meeting Billy’s eyes as he drank the last of his mug of coffee, and Billy took the last of the coffee in the pot just to spite him, and stalked off.

Ten minutes later, he scooted his chair back and hit Harrington’s jeans with his elbow, and Harrington stumbled back, like he hadn’t been reading over Billy’s shoulder. “Are you a fucking cat?!” Billy hissed. “I’m gonna get one of those invisible fences and shock you every time you try to sneak my interview questions—”

“You’re better at interviews than me,” Steve told him, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck in the annoyingly ‘aw, shucks’ way Billy was fairly sure couldn’t be sincere. “Just interested.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna have the opportunity to use these questions again,” Billy said drily. “Unless you’re gonna ask the next CEO you write up which planet he’s from, and how his clothes don’t burn off when he pulls people out of burning buildings.”

Harrington shrugged, grinning. “Um, I was actually gonna ask, what are you doing tonight? After wor—”

“Staking out the roof of the police department,” Billy told him, walking away to his desk—backwards, so he could yell. “He keeps leaving criminals up there. With notes! Thirty-percent higher chance on Friday nights!”

When the spandex-clad hero landed, cape aflutter, Billy leapt out. “To whom am I speaking?” he asked, in a breathless but calm professional voice.

“Just a moment, citizen,” said the hero, running his fingers through his hair and winking at Billy, and it was the first time he’d seemed like a real person, albeit a pickup artist, and not a comic book cliche.

He bent to handcuff three unconscious bruisers to the roof, prodding a muscled, fishnet-stockinged leg back towards the woman it belonged to. “Ah,” he said, when he stood back up, his hands on his hips like he’d practiced his dumb hero pose in the mirror. “I must go! Crime never waits!”

“What the hell,” Billy shouted after him, waving his notepad.

The next morning, Harrington looked smug. “How’d it go?” he asked, like he knew, and Billy sat on the asshole’s desk and drank, in turn, from both mugs of coffee. “Hey, isn’t that one mine?!” Harrington asked, and Billy stuck his tongue in it, swishing it around.

“Not anymore,” he said sweetly, and Harrington stared at him. “And it went great, obviously. He totally listened to his public and didn’t just fly off after acting like a shithead.”

“Wait, what’d he do?!” Harrington yelped, staring. “I—I read he, uh, he brought in the leaders of three different gangs!”

“Yeah, like a shithead,” Billy repeated, draining Harrington’s favorite mug, licking it, and handing it to him, empty. “And I froze my nuts off for four hours waiting for him to come back. That’s how it went. Shithead.”

“Oh,” Harrington said, frowning into his empty mug, as Billy wandered back to his desk with his own, ignoring Harrington’s mumbled “I mean, maybe—maybe he’s got to keep, like, his identity secret—”

“I didn’t ask for his goddamn alter ego, I was asking general shit,” Billy shot back, growling, and waving the hand without coffee in it. “Or I was going to!”

The next time Billy saw the shithead, he ran straight at him, dodging the falling debris, until abruptly he was flying.

“What are you doing,” the shithead hissed, his arms warm and strong as they carried Billy to the top of another damn building. “We’re under fire.”

“That’s your job,” Billy hissed at him. “My job is this damn interview. What kinds of disasters are you most likely to help with? Does Search and Rescue have your number?”

“Stay here,” the shithead commanded, and flew off, leaving Billy stranded on the top of a skyscraper. He spent the next hour trying to pinpoint the name of the building on Google Maps, before finally finding a number to call to let him in.

“I heard you ran right into the wreckage,” said Harrington, like he was worried, and Billy scoffed.

“I’ve worked warzones,” he said. “I can handle a car accident.”

“The viaduct collapsed,” Harrington said weakly, like a coward. “You were almost crushed by a flaming bus.”

“I also didn’t get even one question answered,” Billy muttered, glaring at the list on his screen, and Harrington stared from him to it. “I’m gonna have to grappling hook that shithead.”

“Um,” Harrington said, wincing. “He seems kind of...busy, usually, when he’s—”

“So am I,” Billy told him, reaching up and prodding his coworker’s shoulder. “I have won Pulitzers, I have better shit to do than spend my nights shouting questions at some shithead who can’t be assed to tell anyone his name, let alone answer some basic peace-of-mind questions like—” he made air quotes, “—‘to what degree do you feel obligated to help humanity?’”

“He’s kind of new,” Harrington said, wincing. “Maybe he doesn’t have, a um, a super...name, yet? Maybe he doesn’t want to say, like, ‘hello, good citizen, I am Lazerbeamy Strongman’—”

“Oh jesus,” Billy snorted, choking on his coffee.

“Hello, I’m Captain Awesomesauce,” Harrington groaned, his cheeks red for some reason. “I’m Rad-Dude.”

“Oh fuck me,” Billy coughed out, cackling. “So you’re saying he’s a moron.”

“I did not,” Harrington huffed, and Billy grinned at him.

“Are you a fan, Harrington? I saw you run right over to look at the latest pictures of him. That why you’re trying to edge in on my interview?”

“No!” Harrington groaned, rolling his eyes. “I just think you put all this...thought into this, and maybe he’s just helping out, you know, like anybody. Like if somebody calls the police on a purse snatcher, you don’t ask them why, or like, how much help they’re gonna be in future—”

“He wears a cape,” Billy pointed out. “He put a goddamn cape on, and he’s wearing some kind of themed onesie, and he says stuff like ‘Hello, innocent bystander,’ and that’s all weird as hell, so he better answer some questions. This isn’t somebody who was just there—he came on purpose, and he doesn’t want people to know who he is, or he’d talk to me—”

“Heroes wear capes!” Harrington argued, rolling his eyes again. “Maybe it’s a little creepy when you ambush people. On the roof of the police station.”

“We gotta call him something,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes. “He can answer my questions, or he can have every investigator in three cities trying to figure out his angle. He’ll be a police file five inches thick by this weekend.”

“Oh no,” Harrington said, wide-eyed, and Billy snorted.

“The hell d’you care?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “You think he’s a moron who calls himself Lazerbeamy Strongman.”

“No,” Harrington said quickly, grimacing. “No, I just, uh. It’d...it’d suck if he’s just...trying to help.”

“If he’s just trying to help, he can give me something reassuring to publish, even if it’s just that he’s calling himself ‘Mr. Neato McCheeto’. People need to hear that he’s not going to use those laser eyes to shoot planes out of the sky.”

“Fuck you, he’s helping,” Harrington said sullenly, covering a snicker.

When Billy left for lunch, he bought the guy one of the badly painted caped bobbleheads already circulating the city, and left it on his desk.

“Oh no,” he heard Harrington say in horrified tones when he found it.

The third time Billy caught the new superhero, he was flying everyone to the tops of buildings. “Oh, fuck you,” Billy groaned, his body held in strong arms while his hands investigated the texture of the cape.

“She turned the ground into actual lava,” the shithead hissed at him. “I’ll get you down when you can walk without turning into a pillar of flame.”

“You better be back within the hour, or I will step off the edge,” Billy threatened, and the shithead groaned. “What’s your cape made of?” Billy yelled after him.

“I’ll come get you,” the shithead yelled back, and Billy sat down to wait, and write some preliminary scene setting. Metropolis’ newest hero shuffles a street of pedestrians onto the roofs of buildings in under a minute, before emptying the cars. Below him, Shithead was dodging around, trying to talk to the small child waving a wand and spraying lava.

Shithead did reappear, though, within the hour. He wasn’t even panting or sweating, and Billy eyed him with extreme dislike. He took the other people down, and Billy yelled threats after him, fully expecting to get stranded again, but Shithead flew back up and floated in front of him, his arms folded like Billy was supposed to be impressed.

“I’ll answer your questions,” he muttered, glowering.

“What’s your name,” Billy asked, wasting no time, because the wind on the skyscraper was sliding through his coat like he was naked. He shivered, turtling deeper into his scarf, and Shithead reached out, his hand twitching towards Billy.

“We—I can take you somewhere else? Somewhere warmer,” he offered awkwardly.

“Somewhere there’s coffee,” Billy growled, and the shithead laughed, grinning at him, and then stepped close to lift Billy again, but didn’t do it.

He just stood so close Billy could feel him breathing, holding his arms up like a scarecrow, and Billy groaned and turned to put his arms around the neck of a goddamn superhero and got scooped up like he was a damsel in distress. He sighed, disgusted, as Shithead took them back to the Daily Planet, dropped down past the roof, and landed them on the glassed-in balcony where Billy went when it was a choice between 1) smoke or 2) commit homicide.

Billy stared. “Have you been watching me,” he hissed, and the damn hero raised his hands.

“There’s coffee here,” he said, grimacing, and Billy stalked past him, by Harrington’s desk—the slacker was missing, and Billy snorted dismissively, and then remembered not everyone had had a ride back through the freezing wind. He shivered so hard as he poured the coffee he nearly spilled it, and whispered a brief prayer to Saint Drogo, patron saint of coffee and the insane, for his intervention in saving Billy’s water of life. The first sip told him it had been sitting on the burner, and his tongue curled in his mouth, his nose wrinkling, but he could feel it warming his veins and brain.

Shithead was still waiting on the balcony, frowning out over the city, and Billy watched him, taking another sip of the acrid coffee.

“Why d’you float like that,” he asked, and the weirdo blinked at him.

“Oh, um,” he said, frowning down, and reddening. “Uh, is this...on the record?”

“...not if you say it isn’t,” Billy said, leaning back into a creaky plastic chair, and putting his feet up on another.

“This outfit is sturdy enough to not burn up, but the feet get dirty if I walk,” Shithead said, grimacing.

“Your footie pajamas get dirty if you walk outside,” Billy said flatly, sighing. “This is an amazing start. On the record now—what’s your name, hero?”

“Oh! Ummm,” he said, wincing.

“Christ,” Billy groaned, pinching his brows together.

“"I'm...very...strong...ness..." the moron trailed off, and Billy stared at him.

“Try again,” he said.

“My sidekick—”

“You have a sidekick,” Billy interrupted, holding his pen up. “Nobody’s seen a sidekick.”

“He tells me when things happen, so I can help. He doesn’t go out there,” Shithead said, looking horrified, and for once sounding reasonable.

“Ah. Carry on,” Billy said, writing sidekick?? in the margin to address later.

“He thinks I should go by Encyc—oh, no,” he slapped a fist into his hand in realization, “It was Atlas,” the unnamed hero said, and Billy narrowed his eyes.

“Fair enough,” he said, about to ask why that didn’t out-rate ‘Very Strongness’, but the shithead crossed his arms with a huff.

“It makes no sense, I’m not a book,” he said, and Billy stared at him.

“You’re exactly the moron he thought you were,” he said disbelievingly. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey! I—I just—I saved you from lava,” Shithead protested. “I saved you from a falling bus!”

“We gotta workshop this,” Billy said, groaning into his hands. “I’ll help you, because you did do all those things. And more to the point, I can’t make every news agent in the city say something that stupid every time you’re in the news.”

“What about Superguy,” the hero asked, leaning in enthusiastically. “Great...dude? Mister Awesome!”

“Fuck my life,” Billy sighed, laughing in despair. “What about something based on your powers—”

“Muscle-lasers! Musclasers?” the idiot suggested excitedly, and Billy smacked himself in the face again.

“What about just like...Knight Errant. You’ve got that kind of...shield shape on your chest—”

“Oooo,” Shithead said, floating closer, and Billy put a foot up and nudged him further away. “Because just Knight could get confusing, huh, like on the radio,” he said, and Billy wondered whether he did have a brain, and it just shorted out, like, most of the time. Maybe it was the lasers.

“D’you want to see the sunset,” Knight Errant asked, and Billy blinked at him. “You’re off work, right? I promise I won’t run, I’ll answer your questions,” he said, grimacing. “But...do you? The sunset over the city?”

As a career reporter in Metropolis, Billy could hardly refuse, and he tried to remind his libido of that while he lay cradled in strong arms, warm against Knight Errant’s chest, watching the sun set and the lights come on all over his city.

He was close enough to hear the hero’s stomach growl, and they got sandwiches from a street cart to chomp on during the interview. After that, Knight Errant flew them to a small loft apartment on the edge of the industrial district, and Billy wandered around trying the faucets, fascinated by how normal it all was.

“My apartment’s off the record, right?” Knight Errant asked, with belated nervousness.

“Yeah, sure,” Billy laughed. “I protect my sources. So. You...get hungry?” Billy asked, watching him put away enough food for four people.

“I’m just a person,” Knight Errant muttered, wiping mustard off his chin. He’d taken his cape off, and pushed the onesie down to his waist. In the dim light of the city, he looked familiar, though Billy couldn’t place him—and attractive, the shadows on his abs and arms making him look like he’d been painted in chiaroscuro.

It felt like a date, was the thing.

“Search and rescue does have my number, or a way to get ahold of me, anyway.” Knight Errant sighed. “There’s nowhere in the outfit for a phone. I mean, it’d melt, anyway, first time I flew into a burning building,” he pointed out, and Billy nodded slowly, talking to a hero about his revealing costume, and wondering whether he’d been sucked into the Twilight Zone.

“There sure isn’t anywhere to hide anything,” he agreed, remembering.

“Sometimes I don’t help them,” Knight Errant confessed. “—but I can’t—I help where I can. I have to sleep too.”

“You sleep?” Billy asked, cocking his head at the shadowy king-sized bed in the corner. He wondered whether the moron had different-patterned footie pajamas to sleep in, possibly with sheep on them. And a woolly sheep cape.

“I sleep. I have a job,” the man sighed.

“Thanks for saving me from the lava,” Billy said, belatedly. “And I...probably would’ve been crushed by that bus.”

“Anytime,” the hero of Billy’s city said, stepping close with a grin. “You have to be more careful. I’d hate to lose my favorite reporter.”

“You talk to all the others already?” Billy asked, laughing, his heart pounding as he stepped closer.

“Nah. I know it’ll always be you,” the moron said, grinning with an incomprehensible mixture of mischief and sweetness, and Billy kissed him.

The next morning, Billy hitched a ride to work in the arms of his superhero. He took the time to straighten his jacket and tie after the wind, and found Harrington at his desk, holding a mug of coffee, his eyes huge and weird in the absurdly thick glasses.

“Had a good night?” he asked, smugly, and Billy shot him a suspicious glare, and flipped him off.

Here’s the rest of my Harringrove (and everything else)

#Harringrove #Harringrove AUgust #Superhero AU #SPread the word y'all #There's a Harringrove August collection on Ao3 #Put your rad stuff in it!

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part seven

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: violence? (not much though), knives, bad crying

word count: 3545

a/n: this is part seven!! i have no idea where this is going, so we’re all being shocked by the events occurring :) i’m proud of this one

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

watch your six series m.list

ray’s m.list

“Okay, just lay back, this might be a bit jarring for you, so sorry in advance.” This woman couldn’t have been much older than you. You were still a bit fuzzy on what exactly was going to be happening, despite her already explaining everything.

Your eyes passed over the group around you. Tony Stark was behind a clear topped table with tools scattered over it, tinkering with his suit helmet. He was muttering about how he hated HYDRA blasters while the eye slits of his faceplate flickered between blue and a lifeless gray. Natasha Romanoff was sitting next to Clint Barton. Natasha was speaking to Clint, her gaze not leaving your form. Clint was oblivious to what was going on around him as he began reloading his quiver.

Steve Rogers was in the corner with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Steve was standing facing away from you, arms crossed over his chest as he spoke with Sam. Bucky was leaned against a table, sharpening a knife that he held with his metal hand. Honestly, the action made your jaw clench every scrape. You locked eyes with his steely blue pair, he didn’t blink, attempting to assert dominance or whatever an alpha male would do.

Fingers snapped in front of your face which brought your attention back to Wanda. “I need you to lay back.” A deep breath passed through your lungs, exhaling heavily through your mouth. Swinging your legs onto the table, you straightened your body, settling your arms at your sides. “I’m going to place my hands at your temples and then we’ll begin, okay?” You were thankful that she was making sure you knew what was going on. Nodding in response, you closed your eyes at her instruction and she began counting backwards from three.

Streaks of red danced behind your lids and you could feel your eyes trying to follow them. You swallowed harshly as a memory jolted to the forefront of your mind. You were thrown head first into the recollection.

Gemini stared at you, snapping her fingers in front of your face like Wanda did. “Hello? Are you with us or not?” Her black hair swayed against her shoulders. “Libs, I’m going to need you to quit drifting. If you do that on a mission, it could be life or death.” She berated you, walking to her half of your quarters. Your head shook back and forth, mouth moving with the memory.

“Yes ma’am.” You snickered at her, sticking your tongue out at her shocked expression. “When do you think they’re going to assign me a mission?” You were practically bouncing off the walls at the thought alone. Unbeknownst to you, this wasn’t all in your head. Wanda could see the memory in real time, but the others could hear your end of the memory as well. You couldn’t stop your mouth from voicing your half of the conversation.

“You know, I don’t know the answer to that, Libby.” Gemini pulled her desk chair out, straddling it backwards, resting her forearms on it. “You just need to have some patience. It’ll come, just give it time.” You groaned and raised your body into a sitting position, leaning forward with your palms on the edge of your bed.

“I don’t like waiting, Gem. Part of the reason why I fast tracked through the training program.”

“You fast tracked through the training program because you were naturally good at everything we threw at you, Libra. No other reason than that.” She laughed at your facial expression. The Avengers around you were confused as to why your face morphed into one of annoyance.

“That may be the case, but I still got into the Virago. And on top of that, I’m the youngest of the Zodiac.” A proud smile stretched across your face. “Plus, I got teamed up with you and let’s be honest, that’s the real accomplishment here.” She shot you a look and you both giggled. A ping sounded from the sound system in the ceiling.

Zodiac meeting in ten minutes. Be in the conference room and ready by the time I get there or there will be consequences.

“Oh, looks like you might be getting a mission sooner rather than later, Lib.” Your eyes widened at the possibility, excitement rushing through your veins.

“Or they could be just calling us in to yell at us again for sucking it up in training.” Your body shuddered as you thought about a few weeks ago. Your CO had hired help from some elite company to assist with the Zodiac training. It didn’t end well when you didn’t meet their standards. “Let’s hope it’s a mission, that would be way better.”

Your body jolted and you fell off the table, quickly catching yourself before you completely face planted into the concrete floor beneath you. Pushing yourself to sit your ass on the cold floor, you looked around the group. Confused faces were spreading, Natasha and Bucky seemed resigned, as if they had more knowledge. Wanda helped lift you onto your feet, checking to make sure you were okay.

“I’ve had dreams about that place before, about those people.”

“You didn’t think that was important to tell us?” Tony sassed from behind his table. “If you had memories resurfacing, then that means you went through something to suppress them. Like Tin Man over there.” He jerked his head to Bucky, who had a solemn look on his face. He had stopped sharpening at some point, and now he was talking to Steve about something.

“You have something you want to share with the class, Barnes?” You were so done with secrets being kept from you. Everyone around you seemed to know what was going on with your life more than you did. Steve stared at you from beside Bucky, hands on his hips, accentuating his Dorito shaped torso.

“I remembered something about the Virago.” Was all he replied with. You were waiting on him to elaborate on what he meant.

“Wonderful. What did you remember about it? I’d really like to know what the hell is happening.” You started towards the man across the room. He had information that he wasn’t giving the room at large to work out. “And if you’re the thing that’s preventing me from going back to my normal life, we might have a problem, Barnes. So, if you would oh-so-kindly, provide all of us with your newly discovered knowledge, that would be greatly appreciated.”

You had made it about the halfway spot of the room when Bucky silently unsheathed his recently sharpened knife and aimed it at you. Time slowed as you watched the blade spin through the air. You moved your upper half to the right, dodging the slice and catching it with your left hand. Your body continued without your guidance as you rushed Bucky, pushing the blade to his throat. Blinking brought you out of your dazed state as you recognized that you were now pressing the sharp object hard enough against his neck to draw blood.

Retreating quickly you dropped the knife to the ground. A resounding ring reverberated through the now silent room. Your hands shook and tears gathered at your waterline. What the fuck was that?

“The Soldier was tasked with training the Zodiac, current and future.” Bucky’s rasp was the only noise beside your exaggerated breaths. “I knew you were going to catch it, by the way. It’s instinct for you.” He leaned his weight back against the table, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Wanda was the next to speak.

“You realize you just scared the shit out of all of us, right?” You weren’t quite sure if she was referring to you or Bucky, but you guessed it didn’t really matter. You swallowed harshly, biting back the need to cry. Who the fuck am I?

“I’ve heard of the Zodiac.” Natasha was next, still sitting comfortably atop the table next to Clint, legs crossed underneath her. “They were like the Americanized version of the Red Room’s elite. It started out as a SHIELD organization but that didn’t last long. As soon as HYDRA found out, they figured out how to take it over. I think their first plant was a woman named Bianca?”

“What else do you remember?” Steve was commanding the room as you thought he would. It wasn’t until he placed a hand on your shoulder that you realized he was talking to you. “We need you to walk us through your dreams, Y/N. Just so we can get a clearer picture, it’ll probably help spark Bucky and Nat’s memories too.” He shifted his hand to hover over your lower back, guiding you back to the hard table. Climbing up, you closed your eyes and recalled the other two dreams.

“Um, I remember getting my first mission assignment? Actually, it might have been my only mission assignment.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it didn’t end well?” You said in a duh tone, gaining your confidence again. You had no reason to lose it before, you just found out that you were kind of a bad ass. “The whole group was tasked with getting some data from this Louis Richardson guy? He was a part of the Svengali, that was what Suits kept asking about. Supposedly Richardson was a high up guy because they put all of us on that one.” You shook your head, trying to clear up the memories. “It was my first assignment, so clearly I was excited to prove myself a useful addition to the Zodiac.”

“What was the mission exactly?” Tony questioned from his spot.

“Half of us were monitoring the party, making sure if there was a fight that the public didn’t cause a riot. The other half was Plan B. We sat outside the safe house Richardson was allegedly using if his drop went south.” Your breaths shuddered again, recalling what happened next. “Of course, it did. We were only supposed to monitor it, but Gem decided that the info was too valuable to let it slip by us. So, we went in and everything went to shit.”

“My instructors talked about that. They said that they killed everyone though. How did you manage to slip by?” Natasha asked, shooting you an inquiring glance.

“Obviously, she didn’t because they had to wipe her memory, like Manchurian Candidate.”

“Gemini and I were the last ones left and then she sacrificed herself so I could escape, get back to headquarters, those were her orders. Stop drifting, watch my six and run like hell to HQ.”

“Well, that’s how they were able to wipe her.” Bucky added quietly, his mind elsewhere.

“If HYDRA had already taken over the Virago, then they would’ve been able to take her without question.” Natasha finished Bucky’s thought as she watched you on the table. Steve stood next to you, squeezing your shoulder as a comfort. You glanced at him and saw a motherly expression had taken over his features.

“Why would they wipe everything though? They still could’ve used her?” Wanda questioned from her position next to Tony. “I mean, if you were a natural like Gemini said that you were, then I’m sure HYDRA would’ve found something to do with you.” Bucky walked out of the room quickly, leaving the rest of the occupants stunned as to his sudden departure. Steve jutted his head at Sam who followed Bucky. Tony was working through all the facts tumbling around in his head. He began talking to Friday about gathering any information she could find on Louis Richardson and several other things. You sat in silence, continuing to sort through half broken memories and dreams.

**********************************************

Bucky had to get out of that room and away from that woman. Sensory overload was overwhelming him, increasing his need to evacuate. He stepped outside, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass. He dropped his head into his hands, sinking to his knees on the ground. Bucky despised being vulnerable in front of people. During his time as the Soldier, vulnerability was punished harshly. He was used to swallowing his emotions, shoving them into the dark corners of his mind. Now being free of HYDRA's grip on his mind, he still struggled with displaying his emotions. All he wanted to do was shout until his throat was raw and his voice scratchy.

“You okay, man?” Bucky had figured it would be Sam. An almost neutral third party with experience in counseling veterans, plus Steve was busy dealing with Y/N. Bucky continued to inhale deeply from his crouched position, not responding to the man behind him. Sam took his increasingly calming breaths as a sign that he wasn’t about to keel over. He came up next to the man, stretching his hand out to Bucky for him to grab. “Come on, old man. Talk to me, what’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Bucky shot the man a weak glare, while pulling himself to his feet, resting his hands on his hips. He brought his right hand up to rake through his dark hair.

“I remembered something else, Sam, and I just couldn’t be in there with her anymore.”  Sam hesitated to ask, almost afraid of the answer that he was going to receive, but he knew he needed to.

“What did you remember, Bucky?” There was a heavy pause hanging in the air between the two. They both knew what Bucky had remembered, but it needed to be said out loud to be real.

“Her screams.” There were tears gathering on Bucky’s bottom lashes, threatening to spill over. Sam outstretched his hand to Bucky, not offering pity to the man on his knees. Sam knew what it felt like to be pitied, not a feeling that he wanted to bestow Bucky with.

“You’re going to be okay, man. It’s going to take time, but it’ll happen.” He faltered before continuing, “You know you’re going to have to talk to her about it, right? If you remember, she will too eventually. Especially if she keeps working with Wanda, they’re going to get to that point. It’ll be better to hear it from you than for her to waltz in there unprepared.” Bucky nodded solemnly, bringing his right hand up to scratch his stubble.

“I know.” His voice shook slightly. “But how do you tell someone that you didn’t do anything while they got tortured and experimented on?” Sam’s eyes searched Bucky’s for any sign that he was forgiving himself. What Bucky did when he was under HYDRA’s thumb wasn’t his fault, but this was going to set Bucky back.

“Look, you know that was the Soldier who just stood to the side because you, Bucky Barnes, would’ve done something.” Sam reassured the man with silent tears tracking down his face. He placed his hand on Bucky’s metal shoulder before giving it a squeeze. “Damn it, I can never remember which one it is.” They laughed at his comment, Bucky knew it was for his benefit but he was thankful for it.

The pair entered the compound again, hoping to avoid anyone for a few minutes so Bucky could recollect himself. They weren’t that lucky though seeing as how when they walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, the whole team plus one was gathered around the granite countertops. If any of them noticed Bucky’s red-rimmed eyes, they chose not to say anything, thank fuck for that one.

“We’ve decided that Y/N will be staying here for the foreseeable future.” Tony piped up, breaking the silence that hung over the group. “She’s going to continue to work with Wanda for her memories.”

“I still don’t like this Tony.” It wasn’t often that Steve openly disagreed with Tony, so when he did, it turned heads. “She shouldn’t have to go through with this for us.” Tony opened his mouth to reply when Y/N spoke first.

“Excuse you, Captain. She’s right here and she can make her own decisions.” Her arms crossed over her chest defensively. “You seem to be forgetting that there is a whole part of my life that has been stolen from me. I want it back. If I have to do this to get it back, then that’s what I’m going to do. Helping you is secondary, I just want to make that clear.” A smirk formed on Bucky’s lips, no one stands up to Steve, mostly because he’s usually right.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Tony turned to leave, probably going to his lab to tinker his anxiety away. He pointed a finger at Y/N on his way out. “I like you.” A satisfied grin spread over her features, she’s proud of herself. The first thought that popped into Bucky’s head was that she was being adorable, but he quickly squashed that idea. Not happening, you let her get hurt there’s no way that she’s going to want you. Bucky didn’t sense Steve approach him, too lost in his head.

“You good, Buck?” The man wanted to say no. He wanted to have his Stevie back with the couch cushions on the floor and the newspapers in his shoes. He wanted to go back to 1941, before he got drafted. He wanted to go back to his Ma’s cooking and playing with Rebecca. Hell, he wanted to go back to pulling stick-man Steve out of back alley fights. However, Bucky knew that wasn’t how it worked.

“Yeah, I’ll get there.” Bucky knew that he had it good now. The Internet, less boiled things, no Polio, this unfortunately was a good time period to be stuck in. He just hated that he missed everything else. He missed Rebecca graduating high school and walking her down the aisle, it hurt his heart to think about all the things he wasn’t involved in.

“Where am I staying, room-wise?” Y/N’s voice cut through Bucky’s thoughts, allowing him to refocus on the matters at hand. He needed to figure out how to tell Y/N what he remembered, and that he was sorry, but that will come later.

“There’s an empty room next to Wanda and Vision, I think?”

“Yeah, that’s not a good idea, they’re loud.” Clint cut in, then leaned towards Y/N. “Pillow fights.”

“Okay, well then there’s one next to Sam’s.” Natasha replied, making a face at Clint’s comment. Bucky stiffened as he pictured their room’s hall. The first door on the left was Steve and Bucky’s was next to his. Across the hall was Sam’s room in front of Steve’s and the empty room was opposite Bucky’s. He wasn’t thrilled with the arrangement, but he also wasn’t going to argue with Natasha, not after what happened the last time he did.

“Sick, will someone show me where it’s at?” Steve volunteered, needing to get something from his own room anyway. Bucky sighed heavily at Sam who was wearing an encouraging expression.

*********************************************

“Okay, so this is my room and Sam’s is here.” Steve held his arm up to pick out each room. “This is Bucky’s next to mine and then this is you.” It did make you feel a bit better knowing that you were surrounded by some of the most skilled fighters ever. “Bucky has an apartment in the city, so he’s not usually here. He uses this room when he’s here for missions or check-ups, but Sam and I are always here. We’re either training recruits or out on a mission.” You bobbed your head in acknowledgement.

“I’m going to have to get some of my stuff from my apartment, clothes and shit like that. Those bastards took my laptop so I’ll need to go get another one of those, too.” Steve faltered.

“Why do you need a laptop?”

“I do still have a job, Steven. Not all of us are superheroes or world class assassins. I’ve got to make a living somehow, and that somehow is actually-- oh my god.”

“What? Is everything okay?” Steve became concerned so easily.

“Yes, I just realized that I need to call my boss.”

“Look, Y/N. You’re going to have to take a leave of absence or something. Just while we figure all this stuff out. If you’re posting things online or you’re talking to people over the phone, then you can be easily tracked back to the compound.” Steve placed his hands on his hips. “It’s just easier for everyone, if you just lay low for a while. No work, no outside communication.” Your jaw clenched.

“That’s fucking ridiculous. How am I supposed to make a living, Steve? I can’t just live in constant fear because of this. I want to be able to carry on with my life.”

“If HYDRA gets ahold of you, you won’t have a life to carry on with.” Steve had taken steps closer to you. You gulped causing him to back up. “You’re going to work with Wanda and follow our rules. This is for your own good, Y/N, I swear it is.” Nodding numbly, you opened your room door and flopped onto the bed as soon as you saw it. How the hell did I get myself involved in this?

**********************************

@indigo123789 @austynparksandpizza @zozebo

#watch your six #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james barnes fanfic #james barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan

[musette22]

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet

You Make My Heart Skip a Beet

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)

Word count: 3.8k

Rating: Teen and Up

A/N: Based on this lovely prompt by @greyhoundsgirl​. I have to be honest here, I’ve never actually seen Top Chef though so I thought it would be safer to make up a new fictional amateur cooking competition which I’ve titled Chef Wars :p 

No warnings to speak of, apart from maybe for awful food puns, but it is a bit of a cracky piece, and it’s in Sam POV (poor guy). Hope you enjoy!! 💗 Huge thanks to the amazing @rainbowsandcoconut​ for brainstorming, food puns and awesome beta’ing, as usual 😘

Read on AO3

Summary:

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

****************************

When Sam and Steve had first been approached about being guest judges on an Avengers-themed special of Chef Wars, they’d spent a full fifteen minutes jumping around the common room in the Tower like a pair of overgrown kids on a sugar high.

Guest judges. On Chef Wars.

It so happens that Sam and Steve watch Chef Wars religiously. In fact, Steve even mentioned this in passing in one or two of his more recent interviews when asked how Captain America likes to spend his downtime, which is probably how the show’s executives had thought to invite them in the first place.

Sam’s love for cooking and cooking shows was passed down to him by his mother Darlene, and he, in turn, passed it on to Captain America – though if you’d told ten-year-old Sam that, he would’ve thought you were nuts. Poor Steve isn’t exactly the culinary sort of guy himself, but once Sam started turning up on his doorstep three nights a week to keep him company and make sure he didn’t sink further into depression, he’d slowly started to enjoy the shows Sam insisted on watching with him. Sam figured the familiarity of the actions and the low stakes of an amateur cooking competition would be perfectly suited to someone trying to integrate into a new century, while still being just exciting enough to hold the attention of an adrenaline junkie like Steve.

And he was right. So now, every Thursday night, the two of them chill on Steve’s couch, yelling at the TV and pretending they‘d do a better job of it than the contestants. Which, to be fair, Sam probably would, but Steve decidedly would not. What Steve lacks in culinary skills, though, he more than makes up for with his crazy supersoldier metabolism, rivaled only by the Other Guy and sometimes Thor, once he’s cracked open the mead. Steve can eat, and he does so with relish.

So needless to say, when they got the invite, they’d both jumped at the chance. Who wouldn’t, when presented with the opportunity to do the thing they did every Thursday night for funsies, but this time for realsies? And after weeks of giddy anticipation, today is finally the day.

Filming day.

The whole thing had gotten off to an excellent start. The sun was shining, Steve had actually been whistling on their way to the studio instead of nervously drumming his fingers on the dashboard (something which got on Sam’s nerves like nothing else), and they’d been offered some quality Italian espresso when they arrived. The show got on the road as soon as they’d gotten a quick tour of the studio, and after lights, camera, action, the contestants were introduced one by one.

There is Bernadette, a Missouri housewife who turned out to be somewhat of a BBQ expert and who reminds Sam of his Aunt Jenna; there’s Bob, a big, burly dude from Kentucky who wouldn’t look amiss on a Pro Wrestling show but who ends up surprising them all with a surprisingly delicate edible flower-dish dedicated to his lovely wife; and Yulia, a tiny, fierce girl from Bulgaria with some mean knife skills who Sam suspects could very well be a distant relative of Natasha’s.

And then there’s Bucky Barnes.

Bucky Barnes is a thirty-one-year-old physical therapist from Brooklyn who’s looking to change careers and get into the restaurant business full time. He has that whole hipster vibe going on: long, meticulously conditioned chestnut hair in a messy top knot, designer stubble, sleeve of – admittedly awesome – tattoos on his left arm. His cool, blue eyes and sharp cheekbones give him a model-like appearance, and yet there’s something soft and disarming about him.

Steve certainly seems to think so, at least.

The moment Barnes came walking through those glass doors, Sam heard Steve suck in a sharp breath at his side. A quick glance at Steve’s slack-jawed expression told Sam all he needed to know, since the dude is about as subtle as a sledgehammer. He’d elbowed Steve in the side until he looked over and pretended to wipe some drool from the corner of his mouth. Steve’s eyes went wide as he hastily mirrored the movement, missing the joke by about fifty yards. Oh, boy.

From that moment onward, Steve’s brain seemed to have gone through a blender, turning it into a rainbow smoothie – which was pretty unfortunate, considering they were going to have to interact with the contestants in a way that was suitable for daytime television.

The thing is, Steve is not exactly what you’d call a people person at the best of times. He’s fine with someone he’s known for a while and feels comfortable with, but with strangers he’s just… a little awkward. Credit where credit’s due, Steve is one of the most loyal, sweet, funny and whip-smart guys Sam has ever known – and let’s not forget stubborn as hell – but he’s also very, very bad at social cues. It’s not his fault, of course. Steve had gone from growing up pretty isolated without any real friends to speak of, to suddenly spending years surrounded only by his army buddies, which wasn’t at all representative for how normal people interacted with each other (Sam knows this from experience).

While Steve’s many social faux-pas are an endless source of entertainment for Sam, he’s not a total asshole, and he has tried to help Steve practice his social skills. Unfortunately, giving him well-meaning advice like “just be yourself” seems to be a sure-fire way to ensure Steve will put his foot in his mouth somehow.

That’s why Steve prefers to put on his Cap persona for public interactions. When he’s Captain America instead of Steve Rogers, all he has to do is look commanding and sort of friendly and say bland things like “I’m very happy to be here” and “You did well, son” and no one would be any the wiser that beneath that righteous exterior, Steve was floundering and wondering when he could reasonably leave whatever social engagement Pepper had sweet-talked him into attending, and head home to the comfort of his armchair and his sketchbook.

For today’s engagement, Steve had wisely adopted this approach as well, and the fact that he was genuinely excited to be there helped to loosen him up a little – so really, it should’ve all been fine.

But then Bucky Barnes from Brooklyn walked into the room and turned his big, blue eyes in Steve’s direction, and Steve promptly seemed to forget who or what a Captain America even was.

So far, Steve has already missed his cue twice, and it’s taken Sam stepping on his toes to get him to focus. To be fair, though, Steve puts in a valiant effort to pull himself together, managing to ooh and aah in all the right places when talking to the other candidates – sheer dumb luck, if you ask Sam. But as Steve’s best friend and confidante, Sam sees right through it. He hasn’t missed the way Steve’s gaze keeps drifting in Barnes’ direction, and coupled with the blush creeping up the back of Steve’s neck whenever Barnes’s eyes meet his, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Cap has got himself a Manhattan-sized crush.

Now, most people probably aren’t aware that Captain America is also attracted to men, but Sam has a feeling that by the end of this episode, that cat will be most definitely out of the closet. Steve’s never purposely hid his sexuality; it was more of a question of it never having come up yet. It sure as hell has come up now.

And what makes this even better is that Barnes is just as bad. He stuttered his way through his introduction, very obviously starstruck at meeting Captain America, but also very obviously gay as hell for him, if the way his eyes lingered on Steve’s chest and thighs is any indication. Sam, for his part, is incredibly amused by it all. Not only does he get to be on the set of his favorite cooking show, he also gets to rib Steve, throwing in as many food puns as he possibly can – most of which go over Steve’s head because he’s too busy drooling over Barnes. Sam’s wit is wasted on his friends.

Then, it’s time to judge. In the first round, the contestants are supposed to make something which represents why they got into cooking in the first place.

Sam can feel Steve practically vibrate with nerves at his side as they walk up to Barnes’ station. Feeling magnanimous, Sam decides to have mercy on his muscly pal and take the lead on this one.

“Mr. Barnes,” he says, giving Barnes an encouraging smile. “Tell us about your dish, if you please.”

“Call me Bucky,” Barnes says, returning the gesture with a quick quirk of his lips.

Next to him, Steve repeats the name in a whisper, most likely unaware that he’s even doing it.

Sam has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking.

*****

Bucky’s confessional

“I grew up in Brooklyn, as the eldest of five kids. My dad left when I was fifteen, and while I was still in school, my mom had to work three jobs to provide for us all. She wasn’t home much, so it was kind of up to me to make sure dinner was on the table most nights.”

Bucky plucks at the seam of his black skinny jeans, lost in thought. “I think that’s why my specialty is comfort food. Nothing unnecessary, just hearty, nutritious food, y’know?” With a tilt of his head, he adds, “Although since all my siblings moved into their own places I’ve been cooking mostly for myself and my cat, so I’ve been experimenting with adding some twists to my tried and tested recipes.” He laughs, right hand clasping the back of his neck in a bashful gesture. “I’ve had… mixed success. Luckily Alpine has loved all of it. She’s my cat.”

“My first dish today is Irish soda bread with sage butter and Himalayan sea salt,” Bucky continues. “Bread was something we could never have enough of in our household. Five growing kids, y’know? And also, um...” A slight blush creeps its way onto Bucky’s cheeks, his eyes flitting around nervously. “Well, I guess you could say I used to be a bit of a history nerd growing up. I was super interested in World War II, particularly, uh, Captain America.” His blush deepens, spreading upwards from the neckline of his white t-shirt to the tips of his pierced ears.

“I, uh, I basically read every Steve Rogers biography I could get my hands on, which is why I learned to make things like soda bread because, y’know, Steve Rogers was Irish. Is Irish,” he corrects himself. Bucky’s eyes glaze over, taking on a faraway look. “Man, I couldn’t believe it when Cap was found a few years ago,” he marvels, “and alive. I don’t think I slept for a week after I found out.” He stares into space for a moment before shaking himself. He clears his throat, eyes refocusing on the person behind the camera. “Anyway, so when I heard that Chef Wars was doing an Avengers-themed special, I immediately applied because Steve – Cap, I mean- Captain America. Um. Yeah, so Cap mentioned in a few of his interviews that he watches Chef Wars, so I figured there would be a good chance he’d be watching this one too, you know? And then I got the email that I’d been selected and that he was going to be the one judging us, and I just…” Bucky trails off, looking a little faint, the blood draining from his face as quickly as it had risen.

“God, I just can’t believe I’ll finally get to see him in the flesh.” His eyes widen. “In person, I mean," he hastily amends. "And I’m excited about my dishes too, of course. I really hope Cap will like them. And the Falcon. Him, too. Yeah.”

*****

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

When Steve puts a piece of bread into his mouth and chews slowly, he sniffs, eyes turning a little watery. “It tastes exactly like my mom’s,” he says in a hushed voice, sounding like he can’t quite believe his taste buds. Sam pats Steve’s back consolingly, before scooping up some sage butter with his own piece of bread and taking an enthusiastic bite.

“Hmm, nice,” he says, giving Barnes an appreciative nod. “And the butter? You make that yourself, too?”

“You butter believe it,” Barnes replies, then immediately looks horrified, like he can’t believe he made a pun that bad on national television.

Sam cackles, holding out his fist for Barnes to bump. When Barnes has recovered enough to return the gesture with his left hand, Steve stares longingly at their touching hands, before letting his gaze trail over the tattoos on Barnes’ exposed forearm. Since he's not exactly subtle about it, Barnes catches him looking and gives Steve a tentative smile when their eyes meet. Steve chokes on absolutely nothing and launches into an impromptu coughing fit. “Crumbs,” he wheezes, thumping a massive fist on his massive chest, “wrong pipe.”

Sam just smirks at him, before turning back to Barnes. “That was delicious,” he tells him. “Can’t wait for your next dish, man.”

“Really, really, good,” Steve chimes in once he’s caught his breath. “Well done, Bucky.”

Barnes goes as red as a tomato, eyes trained on the floor as he awkwardly shifts from foot to foot. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Steve, please,” Steve implores.

Barnes bites his lip, looking up at Steve through his lashes. “Thanks, Steve.”

Sam's pretty sure Steve stops breathing altogether right then. Christ, it’s like there’s an electrical current running between the two of them, the air crackling with it. Thunderbolts and lighting, very very nauseating.

Sam claps his hands. “Right,” he says loudly, “moving on to the next contestant now… Yulia, what have you prepared for us?”

*****

By the time the second round rolls around, Steve has had a series of meltdowns and Sam has spent precious time he could’ve been exploring the set and taking pics for his mom on talking Steve out of a bathroom stall. Damn, he’s a good friend. It takes all of Sam’s VA-honed therapist skills to convince Steve that he’s doing fine, he’s not embarrassing himself, and no one but Sam has noticed Steve’s massive heart boner for Barnes yet. Sam actually isn’t entirely positive about that last one – or the first two for that matter – but Steve doesn’t need to know that. There are still two rounds to go.

In the second round, contestants are asked to make a dish that represents who they are as a person.

While the contestants are cooking up a metaphorical storm, Sam and Steve walk around their stations to chat with everyone some more, camera crew on their heels. Steve manages to get out at least three complete sentences, and Bernadette and Bob are too in awe of him to notice the few times he says something that doesn’t actually make any sense. Yulia has given no indication that she even knows who either of them are, and Sam can practically feel the relief radiating off of Steve. He guesses that’s part of why he and Natasha get on so well.

When they round on Barnes’ station, Barnes has just started seasoning his dish. There’s a checkered dishcloth slung over his right shoulder and a focused look on his face, which turns into one of low-key stress the moment he spots Steve and Sam coming towards him. Leaning his hip against the counter, Sam settles in to watch Steve make a fool of himself. He's not disappointed.

“Wow,” Steve says inanely, gesturing in the direction of Barnes’ hands. “That’s- you’re- you’re really good at that.”

Barnes pauses his turning of the peppermill to give Steve a slightly panicked look. “At… grinding?”

At Steve’s strangled cough, Barnes seems to realize what he just said, his bewildered expression morphing into one of abject mortification. The poor guy looks like he’d very much like the ground to swallow him whole right about now.

Honestly, these two deserve each other.

When they've finished chatting to everyone and it’s time to taste, Barnes is asked to explain his dish and how it represents him. He seems to have pulled himself together somewhat since their last encounter, his stance a little more confident now and his eyes only drifting to Steve’s pecs every other sentence.

“I’m a simple guy,” he tells them, somehow managing to make it sound genuine instead of cliché. “I enjoy the little things in life. I like taking care of people, making them feel good and comfortable, and I think that’s reflected in my cooking. I enjoy making comfort food, the hale and hearty stuff.” He licks his lips, meaningfully adding, “Although, don’t get me wrong. I do indulge occasionally. I’ve got my guilty pleasures same as everyone else, y'know?” That last part is directed at Steve, who nods dazedly, like he knows exactly what Barnes means. Gross.

“So I guess you could say you’re just… arugula guy?” Sam grins, cheerfully ignoring the growing sexual tension.

Barnes stares at him for a beat, and then snorts. “You know what?” he says, returning Sam's grin, “the s’more I get to know you, the s’more I like you.”

Sam has a very real moment where he thinks he might actually fall in love with this guy himself. It’s only Steve’s doe-eyed look that keeps him from proposing to Barnes there and then. Okay, and maybe the fact that Barnes is clearly smitten with Steve, and also Sam is straight and very happily dating Nat, who would not hesitate to gut him if he decided to elope with some pasty hipster dude.

Barnes’ dish – mac and cheese with black truffle and locally sourced cheeses and fancy cuts of bacon – is mouthwateringly good, and Sam tells him as much. Using appropriate words to do so. You know, like a normal person.

Steve, on the other hand, moans loudly around his bite and then, mouth still full, he blurts, “That’s exactly what I thought you’d taste like.”

In the painfully awkward silence that follows, Steve and Barnes blush so hard the combined heat of their flaming cheeks could probably power most of New York City. This time, Sam can’t contain his laughter. He crows as he gleefully slaps his thighs, and even some of the crew is hiding having a hard time staying professional in the face of such blatant dumbassery.

Shaking his head, Sam grabs Steve by the bicep and herds him towards the backroom. “Come on, Casanova,” he says. “Let’s get you some ice for those burns.”

*****

For dessert, Barnes goes all out.

He actually makes Captain America cake pops, shaped and decorated like Steve’s shield with blue, red and white frosting. Steve’s eyes almost bug out of his head when he sees them. Barnes explains how they’re “sort of an adult version” of normal cake pops, which makes Sam raise an eyebrow. He’s been on the internet. He unfortunately has seen adult versions of all kinds of Captain America paraphernalia. Fortunately, Barnes just means that his cake pops have some sort of liquor in the center, “for a punch, you know?”

The starry-eyed look Steve gives Barnes clearly conveys just how clever he thinks that is, and Sam surreptitiously rolls his eyes. No game whatsoever, either of them.

“I’ve never had a cake pop before,” Steve says, carefully picking up one of the treats and inspecting it curiously.

“Oh,” Barnes says, blinking at him. “Well, normally you’d eat them in one go, but these are a bit bigger than usual because of the shape of the shield, so you probably won’t be able to fit -”

The rest of his sentence sort of peters off into a stunned silence as Steve proceeds to stick a whole-ass giant cake pop in his mouth in one go, letting out an appreciative grunt as he chews and then swallows.

Barnes’s mouth goes slack. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his eyes glazing over, and Sam cracks up. Again.

The cake pops are actually surprisingly good, despite their garish (sorry, Steve) appearance, and then it’s time to retreat and deliberate. As was to be expected, Steve has a crisis of conscience.

“I can’t vote for him just because he made my mom’s soda bread and he practically raised his baby sisters by himself and he cooks for his cat and he has pretty eyes, Sam!” he laments, voice muffled into his massive forearms. Sam makes the filming crew promise not to air this bit. It takes some doing, but finally Sam manages to convince Steve that Barnes’s food was simply the best. Better than all the rest. He even does a little Tina impression to get his point across, and that seems to do it.

When they announce the winner, Barnes smiles so wide it transforms his whole face and makes Steve melt into a puddle of Gü.

Sam has to nudge Steve again to get him to say his line, since he’s too busy mooning over Barnes to notice the autocue changing. “Ah, yes!” Steve says loudly. “First prize is a substantial sum of money, sponsored by Tony Stark, which we hope will go towards opening your own restaurant–"

“… and a weekend stay at Avengers Tower, also sponsored by Tony!”

Steve’s head whips around to him in surprise. Sam winks at him. “Including a private tour of the premises by none other than Captain America himself. Isn’t that right, Steven?”

A beat of silence, and then Steve.exe starts back up. "Right,” he nods, drawing out the word. “Yes. That’s right.” Sam pats his arm. Good man.

Stepping forward, Steve takes Barnes’ hand and shakes it slowly. “Congratulations, Bucky. I look forward to seeing you again soon," he says, adding, after a quick, bracing inhale, “and maybe when you visit, I can make my mom’s stew for you? If- if you like?”

Sam feels a surge of pride. Look at Steve go, being something almost in the vicinity of smooth.

Barnes laps it up, beaming at Steve. “I’d really love that,” he says in a low voice, still holding Steve's hand. “I’m sure you’re delicious.” His eyes widen. “It’s delicious. The stew – not- not-" Abruptly, Barnes stops babbling, then seems to come to a decision. “Oh, fuck it,” he mutters, and pulls Steve towards him, crashing their mouths together in a scorching kiss.

Over the noise of the assembled crowd's whoops and cheers, Sam gleefully calls, “And that, my friends, is a wrap!”

#stucky #stevebucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #shrunkyclunks #meet cute #fluff #top chef #chef bucky barnes #my fic #my writing #ao3 #sam wilson pov

[blackkwidowed]

the declaration of ownership

Requested: 

How about a Natasha x reader smut? Maybe something with a dom!reader?

Jealous reader that ends in smut?

Summary: Natasha’s got a plan. Reader’s got a newly-found jealousy problem. 

Rating: E. Public shenanigans, a lot of filth. 

Word Count: 1,621

So, this baby was born from two asks that I combined into one. This is filth. 18+. 

Expect more content very soon.

Clubbing with the Avengers is absolutely not something you ever thought you’d experience. 

You didn’t have any expectations of how clubbing with a group of superheroes would go down, but you certainly didn’t expect it to pan out the way it did. 

Tony, a regular on alcohol intake, was absolutely trashed within an hour or two. While his stumbling and chattering didn’t really bother you, it was still worth sitting through purely for the joy and humour on Natasha’s face. Steve, to everyone’s surprise, was dancing. Bucky had ‘forced’ him to let loose for the evening, which in reality meant forget about the company, let's grind up on one another when the sexy songs come on and maintain that we’re just friends. Poor boys, they’re really not that subtle. 

The verdict though? You were having a good night together, you were all having fun. Until Natasha went to get the drinks. 

You can’t even believe yourself because you do not get jealous. You’re not a jealous person. You’re really, really not. But the longer you stare the harder it becomes to convince yourself that you’re not jealous right now. And not just a cute kind of jealous. The kind where if Natasha knows it’s bothering you, she’ll milk it just so you’ll teach her a lesson. She keens under that kind of behaviour from you, where you just shove her around and do whatever you like to her, whimpers for that rougher attention. 

So maybe, with that in mind, Natasha is trying to make you jealous by flirting back with the guy behind the bar. 

You know it’s harmless, deep down. You know Natasha doesn’t actually like men romantically or sexually so it means nothing. But what you also know, is just how far Natasha is willing to go to get a rise out of you. 

When Natasha returns, you know by the look on her face that she’s waiting for a reaction. She sits even closer to you than before, so close you can smell a hint of the vodka she’s been drinking. She isn’t drunk, no, she’s just trying to test you to see how far you’ll go. 

You lay a hand on her thigh and squeeze, turning to press a kiss to her cheek. You say nothing. You give no hint that you’d just witnessed the little show she was trying to put on. For all Natasha is concerned, you saw nothing. That’s how you like it, and you barely suppress a hint of a smirk. 

The night continues. You drink, you dance, you enjoy your free time. Natasha is particularly dirty in her dancing tonight, but you let it slide. Watching her on the verge of a whimper because you won’t play ball is almost as fun as when you do tease her back. Almost.

You’ll admit though, keeping your cool is proving more and more difficult. The way she’s moving her hips against you shouldn’t really be seen anywhere other than when you’re alone together. Her body is slick, her dress tight and her hands don’t leave you.

What angers you is the staring from that damn bartender. You’re sure this is the moment you snapped. You’re a little hazy, overwhelmed by everything, but you remember very, very clearly the moment you mutter in Nat’s ear.

“Give me your panties.” You don’t really care that people might hear you. You know everyone’s too engrossed in their own antics to probably even notice Natasha grinding on you in the middle of a club, but Natasha hears it and immediately knows that you’re not as oblivious as she thought. 

“Why?” Nat bats her lashes at you. She does a good job at acting innocent, admittedly. Just not quite good enough to get past you. 

You shrug, your hands sliding around her waist and pulling her against you with a little force. “Just want to make a statement.” 

She raises an eyebrow, but you can see she’s already choosing to follow your orders. Her eyes are a deeper shade of green, pupils blown and cheeks flushed. She throws you a wink, and pushes your hands from her waist, manoeuvring skillful hands over her dress to pull her panties down her legs. God, it’s so public that Natasha is more than likely ready to burst. 

You don’t care if people are staring, you just grin as she holds them out to you. They’re black, lacy, and you know she’s wearing a matching bra that you can’t wait to rid her of later. Before you take them from her, you glance around until you find that bartender. With your eyes locked on his, you give him the back off look, before smirking. You take the item in Nat’s hand, without breaking eye contact with the bartender, and you wink at him, shoving Natasha’s panties in your shirt pocket. 

His dumbfounded look is almost enough to satisfy your anger.

“That’s quite the statement.” Nat manages. Christ, your hand is still in your pocket and you can feel that she’s soaked through her panties before she even took them off. 

“Let’s go.” You wrap an arm around her waist and lead her out, ignoring Tony drunkenly yelling for you to get him another drink. You had things to do.

Which brought you to now. You hadn’t even made it past the front door. Instead, you had Natasha pushed against it, her legs snug around your hips, your tongue in her mouth and your fingers teasing lightly between her thighs. 

“Touch me. Please.” She whimpers, tugging at your hair that’s wrapped around her fingers. 

“Not yet, pretty girl.” You suck a mark into her neck, and you don’t let up until you know it’ll be visible for the rest of the week. “Tell me, who do you belong to?”

She groans, her head falling back against the door. She gasps as your teeth nip her shoulder, travel back up her neck and to her ear where you continue talking to her.

“I haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already falling apart. Look at you.” 

“Y/N,” she breathes. 

“What, baby?” You brush your nose along the side of hers, running the hand between her thighs closer and closer to where she’s absolutely fucking aching for your touch. She’s so warm, you haven’t even touched her yet but you can feel it on her thighs, the heat intoxicating. You’re drunk on her heat alone, the scent, the desperation in the way she breathes your name. “What do you need?”

She bites her lip, closing her eyes as your other hand, the one holding her up, squeezes her ass. 

“Want me to touch you?” Your mouth hovers over hers, her breath warm. You can still smell the vodka, but you know she isn’t drunk. You’re not either, to tell the truth. You’d been so occupied with driving Natasha nuts that you didn’t even think to drink to the point of drunk. “Want me to touch you right here?”

She groans out, your fingers finally meeting that heat from the source this time. You run a single finger through her folds, just once, avoiding her clit, and you bring your hand to Natasha’s lips. 

“Suck,” you whisper, eyes dark. She whimpers quietly, taking your finger into her hot mouth and relishing in the taste of herself. “That’s it.”

“Please.”

You give in, slipping your fingers back down and running your thumb lightly over her clit. Her hips jolt against your hand, and she gets a bit more pressure than you wanted her to have, but you can’t stomach being mad at her. Not when she releases that utterly filthy, bordering whorish moan. 

She’s wet enough to take more than one finger straight away, but she’s still expecting you to tease her. She sighs beautifully in delight when she feels you push two fingers against her heat. She accepts you eagerly, hungrily, tightening around your fingers and moaning so damn loud when your palm brushes her clit. The pressure is so delicious, she cannot keep quiet and boy if you needed to make her see stars before, she’s about to enter a damn galaxy by now. 

She clenches around your fingers, her hips rocking into your palm while you fuck her. The position is absolutely perfect, and she looks so gorgeous like this you can’t even fathom the thought of ever stopping. 

You pull your fingers out and she whines. You wink at her, kissing the corner of her mouth gently and then connecting your lips. “All in good time, sweetheart.”

She almost screams when you push inside her again, this time with a third finger added in the mix and you’re shocked because you can feel how close she is already. You can’t believe she’s this turned on, you can’t believe you’re lucky enough to have this woman at your mercy, trusting you entirely.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this, did you know that?” You murmur. You’re not even sure how much she hears. Natasha is being loud tonight and you love it. “You’re close.”

“Mmhmm,” she groans, bucking into you harder, tugging you forward and slamming her lips to yours, slipping her tongue into your mouth in an attempt to stop being so damn loud. “I don’t know if I’ve ever come this quickly.”

Natasha continues to breathe heavily against your lips and you smirk. “I think you’ll find you have definitely come this quickly before.”

Natasha comes with a whimper, nails digging into your shoulders to hold herself up as her hips move uncontrollably. 

“Take me to bed.” She breathes. “Now, take me to bed and fuck my brains out.”

You chuckle, darker than intended. “Patience. I’m not even finished with you here, yet.” 

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow #black widow imagine #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #tag: smut

[anotherhargrovebitch]

call me baby again, please : b.h

this is part two of don’t call him baby. heavily requested and thanks for the support, glad you enjoyed part one enough for this to be continued. (1.6k)

(there will be a part three/final part and it’ll be up over the weekend) 

* stranger things writing * 

one // two // three 

He’d never seen you happier, and it hurts to admit that it’s the truth. You were beaming, happily serving every customer as you sway with joy from the various rails you reorganise. It doesn’t matter about the teenagers who conversed through the garments, ruining the order you spent hours working on. For once, it really didn’t matter to you.

Billy would only see mere minutes of your days whenever he wasn’t working at the pool. Max didn’t have to ask for a lift anymore. Instead, Billy offered. At first, Max was wary of his intentions but when she walked into The Gap to see you working there, it all clicked into place.

What Billy noticed more often than anything else was the skip in your step as you wandered out from the store. He saw your hips swaying and longed to hold you again.

Your fingers tapped on the escalator as you rose to the food court and walked into Scoops Ahoy! with pure happiness in your expression; something Billy hasn’t felt since he broke your heart nearly a year ago.

You had moved on, and Billy was trying. At least, he told himself he was trying to by flirting with Karen Wheeler, but that was just to occupy him for a while. When he was left alone it hurt the most, the memories of what he once had lost. And it’s his own fault for his wandering hands and mind.

In the back of your mind, Billy hovered there. Whenever you heard his name being mentioned in a conversation you tense. You hear snippets of these discussions, listening in as girls say he’s his old self. How Billy the ‘bitch killer’ was back.

You tried to ignore the small slice that glides over your heart, that old wound close to healing. But you smile as the sweet scent of ice cream fills your nostrils, and the laughter shared between Steve and Robin.

Walking up to the counter, Steve keeps his back turned whilst Robin faces you. “Customers, dingus.” Robin motions and Steve rolls his eyes before turning around.

“Ahoy, Sailor!” He yells with a forced enthusiasm as he faces you, immediately regretting the greeting as you stifle back a laugh. “Don’t you even think about laughing,” He raises a finger to you, watching as you keep a straight face and shake your head.

“I can’t promise I won’t.” You reply with a small smile lacing your lips, one Steve always forgives even if it’s making light-hearted fun at him.

“Every time.” Robin mutters as she goes to the stockroom, pulling out the board and marking yet another on the ‘you suck’ side.

Leaning against the counter, your eyes flutter down to the same selection of ice creams. Steve watches as you hum to yourself, your nails tapping on the counter absentmindedly.

“Same as always, Y/n?” Steve questions, catching your eye as he raises an eyebrow to you, only to receive a bright smile in response.

Lifting yourself up from slouching over the counter, you eye up your choices once more. “How about strawberry?” You suggest, and Steve pulls a face in surprise. “Gotta be more to life than butterscotch, Stevie.” You chuckle, watching as he passes you a small spoon to sample.

Outside the shop, Billy watches from across the escalator. He sees Steve in that dumb sailor hat that he’d love to knock off that head of hair, but he can’t. He lost his chance, especially after he caused a few injuries over last summer.

“Hey, Billy.” Turning his head, he forces a smile to a series of girls who crowd around him. 

“Hi.” Billy huffs, glancing back into the shop, ignoring the giggles and flirtatious comments from the girl's eye-fucking him. 

And as always, Billy watches as Steve removes his little hat and places it on your head. You look adorable, and Steve knows it. 

You lift your hands to your head, rolling your eyes as Steve smiles to you. “I look stupid.” You joke with him, and Steve shakes his head in response.

“Now you know how it feels to be us.” He motions as Robin leans through the window doors, nodding along. 

“It’s true, Y/n.” She adds. “You’re one of us now.” She smiles and you take the hat off, placing it back on the counter.

“As fun as it’d be,” You trail off, licking your ice cream to stop the sweet substance clinging to your fingers. “I have to get back to work.” 

Leaning over the counter, you kiss Steve softly before pulling away, unaware of his eyes following your ass as you leave.

“Can I get a tally on the ‘you rule’ side for that?” Steve jokes and watches as Robin adds another tally to the ‘you suck’ side instead. “Yeah, that’s fair.” He mutters before carrying on his with his job. 

*

His foot refused to sit still as the cool metal rested between his lips. 

Since he took the job, Billy knew he’d receive plenty of attention and he liked it. He had his pick of the litter, choosing a different girl most days to take into the showers after he closed up for the night. 

Billy liked to keep himself distracted, feeling someone else’s hands over his body. How some liked to bite whilst others were timid. But none of them were you. 

Sitting beneath the shower, Billy listens to a soft giggle echo as Heather walks away. “See you tomorrow, Billy.” She waves half-heartedly, pulling on her shorts and fixing her bra whilst Billy hides away. 

Leaning his head back, he lets the droplets of water consume him. He blurs everything else out as he lifts his fingertips to the locket around his neck. If he can, he’ll always wear it. A snippet of you, all he has left to hold close until it has rusted beyond recognition. But he didn’t care who noticed, but no one was allowed to open it. 

Slowly, Billy forces himself to his feet. “Shit.” He mutters, feeling the water temperature dropping down his spine as he turns it off. 

Silence follows him as he dries off and changes, still avoiding the house as often as he can. 

That was something you always understood. You were there for him when a new wound happened. He didn’t have to explain anything to you. Instead, Billy sat as you helped patch him up, slowly putting him back together.

He swears that he caught you looking in senior year sometimes. A quick glance to see if he’d been taking care of the latest cut lip or bruised cheekbone. And in truth, you were- not that you’d ever admit such a thing. 

Taking the short ride home, Billy steps into the house silently. He has learnt Neils routine, the days to be out and stay out to the few days he can have in solitude. 

As Billy lies down on his bed, the door creaks open. “What do you-” Before he can finish, Max quietly enters and closes the door behind her. Billy sits upright, seeing her sad eyes. “What’s wrong?” Billy questions softly, something he’s been learning to do with Max now that she’s getting older. 

He’ll never forget the time you snapped at him for being mean to Max. You told him that they’re family, and to support one another. It took time, and a lot of convincing, but he’s making the effort to now, even if you aren’t around to notice.

“I, I broke up with Lucas today.” Max sniffs to herself, still nervous to be vulnerable around her stepbrother.

Yet, Billy rises to his feet and wraps his arms around Max. She quietly cries for a moment before composing herself. “That Sinclair kid ain’t shit, Max.” Billy comments under his breath, listening as Max chuckles quietly to herself. 

“He’s not so bad,” She shrugs her shoulder. “I, I spoke to Y/n about it.” Max nervously states, feeling Billy tense as he slowly releases her from a hug. 

“Oh?” Billy questions, taking a seat back on his bed whilst Max remains still, staring down at the grubby carpet. 

“She, she saw it happen. Outside of The Gap.” Max sighs, regretting having done it in such a public space. “We erm, we had a chat.” 

Billy nods along, not wanting to know truly how you are. He doesn’t want to listen to how well you’re doing, that you’ve never been better because he can see it. He doesn’t need it to be thrown into his face as well. 

“You can still talk to her, Max.” Billy states bluntly. “Just because we broke up doesn’t mean I’m annoyed.” He clarifies, looking up as Max nods repeatedly as words fail to follow her actions. 

“I, I know, Billy.” Max responds softly. “It’s just, I don’t want to upset you by still being friends with her.” 

It shouldn’t have stung, but it did. 

“It’s okay, kid.” Billy lies, but Max plays along for his own sake. “Anyway, I gotta get some sleep. Opening shift in the morning.” He says with a half-smile as Max makes her way toward the door. “Oh, Max?” 

Max turns back, her hand resting on the door as the blotchiness of her face has died down. “Yeah?”

“If that Sinclair kid gives you shit, you tell me.” He says, pointing a finger causing Max to laugh to herself. 

As she closes the door and walks to her room, she can’t help but think aloud. “Exactly what Y/n said.” 

#last part is up this weekend #thanks for reading #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove writing #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagines #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things headcanon #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things writing

[imperialstark]

choke on me—chapter three

breathe me in (prequel fic)

chapter two

chapter four

a/n: no you did not read that wrong, this is chapter three. i’m not dead. 2020 did not kill me. this is a bit of a filler chapter but chapter four should be up before the month’s over. if not, yell at me, i won’t mind. 

rating: pretty gen this time but don’t worry chapter five is a goddamn trip

warning(s): n/a

—————

Despite being on opposite sides of the country, Tony and Pepper talk more often than people think. Pep’s an early riser, and Tony hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since he was born, so it balances out. 

“I should tell you to go to sleep,” Pepper says, sighing. “But I miss the sound of your voice too much.” She’s sitting at the island, a cup of coffee in hand. She had pulled her hair into a bun and still has her reading glasses on, the red ones that she hates because she thinks she looks like someone's grandmother.

Tony loves seeing her like this. Loose and comfortable with him. After they broke up, a part of him worried that things would be strained between them. He should have known that was impossible.

“I don’t know whether to be happy or insulted,” Tony says. 

“Both,” Pepper says. “Your sleeping habits are abysmal.” 

Tony shrugs and takes a sip of his own coffee. He had always had issues with sleep. He woke up frequently throughout the night and would only start feeling sleepy around two in the morning to the point where attempting to sleep at all felt like a waste of time. Give him a cup of coffee with four shots of espresso, and he'd be good to go.

“You can’t deny that I’m more productive, though,” he says. 

“Okay, you do work hard,” Pepper admits, pursing her lips. “But you work too hard. When’s the last time you had a day to yourself that you didn’t spend in your workshop?” 

Usually, Tony's quick with a quip, but Pepper's question makes him pause. Last week, Steve asked Tony if he wanted to join him on his run around Bryant Park, and what had Tony said? "No." Like an idiot. It's not that he hadn't wanted to go; it was just that between SI and Avengers business and—

Tony was making excuses. Even he could see that. Hook-ups? Hook-ups Tony could do, specialized in, even, but Steve's question had ventured dangerously into "date" territory. The last time Tony had tried to seriously date was when he was with Pepper, and that had been a piping hot mess in the end.

"Tony? Hello?  I swear to God if you've just been using your life model decoy on me, I'm going to fly directly to Manhattan just to—"

"What? No!" He says, raising his hands. Hell hath no fury like a Pepper scorned. "I'm here, in the flesh. I just got...distracted. I guess I haven't really taken a day for myself."

Pepper sets her mug down and levels him with a stern look that puts him in the mind of a school principal.

"Tony," she says in that way of hers that usually means she's worried about him, and Tony's heart twists. "Is everything okay?"

Tony's not a liar, but he does believe in omitting information. 

"Everything's as good as I can hope for, Pep. I'm going to therapy, and I'm still taking my meds. You know how it is," he says, shrugging. "Some days are better than others." 

Pepper nods, looking a little less concerned, which is all Tony can ask for. "And the others? They're not bothering you?" 

It takes him a second, but Tony realizes that she's talking about the Avengers. He shakes his head. "They're fine. It's...weird living with so many people," he says. Tony had lived alone for half of his life now, aside from that brief stint in Malibu with Pepper. "They leave coffee grounds in the sink, and last week, Romanov and Barton convinced JARVIS to play Iron Man every time I went into my workshop and—" 

"You like them, don't you?" Pepper says. It's not a question. 

He does like them. The entire time he had been complaining about them, he knew his face had been stretched into a grin. 

"Maybe so. It's refreshing having another scientist to go mad with," he says, smiling devilishly when Pepper pales. 

"Oh, God, you've corrupted Bruce. There's two of you now."

"Okay, I take offense to that," he interjects. "Bruce keeps me in line, promise.” 

“Give him my thanks,” Pepper says. "Is it just Bruce? What about the others? How do you feel about them?"

He speaks without thinking, something you'd think wouldn't happen so often to a literal genius. "Steve's been...Steve's been good." More than good, actually.

Pepper raises a brow. "It's Steve now? What happened to Rogers? Capsicle? Any other one of your incessant nicknames?" 

He's been caught. Lying isn't even an option; Pepper would sniff out the truth like a bloodhound. She was like Natasha in that way. If those two ever team up again, Tony feels sorry for whichever poor soul they set their sight on. 

His only choice is to play it cool. "First off, you know you love my nicknames, case in point, Pepper," he says, knowing damn well she hadn't gone by Virginia since she started working for him. "And…it's Steve now. He's not so bad when you get to know him."

Pepper looks unconvinced, but mercifully, she lets it go. "Hmm. You guys are friends now?"

No. Never. Not even close.

"What can I say?" Tony gives her his cheesiest grin. "I wore him down." 

She rolls her eyes, but it's all in good fun. "Well, then, I'm happy for you. You deserve all the love that comes your way." 

"Ugh, don't get all sappy on me," he jokes, even though his heart spasms in his chest. He doesn't love the Avengers, and he doesn't—

He doesn't love Steve either. 

And they don't love him back.

Pepper's eyes soften. "Tell you what," she begins, "since you're so adamant on working too hard to have some fun, how about I do it for you?" 

Tony latches onto the change of subject like the lifeline it is. "What do you have in mind?" 

"Carmen Solomita is doing a fundraiser event for A Helping Hand. Does that sound up your alley?"

Carmen Solomita was an old friend from his prep school years. A fellow gifted kid, and the daughter of the iconic Italian husband-wife fashion designer duo, Isabela and Marcello Solomita, it was a no brainer that Tony and Carmen would become friends. 

She had followed in her parents' footsteps, designing luxury clothes and even starting her own separate fashion house right here in Manhattan. 

“What’s she doing this year?” he asks. 

“She’s organizing a week-long carnival in upstate New York for local orphanages. Think you or any of the others would be interested in working a booth?” Pepper says. “Having all of the Avengers show up would drum up a lot of publicity.” 

Tony furrows his brows. A carnival does sound fun, and he has no problems with running a booth. It’s the others that are a problem. 

“Don’t you think six, let alone one Avenger, would take away from the cause? And that’s if they even agree to it.” 

Pepper raises her hands. “Just throwing it out there. Again, you need a break. And think of the kids when they see your faces.” 

Tony’s face wrinkles. So, maybe, he has a soft spot for orphans. He still can’t help but feel like Pepper has some ulterior motive. 

“I’ll ask,” Tony says, caving. “And if they say no, I’m not forcing them to go. Tell Carmen she’s getting one Avenger, at the least.” 

“Yes! I knew you’d come around.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Love you too, Tony.”

***********

Tony broaches the topic of Carmen’s carnival at dinner and immediately braces himself for the worst. He’s not a pessimist by any means, but he sure as hell doesn’t expect the best from people whenever he asks them for a favor. 

There’s a pause as they take the time to ponder over what he said, long enough to make Tony squirm. 

God, why did he even ask? He should have just told Pepper that the others were all unavailable or—

“What kind of carnival?” Clint asks, breaking Tony out of his reverie. 

"I'm sorry," Tony blinks. "Are you actually considering this?" 

Clint shrugs. "What's not to like? Just want to know what we'd be doing." 

"Um, okay," Tony says. He's never, never been at a loss for words in his life, and yet...

"We'd just be running booths, meet and greets, that sort of stuff.  Nothing too crazy," Tony says. Pretty run of the mill stuff for a fundraising event.  

"And the charity, A Helping Hand, was it?" Natasha says. "One of yours?"

"No," he replies. "Carmen Solomita's. She's big on philanthropy, always trying to help out in some way or another. She's always been like that."

"Solomita?" Natasha asks. "Fashion designer Carmen Solomita?" 

"That's the one," he says, some of his initial anxiety ebbing away. They weren't saying no. Not yet. Or maybe they were just trying to let him down gently. 

"She an old flame of yours?" Clint says, and Tony tries to ignore how quickly Steve's head turns to look at him. 

"No," Tony says immediately, putting an end to any questions before they can begin. "We've been friends since high school. It'd be like dating my sister." Not to mention Carmen had known him when he had still been under five feet and had a mouth full of metal. Any attraction on her part had either never existed or died as soon as Tony had opened his mouth.

"Hm," Natasha says. Tony's still learning how to speak Natasha fluently, but it's apparently enough for Clint. 

"Alright, I'm in," he says. "Dibs on the sharpshooting booth."

"You can't call dibs on a booth," Natasha says, rolling her eyes. "And it's mine." 

"I'll arm wrestle you for it."

"No," Tony says, pointing a finger at them. "The last time you two arm-wrestled at this table, you split it in half. You'll be assigned whatever booth is available."

Clint grumbles something under his breath, and Tony closes his eyes. 

"I think you annoyed Mom," Natasha whispers, and really, for a spy, she sucks at being quiet. 

But if he was mom, who was dad?

"Enough, you guys," Steve says, backing him up. "Stop messing around." 

"Thank you," Tony says, massaging his temple, trying to stop his stress headache before it begins."It's like having children." 

"Am I your favorite?" Clint asks with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

"No, it's Bruce," he answers immediately, his voice deadpan. 

"...You answered that insultingly fast." 

"You asked," Tony says. "Speaking of Bruce, Brucie, you've been quieter than normal. What's going on in that brilliant head of yours?"

Tony doesn't want to put him on the spot, but he knows Bruce will just try his best to brush his problems under the rug. 

Bruce is staring down at his plate, poking absentmindedly at his pasta with his fork. "I don't think I should go," he says. 

"And why not?" Thor, of all people, asks. The god levels Bruce with a heavy stare. "You deserve to amuse yourself like the rest of us."

"Is that a joke?" Bruce says, throwing his fork down, sending it clattering against his plate. "Do you really think unleashing a big green rage monster at a carnival with children present is a bright idea?" 

"Where's this monster you speak of?" Thor says. "I don't see one."

"Come on," Bruce mutters. 

"I don't see one, either," Tony says. "I see a genius nuclear physicist who moonlights as an equally amazing superhero." 

"And I see a kind, honest man who would never harm anyone intentionally," Steve says, jumping in. 

Bruce purses his lips but based on the flush spreading across his face, Tony can tell they're wearing him down. 

Oddly enough, it's Natasha who reels him in. "I've seen a lot of monsters in my life, Banner. You're not one of them." 

Bruce chuckles, but it's not a happy sound. Tony's familiar with it enough to know that it's chock full of bitterness. 

"I'll be there with you," Thor says, his voice a soft timber. "I won't let anything happen to you. None of us will."

"...It's not me you should be worrying about," Bruce says. "But...if you're going...I guess it'll be fine." 

Thor smiles, looking every inch the god he is. "We'll have a grand time, Doctor Banner."

Dinner ends quickly after that, the others petering off until it's just Steve and Tony left sitting at the table. 

Tony's glad the Avengers are helping him out, honestly. It's just...the thought of six Avengers...around young, impressionable children…

"Oh, God," he says aloud, burying his face into his hands. 

He can hear Steve stand up, rounding up the dishes left behind. "It's not going to be that bad," he says. 

"We don't know that," Tony says, his voice muffled. He looks up to see Steve raising a judgmental brow at him. "I'm letting not one, but two master assassins, the Hulk, and a fucking god, interact with children." 

"They'll be on their best behavior," Steve says. "Thor said he'll keep an eye on Bruce, and I know for a fact that wherever Clint goes, Natasha's gonna follow and vice versa."

"And that doesn't worry you?"

"No, because I actually have faith in our teammates. Clint's not gonna peg a kid with an arrow just because he feels like it. He's not the type."

Tony sighs but damn it, Steve's right. He's always right. Tony doesn't know much about Clint's life before SHIELD and the Avengers, but he knows it wasn't pretty. Seemed to be a common theme amongst their little team. 

"Must have a shitty parental figure in order to be a superhero," he thinks to himself. 

He rises out of his seat and grabs the few dishes that remain. Tony helps Steve load up the dishwasher. He tries not to think about how domestic it all feels, how it's practically become routine for Tony and Steve to look after the others and put away their dishes. He doesn't know what it means, but he has the strangest feeling that Pepper is smiling to herself halfway across the country.

***********

Carmen's beyond delighted when Tony gives her the good news over the phone the next day. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her voice still does that weird squeaky thing when she gets really excited. 

"One more thank you, and you're going to rupture my eardrum," he says, holding his phone to his ear. He's making breakfast, which for him consists of swiping a yogurt cup and spoon from the kitchen. 

"I'll stop shouting," she says, which is a complete lie. "I just can't believe the Avengers are going to be at my fundraiser!" Case in point. 

There's still that gnawing pit in his stomach at the thought of the Avengers running rampant around a carnival, but they could use the publicity. Maybe it'd calm down some of those Daily Bugle conspiracy theorists who thought that the Avengers were Chitauri shapeshifters who actually started the invasion. Tony has a video of J. Jonah Jameson screaming about it saved to his phone whenever he needs a good laugh. 

"I know, I'm amazing," Tony says around a mouthful of yogurt. 

"You are, and I will literally owe you for the rest of my life," she replies. 

"I want your firstborn child," Tony says.

"Done," Carmen says without missing a beat. "That's how serious I am." 

He can't help but chuckle to himself. Talking to Carmen was always so fun. She had the same (admittedly dorky) sense of humor as him. He remembered the days when they sit in the back of their homeroom, laughing at each other's stupid jokes over the morning announcements while their teacher gave them death glares. They kept in touch after graduation but not enough for Tony's tastes. 

"But seriously, how does it feel to be a superhero? You guys all live together, don't you? Oh my God, you're just like firefighters. Do you have a little pole you slide down when there's an emergency? Ooh, is there an alarm—"

"Carmen, cool it before you pop a blood vessel," he says, mentally filing away the idea to add a pole leading directly to the tower's hangar. "And I promise you can grill them when you see them at the carnival." 

"I'm holding you to that, Stark."

"Figured you would." 

"Smart boy," Carmen says. "Any questions, comments, or concerns you want to pass along?"

"Actually," Tony begins, his brain chugging along at its usual speed of light. "I have some requests…"

Two weeks later, the look on everyone else's face when Tony presents them with the matching t-shirts he designed is more than worth the hour of alone time he promised her with Natasha. 

“She’s so mysterious,” Carmen had said over the phone. “Tony, I need to see if she’s as calculating as she comes off.” 

“Why,” he had said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why would you do that?” 

“Because I’m bisexual and have no sense of self-preservation. It’s why we’re friends,” she had chirped. 

He didn't blame her, though. Had he not jumped at every chance to hook up with Steve like his teenage self would have wanted? 

"Is this another one of your strange Midgardian customs?" Thor says, holding the t-shirt out in front of him. They're done up in his signature hotshot red, of course with Carmen's charity, A Helping Hand on the front, but the back is the real masterpiece. Under the words, Super Helper was a personalized emblem meant to represent each one of the Avengers. Mjolnir for Thor, Cap's Shield for Steve, a bow and arrow for Clint, and so on so forth. 

"...Is it weird that I kind of actually like these?" Clint whispers to Natasha, who's tracing the lines of her hourglass on her shirt. 

"You would like them," she says. 

Tony blinks. "I can...get us normal shirts?" 

"Nope, too late," Clint says, shrugging his shirt on over the long sleeve he had been wearing. "I've already grown attached.” 

Tony looks at each of them head-on, noting the way Natasha’s slender fingers dance over the cotton and Thor’s curious gaze as he inspects the true to life runes Tony had painstakingly copied from the real-life Mjolnir. Bruce looks at the fist clutching the beaker on his shirt like it holds all the secrets to the universe, and Steve—Steve’s not looking at the shirt at all. He’s looking at Tony. Of course, he is. 

Tony's always liked puzzles, and right now, the biggest puzzle of them all is what exactly made Steve's face go slack, his eyes all clear and soft and staring directly at him. 

Tony shakes his head, clearing his head of puzzles and Steve and piercing stares. 

"So," Tony says, "we're good to go?" 

Later on, when they're all piled into Tony's limo like they're going on a field trip, Steve texts him even though they're sitting right next to each other. 

It's just four words, but it's enough to make Tony blush. He facepalms, under the pretense of annoyance at something one of the others had said. 

"I'm proud of you," follows him all the way to upstate New York.

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #steve x tony #superhusbands #marvel #mcu #imperialstark fic #my fic #my writing #choke on me

[spunky-89]

Vicious Ball of Fluff

A/N: Here is another little blurb about my favorite trio. 

Series Masterlist

WC: 1000

A few weeks after your family had been told of your relationship, you all decided to not be as secretive anymore. Meaning the press found out about you guys and Tony made you three do a small interview to clear the air. You hated it. You were an awkward and anxious person by nature, going to do an interview? It was like your worst nightmare. But you sucked it up. It wasn’t a long interview but just enough to quell some of the conspiracies and gossip. Not to say the gossip stopped. Oh no, it got waaay worse for a while. The boys tried to convince you to stay off social media and deactivate your accounts but you refused. 

Now it was a known fact that you were a kind person who never instigated fights or even partook in them. You were a peacemaker. That was until someone came after those you loved. The boys had seen you go off on your family, but that was nothing when compared to your online defenses of your relationship. It wasn’t a week after you went public that someone decided to test your patients. 

One tweet and your public image of a sweet, innocent girl went out the window. 

Some news outlet who had a known distaste for the Avengers and took every chance they had to make them look bad, made a comment about Bucky. They spewed some skewed facts about how Bucky was a murderer and shouldn’t be trusted around people and even made a comment about how he was probably threatening you and Steve to stay in a relationship with him. 

Needless to say, you got pissed.

“Sweetheart don’t let it get to you. They’re always going to find something to say to try and get under your skin.” Steve tried to placate you. 

“This isn’t just some bullshit gossip though Steve. This is absolutely disgusting accusations that are based on something that needs to stay in the fucking past.” You were angrily typing on your phone and the boys were worried about what you were going to do.

“Doll, it’s okay. I’ve learned to let it go, you gotta too.” Bucky said.

“Don’t tell me what to do. No one makes a comment like that about one of my boys and walks away unscathed.” You all but growled. 

You saw him coming from the corner of your eye and you bolted upright and ran for your room, slamming the door behind you just in time to lock it before Bucky snatched the phone from your grip. 

“You do know this door will snap like a twig if I want it to.” He said factually from the other side.

“You do that, but then you’re replacing the door and explaining it to my landlord.” You stated with a smile on your face as you walked to the bathroom and locked that door too just in case one of them picked the lock. Then you went off.

Wow @avengednews you must have worked really hard on that story to include so much bullshit. I mean that must have taken some brainpower to make up a story like that. That said, I’d appreciate if you kept your fake-ass bullshit to yourself next time

As you hit send you heard the bedroom door open. You smiled and walked out of the bathroom. At the sight of your smile, both of their faces fell.

“You didn’t,”

“Oh she did,” Steve said looking at his phone. Bucky turned and looked over at the phone in Steve’s hand to read the tweet. Your phone was blowing up but you maintained a calm expression and met Bucky’s stare straight on. 

“Do you have any idea what you just set yourself up for?” Bucky asked, the tone in his voice a mixture of concern and anger.

“Yes, I do. I know that I’ll get attacked and chewed up in the news but I don’t care!” You defended.

“You should care!” Bucky’s voice raised as he said this. And instead of being a rational human being and de-escalating the situation, you yelled back.

“Don’t tell me what I feel!”

“I told you not to do it!”

“And I don’t take orders from you!”

Steve stepped between you two and said, “Both of you, calm down.”

You took a couple of deep breaths and tried to let go of the still-simmering rage at the stupid tweet. You weren’t mad at Bucky for being concerned, he just happened to pick the wrong moment to spark a fight.

“Look, both of you are right in a way,” Steve started. When both of you went to pipe up Steve shut you down with a look. “BUT, both of you are going about this all wrong. Bucky, she does have a right to do as she pleases and you and I both know if the shoe was on the other foot, you’d do the same.” Bucky grunted in agreement, still not looking pleased though. 

“And you,” he said pointing in your direction. “I get that you hate when people say bad things about Bucky, trust me I feel the same. However, you have opened yourself up to becoming hated by some people and you are going to be a bigger deal which means-”

“Which means going out is going to be a bitch, yeah I know.”

“Language,” Bucky coughed.

Steve sighed as you and Bucky giggled.

“Look, I know that what I did was probably not the best thing, but it’s who I am. I am someone who protects her loved ones.” You said as you took both of their hands and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I just hate that you’re putting more heat on yourself for me,” Bucky said, playing with your fingers. It was something he did a lot when he was upset or stressed.

“I know, but hey, it already happened so whatever comes next, we’ll deal with it.”

“You know this means you’re going to have to make another statement to the press right?” Steve commented.

You groaned and flopped back with a mumbled ‘fuck’.

This is how the press gave you the nickname ‘vicious ball of fluff’.

#stucky x reader #stucky #steve x reader x bucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Domestic(ish) life

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (5/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Hello, hello, we return with a new episode of Disaster Boys and their Winged Friend. We’re picking up right where we left off last time. Please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Warnings: Heights, falling

Part 4

“You sure you’re alright staying behind?”

“(Y/N), I’ve already told you, the two of you need some time outside of the city.” Clint pushes Bucky and I out the door. “Get your asses upstate and get some fresh air. If you’re back before dark, there’ll be consequences.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Consequences? What’re you gonna do? Spank us?”

Clint grins. “Don’t tempt me.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and hooks his arm around my waist. “We’re leaving.”

“Good.”

“We’ll pick up a couple of pizzas on the way home!” I add before Bucky can get me too far down the hall.

Clint shouts his approval and Bucky shakes his head. The smile on his face betrays his annoyance and I laugh. Bucky gives me a half-hearted glare and reaches over to take my hand.

“You think this is hilarious,” he grumbles.

“I think it’s hilarious that you refuse to smile in public.”

“We’re in a hallway.”

“And you treat it like a public space!”

"Other people live in this building, (Y/N), it's not just us!"

"Is this the moment when you finally admit you live here, too?"

“How is that what we were talking about in any way?”

“You said us when you were talking about who lives here, not just Clint and I!” I poke him in the side. “You live here too. Admit it.”

“I’m not admitting anything.”

“Seriously?” Bucky rolls his eyes and moves in front of me to walk down the stairs. He doesn’t let go of my hand. “Bucky, you have spent more nights in either my apartment or Clint’s since I moved back in. You live here.”

“I don’t pay rent. I don’t live here.”

“Then you’re a squatter. A really well-paid squatter.”

“You’re an awful person.”

I hummed. “I know, but you like me anyway.”

“Unfortunately.”

I cackle and follow him down the last few flights of stairs. We load up our bags, the picnic basket, and the umbrella Bucky wanted into the back of the car. The umbrella tries to escape a few times and Bucky has to climb into the car and hold it in while I close the back hatch. Once it’s secure, Bucky helps me get into the car by, first, laying the back of the passenger seat down flat. I tuck my wings as tightly to my body as I possibly can and lay down on the passenger side and Bucky buckles me in as soon as I settle. I pillow my hands under my cheek and wait for the car to warm up so that we can leave.

“You look comfy,” Bucky says.

“This sucks, and you know it,” I grumble.

He laughs. “Maybe.”

As soon as we’re out of the city, Bucky reaches over to me and I take his hand. He softly tells me to get some rest and that he’ll wake me when we reach our destination. I do my best to stay awake as long as I possibly can, I eventually nod off and sleep for about an hour and a half before Bucky gently shakes me awake. It takes me a moment to wake up and realize where we are.

“We’re here already?” I mumble.

“Mhm.” Bucky squeezes my hand. "Come on. Let's set up."

I nod and unbuckle my seatbelt. I open the back passenger door and crawl out across the back of the car seat. I shake out my wings as soon as my feet hit the grass and stretch my arms over my head. I pop my back all the way up and down my spine and I sigh loudly. It takes me a moment to register that Bucky’s driven us out the literal middle of nowhere and parked at the edge of a massive grassy field. Behind us stands a giant wall of trees and beyond that is miles of rolling hills and fields of grass, rippling in the wind. I look at Bucky and grin. He smiles and shakes his head before jerking his chin at the back gate of the car. I grab my bag and the umbrella and trail after Bucky while he looks for the perfect place to set up.

After wandering around for nearly five minutes, Bucky finds a spot he likes and spreads out his blanket. I open the umbrella and drive the stake into the ground at one corner of the blanket. Bucky immediately stretches out across the blanket and I lay on my stomach in the sun beside him.

“Seriously?” he asks.

I shrug and spread my wings. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do this.”

He shakes his head. “You’re nuts.”

“Not all of us have metal arms, Buck. I'm not gonna burn myself if I sit in the sun for a bit.”

"You could still burn," he mutters.

I hum and fold my arms under my chin. "Worth it."

He shakes his head. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

“Someone has to be, and seeing as Clint’s not here, I’ve gotta pick up the slack.” Bucky laughs and I smile. “How’d you find this place, anyway?”

“Stark moved operations upstate for a while. Things got loud and crowded so I left and drove around for a bit. Found this open field and filed it away for later.”

“Have you brought Clint out here yet?”

“No, not yet. He doesn’t need quiet like we do.” He takes my hand in his when I reach out to him. “He’ll get his turn at some point. But today it’s just you ‘n me.”

“I’m kinda glad it’s just us today,” I confess. “We don’t get a lot of time alone together, what with you living at the tower.”

“I know. I get sucked into a lot of work with Steve.” He sighs. “I love him, he’s my best friend, but he’s such a fuckin’ work-a-holic. Acts like he’s still got shit to prove, even though he ‘n Tony are probably two of the most respected people on the planet.”

“Well, you know how it went the last time I tried to talk him into taking a vacation.”

“You jumped out a window.”

“He started having a panic attack thinking about the paperwork that could potentially pile up while he was gone.” I sigh. “I worry about him sometimes.

“Don’t worry about him too much. Sam and Rhodey have been helping more, recently. Rhodey is great with the leadership stuff, and Sam is the perfect backup when training starts getting a little out of hand.”

“That’s good.”

“Stark’s talking with that Pym guy to see if he’ll loan his guy to us for a while.”

“Scott, right?”

“Yeah, gave Sam a hard time a few years back, but…” he lowers his voice conspiratorially, “We’re not supposed to know about that.”

I laugh and he turns his head to grin at me. “And how do you know this?”

“Confidential, sweetheart.”

“Aw, Buck, come on!”

He laughs. “I was going back through old security tapes a while back and found the feed.”

“Putting all that training to good use, I see.”

“I gotta find my fun somewhere, (Y/N).”

“And you’re not one to go tugging on Clint’s pigtails, or anything.”

“Nah, he’d like it too much.”

I giggle. “Probably.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Anyway, Steve’s doing better than he was. Work might slow down enough that I could spend more time at the building with you guys instead of stuck at the tower. Well… more than just the evenings and the occasional weekend.”

“That’d be really nice.”

He nods and hums in agreement. His eyes flutter shut as he relaxes and I watch him doze for a bit before I pull my hand from his and wander out to the middle of the field. I close my eyes and tip my face to the sky, spreading my arms and wings, just to soak up the warmth. A gentle breeze kicks up around me and the faint rustling of grass slowly reaches my ears.

I sigh and begin to move my wings, lifting from the ground with each downbeat. When I can see nothing but the tops of the trees and the rolling hills of the countryside, I angle myself and fly in several wide, lazy circles over the field. Bucky and his umbrella are little more than a speck on the ground below when I circle back around the fifth time.

With one strong stroke, I break off from my course and glide out over the treetops. I climb higher and higher through the clouds until I can’t see the ground below me. I relish the strain of the muscles all up and down my body, groaning through months of disuse, but pleased to finally move after being stuck on the ground for so long. Up in the clouds, I swear I can breathe a little better than I could not even ten minutes ago. My head is clearer than it has been in nearly a year. I feel wonderful. Wonderful enough to pull my wings in tight against my back and free fall through every single inch of cloud cover before unfurling them and gliding out over the countryside.

I do a few loop-the-loops and have to pause after to shove my hair out of my face. Embarrassed, I glance around and laugh when I realize that absolutely no one could’ve seen me.

I take off again, dipping down below the clouds, only to find that I’m in a completely different place from where I started. I squint at the surrounding area, searching for any kind of defining landmark, and immediately backpedal when the Compound comes into view. I angle my wings into a sharp turn and take off in the direction I came from.

I figure I’m home free when I see the umbrella and I put on an extra burst of speed in an attempt to reach Bucky faster.

“Long time no see, (Y/N)!”

I jerk my head from side to side in an attempt to figure out where the voice came from. A second look over my right shoulder reveals Sam, slowly emerging from some kind of cloaking shield. Startled, I forget to move my wings and Immediately lose altitude.

“Fuck!” I yell out, flailing my arms as I plummet to the earth below.

I manage to roll and face the sky and I take several deep breaths to try and calm myself. When I open them again, Sam is diving, arms outstretched in an attempt to catch me. His yells reach my ears and I pull my wings tight against my body, arch my back and flip myself to face the ground once more. About fifty feet before I hit the ground, I snap my wings open and streak across the field. Sam pulls up just in time to avoid crashing into the dry grass below.

I bank sharply and land a short distance from Sam. Anger rises in my chest and I ball my hands into fists.

“What the fuck was that, Wilson?!” I shout. “Are you trying to fucking kill me? If I had something on me right now, I’d throw it and your head!”

"I am so sorry, (Y/N)," he says, hands raised in defense. "I didn't think you'd get spooked like that."

"You were cloaked. How the hell was I supposed to know you were there?"

He freezes. “I… I don’t know.”

I let out a frustrated yell and, with one strong stroke of my wings, I send him tumbling to the ground with a massive gust of air. I storm off in the direction of the car shouting back at Sam each time he tries to defend himself.

“Come on, (Y/N), it was an accident! I’m trying to apologize.”

Bucky lumbers over, raking his hands through his hair. “What’s going on?”

“Sam just about killed me,” I grind out.

“What?”

I fold my arms and shake my head. “I got distracted and didn’t realize how far I’d flown and wound up a little too close to the Compound. I got out of there as fast as I could, and I thought I made it. But Sam followed me all the way back and decided to do so cloaked-” I look back and Sam and glare. He has the decency to look guilty. “-And startled me bad enough that I stopped flying. I fell a few hundred feet before I could get my bearings and get my wings out again.”

Bucky looks past me at Sam, brows pulled together in a scowl. “What the hell, man?”

“Look, something appeared on the scanner, I had to go check it out. How was I supposed to know it was her? We didn’t even know she was back in town!”

“Yeah, but you figured out it was her, right? Why would you follow her back after that?”

“I don’t know. None of us have seen her in two years, man. I guess I wanted to make sure it was actually her.”

“You could’ve done that from a distance, Sam,” I counter. “You know I’m not a threat. Scaring the shit out of me put us both in danger.”

“You’re right.” Sam looks between Bucky and I and sighs. “I’ll get outta your hair.”

“I hope this doesn’t end up in a report, or something,” Bucky says.

Sam laughs. “Don’t worry, it won’t. My lips are sealed.”

I give him a tight lipped smile. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Don’t mention it, (Y/N).” He lifts off the ground and grins. “I’d hug you, but I’m pretty sure you’d just punch me.”

“Damn right I would,” I mutter. Bucky laughs and bumps his shoulder against mine.

“See you next week,” Bucky calls.

Sam nods and Bucky and I watch him disappear into the clouds. Bucky sighs and shakes his head and leads me back to the umbrella, muttering to himself about hating his job. I slip my arm around his waist and tell him he doesn’t hate his job, he just really enjoys his time off.

We spread out on the blanket and eat our lunch. We don’t talk much and I take off to fly again when I’m finished. I stay much closer this time, choosing to just do laps around the field instead of exploring like I had been earlier. Instead, I content myself with doing different aerial maneuvers and buzzing by the umbrella every once in a while.

I fly for another three hours before I get tired. I drop down in front of Bucky and he cracks one eye open to look up at me.

“Done?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“I know Sam said he wouldn’t tell anyone, but I can’t help being a little paranoid,” I say. I offer him a hand up and he takes it.

Bucky yanks the umbrella from the ground and shrugs. “I’d say that’s just smart thinking, on your part.”

I hum and begin packing things back into the picnic basket. I shake out and fold up the blanket and tuck it under my arm as we head back to the car.

“Did you at least get to relax a little?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah. I think I napped most of the time.”

I laugh. “Good.”

Once everything is packed in the car, Bucky helps me back into my seat. The interior is warm and my overworked muscles are crying out for me to rest. The hum and rhythm of the car isn’t helping my case much, and I grow drowsy the further we drive. Bucky takes my hand as I begin to doze off.

“Did you have any kind of fun today?” he asks.

“Mhm.” I nod and squeeze his hand. “Gonna be sore in the morning.”

"Sounds like you had a really good time, then."

"Yeah." I nod off for a moment, but suddenly remember something. "We gotta get pizza on the way home. I promised Clint."

"I know, sweetheart, don't worry. We'll grab a couple'a pies on the way back into town."

"Okay."

I sleep the entire way home.

Bucky gently shakes me awake when we arrive and I groggily crawl out of the car. I grab the bags from the bar and Bucky shakes his head when I reach for the umbrella and picnic basket. He gestures for me to follow him into the building and we trudge up the stairs to Clint’s apartment. Lucky is at the door as soon as we’re inside and Clint barely looks up from what he’s doing when Lucky barks and announces our arrival.

“What’d I say about coming home early?” Clint asks. “It’s not even dark out yet!”

I shake my head and drop the bags near the door.

“(Y/N) got a little too close to the Compound and Sam followed her back after she got picked up on the scanners,” Bucky explains.

“He decided to surprise me and I nearly fell to my death.” I grab plates from the cupboard. “So there’s that too.”

“Holy shit,” Clint says.

“Yeah… But we have pizza.”

Bucky holds up the two boxes and Clint grins and clears his arrows from the coffee table.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you guys around.”

I roll my eyes and hand him a plate. “There’s more benefits to us than pizza.”

Clint flips open a box as soon as they’re on the table and takes three slices. “Right now, the main benefit is pizza.” He leans over when I sit beside him and kisses my forehead. “You’re still pretty great without it, though.”

“Aw, thanks, Clint.”

We eat in relative silence, doing our best to ignore Lucky’s pleading looks, though Clint gives in and tosses him his own slice. Bucky admonishes Clint but Clint just laughs and jokes about throwing Lucky another slice.

When I finish, I lean forward on the table, stretching the muscles all up and down my back. Clint reaches over and presses his knuckles between my shoulderblades, gently massaging away the steadily growing soreness. Clint and Bucky talk between themselves and I watch as Lucky climbs into Bucky’s lap and curls up.

I smile and listen to their conversation and let their voices and Clint’s hand on my back lull me into soft relaxation.

---------

Part 6

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This fic:

@avengerscompound, @nerdy-bookworm-1998, @shirukitsune

#winterhawkxreader #readerxwinterhawk #readerxbucky barnes #bucky barnesxreader #bucky barnes #clint barton #winterhawk #reader insert marvel fic

[lovelyirony]

this is just a re-do of a post with a prompt from anonymous, so don’t worry if it looks a bit familiar! 

As Bucky is running away from government agents trying to snipe him for killing a politician, he supposes Natasha’s argument for him being suicidal might have the tiniest bit evidence behind it, which he previously argued it didn’t.

As he slides underneath a car, he debates whether or not she’ll find out about this one. He feels a buzz from his phone in his pocket.

Yeah, she knows.

He shoots one of the agents, nicking him in the knee. Oof, that’s gonna be a fun story to tell his grandkids about why they can’t climb on his lap. But he needs to get away, and that involves potentially shooting through a car.

Potentially turns into definitely and there’s enough of a distraction that he can commandeer a car, drive at least ten blocks away, and ditch it to run on foot, calling Natasha.

“You got my location, right?”

“Of course, you fucking idiot,” Natasha curses. “You…god I hate you sometimes. The job’s at least done, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll have to lay low, though. Which sucks because my apartment is right in the city.”

“I already have a punishment and idea for you in one.”

“I…what is it?”

“Sam’s picking you up. Tell you when you get to base. Bye.”

Bucky groans.

She must be really pissed at him.

Sam picks him up in the shittiest economy car in the world.

“I hate you for picking this one,” Bucky groans.

“A stupid decision grants a stupid car, that’s why you’re getting picked up in the 1995 Ford Fiesta of shame,” Sam says. “Nat’s real mad. And I also think you’re going to hate your next assignment.”

Bucky’s not sure what’s gonna happen. He’s hoping he’s not on latrine duty.

-

Oh, it’s so much worse.

“Protection detail?” Bucky asks. “And undercover? All at once? Nat, come on. I bet we don’t even need undercover.”

“You both are doing undercover because you both fucked up,” Natasha says. “And since apparently you don’t know how to act, maybe this will get you better lessons.”

“Cold,” Sam hisses.

“I will legally ask you to shut the fuck up,” Bucky growls out.

He packs his things. Realizes that Sam got to choose the name so his name is Roger Stevens. Fucking shit. (Steve, of course, approved this. Because Steve is an asshole.)

“Why does she even need a protector?” Bucky growls out, driving to the house. It’s in suburbia.

“Because she fucked up and whoever she pissed off might send more than she can handle,” Natasha says.

“We’re hinging my being here on a ‘maybe’?”

“And because you got caught by government agents, which would be a rookie move,” Natasha says. “There’s a reason that I can still go my same nail salon for five years and now you have to get your hair cut somewhere else. And why you got a wedding china set and you have a backstory of being married.”

“I hate you.”

“A lot of people do, take a number.”

If it helps (and it mostly doesn’t), Sharon Carter is also not happy. She is in the house with the most dangerous look Bucky has seen.

“So I’m stuck in this fucking hell house with him?” Sharon asks.

Maria Hill is her boss. Woman is a scary, competent human. Bucky wouldn’t cross her.

(Then again, you also shouldn’t cross a certain redhead who could make you disappear within twenty minutes, maybe thirty if it’s a surprise. But he did.)

“Keys are by the front door, hope you know your address! Bye!” Natasha says. “Don’t kill each other or we lose the deposit!”

Maria Hill smiles. Of course the only time Bucky’s ever seen her smile is at the suffering of others. How typical.

So then they are left alone.

“Let’s read the cover story,” Sharon says. “And I don’t need protection, Maria’s just paranoid.”

Bucky snorts.

“Yeah, okay, let’s go with that.”

Sharon sends him a sharp look.

They meet while on a cruise.

Bucky fucking hates his life.

“A fucking cruise,” he mutters. “As if I would ever step foot onto any of those fucking–”

“We had a beach wedding?!” Sharon cries out. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it!”

They are both in a bad mood.

It’s also awkward because this is a house. They have decorations. They have tea towels.

And a neighbor comes to visit.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” she says brightly. “My name is Karen Tent, so lovely to meet you both!”

She then invades the house with her Tupperware. Literally speeds past them and it’s not like Sharon judo-chop her throat or anything.

“What a lovely house you two have!” Karen cheers. “Of course the color palette is a little bit drab, but I’m sure you’ll change that soon enough. When Linda told me we had new neighbors, I could hardly believe it myself, but here you are! Now, how did you two meet? Have you married yet? If not, I hope that you are living apart, you know.”

“The rings are in boxes,” Sharon answers smoothly, noting that they’ll need to ask Maria where the fuck the rings are. “You know how move-ins are. I’m Melanie Stevens, this is Roger Stevens. How nice to see you so very unexpectedly.”

“Well, that’s what neighbors are for!” Karen answers, her voice shrill as ever. “I brought over my famous cookie bars. Everyone says they’re good, and I believe they always are. Tell me Melanie, what do you like baking most?”

“Yes dear, tell her,” Bucky answers, smiling. “I seem to remember…lemon bars?”

“That’s right,” Sharon says, sending Bucky a smile. “They are really good. Just delightful.”

“Oh you’ll have to bring some over!” Karen responds. “Now, let me tell you a little bit about the neighborhood…”

She talks for a fucking hour. Bucky wants to drink. So badly. He saw the wine on the counter.

Sharon, to her credit, keeps trying to use certain “end” phrases. Karen either knows it and knows she won’t be budging, or will not ever take a hint in her lifetime.

“And you simply must not ever play loud music in your backyard,” Karen says. “We’ve had a couple of problems with the Richardsons, but nothing a few calls won’t fix.”

“You called the police?” Sharon asks.

“Well yes!”

“Oh my god,” Bucky mutters.

“I am sure that’s not exactly the measure I would have done,” Sharon says. “But I am tired and don’t want to get into it now,” she says quickly, noticing Karen’s “confused” expression.

“I say we need some time to rest, today is gonna be a lot of moving,” he says. “So nice of you to stop by, Karen. I’ll return your dish as soon as possible.”

Karen is ushered out the door, placated with two waves, and they both groan.

“I’m gonna fucking hate everything after this,” Sharon mutters. “My name is fucking Melanie. Maria knows…” she trails off, facing the very real boxes that were obviously packed with dishes and miscellaneous items.

Bucky finds four spatulas. He doesn’t know why there are four.

“What the fuck,” he mutters, noting the incredibly cheesy salt-and-pepper set.

“Welcome to married life,” Sharon says sarcastically. “We’re gonna have a blast.”

Dinner is spent with Sharon trying to convince Bucky that she’s “fine” and in “no danger” at all.

“Who did you piss off?”

“Sitwell.”

“Oh my god. You’re screwed.”

“He’s a lapdog, I’m not screwed.”

“He’s the lapdog of Pierce. You’re screwed.”

Sharon thunks her head on the table.

“Can we at least repaint the bedrooms? They suck.”

“If you think I’m sleeping in a separate room you’re dead wrong,” Bucky says. “You have a target the size of New York on your back. Uh-uh.”

“You will sleep on the floor and get out when I shower or change,” Sharon threatens.

“Of course.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

Married life is not so bad. Except when Karen and the rest of the neighbors tend to visit or talk to them for about fifteen minutes on the lawn.

“It’s your turn to cut the grass,” Sharon groans, flopping on the couch. “If I have to hear Kevin tell me one more time that you should be treating me better, I’m going to explode. He’s trying to lecture me on how to cut grass.”

“On it,” Bucky says. “Your turn to go get groceries, I ran into Karen and her kid last time. I think she wants me to stop buying so much hummus.”

“Not our fault it’s good,” Sharon mutters.

-

And then, of course, avoiding the various assassins that are sent out at random intervals and at public locations (including their own house) while convincing the neighbors that there’s nothing going on.

This involves pretending an agent of Hydra is their cousin.

“This is Jen, she’s visiting for the day!” Sharon says, squeezing “Jen’s” wrist hard enough to make her stay quiet. “We have so much to catch up on, you probably won’t see me or–or Roger again for the day! Ha ha!”

“Well where’s her car?” Linda asks, looking around the neighborhood. “I don’t see anything…”

“She’s a hippie environmentalist, she walked,” Bucky answers. “Jen, let’s go catch up in the house, yeah?”

“Yeah,” the agent squeaks out sadly, knowing exactly what is going to happen.

She’s delivered tied up in rope on the steps of Maria’s office with a note of “please stop this from happening we’re planting azaleas.”

Maria snorts.

Bucky starts to think they’re getting too attached to this. It’s been four months.

He started a garden. They’re growing tomatoes.

He also notices Sharon a little bit differently.

Because she drags him out of bed.

“Legally? You have to go to brunch with me. Illegally? You like the breakfast burrito too much.”

She’s scarily competent with anything that could be classed as a weapon. Or their groceries.

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky yells at her as she throws the jar of tomato sauce. “I am not cleaning that up!”

“Tough shit!” Sharon answers, dodging a bullet. “It wasn’t even the good kind of tomato sauce!”

“It was fine, sweetheart!” Bucky growls out.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me in the middle of a battle!” Sharon yells. “Strictly after!”

“You’re the weirdest fucking married couple,” one of the agents wheezes out as Bucky is holding him as a sort of shield.

“Thanks,” they say in unison, grinning.

-

The punishment for them both doesn’t exactly turn out as planned, both Natasha and Maria agree. In fact, it is almost worse.

They are both reckless, subvert orders, and get along like a house on fire by the end of it.

“You can still be together, we just need the house back,” Natasha says.

“Thank god,” Bucky groans. “I get to stop being Roger and I get rid of Karen in one fell swoop.”

Sharon untenses her shoulders while she’s sitting at the kitchen table.

“Can I keep the knife set?”

“No,” Maria says. “I’ll send you a link to where I got it.”

“Why can’t I keep it if you can get another set?”

“Steal it,” Bucky stage-whispers. Sharon grins back at him.

“You have the best ideas, babe.”

“You are not stealing anything,” Maria scowls.

“Sure we aren’t,” Bucky says easily.

“You stole my heart,” Sharon sing-songs, knowing damn well it’s going to make Maria barf.

“Aw babe…” Bucky says, holding her hand. Natasha fake-retches.

“I hate you both,” she declares. “And I won’t be there for your actual wedding.”

“You made us tell people we had a wedding on a beach, were you assuming that you were getting an invitation?” Bucky asks.

Sharon snickers, getting the last of her bags out into the car.

“Where to now?” she asks him.

“I think that there are some apartments we can look at…”

-

“We’ve made a collective monster,” Maria decides, blinking. “We Frankensteined this.”

“We did,” Natasha says, staring at the house. There are still little bits of glass. An unfortunately busted can of beans where someone had been knocked out and they had “conveniently” forgotten to clean it up from yesterday.

Well. Sharon and Bucky are going to cause havoc on the world. Maria and Natasha just hope they can cover the other while doing so.

#fake married au #fake marriage au #sharon carter #bucky barnes #winter13 #winter soldier #agent thirteen #lovelyirony writes #maria hill #natasha romanoff #yes i made the shitty neighbor a karen what else would i have done #AND YES THEY DID START A GARDEN AND PLANT AZALEAS #I SAID WHAT I SAID

[valkyriesryde]

Two Nerds in a Blanket

Pairing: Bucky x Rogers!Reader, Sam x Steve

Summary: In desperate need for a date to your work’s Christmas party you, reluctantly, seek the help of one Bucket Brains.

Word Count: 6,400ish lol

A/N: IT’S HERE!!! Feels like most of my fics are dedicated to @flowerymoonlight​ but tbh this wouldn’t be here without her so thank her for it. Big thanks to anyone else I rambled to about this baby you da bomb diggity. 

~~~

A slip of the tongue. A simple bit of miscommunication was all that had gotten you into this mess. You weren’t even the one to say it. You hadn’t even confirmed anything. Now? Now you were stuck in a predicament. 

Cheryl had been talking about how she was so excited to meet everyone’s significant others and to introduce her wife to everyone. Then suddenly the four of you at your cubicle were talking about how awesome it was going to be with the eight of you. 

Not once were you even given a chance to speak, not once were you able to tell them that in fact, no, you did not have a significant other that you could bring to the Christmas party. When you left work that day with only a week until the party a plan started brewing in your head, it was too late for you to correct them, you needed a date.

Tony said no. He was too much of a public figure and a happily married man. 

Clint told you to ask Natasha. She said no. 

Now you sat next to Sam, your last option.

“Please Sam, you are my only option now!” 

“Yea I’m not your only option though, am I?” Sam smirked as he continued to avoid answering your pleas. You let out a sigh and threw your head back. “I’m pretty sure Steve wouldn’t be too happy with me doing that, why don’t you ask Bucky?”

“Ask Bucky what?” Bucky and Steve walked into the open lounge and kitchen area with the shopping as Bucky started unloading the food and Steve came to lean over the couch behind Sam. 

“Y/N needs a date to her work’s Christmas party” Sam was nonchalant about the whole thing while Steve raised an eyebrow and looked at you with narrowed eyes. 

“And you asked Sam?” you nod slightly, mumble ‘just for the night?’ but Steve’s mouth falls open and his grip on Sam’s shoulders tightened. “I’d rather not share my boyfriend with my sister.” 

Sam’s face falls and then scrunches up, “yea I’d rather not date both the Rogers.” 

In the kitchen, Bucky stifles a laugh as he continues putting away the frozen foods. 

“You could take Bucky?” Steve suggests, leaving the two of you to help Bucky.

“I’d rather not.”

“Does Bucky get a say in this?” Bucky threw up his hands as you stood from your seat. You do this all the time with Sam, talk about him right in front of him like he isn’t even there, drives him crazy. 

“It’s okay Bucket. I’d rather not go than go with you anyway,” you shrug it off but your shoulders sag, you were really looking forward to that party, maybe you can make some excuse as to why your partner couldn’t be there. 

Bucky sighs as Steve nudges his arm and gives him a pleading look, mouthing ‘please’ Bucky rolls his eyes. “Fine, Y/N. I’ll be your stupid date but you owe me!” 

“You don’t have to-“

“No, no I’ll do it. You just owe me a favour alright?” Your face lights up and you try to ignore the fact that you’ll be with Bucky, or the nagging voice in the back of your head that sounds a lot like Rebecca reminding you of that high school crush you used to have. 

~~~

Steve sat on the window sill that looked out across the street of his apartment. He had a notebook in hand and was drawing the potted plant that sat on the balcony across the way. It was a peaceful and serene moment.

“Greetings brother!” Moment over. “Is Bucket Brains here?”

“He’s in his room,” Steve nodded towards Bucky’s room and he watched you walk straight in, scream, and walk straight out. “He just got out of the shower.” Steve bit back a laugh. You shot a glare at him and Bucky came out of his room pulling a shirt over his head.

“Do you know how to knock?!” 

“I need to wash my fucking eyes out!” 

“Who gave you a key?” Bucky pulled a box of cereal out of the cupboard with a huff and slammed a bowl on the bench. “You’re here so much we should start charging you rent.”

“Oh please,” you plopped into one of the stools, Steve closed his eyes and leaned his head back ready for another battle between you two, same thing different day. “I have every right to be here, I’m family. What’s your excuse?” 

“I live here!” 

“But at what cost?” 

“Fucking hell you two bicker like an old married couple!” Sam walks over to Steve and pushes his notebook out of his lap, replacing it with himself. 

“Us?” Bucky exclaims as Steve pushes Sam to the ground and sits at the bench next to you. “You two bicker like a freaking married couple.”

“That doesn’t count,” Steve says and Sam stands and tries to push himself back onto Steve’s lap, much to his annoyance. “We basically are an old married couple.”

“Pfft. Like I’d marry you.” Steve gasps and pulls Sam closer, Bucky just ignores them. It was a common occurrence to witness Steve and Sam being sickeningly sweet.

“You take that back!” 

~~~

“Right, now that that’s out of the way I have to buy a dress.” You and Bucky, while Steve and Sam watched with amusement, had spent the past hour getting your story straight for the party that night. You had everything down to the last detail, where you met (through Steve), when you got together (two months ago), your first date (a simple dinner and a movie). In six hours, you and Bucky would be walking through the door to your to the Christmas party, for now, you needed an outfit. 

“You don’t have a dress?” 

“I don’t exactly go to many events Jameson.” Bucky bit back a growl. Those stupid fucking nicknames. 

“I wonder why. It’s the day of the event, you couldn’t buy one earlier?” 

“I’m not great at time management... and shop dressing sucks.”

“You need a babysitter.” You flipped Bucky off as you started to walk towards the door, you didn’t notice him pull his shoes on.

“Isn’t that your job now?” Bucky smacked Sam over the head as he jogged to catch up with you at the door.

“I have to go to the mall anyway,” he shrugged. 

Bucky was different when he was by himself. You noticed that as soon as the two of you got into the car. He didn’t bite back as much, his fingers tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the radio, he was carefree. 

You dragged him into shop after shop trying to find the perfect dress for the night. Bucky didn’t seem too fazed. He followed suit, even picked out some things for you to try every now and then. There wasn’t much chat, you warned him about your coworkers.

“Stacy is a bit intense, she’ll probably question you but she means well.” 

He nodded along outside the changing room not really paying attention to what you were saying but just to the sound of your voice, it was rare he got to hear it not making snide comments towards him, he enjoyed the peace. 

“Okay this is it,” you stepped out of the changing room with dress in hand and smiled at him.

“Are you saying that because it’s good or because you’re sick of shopping?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know Bucket,” you winked. 

“Please stop calling me that.”

“You called me Inferior Rogers for a year so uh no.” 

Steve liked to describe you and Bucky’s relationship as love-hate, he wanted to tell people that you got along, that you were one big happy family but alas, that wasn’t the case. Bucky liked to say “she’s about one comment away from being as annoying as my sister”. Bucky meant by this of course, “she’s my best friend’s sister, as much as I want to kiss her stupid face I have to pretend I see her as a sister too”. 

You liked to say “Bucky is the bane of my existence”. Rebecca would follow up with “she’s in denial they’re gonna get married and she’s gonna be my actual sister one day”. You, of course, meant, “Rebecca was my only friend in high school because people used to only be friends with us to get to Bucky even though he’s a giant nerd who stole my brother...and I’m angry that I want to kiss his stupid face”. Rebecca, well, she meant what she said. 

The youngest of the Barnes clan had been rooting for the two of you since senior year when you went to a college party with the boys and got put into seven minutes in heaven with Bucky. Nothing happened, of course, at least that’s what you agreed and what you told a grinning Rebecca and tight-mouthed Steve when you walked out. The heated making out that was brought on by pent up feelings and snide comments was one of those ‘this never happened’ things. That was a long time ago. 

“I’ll pick you up at 7 then?” You sat in your car now, dropping Bucky off back at his apartment. Your shopping was in the back, Bucky’s one bag, he bought socks, was in his hand as he sat with his leg out the door.

“It’s at a gallery, like ten minutes away from here so we could walk? I can meet you here?”

“It’s at Steve’s place?” 

“Oh no, I tried but they went for the modern art one.” You shrug your shoulders, Steve was booked out for the holiday season so your work couldn’t get in to have theirs there, would have made things easier, you could have just hung out with him all night.

“Damn she’s a bitch.”

“Yea, ahh well. Don’t forget your notes! I’ll see you at 7?”

“See you at 7.”

~~~ 

“Fuck you!”

“I’m trying to help!” 

You walked into the boy’s apartment and stood in the doorway watching Bucky and Sam yell at each other from across the room. Bucky yelled over the back of the couch, his hand in his hair and dressed ready for the night except for the tie left undone around his neck. Sam stood in the doorway of his bedroom, he turned to you as soon as he noticed your presence.

“Get your boyfriend the fuck out of my apartment!” 

“Just before you were complaining that I was leaving!” Sam fumbled trying to come up with a comeback as Bucky slouched back into the couch and tried - and failed - to tie his tie.

“What the fuck guys?” you threw your hands up and slapped Bucky’s hands away, fixing the tie yourself. “One of these days someone is going to call the police claiming you guys are having a domestic dispute!” Bucky watched the concentration on your face, once again not paying attention to what you were saying, he had to sit on his hands and hold himself back from leaning in because all he wanted to do was kiss the crease on your forehead and suck your tongue as it sticks out the corner of your mouth slightly. 

“It’s not my fault Bucky can’t tie a tie!” 

“Neither can you!” he snaps out of your trance as you stand up straight and offer him your hand which he gladly takes. 

~~~

“It’s going to be fine.” The party was in full swing when you and Bucky arrived, you weren’t sure if you were talking to yourself or Bucky at this point. His hand rested on your lower back as he guided you through the gallery.

“Take a deep breath Poppet.” You bit your lip at the use of the nickname. You and Bucky weren’t strangers to nicknames, Bucket...and all of the bucket related names like Bucket Brains, Bucky-Bucket and Bucket Barnes, Buckerooster and Buckaroo, Inferior Rogers, Roger Rabbit, Stupid head, Stink for brains, Jerky McJerkface was a fan favourite and there was that one time he yelled “Abomination!” at you before storming out because you ate the last of his Nutella sandwich...you claim you thought it was Becca’s but who’s to say. 

Poppet was different. Poppet was a name of endearment. Poppet wasn’t something you’d ever heard Bucky call anyone before. Bucky had never called you anything endearing before. It’s just the deal, he’s just pretending, you told yourself cursing Becca for putting ideas in your head about the prospect of you and Bucky constantly. 

There’s no time to even think about it as your friends are coming up to you and introductions are being given out, Bucky is shaking hands, everyone is smiling and laughing and a glass of champagne is being pushed into your hand. 

It’s no time at all when Stacey is questioning Bucky about his work and his family and then the dreaded question comes up, “How did you two meet then?”

Bucky lets out a chuckle and before you can answer he’s going on about how when you were seven and him ten he came round to hang out with your brother, you wouldn’t leave them alone and Bucky ended up elbowing you “accidentally I swear” in the face. The group erupts in laughter as Bucky describes you crying and running to your mother with a chipped tooth, “wasn’t the best first impression, but her brother and I have been best friends ever since really.”

There’s a couple aww’s, you raise your eyebrows and give him a what the hell look because that wasn’t what we discussed. Bucky shrugs, it just came out. 

“You two must be high school sweethearts then! That’s so sweet!” 

“Oh no no not at all,” you try to stop her, try to tell Stacey that, no, you were not high school sweethearts at all but bucky beat you to it with a laugh. 

"No, couldn't stand her in high school. But after college she seemed to be less of a brat,” he looks at you and digs his hand in his pocket with a wink, “anyway, I moved in with her brother and we started hanging out and I started seeing her in a different light I guess." 

You stand there with your mouth slightly ajar, Bucky shifts slightly from side to side and takes a mouthful of his champagne.

"Well, how'd you get together then?"

He laughs nervously, not looking at you but you’re still looking at him, this wasn’t the plan! You don’t know what to say, your story doesn’t make sense now but Bucky speaks up, “actually have Steve to thank for that. He asked to go to the museum with the both of us, separately of course, then canceled after we were already there waiting for him.” He gives you a nervous glance, “she's a giant nerd but so am I so we decided to just go in and look around. Ended up there for what? Two hours? Something like that. I think that's when I fell for her as silly as that sounds. Something adorably intriguing about a girl you have to drag away from a sculpture because she's been admiring it for fifteen minutes. Yea, that was that." Bucky laughs again and the group aww’s and is gushing about how adorable that is and how sweet of a story it is.

You’re shocked to say the least. Shocked because that did happen, all of that. About five months ago when Steve invited you to a day out at the museum and you ran into Bucky outside. You were both shocked but thought, ya know what, fuck it. You didn’t HAVE to go around the new exhibits together but that’s what ended up happening. You moved at your own pace, sometimes reading through the information together. That was until you got to the marble statues and, well, you ended up looking at one for a good fifteen minutes before, like Bucky said, he dragged you away by the arm. Saying things like "what's so interesting about a sculpture anyway, it's the space exhibition you should really be paying attention to."

You laugh with your friends and the conversation quickly moves on to everyone else’s stories of how they met their partners. Bucky won’t look at you, he’s biting his lower lip and paying an awful lot of attention to his empty champagne glass until there’s a lull in the conversation and he pipes up and offers to get everyone another round. 

By 1am you’re both drunk and stumbling down the street with a bottle of something something each and the air is filled with laughter. The moment earlier is forgotten about, the night filled with laughter, stories from work and dancing with friends instead of awkward glances and nervous small talk.

You almost fall into Bucky’s apartment but he’s clutching your waist and your arm is slung lazily around his shoulder as you keep each other up. 

“We gotta - shh - baby we gotta be quiet” he nods towards the hallway where Sam and Steve are most likely sleeping as you sit on the couch and bring the bottle to your lips. 

“You can stop calling me baby, no one’s around,” you look around and Bucky sits on the floor next to you, his bottle sitting on the table. 

“Maybe I like it baby,” he emphasizes the word and there’s a smirk on his face as he looks at you. It’s just the alcohol you think when you see a twinkle in his eye. 

“Fuck, marry, kill Bucket!” You say sliding off the sofa onto the floor next to him. Bucky groans and throws his head back.

“Alright, you first.”

“Okay. Wanda, Nat or me?”

“That’s just all the girls but Pepper?” He taps his chin and he’s thinking as if he hasn’t already made up his mind. But he can’t tell you that.

“Well she’s married so you can’t have her.”

“Kill-”

“You have to say why!”

Bucky laughs and takes the bottle from you, taking a drink before continuing. “Kill Nat, she can’t cook. Fuck you because it’ll shut you up for a second. Marry Wanda, then she can make me plum pies for the rest of her life.” He licks his lips, glazed over eyes looking towards the tv as he thinks about Wanda’s famous pies and the fact that it’s all a lie. 

“Like you’d be good enough in bed to shut me up”

“I can show you if you want,” Bucky winks and you shove him with your elbow and snatch the bottle back, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “Alright, Sam, Clint or me?” He lists off the names on his fingers and you roll your eyes at him including himself, Pietro is an option too he didn’t HAVE to say himself.

“Oh, that’s easy. I’m killing Sam, I’d rather not have my brother’s dirty seconds.”

“He’s got some weird kinks as well.”

“How do you..never mind. Fuck Clint because Nat says he’s good in bed and marry you.” Bucky perks up at your answer, you’re picking at the label on the bottle hoping he doesn’t ask why.

“You have to say why.” Fuck.

“Having to deal with Clint’s unpredictability all day? No thanks, he and Nat have it down packed.” 

“Oh, so I’m predictable?” Bucky feigns hurt and clutches his chest like you’ve shot him, you shove him again and he almost goes tumbling to the side with laughter. 

“No stupid. I bet you’d treat your sig-nif-i-cant other like royalty.” You’re smiling at him and your worlds are spoken slowly to get them out right but you’re so sure of yourself. You’ve seen Bucky in a relationship, though they only happen rarely and he’s absolutely loyal and caring. 

“Only if it was the right person.” You’re looking at each other and Bucky starts to lean in closer. You follow, your eyes darting to his lips as his tongue pokes out quickly and he licks his bottom lip. 

“And what’s the right person,” you whisper and you think, in the corner of your eye, you see his hand starts to raise towards you. All of a sudden Bucky is on his feet and you hear the bathroom door shut and what sounds like Bucky vomiting. 

“Neat.” You take another swig of the bottle and crawl back onto the couch, sleep sounds good, bad decisions are made with alcohol. 

~~~

“Hey,” something or someONE is poking your foot and it’s awfully annoying but not as annoying as the sound of the beEPING MICROWAVE. “Hey wake up.” 

“Go away,” you swat at the noise, Steve, but he just laughs and pushes your legs off the sofa, sitting in their place. 

“Looks like you and Bucky got along.” You can hear his smirk, how is it possible to hear someone’s smirk. God your head hurts, your stomach hurts too much champagne. You groan and he laughs again.

Without warning the sound of two pans smacking together rings out through the place followed by Sam’s laughter in the hallway and Bucky’s yelling. 

“I’m gonna go throw up.” 

Steve sits on the side of the tub with a bottle of water while you empty the little contents that remain in your stomach. As annoying as brothers can be at least you know he’s always here for you, even when you’ve just vomited in his toilet. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Advil is in the left cupboard.”

“No, but thanks. Do you remember when you canceled on going to the museum with Bucky and me?” You’re searching through his cabinet and he chucks you the water bottle when you find the Advil. 

“Yea why?” Steve shrugs and nods his head.

“Why’d you do that?” As soon as you ask he’s got that guilty look on his face. The same one he gave you when he fed your stuffed teddy to the dog next door when you were seven and the same one he gave you when he and Sam and moved in together three months after the fact (that one still stings). 

“I just want you two to get along! You both love the museum so I thought if you had a common interest…” Steve shrugs again and you have to applaud his dedication to getting you and Bucky to get along, if only. 

“Our common interest is you, you idiot.” You think about all the times you and Bucky have fought, all the times you felt annoyed by him “you’re why we don’t get along.” 

“I think if anything, that should be a reason to get along.” You’re too hungover to explain this shit to Steve and his thick, loving brain now. 

“We’re at each other’s throats for your attention Stevie, now leave me to be hungover on your bathroom floor.” The cold tile is refreshing against your cheek, Steve stands up and kicks your leg, offering you a ride home and a promise to drop the subject but not without a “I love you both.”

Bucky regrets getting out of bed. Not even the pile of apology bacon from Sam for waking him up with PANS could fix his comment.

“The most important thing I want to know about your night is did y’all FUCK?!” 

“Dude, that’s my sister?” Steve walks into the kitchen and Bucky sighs in relief that you’re not with him, he doesn’t think he can face you after last night. 

“Don’t call me dude, my name is baby to you.” Sam points his tongs at Steve who just bats them away with a finger and wraps him in a hug. 

Bucky hates feelings, romance sucks. His head is in his hands and he is still very much hungover “no we didn’t fuck, it was fine. Went smoothly, nothing scandalous.”

Sam pulls back from Steve and gives Bucky a pointed look, he’s gearing for an earful. “Is it a genetics thing?” Sam turns to Steve and smacks his chest, “Are all Rogers just really fucking dense?” 

“What did I do?” 

“It took four months for you to realize I was asking you out and taking you on dates you buffoon!” Bucky swears this conversation was about him and you for a second but fuck apparently not. Maybe he could slip out? Go back to sleep? Avoid you for a few weeks and not think about the fact he almost kissed you or let spill about the museum…

“And I apologized but what does that have to do with anything?” Bucky catches Sam’s eye and his heart drops, his eyes are begging him not to say anything.

“Sam -”

“Nah you had your shot and you missed. In fact the net was here,” he points in front of him, “and you threw the ball allllllll the way over there,” and his hand is stretched out towards the window. Steve sits down on the seat next to Bucky, his attention caught in the conversation he doesn’t quite understand. “Steve, baby, love of my life, please don’t kill the messenger here.”

“Sam.” Bucky is about to leap over the counter and throttle Sam...if only his head didn’t hurt so much.

“Bucky wants to bone your sister and I honestly CANNOT believe she hasn’t realized that. Why else would he have said yes to last night?!” 

Steve lets out a nervous laugh, he shakes his head and looks between Bucky and Sam, “what? Noo.” But when he looks at Bucky and sees his face dropped and the defeated look in his eyes Steve knows the truth and his mouth hangs open.

“It’s not like that Steve-”

“Oh no sorry, Bucky has a giant nerd crush on your sister.” Right, that’s it. Bucky leaps out of his chair and tackles Sam, his headache long forgotten about. 

“I TOLD YOU IN CONFIDENCE!” They’re scuffling on the ground muttering things like “you had your chance!” and “you fucker!” before Steve is pulling them apart and onto separate couches. 

“I was really rooting for you man.” Bucky narrows his eyes at Sam and rubs his hands down his face. This could not be a worse day. 

“Is this true?” Oh okay no Steve wants to talk about it this it could be a worse day. 

“It’s not like anything is or ever was going to happen. She’s your sister, I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“And she hates him.”

“And she hates me yes thank you Sam.”

“She doesn’t hate you.” Steve stands up and walks into the hallway. That’s when it dawned on him. You were right. It’s him. 

Steve thinks back to all the times you and Bucky fought as kids and realizes that he was the common factor. You were fighting over him. Then as the years went by and you grew you just began fighting about everything, but it all started with having to share Steve. When you made Bucky eat sand at the playground when you were eight Steve thought it was because Bucky had stolen your toy but it was because Steve had chosen to play with Bucky. When you were twelve and you yelled at Bucky for being an asshat it was because Steve chose to ride bikes with him instead of you. Steve wondered how long Bucky had felt this way about you and how he’d missed it. His gut fell at the idea that he was the reason Bucky hadn’t done anything about his feelings. 

He turned and walked back into the lounge, determined to set right what he had caused to sit adrift for however long. “Right okay this is the weirdest fucking to happen to me and I’m friends with Clint and Tony. Is it just a crush or is it proper feelings?” 

After getting over the initial shock of Steve seeming okay with Bucky’s feelings he has to take a second to register what he’s being asked before he can answer with confidence. “Feelings?” ...or little confidence.

“You need to be sure because if you hurt her I will not hesitate to kill you.” Sam is taken aback by Steve’s outburst almost as much as Bucky but he’s also a little turned on right now…

“Okay, yea I’m sure. I want to date her I’m sorry okay. It won’t happen.” 

“That’s a lie.” Steve knows Bucky would never do anything to jeopardize their friendship, and he knows that if his feelings for you are real that he wouldn’t do anything that would risk hurting you. “Knowing Sam, he’ll make something happen.” But he also knows Sam’s meddling ass...who happened to suggest you ask Bucky in the first place… “Anyway, if you get married you’d be my actual brother and that’s pretty cool.” 

Bucky’s face lights up at the idea of marrying you. He only really thought it was a crush, maybe mixed in with some sexual tension, until last night. Having you on his arm, pretending you were his. The comments people made about you looking so good together. Bucky wanted that for the rest of his life. He didn’t love you, or at least he wasn’t sure of that yet, but fuck he could see it happening, he wanted it to happen. And you almost kissed him last night, you said you’d marry him so maybe, just maybe, there was something there.

After he’s showered, shaved and dressed Bucky is out the door and to your apartment as Sam slings his arm over Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m really proud of you, didn’t think you had that in you. Didn’t even punch him.”

“I think I’m already too emotionally invested in their relationship.” Steve sighs and leans back into Sam.

“Shit man me too she better say yes.” 

~~~

Bucky’s palms are clammy and his heart is racing when he reaches the door to your apartment. He has to count to three and take a deep breath before he knocks on the door but he’s thoroughly disappointed, and also a little relieved when Wanda opens it.

“You look almost as bad as her.” She looks Bucky up and down and gestures for him to come in, Bucky looks around the open lounge and kitchen area but there’s no sign of you.

“I feel like death is she here?” He’s frantic, he must sound like an idiot.

“She’s in her room.” 

There’s a soft knock on your door but no answer. Bucky looks over his shoulder but there’s no sight of Wanda anymore either as he slips into your room and sees you curled up and fast asleep on one side of your bed with still slightly wet hair and pajamas. 

He can’t leave, he considers it but he’s come so far. He could wake you up. But he doesn’t want you to be mad at him if you aren’t already. So Bucky sits on the side of the bed. Then after a few minutes of twiddling his thumbs, he’s scooting up to the top of your bed and laying his head on the pillow, careful not to make any sudden movements. The next thing he knows he’s fast asleep next to you.

You wake up and there’s a heavy warmth over your waist and your phone is flashing with missed messages. You peer over your shoulder and see Bucky sound asleep, turning onto your back you continue looking at him confused and pick up your phone...that has nine missed messages...one from Wanda and EIGHT from Rebecca, they state:

Wanda aka MOM: You guys are the cutest fake couple ever lmao

Betta Barnes: EXCUSE ME MA’AM!

FUCKING ANSWER YOUR PHONE!

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!

CHECK FB!!!!

I’M LOSING MY SHIT!

ARE YOU AND MY DEAR BROTHER DATING!

HE WON’T PICK UP!!!

YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TELL ME IF YOU AND BUCKY STARTED DATING I FEEL VERY BETRAYED BUT ALSO VERY HAPPY! I’M HAVING A LOT OF CONFLICTED FEELINGS RN

Attached to Wanda’s message is a picture from the party of you and Bucky. His arm around your neck and yours around his torso, his lips pressed to your temple and you’re both laughing. You have a vague memory of the cameraman telling Bucky to show you some love and his striking the pose and then licking your cheek. That was five flutes in…oh no. Oh no Becca has seen these, this isn’t good. 

Bucky groans and grips your hip, pulling you closer until he opens his eyes and remembers where he is. His hand leaves your hip and curls under his cheek as he gives you a sheepish smile and mumbles hello.

“What are you doing here?” Your phone and the problem of Rebecca thinking you and Bucky are actually dating is put to the side the moment he smiles at you. Has it always been that nice to see him smile? 

“Wanted to talk but you were asleep...guess I fell asleep too.” Bucky rubs his eyes but he doesn’t move from his spot on his side next to you as you match his position. 

“Talk about what?” 

"I went off script last night." You suck in a breath as you remember what Bucky had said, the museum, the idea of him falling for you that day. 

"You did. Why?"

"Thought it was more believable," he’s playing with a loose string in the pillow, too scared to look at your reaction as he thinks maybe this was a mistake.

"Because you meant what you said?" You’re biting your lip hoping to god he says yes but why would he?.

"Every word." Bucky reaches out and pushes a loose strand of hair back from your face, his fingers trail down your cheek slowly.

"But you hate me? I'm Steve's annoying little sister," the whole reason you fought was because you were Steve’s sister?! Bucky hates you, Bucky thinks you’re annoying. Bucky meant every word.

"I'm not going to disagree with that second part. But I don't hate you. Disliked you a lot when were younger but never hate.” He chuckles as his fingers retreat from your cheek back under his pillow, they leave goosebumps on your skin. “Kinda like ya actually." He’s not looking you in the eye again and you’ve never seen Bucky so shy in all the years you’ve known him. 

"Does Steve know?” 

"Wouldn’t be here if he didn't. I know you don't like me much but I had to tell you. I thought it was just a stupid crush but after last night, I had so much fun and you were just you and I loved seeing you like that. You're not like that around me normally." It’s your turn to brush the hair back from his face as he tries to hide behind it and your fingers scratch through his beard until they settle on his jaw. Bucky closes his eyes momentarily feeling you against him in a way he never thought he would.

"That's because we don't get along," you have to be sure. You need to be sure this isn’t all just a game to him. You know better, you know Bucky would never do anything to intentionally hurt you but you need to be sure for your own heart’s sake. 

"Oh come on that's just banter neither of us means anything by it." He’s smiling at you and his eyes bounce between your eyes and your lips, god just kiss her he thinks, just fucking do it. 

"Maybe not. Want to know something I do mean though?" He’s nodding his head quickly and you’re leaning in and pressing your lips to his. Your hand grips his jaw and pulls him closer as his travel up your side and push you onto your back, his body shortly following as he settles with one leg between yours and his hips pressed to your side. 

Bucky is in bliss. He’s pretty sure he’s had dreams where he got to kiss you before but nothing could ever live up to the real thing. The feeling of your hands under his shirt on his shoulders, your fingers moving through his hair, your tongue. God your tongue welcoming him and drawing him in like he’s a sailor and you’re a siren in the middle of the ocean. He’d gladly follow you to the deepest depths. 

You pull away but Bucky doesn’t stray far and he’s got a giant shit-eating grin on his face which you’re sure you mirror as you lie there out of breath with him.

“Can I take you on a real date?” You nod and pull him down for another peck. Bucky rolls off of you settles down next to you with a kiss pressed to your shoulder.

“But tomorrow.” “Hmm?”

“Today I want to order McDonald’s and continue sleeping off this hangover.” You reach up and tangle your fingers back into his hair, soft and falling around your hand as Bucky laughs against your shoulder. “Are you going to join me?”

“Of course,” he sits up and kisses you again but only quickly before he pulls out his phone. “You order I need to do something.

From Bucky to Sam:

~~~

There is an empty McDonalds bag on the floor, half empty cups on the nightstands and you’re lying in bed with your head on Bucky’s shoulder watching the IT Crowd when Bucky breaks the silence. 

"Why is Rebecca sending me angry yet very supportive messages about us? These are from this morning before I came round...wait no this one was from an hour ago." He was finally looking through the dozen missed messages from his sister, having forgotten about them after texting Sam earlier when he noticed the pattern, some favorites included

I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU HURT HER

I’M SO HAPPY LET ME TELL MUM

BUCKY YOU LUCKY SON OF A BITCH

MY OTP I’M CRYING

And those were just the most recent ones...

"When I was 15 and drunk off cruisers I told her I was going to marry you and she has never let me forget it," better to pull off the bandaid on that little tidbit you think. You should have known she would spam him as well, you just hoped she didn’t say anything embarrassing. 

"I knew you had a crush on me.” Bucky squeezes your thigh that his hand rests on teasingly and you nudge him back telling him no you did not. “How does she already know?" 

"She made me triple pinky swear to tell her if anything even remotely romantic were to happen between..." 

"So you told her I was your fake boyfriend for a night and then that I asked you on a real date?"

"....no. but she saw the pictures from last night," you look up with a sly smile to see Bucky’s eyes go wide and his mouth drop open.

"There’s pictures?!?!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

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