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bookshelf-dust · 8 months

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kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst.

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing.

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat.

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls.

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see.

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way.

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself.

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily.

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is.

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.”

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them.

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be.

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand.

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t.

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge.

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit.

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets.

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything.

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it.

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell.

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen.

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that.

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low.

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help.

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs.

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so.

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die.

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears.

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms.

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he?

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees.

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.”

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away.

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use.

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back.

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.”

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath.

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it.

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now.

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice.

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself.

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip.

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold.

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?”

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him.

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t.

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working.

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.”

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left.

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand.

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone.

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating.

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms.

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen.

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night.

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch.

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask.

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry.

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time.

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch.

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands.

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch.

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.”

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up.

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die.

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much.

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father.

You have made him whole.

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side.

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!”

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face.

When you pull away, he whines.

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again.

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

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feerz · 10 days

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Ranking all the Jesuses from every version I've watched/listened to so far

without further ado let's get into it 🙌

Ian Gillan - 1970 Original concept album

The True Doer that you cannot outdo. The og who made this role what it is today. And since the og album was were I got my start and obsession with jcs, I have a huge fondness for him. There's just something so- so... about him. His vocals? Insane, fantastic, the golden standard. His Gethsemane is Everything. He raised the bar so high (literally lol) and made this role harder for everyone that came after him and I respect that. I also love his characterisation. He is a rockstar and he knows it. Adore this whiny ass messiah and his dramatics. 9/10

Ted Neeley - 1973 movie

Sad little mouse man. He's like some small rodent to me. His gethsemane is iconic, but beyond it I don't care to much about his Jesus. He's perfectly inoffensive, but I find him a bit boring. Poor guy also had the disadvantage of performing against Carl Anderson, who's too powerful and who commanded every scene he was in, outshining Jesus. Tedsus is not for me personally, but he's definitely not bad. 6/10

Camilo Sesto - Madrid 1975 album

I like him! He reminds me of Ian's Jesus but sadder (love to see it). Really good vocals. That 'POR QUE' ate. And his Gethsemane in general too. I don't have that much to say besides that, but Señor Sesto is really good in this role. 8/10

James Whitson - San Jose Civic Light Opera's 1990 production

Uhhhhhhh. Watched this in a discord watch party and for half of it we were thought this was Ted. It wasn't. Don't really know what to say, there wasn't anything really memorable or notable about him. Also has the disadvantage of being pared up with Carl Anderson, except it's even worse here. If Carl was anywhere near him, no chance I was paying attention to Jesus. Um... he chased Santa out of the Temple! That's something! 3/10

Steve Balsamo - 1996 London revival album

Steve Balsamo Jesus, my dearly beloved. How can you not love him. Just rewatch his Gethsemane for the 1000th time. His vocals are out of this world, man has organ pipes in place of vocal chords. Props to him for actually crying in gethsemane and still killing it. Absolutely fantastic. And his beautiful hair and those brown eyes really add to it. He's such a sad pathetic man, it's great. No complaints 10/10

Glenn Carter - 2000 movie

I'm shaking, please buy him brown contacts. I am a glensus hater, although I have to admit that during my second viewing I didn't dislike him as much. Easily my least favourite gethsemane (lmm excluded), except his delivery of "what you started, I didn't start it", that was surprisingly good. Again, I'm a hater but bonus points for the entertainment factor. 4/10

Paul Nolan - 2012 Broadway revival

BORING! Sorry your trouple doesn't save you from being so incredibly bland. It's like looking at a white wall that has just been painted over and you're watching it dry. Gethsemane is solid vocally, I like his interactions with others. But Jesus himself? No thanks. The staging of the crucifixion was so great, but then there he is with his mouth agape like a baby bird being fed and unconvincing "suffering". Also, no blood? 3/10

Ben Forster - 2012 UK Arena tour

THIS IS THE ONE. My roman empire. My most dear blorbo. He's been living in my head rent free for months. I love him so much. He's just so incredibly stressed out and angsty and pathetic and constantly on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. His gethsemane is my favourite. Just pretty much everything I could want from a performance of it. The way he curls up on the floor? The little moments when his voice breaks a bit from emotion?? The knee thing??? Great, fantastic, stunning, no notes. Also I adore his costuming, finally Jesus is given something more interesting. 11/10

John Legend - 2018 NBC

Hot take, but he's not nearly as bad as people make him out to be. He's just fine. I do enjoy his voice, Poor Jerusalem is especially good. Although I don't love his acting in the second act, but I really liked him in the first one. This Jesus just seems really nice and friendly and I love that. Gethsemane is solid vocally, even without the G5. Anyways he's not bad at all! 6/10

Andrew Latobesi - 2018 Villanova College

This was another wildcard from the watch party. Jesus didn't stand out much because we were all a bit distracted by Judi. And Mary. He was bland and the acting was not fantastic, but this is a high school prod, and for what it's worth he's not bad. Gethsemane was solid enough considering everything. The crucifixion surprisingly hit, good crying there. ??/10 since I don't think it would be fair to rank him against all those adult professional performers.

Jack Hopewell - 50th Anniversary North America tour

The only Jesus that made me cry while watching. He suffers real good (and looks very pretty while doing so). He's just so- so... I just wanted to wrap him up in a soft blanket and give him a kiss on the forehead and feed him soup. Tbh I think he's one of the best vocally too. His high note is my fav. Gethsemane in general is just great too. Love how much he's just some silly guy who then has to face the Horrors. He's just very cute :] 10/10

Jeangu Macrooy - 2024 Netherlands national tour

The most poor little meow meow Jesus ever. He's so pathetic it's great. Him smiling and being happy was also so cute. Really good vocals too, man killed those high notes. His gethsemane too... Jeangu Macrooy absolutely steels the show and it's fantastic and incredibly heartbreaking. Want to see his performance again so so badly. In the meantime everyone should check out a snippet of his performance 10/10

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 12: Fairy Tale Of New York

Part 1- Gram Mo Chroi

Summary: In the run up to the Festive Period, Katie presents the Publishing Company proposal to the Stark Industries board, and our favourite couple spend their first Christmas together in New York. New Year’s Eve is welcomed in with a bang at a Stark Industries Gala and Steve’s simply happy he has his girl by his side…even when there’s a little mishap in The Elevator

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: SMUT (NSFW!) So over 18s only please. And some teeth rotting fluff… and LANGUAGE

A/N: Once again thanks to @angrybirdcr for her GORGEOUS edit

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 11

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

December 2013

Steve loved his girl. He would die for her if he had to, without a second thought. But the one thing he dreaded above everything was the thought of shopping, not least as it was the middle of December. Frankly, when she was shopping for herself Katie was a nightmare. Not on purpose, she was just so indecisive about whatever she was looking for, insisting that things made her look too wide hipped, short, big assed, big chested (which he’d told her cheekily wasn’t the clothes fault she had good assets which had earned him a slap around the back of the head). It was ridiculous, she was ridiculous, and he had no idea why she was so insecure as frankly she was gorgeous and would stop a room if she walked in wearing a sack.

“You don’t need to come!” She chuckled at him, shoving on her jacket. “I know I’m a pain in the ass and it’ll take me ages, plus it will be busy as it’s nearly Christmas.” “You sure?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, dropping her arms round his shoulders from behind the sofa, her hands coming to rest on his chest. “I just need a break from that damned proposal and to be honest, I only make you come so you can carry my bags.” “Nice to see I have my uses” He snorted sarcastically, rolling his head round so he could catch her lips.

“Well it makes me feel special.” She shrugged as she straightened up.

And damned it, after she’d said that, how could he not go?

“You know what, its fine. I’ll come. Give me a second.” He gave a slight sigh or resignation, and when he glanced at her he noticed her turn around with a smirk on her face and he knew then he’d been played, well and truly.

“You’re so full of shit.” He shook his head as she laughed whilst he went to retrieve his boots.

Two hours later he was beginning to regret his utter lack of ability to resist her charms. She was still flapping about her New Year’s Eve outfit for the Stark Industries Ball, worse than she normally did Steve noted. Six dresses she had tried on. Six, and she hated every one. Deciding enough was enough, instead of letting her walk into the next shop he’d tugged her hand, his strength easily keeping her from following her intended path and pulled her up the escalator to the fancy, pretentious champagne bar that was placed on the floor overlooking the lower floors of the City Centre mall.

“Why can’t I find anything that looks good?” She muttered as he slid a glass of Bollinger over to her, handing his card to the bar tender.

“Katie, stop it.” He looked at her where she was perched next to him at the bar. “All of them looked great.” “You’d say that no matter what.” She looked at him, and she couldn’t help but smile at the affection on his face.

“Because it’s true.” He smirked taking a pull of his beer “But if you want my opinion the red one was my favourite.” And it was. It was a scarlet colour, straight cut satin number, which clung to every delectable curve of her body, flashing a peep of leg through the thigh high split on the right hand side, not to mention the neckline and back. It was a halter-neck with a cowl at the front giving a subtle flash of cleavage and left her upper back was bare. It was demure enough to keep most of what was underneath it to the imagination, yet also flashed enough skin to make him feel slightly warm every time he looked at her. When he’d seen her walk out of the changing room it, it had almost made his mouth water, and it had definitely made his trousers feel tighter

“The Galliano one?”

“If that was the red one then yeah.” He laughed. “Come on, Doll, like I’m gonna know that!”

She grinned as he looked up and thanked the bar tender, signing his name on the check with a flourish. He didn’t even look at how ludicrously expensive the champagne and his fancy European lager was. He didn’t care, he earned enough from SHIELD to treat his girl every once in a while. In fact, as he watched her lost in thoughts, he decided then he wanted to buy her the dress too.

“Let me buy it for you.” He said softly.

“What?” She frowned “Don’t be stupid, not like I can’t afford it.” “That isn’t the point.” He sighed, rolling his eyes at her stubbornness. “I’d like to.” She eyed him for a moment before she smiled and reached out to gently brush his cheek with her hand “Okay. Thank you.” Well that had been easier than he had anticipated. Normally she argued like hell about paying for things, be it takeout, food, meals, dates. Instead, she leaned over to give him a soft peck on the lips and he smiled back. But then another frown creased her brow and she was back to brooding again.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” He asked, his hand landing on her knee.

Katie looked up at him, before she sighed. “I’m nervous.” “About the pitch?”

She nodded. And she was. She had been working on the Presentation and Business Plan for the Publishers since Thanksgiving. The Business Plan had been submitted to the board two days ago, and she was due to give the Presentation tomorrow morning. She had hoped that shopping for a new power suit and a dress for New Year’s would distract her for a few hours. It hadn’t.

“Doll, you’ve been working on it for weeks. Pepper says it’s great, even Tony didn’t find anything to pick holes in.”

“I just, well I want everyone to vote on it because it’s a good idea, not just because of who I am, you know?” “And they will. Honestly, you’re over thinking and over worrying. You’re going to smash it.”

He watched as a small smile tugged at her lips “You and your sudden obsession with street lingo.”

“What?” He frowned, mock annoyance on his face “Can’t Captain America be down with the kids?” “Okay, I never want to hear you say that, ever again.” she chuckled and he grinned. “Oh, but speaking of Kids…are you gonna make the Foundation Party?”

Steve took a deep breath. The Stark Foundation apparently hosted a yearly Christmas Party at the tower for local children who were either ill or in the care system. Last year’s hadn’t gone ahead on account of Tony’s near mental breakdown-slash-terrorist problem but this year they were full steam ahead. Tony would be there in his Iron Man get up, Katie as well (she loved everything about the party) and she’d asked Steve if he would mind coming along. And he didn’t mind per-se, it was just the idea of 50 kids running around that invited utter chaos.

“I’m gonna try, Sweetheart. As long as there’s no missions that go off I’ll be there.”

“Well don’t worry if you can’t” she said, smiling “We’re not telling the kids you are anyway, so if you turn up it will be like Santa himself has arrived. Only in a different suit. And with a shield not a sack.”

Steve let out a chortle before he dropped a kiss to her head “Ok Cinderella, let’s go get your dress then we can go home, eat junk and watch trash.”

“You know how to spoil a lady.” Katie smirked, and Steve flashed her a grin, not least because he knew it was her favourite thing to do in the world.

***** Katie took a deep breath as she sat in Pepper’s office. She’d landed in New York little over an hour ago and was now nervous as hell. Really nervous. Steve had assured her she would be fine as he had dropped her at the airfield to catch the jet over. He had assured her she would be fine when he kissed her goodbye. He had assured her she would be fine when she landed and received his text message. And all that amounted to was the fact she now thought Steve was an optimistic fool because she was not fine. She was shitting herself.

“You ready?” Pepper asked as she walked into her office, effortlessly business-like but graceful as always.

“No.” Katie said honestly, looking up from where she had been sat reading over her cue cards again.

“Well, we’re about to start.” she smiled “I put you on first so you can concentrate on the rest of the board meeting once you’ve pitched.” Katie nodded and stood up, smoothing down her pencil skirt. “Ok, let’s get it over with.” She followed Pepper down to the Boardroom and stepped inside where one of the Interns was setting up the screen to the right. She smiled at the other members of the Board, all who she knew by name and took a seat to the right of Tony who held the head of the table, Pepper sitting opposite her to his left.

“You got this Kiddo.” Tony leaned over to whisper in her ear before he sat up “Alright Ladies and Gents, the last Board meeting of 2013…”

Katie listened as Tony spoke and then Pepper outlined the agenda and then way too fast she was being invited to speak. She stood up, cleared her throat, looked at the Presentation, to her cards and then froze before she smiled gently.

“You know what…” She said, looking round “I had a huge, posh presentation prepared but I know you’ve read all the statistics and the numbers” she took a deep breath and tossed her cue cards down on the table “So I’m gonna speak from my heart and share my vision…or in Tony’s words, I’m winging it….” Tony leaned back in his chair and watched as his sister held the room, occasionally glancing at Pepper who was smiling proudly. Katie spoke articulately, clearly but most of all passionately. He could tell that most of the board members were with her, the only one that was going to be an ass-hat about it was Jeremy Saul, their Finance Director. He had been the only one that had questioned the viability of Katie’s desire to go for un-published, un-known authors. Her proposal and vision wasn’t about making as much profit as possible, it was about encouraging talent.

“I just have one question…” Jeremy leaned back in his chair and Tony sat up, stroking his beard as he looked at the man who was staring up at his sister. Katie turned her gaze to him.

“By all means, please Mr Saul.”

Arse-Saul more like… “I’ve read the business plan. You don’t intend to turn a profit for the first year…” He continued, an annoyingly smug look on his face. “And even after that you don’t seem to be focussed on any kind of margins or return on sales whatsoever.” “That’s correct.” Katie nodded.

“Well, forgive me for asking but what benefit will this bring to Stark Industries from a money perspective?” Katie took a deep breath, and glanced at Tony who had arched his eyebrow. She could tell he was thinking the same thing as her - ‘Dickhead’.

“The same benefit the Stark Relief Fund brings. The same benefit the Stark Foundation brings.” Katie replied, taking a deep breath “I’m not going to lie, my vision isn’t about profiteering. It’s about giving a springboard to those Authors who, like JK Rowling have had every door so far slammed in their faces.” she looked around the room remembering Peppers’ advice- Enthuse, engage, engross. “Granted, in the future it would be nice to have a decent turn over, and I don’t want to run at a loss. I’m a firm believer I can make it breakeven in the first two years as the numbers show, and the remaining three on the five year plan show a return on sales of just over five percent.”

“That isn’t a huge amount.” Saul looked at Katie and she nodded.

“You’re right, it isn’t. But you know as well as I do that Stark Industries turns over a ludicrous amount of money every year so it doesn’t need another section which turns over profits in excess of thirty percent. That isn’t my vision here, and that’s not what setting up Stark Independent Publishing is about.”

Saul nodded and scribbled down something on his note pad and looked to Pepper who was leading the meeting to show he had no more questions.

Katie took a deep breath, thanked everyone for their time and sat down.

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Pepper said, glancing around the room “Grab a coffee, back here in ten minutes for the Contract Status review.” she shot Katie a large smile as she stood up and walked out of the large Oak doors.

“Kiddo.” Tony leaned over as the various board members started to move about and chatter amongst themselves “You crushed it.”

Katie smiled at her brother as he squeezed her shoulder before standing up and shrugging on his jacket.

“Think that calls for a drink…hey, Pepper, can we…”

His voice trailed off as the boardroom door shut, leaving Katie alone. Leaning back in her chair she allowed herself a smile. That hadn’t gone too bad after all.

*****

Steve looked over to where his phone was placed on the bench by the side of the gym for what felt like the one hundredth time since midday. The meeting should be over by now.

“Expecting a call?” Natasha drawled as she sent a right hook his way which he dodged.

“It’s Katie’s pitch today.” He jabbed back with a forearm throw which Natasha easily twirled under. “I thought it would be done by now.” In all honesty he wasn’t nervous. He knew she’d got this, the passion and the detail she’d put into it made it impossible for her not to. He’d told her as much when she’d zipped up that delectable grey pencil skirt over dark black tights and shrugged on a silky black blouse that morning after her shower. He’d told her as much when he’d kissed her goodbye at the air field.

But he still wanted to know she was okay.

“Oh, the Publishing thing?” Nat asked and Steve nodded as they circled on another. “She’s a Stark, what she gotta pitch for?”

“There’s an entire board.” Steve said. “She can’t vote on it as it’s a conflict of interest. So even if Tony votes, it isn’t enough to hold a true majority. She needs them both onside.” “Huh.” Nat said, “No wonder you’re distracted.” “I’m not…” he began but in a swoop Natasha had his legs from under him, knee pressed against his throat, a shit eating grin spread across her face as he rolled his eyes.

“Wanna finish that sentence?” She smirked.

He took a deep breath as she stood up and then his phone began to ring. He effortlessly rolled out of Natasha’s light hold and crossed the room to pick it up.

“Hey, Doll.” he said, smiling. “How did it go?” “Well…” Katie began to talk, and Steve had to strain to hear her voice over the noise in the background, noise that sounded like a bar. “It could have gone worse…” “But it couldn’t have gone much better either Spangles…” Tony added from the back ground “She was fucking amazing.” “Told you.” Steve grinned, giving Natasha the thumbs up.

“Tony’s being premature. We won’t know if they’re going to agree until the end of the year but he insisted we come out for drinks anyway.”

“Pssht” Tony said in the background. “It’s nearly Christmas, can’t I treat my little sister to an afternoon on the Pier…hey, yeah can I get a…”

Steve smiled as the noise started to die down a little, Katie having moved to find a quieter spot.

“So it went well?” “Yeah. Was pointless me spending so much time on my presentation though.” she laughed “I didn’t use it in the end, went for the tried and tested Stark format of winging it.”

Steve let out a chuckle and looked back at Natasha who was watching him, an odd smirk on her face “I’m pleased it went well honey but I gotta go. I gotta finish this sparring session then I have one of those damned videos to film…” “What is it today?” Katie asked, and he could her the grin in her voice as she dropped it to mimick his own “’So, you had your first wet dream?’”

“Punk.” he shot immediately and she let out a laugh.

“Jerk”

****

“Okay, so, we all set?” Tony said, stepping forward and examining his repulsor gauntlets.

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” Katie straightened the Nova Star shaped buckle on her utility belt.

“Let’s just stick to the plan.” Steve looked to Katie on his right, then Tony on his left before focusing on the door in front “One group each. No distractions.”

The siblings nodded and Steve stepped forward, opening the large door. They were instantly hit with a barrage of noise as forty-five kids swamped the three Avengers. But it was a small, olive-skinned, ebony haired girl that reached Katie first, and she bent down beaming.

“Emmy!” Katie pulled the small girl into a hug “Wow, you’ve gotten so big!”

“I’m six now.” Emmy said proudly, flashing a grin. Her front tooth was missing.

“No.” Katie shook her head. “Uh-uh, no way.” “I am.”

“You’re catching me up!”

Emmy let out a giggle and Katie stood up, glancing over at where Tony and Steve were surrounded by little people, all of them bouncing up and down. Emmy, however, hung back slightly as the other children all pushed forward to hug or see Iron Man or Captain America, and she gripped Katie’s leg tighter.

“You okay?” Katie glanced down at the little girl who clung to her leg as she nodded.

“I want to meet Captain America.” She said, shyly. “Everyone says he’s your boyfriend. Is that true?” “It is.” Katie nodded.

“So you kiss him?”

“I do.” Katie grinned as Emmy made a gagging noise. With a chuckle she gently ruffled the girl’s hair. “Come on, I’ll take you to say hi.” Emmy took Katie’s hand and they crossed the room to where the crowd had now dispersed, the kids being shepherded into the various groups for the annual tour round the tower, which was basically one huge big supervised treasure hunt where each of them came back holding the latest games console or tablet depending on their age.

“Captain?” Katie called and Steve frowned, turning round, it had been a while since she had called him that, well outside of the bedroom anyway. As he looked at her, the tell-tale flush spread up her neck into her face and he knew she’d had the same thought. Ignoring the heat in his own cheeks he looked at her and watched as she gently moved her gloved hand to the back of the dark haired girl’s head, as the kid’s hand curled round Katie’s. Her large, brown eyes glanced up at Steve shyly. “There’s someone here that wants to meet you.”

Steve smiled, his head devoid of his helmet, and he crouched down in front of the small girl as Katie did the same, dropping to her level. “Hi.” He greeted her.

“Hi…” She replied softly “My name’s Emily.” “Emily, that’s a real pretty name, little Miss.” Steve smiled at her

“My friends call me Emmy.”

“Can I call you Emmy?” Steve asked.

The small girl seemed to ponder for a second before she looked at Katie then back to Steve “Katie calls me Emmy. And as you’re her boyfriend I suppose that would be okay.” Steve looked at Katie who was biting her lip to stop herself from laughing and he nodded at the small girl, a smile crossing his face “Well how’s about you call me Steve then, but we keep it to ourselves. Only you and the grown-ups can call me that today.”

“Mr Stark calls you Spangles.” Emmy said, frowning.

“Yeah, he said grown-ups.” Katie smiled “Tony is not a grown up.” Emmy let out a giggle “You’re silly, Katie.” “She is.” Steve nodded and Katie stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes causing the small girl to laugh even harder.

“Emmy!” One of the attendees from the home called and beckoned her over “Come on or you’ll miss the treasure hunt.”

Emmy threw her arms round Steve and he momentarily paused before he gave her a hug before she ran off to join her peers.

“She’s cute…” He watched her go before he looked to Katie as they both stood up.

“Yeah I know you’re not supposed to have favourites but…” Katie sighed “I met her when she was eighteen months old. She’s adorable.” “What’s her story?”

“Her mom died when she was thee months old.” Katie sighed, watching as the kids were organised into a line “There were complications at birth that she never recovered from. Her dad then killed himself a few weeks later. She had no other family who were willing to take her in so she’s been in a home ever since.”

“That’s awful.” Steve frowned.

“Makes me realise just how lucky I was that Tony stepped up and became my guardian after mom and dad died.” Katie glanced at the young girl, the softness in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Steve as she spoke again “You know, every year I pray she doesn’t show up here. Not because I don’t want to see her but because it means she’s found a home and a family.”

Steve smiled gently, looping an arm around her shoulders, the pair of them watching as Tony joined the front of one of the three lines the kids had been organised in and was looking at them all waving his hands.

“You want kids?” Katie asked, looking up at Steve. He took a deep breath and blew it out through his nose “Shit, sorry.” she continued, shaking her head and rubbing her temple. “That’s a bit forward, I didn’t mean…” “I know.” Steve shook his head, understanding. “And yeah, I did, before I joined the army. All I wanted was a family, stability, to hold down a good job. Now, well, things went a bit crazy didn’t they?” “Tell me about it.” Katie chuckled.

“What, errr, what about you?” Steve asked, rubbing at his neck a little awkwardly.

“Eventually, maybe.” She shrugged. Steve glanced down at her, a soft look on his face, but he was distracted as Emmy had returned and she was tugging on the dark material of his Uniform trousers.

“Can you be leader of our group?” She looked up at Steve.

“Woah, what about me Emmy?” Katie playfully frowned, her hands on her hips.

Emmy shot her a grin “You were the leader of my group for the last two years…” “Wow.” Katie smiled “You’re replacing me. Fine, I’m not offended. At all.”

Emmy laughed and Steve’s mouth curled upwards before he looked down at Emmy and nodded. “Alright Ma’am.” He saluted, as Emmy laughed and then slipped her hand into his. “Lead the way.” Katie watched them leave, convinced his super hearing would have just picked up the noise of her ovaries exploding.

*****

Forty Five kids came to the tower and forty five left. No one died, and Steve only had to throw his shield once for a demonstration. All in all the Stark Foundation Christmas Party 2013 was a roaring success.

The residents of the tower spent the next few days they had before Christmas lazing around, watching old Christmas films as Katie introduced Steve to her favourite one, ‘The Muppet Christmas Carol’. They decorated a tree in her apartment, headed through the streets of New York in the dark to see all the various Christmas lights, wrapped presents, spent evenings drinking hot chocolate laced with liquor and before they both knew what had happened, it was Christmas Eve and to Katie’s utter delight (and Tony’s it would seem, as JARVIS informed them dryly that Mr Stark was demanding that they go outside to build snowmen) it was snowing again to top up the already substantial covering on the ground.

Steve hated being cold, a consequence of spending seventy years frozen but the childish excitement written all over Katie’s face was enough to make him brave the snow, and so, at half past two in the afternoon he was stood in Central Park, along with Katie, Pepper and Tony, building snowmen-which Steve was amazingly adept at, something that came as a surprise to Pepper and Tony, but not to Katie considering his artistic nature. Bruce called Tony half way through following the conclusion of whatever seminar he had been in and an hour or so later joined them, and was immediately told to judge the snowmen contest. He declared Steve the winner causing Tony and Katie to pelt the mild mannered Scientist with snowballs until his grown up façade slipped and he joined in, catching Tony with a perfectly placed lump of snow right between the eyes.

The light began to draw in and after purchasing a hot dog each from one of the stands the sounds of carols drifted to their ears so the five of them wandered towards the music. They found a group of singers not far from the Alice In Wonderland statue, each holding lanterns and sheets of music. They looked at one another and joined the crowd as they group began to sing Silent Night. Steve slipped his arms around Katie from behind, pulling her to his bulky, coated frame and she leaned back happily into his embrace. His cold nose brushed against her cheek near her ear as he stooped to drop a kiss there, causing Katie to laugh out loud as he continued to press his cold face against her neck.

“I haven’t seen a carol service since I was a boy.” He said softly.

She turned her head to look at him, as he looked back, was grinning like a school boy as the snow began to fall again, because, whilst he might hate being cold, he didn’t hate any time spent with his best girl.

She placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Taking you back?”

“A little…” He smiled before she turned back to the band, as his nose nuzzled at her ear “Love you… gram mo chroi…”

The words phonetically registered in her brain, graw miu cree the Irish brogue he had spoken made her shiver.

“Yeah that sounds really sexy and I have no idea what you just said.” She tilted her head back to face him.

“You don’t speak Gaelic?” He teased.

“Italian, German, Spanish and French…but no Gaelic.” She smirked.

“Smart ass…” He rolled his eyes before chuckling slightly, his eyes leaving hers to focus on the singers again. “So what does it mean?” She pressed.

“It means love of my heart, of my life.” “Smooth Rogers.” She grinned, catching his lips again.

The singers finished to a round of applause from the surrounding crowd, including wolf whistles from Tony, and the five of them set off back to the Tower, the streetlights bouncing off the white of the snow. Walking the twenty or so minutes back they all stopped to enjoy hot chocolates laced with lashings of brandy at a small Cafe on the corner of Park and 5th, along with roast chestnuts and mince pies. Katie smiled, remarking that it was about as clichéd a Christmas Eve you could get. And she absolutely loved it.

Once back at the tower they all said goodnight and headed to their respective floors and apartments. Once Steve and Katie had shed their various outer layers of winter clothing, Katie instructed Jarvis to light the fire before she headed off into the bedroom before walking back out and across the hall to the larger bathroom where Steve heard her turn on the tap to the tub.

“You having a bath?” He called dropping onto the sofa.

“Warming up.” She called back, grinning as she dropped a Christmas Pudding shaped bath-bomb into the tub, watching as it started to fizz, the gorgeous smells of cinnamon hitting her nostrils. Biting her lip she walked to the door of the bathroom and leaned against it calling down the hall. “Wanna join me?”

Steve heard her, and didn’t need asking twice.

He walked into the bathroom to see her drop her robe to the floor, flashing him a view of her bare back, ass, legs before she stepped into the obscenely large tub and he shed his clothes in about five seconds flat, climbing in behind her. She leaned back against him, his arms coming to rest naturally on the sides of the large tub.

“Why…” he began, looking at his skin, “is there glitter all over my arm?” “I used a bath bomb”

“A what?”

“Things you drop in the water alongside or instead of bubble bath and they smell nice. I’ll show you another day.” Katie explained, closing her eyes and leaning back into the warmth of the water, her head laying on his chest, the fingers of her right hand delicately rubbing across his knuckles.

They were silent for a while, Steve’s head lolling against the back of the tub, utterly contented to stay there until the water went cold, when Katie spoke.

"Say it again.” She whispered softly, wanting to hear the words he’d said before.

He quirked a crooked smile. “Say what?”

She chuckled and bit at the corner of her bottom lip and tilted her head round so she could look at him. “The thing you said earlier… say it again.”

He didn’t’ say a word, instead he dropped his head to kiss her neck, lips laying soft kisses along her shoulders. Slowly, his right hand moved from its spot on the tub to stroking her hip, down the outside of her thigh, up again and then across to her abdomen. The subtle brush of his fingertips on her sensitive flesh set off chills of a very different kind to the one’s Katie had been feeling all afternoon in the snow and she let her eyelids fall shut, a small sigh escaping her lips as his mouth trailed a line from her right shoulder across to her left.

"Say it again.” She breathed out but still Steve said nothing. Instead, he moved his hand down her abdomen going lower and lower until he slowly began to tease her.

Katie shuddered, her breath caught again as her head fell backwards. “Say it…” she tried again, the words coming out as a desperate choked plea.

His grinning face pressed to her neck and shoulder as he nipped gently. “Sorry, I’m an old man. I forget what I say sometimes.”

He knew exactly what she was after and Katie knew he did, he was just being a tease and it was driving her wild. So she decided to deploy the big guns. Her hand drifted down to find his, wrapping tightly around his wrist, stilling his touch and she turned to face him, gently straddling him, sitting on his thighs and sending a slosh of water over the side of the tub onto the tiled floor.

"You forgot that I’m the love of your life?” She pouted softly, eyes locking onto his.

“Doll,” Steve shook his head, dropping his forehead to hers. “No one could ever make me forget that. Ever.”

Bingo. Katie felt the smile cross her face as she leaned in to kiss him as her hand reached down into the water and wrapped around his hardening cock causing him to grunt at little as she squeezed her palm around him.

“Then say it.” She demanded, her hand slowly sliding up his shaft and Steve looked at her, his eyes blown with lust.

“You’re such a fucking brat.” He reached up and tangled one hand into her hair, pulling her face down to his, kissing her hard and he muttered against her mouth, “Gram mo Chroi…”

“Fuck, I love you,” Katie huffed out into his open mouth as his hands went down to her waist and he gently pulled her forwards, positioning her before, without warning, he thrust upwards and she moaned, pushing down onto his lap, water lapping around them as he filled her. “I love you, more than anything.” Katie nipped at his lip and coiled her fingers into his hair, drawing a hiss from his mouth as she moved again, rocking her hips, grinding down on him.

“I love you too.” His ragged breaths snagged on the words as he pressed up into her harder, then harder again, his hands straying to her back, fingers sliding up and down her spine as he pulled her closer to him, kissing her hard before turning his lips to her neck then her chest, the trails of water and soap suds trickled down from between her cleavage to her navel. It made him groan as he looked at her gently rocking on top of him as bucked his hips upwards, meeting her thrust for thrust.

He sat up a little making her purr as he hit her even deeper, as he pulled her close, chest pressed to chest as he kissed her, hands snaking up into the back of her hair which was piled messily on top of her head. Katie moaned into his mouth as he thrust upwards again, and again as she pushed down, rotating her hips against him. It was slow, deep, loving, the sounds of sloshing water and gentle moans and groans filled the large bathroom as they both clung to one another, as close as they possibly could be. Eventually Katie felt the knot in her stomach beginning to unravel and she threw her head back in a soft cry, Steve’s name tumbling from her lips, before she fell forward, burying her head into the crook of his shoulder and neck as she caught her breath. A few more thrusts and Steve was right behind her, his body sliding down into the tub, head resting against the back, his girl tightly clutched to his chest.

Steve’s hands ran up and down her back as Katie gave a low hum of contentment before pulling back, smoothing his hair back with her hands and smiling softly at him, before she kissed him gently.

“You know,” Steve said gently as she pressed her forehead against his. “This is certainly an improvement on Christmas Eve last year.”

Katie chuckled slightly and closed her eyes. "It’s been the best one I’ve ever had.”

*****

Christmas Morning was one of the few times Katie could remember having woken before Steve. But she was always up at the crack of dawn on Christmas Morning and had been since she was a child. Steve’s arms were wrapped around her, one leg tossed over hers doing his best koala impression as always, head buried into the back of her neck. She shifted, rolling over to face him, causing his grip to loosen slightly and simply watched him, taking in how much younger he looked with his face relaxed and how comfortable and peaceful he was in sleep. She leaned over to gently place a kiss on his cheek just underneath where those ridiculously long eyelashes rested, before she rose, swapping Steve’s T-shirt for a long sleeved pair of Christmas pyjamas adorned with little snowmen and Christmas trees and headed into the living area.

The tree was already lit (God bless Jarvis) as was the garland over the fire place and the lights in the kitchen. Turning on the radio low, she poured some ground Christmas Roast into the machine and set about making pancake batter whilst popping off a cork on a bottle of Krug to use for Mimosas, the breakfast drink of champions

Steve heard her singing. Cracking an eye open he glanced at the clock, it wasn’t even gone Eight yet. He took a moment to stretch before he got out of bed, went to use the bathroom and came out, throwing on a pair of plaid sleep pants over his boxers before he made his way to the kitchen. He stopped dead when he saw her dancing around and had to stifle his laugh as he slipped his arms around her from behind, making her jump slightly.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” He gruffed, his voice still thick with sleep as she tilted her head round to catch the kiss he was offering.

“Merry Christmas, Soldier.”

“What are you wearing?” He arched an eyebrow and Katie grined. “It’s the rules…” She turned to look at him. “On Christmas Day, in the Stark house, we all wear Christmas pyjamas and no one gets dressed until well after lunchtime and then we wear Christmas sweaters, eat dinner, lounge around and do absolutely nothing bar stuffing our faces, drinking and watching movies.”

“I don’t have any Christmas Pyjamas…or a sweater.” Steve frowned. “Yeah you do.” Katie informed, putting down the bowl of batter she had been whisking and grabbing his hand. She tugged him back down the hall and into the bedroom, Steve cursing her silently in his brain for as usual thinking of everything. She headed into the large walk in wardrobe and tossed him a Bloomingdale’s carrier bag. He arched an eyebrow as he reached inside pulling out first the sweater, and giving a loud groan as he examined the large reindeer on the front.

“Its nose lights up.” Katie grinned as she pressed it. At that he let out a snort and shook his head.

“I’m not wearing this.”

“Hey I don’t make the rules.”

“I never was one for rules.” He muttered, now examining the Pyjamas that were green with little red Santa Clauses all over them.

“Bullshit!” Katie laughed and he looked at her, as she fake saluted “Captain America reporting for duty, Sir!”

“Punk.” He shook his head as his lips quirked upwards and he waved the clothes he was holding at her. “They’re awful.”

“They’re supposed to be, that’s the point. Don’t be a Grinch…” “I have no idea what that is.”

“Ok, a Scrooge then…” “I am not dressing like an idiot.” Katie opened her mouth to make a joke about stars, stripes and spandex but he cut her off instantly, spotting the look on her face. Holding up his hand he shook his head. “Just don’t.”

After some cajoling, Katie managed to convince Steve to wear the Pyjamas for the morning. Stockings were opened, Bucks Fizz and Coffee was drunk as they exchanged gifts sitting cross legged on the floor by the fire. But Steve had one last gift for her that he hadn’t wrapped as it wasn’t a Christmas gift really, it was something he’d wanted to give her for a while now but he finally felt the time was right. He took the opportunity to retrieve it from his bag whilst she was dressing after they had eaten breakfast, grabbing the small item in his hand and crossing the room so he was stood in front of her.

“There’s something else I wanted to give you” He spoke, but as he did he found himself unable to stop his eyes from straying down the top half of her body which was clad in nothing but a bra as she pulled on the large sweater. "Huh?” Her voice was muffled as her head emerged from the hole in the sweater and she noticed him watching her. She smirked, sticking her arms through the garment. “You already did that last night. Several times remember?” “I don’t mean that.” He rolled his eyes as she started laughing before he crossed the room and stood in front of her. Katie watched as he was turning a small, circular leather box of some kind in his hand. “I found this when we were going through my stuff for the museum” he said, gently handing it to her. “I want you to have it.”

She looked down at the worn leather of the dark brown box, before pressing the small button which released the catch on the worn, dark brown leather and she carefully opened the lid. Her eyes widened as she glanced down at the delicate ring inside. The stone was a small, tear drop shaped emerald set into a yellow gold band with 3 small diamonds sat underneath the larger part of the teardrop stone. “It was my mom’s” Steve offered by explanation as she looked up at him, her eyes shining “Dad bought it for her before they left Limerick for New York, something to remind her of home.” “The Emerald Isle…” Katie smiled gently as she looked at the ring, her chest filling with warmth. “It probably isn’t worth much and I know you don’t really wear yellow gold but I was reading up that you could get it coated…” “Steve…” She shook her head as she looked up at him. “I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s beautiful.” And it was. All the more so because it had belonged to his mother. A woman she knew so much about. A woman who raised the wonderful man stood in front of her. A woman she wished with all her heard she could have met.

“Are you sure you want me to have it?” She blurted out and Steve nodded. “She gave me that specifically to pass to my someone special.” He trailed off as Katie smiled softly, taking the ring out of the box and slipping it onto the ring finger of her right hand. It was a tad loose but nothing that was too drastic to stop her wearing it for the time being. “Thank you.” Her voice cracked slightly as she looked up into his eyes, those baby blues she knew so well were misting over. “And for the record, regardless of what it’s worth or not worth, it means the world to me that you want me to have it. It’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever had”. She gently cupped his cheek in her hand before she leaned up and captured his lips in a soft kiss. “I love you.” She whispered gently as his nose rubbed against hers, their foreheads coming to a rest against one another. “Love you too.” He smiled, before giving her another quick kiss. “Enough to wear the sweater?” She pulled back, her arms snaking round his neck as his hands dropped to her waist. He glanced at the one she was wearing which made her look like a giant Christmas tree and let out a long groan. He really didn’t want to wear the hideous Christmas sweater, but as he looked at her she made those eyes, those goddamned eyes that could get him to do whatever she wanted.

He just couldn’t say no to her. He was whipped, big time. And he knew it. "Fine I’ll wear the sweater."

**** Chapter 12 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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misslilli · 3 years

Text

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | AO3

Chapter 14 - Last Chance For Spotting A Rainbow

If you know you know ;)

[ FM ]

The second Friday in school marks the end of the grace period for the first-grade parents where they can accompany their kids all the way to the classroom. From now on, we wait for them in front of the school with the other parents.

It also ends the grace period where I can “casually” bump into Miss Scully in front of her classroom and I’m a little disappointed, to say the least.

This morning though, I get lucky because when we enter the school, we run into her on the way from the teacher’s lounge to the classroom, a stack of books in her arms and a cup of coffee perched perilously on top of them.

Felix is ecstatic. “Good morning, Miss Scully!,” he yells from across the front hall and tugs me towards her.

She stops and waits for us, her coffee cup wobbling. “Good morning, Felix! Mr. Mulder!”

“Good morning! Do you need help with that?” I gesture towards her books but the shakes her head no.

“No, no, I’m fine, thanks. So Felix, you got any big plans for this weekend?” They’re walking in front of me and I’m proud of myself that I steal a glance at her ass only once. Okay and one at her legs. ‘Those heels, oh boy. Another pair to add to my inappropriate fantasies, in most of which she always wears heels. And nothing else.’

“Yeah, we’re going to the farmer’s market tomorrow! Have you ever been there Miss Scully?” Felix swigs his schoolbag along, his gaze never leaving her.

“Actually, me and my friends go there every Saturday, so maybe we’ll run into you guys there!” I somehow get the feeling that if Felix gets any say in this, we’ll be spending the whole day there until we run into her.

When we reach the classrooms, she finally lets me help her out. “Could you get my keys please? They’re in my back pocket. Just pull on the lanyard.” ‘Oh Lord. They’re in the freaking back pocket of her jeans. Of course they are. I just can’t seem to catch a break.’

Biting back a dirty joke – which I’m 100% positive she wouldn’t appreciate – I do as told and tug on the lanyard, unlocking her classroom door and opening the door for her. I briefly wonder if I should just put the keys back where they were, but the thought alone almost gives me a heart attack, so instead, I loop the lanyard with her keys around her neck and she smiles thankfully.

“Thanks. Have a good weekend, Mulder boys!”

After school, I don’t see her again because they’re, as Felix informs me, in the gym already. But I’m treated to a story about her in recess in the car.

“So I was sitting on the teacher’s bench again today and Miss Scully was talking to Miss Anderson and you know how they’re kind of weird and only ever use the first letters of their names? Miss Anderson always calls her “D” and I’ve been wondering forever what it stands for.” Yes I do know, I had to get him the book of first names from our library’s top shelf. Also, a kid’s definition of forever will never cease to amaze me. It’s been a few days, tops. I wait for him to continue.

“… and then, Miss Anderson said it, dad! She said: ‘Dana, I’m not sure this is gonna work!’ Now I finally know! …Dana.”

I nod, but on the inside, I sincerely hope that he hasn’t made the obvious connection, that her name is almost eerily similar to his mother’s first name. Just one letter.

---------

[ DS ]

That night, we order Chinese takeout, none of us particularly interested in cooking and we gather around the kitchen table. Sarah passes out the chopsticks while Holly opens a bottle of Shiraz, our classes clinking together for a toast. “Two weeks down! So girls, how was your week? Any juicy stories?,” Sarah asks, looking around at us expectantly.

“Well… I could tell you about that really awful date I had this week with Mark the banker, on which he made a move 10 minutes into the conversation buuuut I get the feeling someone else might have more interesting stories.” Holly points her chopsticks at me and grins, waggling her eyebrows. My own chopsticks pause halfway to my mouth.

“Me? Why?” I ask innocently, stuffing a piece of spring roll into my mouth.

“Very funny! You wanna tell me why I saw a very handsome dad leave your classroom all smiley faced on Tuesday?” ‘Busted.’

“What?! Mr. Mulder? How did I miss this?” Sarah looks at the both of us incredulously.

“Because your classroom isn’t across from D’s and you didn’t happen to look out through the window to see Dopey McSmileypants leave! So D, spill it, and don’t leave anything out!” I shrug nonchalantly.

“I asked a mom to help with read-alouds but her kid was sick, so since Mr. Mulder happened to stand there, I asked him if he could do it. Of course, the kids were all over him with questions, who are you, what are you doing here, you know how curious they are. He was a big hit with them, though, they absolutely loved him.” ‘They’re not the only ones though’

“Bet they weren’t the only ones who loved him, huh?” Damn Sarah for reading my mind! I laugh uncomfortably, shifting in my seat, but I nod. It was really nice to have him in my classroom. To cover for the fact that I’m not telling them the whole story, I help myself to some Kung-Pao Chicken. Sarah catches on anyway, of course she does.

“Wow, that’s mighty nice of him, to take an hour out of his workday to help you out! But I get the feeling that there’s more to the story, what aren’t you telling us, D?”

“Well… after he left, the kids had even more questions, they practically fell over each other, why are your cheeks so red Miss Scully, is he my boyfriend, or is he my husband? And… I caught myself thinking ‘Ya, I wish!’ …” I trail off, a little embarrassed at my admission.

“Man this is some serious Romeo and Juliet shit that’s going on here, D. So we’ve established that you like him, we suspect that he likes you too, judging by the glazed over look on his face when you walk by and he thinks no-one is watching. What’s the hold-up then?”

“Please don’t tell me we’re still hung up on the people talk – good reputation bs!” If I had hoped that the conversation would not take this turn, Holly quickly extinguishes it.

“I don’t know, guys… it’s not complete bs though, you know how I hate when people gossip about me behind my back, and dating the new guy in town puts me in a spotlight that I’m not particularly comfortable being in. I guess what’s worse however is that I’m scared. Like, terrified, of putting my heart out there again after that 2 year on-again-off-again shitshow with Steve last year.”

“That narcissistic asshole…,” Holly mutters under her breath and the others nod, remembering when I had finally hit emotional rock-bottom last year, after I realized that he’d gaslighted me over and over again, resulting in me having a mental breakdown curled up on the cold bathroom floor.

“My anxiety has been badever since, it’s getting better with therapy, but still… I just know I’ll screw it up. I’m damaged goods.” Alex, who hasn’t said anything yet, listening intently, finally speaks up.

“That’s not true, D. You’re getting help and you know we’re always there for you.” – “Yeah, we’ll kick anybody’s ass who dares to hurt you!” – “Don’t interrupt me, S. If he’d ask you out on a date, do you think you’ll say yes?” I consider this for a moment.

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know anything about him except that he seems to be a great dad and that he believes in aliens…” Holly bursts out laughing at the last part.

“What? Aliens?” I tell them the story that took place with the PTA parents in front of the school and the others join Holly’s laughter and I’m grateful that the conversation has taken a lighter turn.

“That’s too funny... You know, he could really learn a thing or two from his son, he asked us to his and his dad’s birthday party today at recess! It was so sweet, guys, I can’t even… We’re all invited, by the way – I think it’s going to be quite the event!” Felix had come up to Sarah and me today, holding out an official invitation and one that he had made himself, just for us.

“Yay, a party, I love me a good party! So, are we going to go?” Holly looks at us questioningly. Sarah only scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“Are you kidding? Of course we’re going to go!”

#xf #the x files #xf fanfic #msr #felix felicis

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years

Text

Sunshine Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff, soft!Bucky, mentions of injury (no graphic descriptions), 3.6k words

Summary: You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish he wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

Two years ago you were supposed to enjoy a solo road trip after years of Avenging, but Bucky invited himself along. Now you’re forced back to New York, and your boyfriend is ready to surprise you once again.

A/N: Bucky’s POV. Sequel to I love my baby to death, but I suppose you could read it on its own. As always forgive any mistakes, English is my third language.

Had to repost this cause it didn’t show up in the tags, hopefully this time it will

“I swear Buck, if I see one more damn corn plant I’m losing it. I am this close” you say pinching your thumb and pointer finger real close “to a mental breakdown. I’m never eating corn again, mark my words. No corn flakes, no corn on the cobble, no nothing. I’m done.”

“We’re in Iowa, in the middle of the corn belt, I don’t know what you were expecting.” he replies, slightly amused by your little outburst and sour mood.

“Well, clearly not ending up on the set of Children of the corn.” you groan, getting back to sulking in the passenger’s seat, seething at the fields that are only a scapegoat to the real problem.

You’d been merrily skiing in Montana when his skis got somehow tangled with yours and he tumbled down on you, dragging you down the slope. Hadn’t you injured yourself, rolling in the snow like it only ever happens in cartoons would have been pretty comical.

“What?” you screech, almost jumping off the stretcher and grimacing in pain when your left foot hits the metal poles at the side. “No. It’s just pain, I’m sure it will go away, right? I mean I was an Avenger, I’ve suffered worse than a fall.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but knee surgery will be necessary, the MRI here shows you’ve torn your ACL and from the looks of it, your left knee was already damaged badly, numerous times at that, probably a result of your time on the field.”

“I can’t, I can’t just get surgery, we’re miles away from home and I-”

You’re almost sobbing and Bucky feels like shit because he’s the reason for all this and all he can do now is pat your back reassuringly.

“Given the extent of the damage, I’m afraid there’s no other option.”

“How long is the recovery time?” he asks, voice unsure.

“Well, it’s my knowledge she’s not an enhanced individual, so like any average human it will take anywhere from 6 to 9 months to recover fully. In the meantime, no more hikes or sports.”

Bucky inhales a sharp breath. Six to nine months. No more hikes. Surely you’ll have to go back to New York.

God, you are so going to break up with him.

Turns out you didn’t dump him in Montana, you didn’t abandon him in one of those auto stops along Interstate 90 in South Dakota, and you don’t seem to want to break up with him amidst the green fields of Iowa, but still, he knows he will drive through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It almost seems like a cruel twist of fate, driving the same route you did as friends two years ago, along Interstate 80 headed East instead of West, only this time he’s not hoping to be more than the annoying old man who invited himself on your trip; he’s your boyfriend now, but maybe not for long.

“You know, you really are dramatic.” you say in a teasing tone, “I’m not going to break up with you, stop thinking about that, it was an accident, ‘s not like you beat me.”

“I know, I’m just sorry because you’re in pain and it’s my fault and now we have to get back home but I know you wanted to stay more and I did too and if I didn’t-” he’s rambling, and your place your hand on his thigh and squeeze reassuringly, offering him one of those sweet smiles he dies for.

“Buck, it’s okay” you interrupt his word vomit “like I said a million times before, it was an accident, it’s going to be fine I promise. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise with my mood, I swear I’m just pissed at all this damn corn. We’re never going to a maze again, by the way.” That gets a laugh out of him, and he loves you even more because you’re always there to lift his spirits. “I’m dreading these next months, the surgery, physiotherapy and all, but I know you’re there for me, yes?”

He nods, teary eyed, and you continue, “And I can’t lie, it’s been a while, I’m kind of excited to see everyone again, I mean except for Sam of course,” you say, as if he didn’t “live rent free in your head”, like Sam himself put it, “Jesus that man, how many of our trips has he invited himself on? I’ve lost count. ‘Member when we found him waiting for us in Phoenix? Fuckin’ weirdo.”

You both chuckle at the memory of Sam in your motel room, waiting on your bed with crossed arms like a disappointed parent, pissed off because you hadn’t called in a week and he was worried sick that something may have happened to you, a deadly sniper, and him, the Winter fuckin’ Soldier. Truth is, Bucky was so excited about your new relationship that he rarely let you leave the bed when you were in your room, and when you did you were in no condition to Facetime anyone, with your smudged mascara and swollen lips.

“I’ve heard Clint will come visit us with Laura and the kids. Nathaniel must be so big now.” you add, your eyes glazed over as you think of the little boy who was named after your Natasha.

“God, Morgan is probably all grown up.” he muses, a tinge of sadness in his voice. You squeeze his thigh again. “And the spider kid too, he’s a grown man now.”

“That he is.” you chuckle, “But to me he’ll always be the boy in the red spanx who knocked us on our asses in Berlin.”

He smiles and shakes his head at the memory, and you both fall in a comfortable silence. Now that he’s not consumed by fear anymore, Bucky kind of agrees with you that all this green is, in fact, nauseating.

“You know what, no more popcorn either.”

“Deal.”

A year and something ago

Arizona

“Can you believe there’s a city in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences? We should totally go and visit just for the hell of it, sounds like the type of place Steve Rogers should have been born into.” you state with all the seriousness in the world, and he snorts because after all this time you still haven’t found it in yourself to stop mocking Steve’s righteousness.

You’re walking ahead of him and he’s so distracted by your tiny denim shorts that he, the master of stealth, almost trips over a boulder. You’re always pretty but tonight, illuminated by the orange sky of Arizona, you look like a dream. And you’re so happy, snapping photos at everything you see, that even if Bucky hates the desert and the heat makes him uncomfortable, he won’t tell you, because the look on your face makes it all worth it.

“Baby, look at this big boy here, he’s like 20 feet tall. Oh my god, he’s so cute and beefy, just like you.” you gush at one of the giant cactuses of Saguaro National Park.

He raises his eyebrows skeptically.

All he sees are green spiky motherfuckers that he’s accidentally hurt himself with more times that he’d like to admit in all those damn ‘hikes’ you like so much, but to you cactuses are the most beautiful sight in the word. He genuinely does not see the appeal, but he understands now how you feel when he talks about all his ‘nerd shit’, as you call it.

“I’m cuter.” he says frowning.

“Of course you are.”

For some reason you don’t sound convincing at all.

It’s only spring but here in Tucson the temperature is 85 degrees today and he’s sweating buckets underneath the long sleeved t-shirt he’s wearing to conceal his vibranium arm. He’s long past the time when he was forced to hide from authorities or the general public’s judgement, but still he doesn’t want to be recognized and attract attention. He doesn’t do well with crowds, and he doesn’t understand how you can be so calm and collected when people stare at you and ask for photographs while you’re minding your own business.

As soon as you get back to the motel you’re staying at he takes off his soaked shirt, not caring that the air conditioning is probably going to end his old ass.

“What the hell happened to you?” you ask, scowling as you analyze the skin around his prosthetic.

He shrugs. “It happens sometimes.”

“Why?”

“No idea.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ lie to me James.”

You only call him that when he’s in big trouble. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose: why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the damn time? “It’s nothing sweetheart, just sometimes the skin becomes flared when it’s too hot.”

“Nothing?” you shrill, throwing your hands around animatedly, “Nothing? Bucky your whole shoulder is super red and irritated, don’t act like it’s normal. We’ve been in the sun for hours, for days really, why didn’t you tell me anything? I would have driven us back here immediately. Does it hurt?”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to ruin your fun, you liked it so much there. And no, it only itches a little.”

Your eyes soften and you move to cup his face in your hands, looking at him with so much love that he feels himself melt away into a puddle, “Baby you don’t need to do that, you know I care more about you than anything else.”

“Even more than the cactuses?”

“Well, now you’re asking too much of me.”

He snorts and playfully hits your arm, then he falls back on the bed and drags you down with him. You stay cuddled like that for a while before you pull back to look into his eyes.

“I appreciate you doing this for me Buck, but you don’t ever need to sacrifice your own comfort for me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry. But you looked so happy.”

“Don’t be, and I’m always happy with you, I promise.”

“I’m always happy too.”

“We’re such saps. Gross. Anyways, guess where we’re going next?” you ask him cheerfully, scratching his scalp the way that makes him purr like a cat.

“The plan was New Mexico, Texas and Louisiana, right?” he frowns. You’d made plans together ages ago and you were so excited about visiting Texas of all places for God knows what reason. He’s predicted already that he won’t stand the suffocating, humid heat of that whole area. At least Arizona was dry as hell.

You on the other hand, everyday he’s become more aware of how much of a lizard you are, seeking the sun and walking around in the scorching heat not even breaking a sweat.

“Guess again baby boy, we’re going straight to Oregon. I mean, it's not Alaska but it’s not as hot as the desert here, right?

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to overheat?” you state like it’s obvious, rolling your eyes, “We’ll do New Mexico and the rest next fall, and now Oregon and Washington because it’s a little cooler there. So what do you say?” You ask with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Princess I appreciate you doing this for me, but I promise I’ll be fine. You don’t have to change plans for me, this is your road trip.”

“No you won’t Buck, you’re not doing good and I don’t ever want to see you suffer, you understand? By the time we get to Texas it will be summer and you won’t stand it, it’s better if we visit when it’s colder.”

He smiles softly. He knows he’d do the same for you. “Then Oregon it is.”

You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom to shower, “Oh, and baby?” you call out, peeking your head from behind the door, “This is your road trip too, never forget that.”

Oregon

“Why does Thor get to have places named after him and we don’t? We were Avengers too.”

“But are we norse gods?”

“I mean, not yet, but I definitely deserve some nature’s wonder, or at least a star, to be named after me.”

“I’ll call WMO and get them to name a hurricane after you, princess. It seems more fitting.”

“Asshole.”

You’d been camping somewhere in Oregon’s wilderness when he came up with the idea of visiting all of the State’s so called seven wonders, starting from Thor’s Well on the Coast and ending in Mount Hood near Portland. You took a thousand photos of each attraction and sent a video of the water seemingly draining inside the famous well to the God himself, who enthusiastically expressed his appreciation.

Bucky’s cherished every minute of it, from the hot springs of Crater Lake to the chillier temperatures at night that force you to snuggle closer to him to warm up.

You’re in Portland now, and you’re thoroughly enjoying it, but what’s new about that? You’re always so full of life, so genuinely excited about everything the world has to offer that he’d be worried if you weren’t having the time of your life as you usually are.

He likes the city too, which is saying a lot.

“Blueberries are the superior berry and that’s the hill I’m willing to die on.”

You’ve been eating your way through Portland for weeks, and you’ve been discussing pies for a solid thirty minutes now. It’s raining outside and you’re cooped up in a small pie shop, eating more than an average human can and receiving weird looks from the waitress as you tell her to ‘keep ‘em coming’.

“I’m sorry but you’re wrong princess,” he states with a stuffed mouth just for the sake of aggravating you to no end, “blackberries are just so much better.”

It works as you grimace in disgust, both at his statement and his manners.

He’s found out you are weirdly opinionated when it comes to pies: pecan pies are an abomination, pumpkin doesn’t belong in dessert, lemon pie and key lime pie are only acceptable if someone’s grandma is kindly offering them to you, rhubarb pie without strawberries is a threat to mankind and cherry and blueberry pies are the absolute best. Apple pie is too bland to even take the time to discuss it, although the taste is likeable enough.

He on the other hand likes anything pie and anything sweet. And anything that gets a rise out of you.

“Please Buck, this isn’t even a blackberry pie, it’s some sort of inbred experiment that turned out kinda right.”

He shushes you, barely holding back a laugh when he sees the waiter side eyeing you as you disrespect one of Oregon’s most famous dishes, “First of all, it’s called marionberry and it’s a type of blackberry. And second, keep it down unless you want us to be kicked out, you’re offending a whole state.”

“Sorry.” you shrug, “But blueberry tartness level is where I draw the line, anything more than that is unacceptable.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re still a child and haven’t developed adult taste buds yet baby.” He does love his senior citizen card a bit too much.

This earns him a kick under the table and a scowl. “Stop it, grandpa.” you groan.

He grins and digs in your slice of marionberry pie. You resume to people watching.

God, he loves Oregon. And he loves you.

He really is a sap.

Wyoming

Washington was nice enough. You’ve taken him bar crawling most nights, and all of them have ended with him giving you a piggyback ride, per your request, back to the hotel room you were staying at.

It takes 13 hours to drive from Seattle to Yellowstone and you’ve driven all the way. You refused to disclose the destination of the trip and he’s fallen asleep the last 3 hours in the car. He’d mentioned he wanted to see the geysers somewhere in Pennsylvania two years ago and you remembered and took him.

Bucky couldn’t be happier.

He’s still describing the constellations above you when you fall asleep, and he’s so absorbed by the sky that he doesn’t notice until your head falls on his shoulder and he hears your soft snores.

He picks you up bridal style and takes you back to the fancy tent he bought on a whim in Ohio after you both slept in the SUV and woke up with major back and neck pain. He smiles as he removes your makeup with a wipe and does your skincare just the way you taught him, and admires your relaxed state.

He grazes your pretty face with his vibranium fingers, something so unimaginable to him before he met you, as he never thought his arm could bring anything other than pain.

Back when he was a semi stable 100 year old man thrust in another fight yet again, he hadn’t realized the extent of his feelings for you, believing he was only attracted to your beauty and youth. He hadn’t seen the way your smile lights up a whole room, nor the way you listen, truly listen, to anyone who may have anything to tell you, without ever judging them. He hadn’t witness your kindness and patience, let alone experienced them on his own skin. He hadn’t been lucky enough to watch you feed bird seed to the ducks of every pond of the country, or try to rescue a cat from a rooftop and almost falling off to save it.

Then Sam told him you were leaving and he felt like the word was collapsing on him. He’d found the sunlight and he never wanted to be without it.

Now he’s seen it all, all the little things that make you who you are, including your flaws, and he loves you not regardless of them, nor in spite of them, but because even your worst imperfections make you… you.

Bucky doesn’t know if meeting you was a way for the universe to fix all the wrongs that have been done to him, a sort of payback for all the shit he’s been put through, but in case it is, then he’s got no objections. And maybe he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you, but he’s a selfish man, and now that his sunshine girl is with him he never wants to plunge back into the the darkness ever again.

He tucks you both under the sleeping bag and snuggles next to you.

“Buck?” you mumble in a haze, tugging at his t-shirt, “Love you.”

It’s almost imperceptible, but his supersoldier hearing allows him to pick it up. He kisses the crown of your hair as he caresses your back.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

He wants to spend the rest of his time on Earth proving you how much.

New York

6 months later

The doctor wasn’t lying when she warned you that recovery would take 6 to 9 months.

You said the aftermath of the operation hurt like a bitch and that physiotherapy hurt even more. Today’s your last session and Bucky is glad about it for many reasons, like how you’re not in pain anymore for starters, and maybe because of how annoyingly fun, smart and hot your therapist is. Not like he’d ever admit it to you.

“Jesus,” you groan, “he turned me inside out like a sock, I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

“Sounds fun.” he deadpans.

“Someone’s jealous of the doctor?” you ask with a mischievous smirk.

“‘M not. He’s not all that.” he mumbles, blushing like a school boy.

You snort and drawl a ‘sure’. He sends you his best death glare.

“Whatever. I hope you don’t mind if we take a stop before going home.” he announces, helping you into the car. His palms feel clammy and he’s sweating despite the chilly winds of New York’s fall.

“Sure, where are we going?”

“Actually, that’s kind of a surprise, you’ll see.”

You beam at his words; he knows you love surprises and he hopes you’re going to like this one.

----

You look radiant as you lie on the blanket he’s spread on the grass, surrounded by colorful foliage. You’re sipping some of your favorite wine and nibbling on crackers as you admire a flock of birds migrating south in the sky.

You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish we wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

He’s prepared a long, passionate speech to tell you how much he loves you, of all the ways you’ve changed his life for the better and of all the reasons why he’d be a good husband.

But when you look at him with those bright eyes and beaming smile, he can barely remember his own name. He drops on one knee and holds the box out with shaky hands.

“Marry me, please.”

----

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog and comment, don’t be shy, feedback is always appreciated 🥺🤲

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

hop or max (or both👀) realise how close bill and steve have become and love it because they can just see how happy the boys are

The two boys hadn’t noticed Hop standing there.

They were sitting, pressed hip to hip on the stairs outside the Byers’ when he arrived to pick up El.

They were passing one cigarette back and forth despite the full pack sitting between them, and the outline of a pack he could see in Billy’s breast pocket.

They were talking softly, giggling, touch lingering as they passed the cigarette back and forth.

Billy’s face was soft, was open when he looked at Steve. Hop didn’t know much about the kid, but had heard stories, stories of how rough and tumble he tended to be, how he was hard and mean.

He looked like a damn teddy bear next to Harrington on the steps.

And Jesus, Steve was almost unrecognizable to Hopper.

He had known the kid for a long time, knew his dad all through school, knew Steve when he got old enough to start causin’ trouble.

He had seen Steve looking bored and proper, like he was above everything, like he was too good for Hawkins. He had seen Steve get knocked down a few hundred pegs, had seen him rattling about the town with a nervous twitch in his shoulder, a crazed glint in his eye and a spiked bat in his trunk.

Hell, he’d even seen the kid breakdown, had found him in the woods one night, crashing through with his bat, had started spewing off about how he needed to make sure they were all gone, that everyone’s safe.

(He had cried and shook and slept on Hop’s couch for about a day and a half after that.)

He was used to the spoiled little prince, or the haunted teen with trauma past his years.

He was not used to this carefree boy, this giggly mess sitting next to his friend, sharing a cigarette.

He liked the look on Steve. Liked the line of his shoulders when they weren’t carrying the weight of the world.

Max huffed.

She had been woken up by a few thumps in Billy’s room. He had originally figured Neil was in there being awful, but then she heard giggles, unmistakable teenage girl giggles.

That gave way into unmistakable teenage girl moans.

She slammed a pillow over her head, blocking out the high-pitched whimpering. It was the same as the past few nights.

This girl, whoever she was, Billy must like her if she kept sneaking into his bedroom.

Usually, Billy was sneaking out, not letting this girl in.

When the noises had stopped, she took the pillow off her head.

“Sucks that your parent are home. It makes me nervous, you comin’ here. When do they leave again?” She rolled over, didn’t care to hear the chick’s response. She put on her headphones, falling asleep to the Metallica tape still in Billy’s walkman, didn’t hear Steve say, just two more nights, Bill.

“You need any help?” Hop was elbows deep in the sink, scrubbing at the dishes from dinner.

Steve was leaning against the counter, rolling up his sleeves. He didn’t wait for an answer, just shoved himself next to Hop and began scrubbing.

“You and Hargrove seem to be close.” He was too focused on rubbing the stains off of Joyce’s dishes to see how Steve’s cheeks went red.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“I think you’re good for each other. You both seem better.”

“‘Do you mean better?” Hop shrugged.

“He doesn’t seem as pissed off. I haven’t given him a speeding ticket in over two weeks for rage driving, and you haven’t seemed so, I don’t know, fucked up.”

Steve had to put the dish down as he laughed, was laughing so fucking hard he had to squat down, try to collect himself. He wiped his eyes when he stood back up.

“He’s secretly a really nice person. Don’t tell him I said that.” Hop winked at him.

Max threw Billy a weird look.

She had asked for a ride to Steve’s house, which was met with a I’ll be ready in ten from Billy. Twenty minutes of him getting his hair just so, they set off.

And then Billy got out of the car with her, walked her to Steve’s door.

“Don’t you got a date?” Billy just furrowed his brows at her. She looked pointedly at his clothes, the red shirt he only wore on his dates, almost all the way unbuttoned.

“Nah. Just haven’t done laundry in a while.” He was staring her down.

“Are you and Steve even friends?” But he didn’t answer. The door swung open, revealing Steve dressed casually in a pair of sweats. He smiled at Max, ushering her inside to the kitchen with the rest of the brats as he stepped onto the porch to talk to Billy.

She doubled back.

“You look nice. Got a date?”

“Yeah. Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.” She cringed at the way her brother was talking about this poor girl. Plus, ehy had he lied to Max, said he didn’t have a date.

“Sounds like a wet fucking dream.” Billy muttered shuddup as Steve laughed.

Steve was making fun of Billy, as wasn’t getting the shit beaten out of him for it.

“Well, come in then. It’s cold.” It really wasn’t but she raced off to join the others in the kitchen, left too soon to see Billy pin Steve against the door, kiss him roughly for a few seconds.

Billy snuck out again, after dropping her off at home.

Hop was on quarry duty tonight.

It was Valentine’s Day, which meant most of Hawkins’ young couples would be parked at the quarry or Lovers’ Lake or one of the other lookout make out spots.

Hop was wandering through with a flashlight, knocking on windows with a Hawkins PD, get outta here, you’re trespassing.

He came upon Billy Hargrove’s unmistakable car, the dark blue Camaro parked under a large tree, mostly hidden from the other’s.

He was expecting to knock on the back window, but heard voices coming from the hood.

Billy and Steve were passing what smelled like a joint back and forth, laying back on the windshield looking at the stars.

“Fuck knows I got no other plans for this year. I don’t mind waiting.”

“It’s a whole year, Steve. You’d be stuck here until I graduate.”

“What else am I gonna do?”

“You might still get into Chicago.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Bill.”

Hopper came stomping up to their line of sight. Steve put out the joint against the side of the car and tossed it into the bushes.

“Subtle.” Billy shrugged at Hop.

“I was expecting to have to pull you off some girl, Hargrove.”

“Hawkins chicks ain’t really my type.” Hop just shook his head.

“Well, you two are still trespassing. Services roads closed at six.” Steve just nodded vigorously as he slid off the car.

“We’ll scurry right off, Hop. Sorry.”

“And if you two are gonna smoke, please do it in a house, or somewhere I can’t smell it.”

The two slammed themselves in the car, Hop could hear them laugh as the car roared to life.

Max was digging through the backseat of Billy’s car, trying to find her skateboard.

He had hidden it from her, like a fucking child, so she snagged his keys when he was too busy being a meathead, working out in the living room.

It was as gross as she was expecting. Billy like to keep his car very clean, especially compared to his pigsty of a bedroom.

She picked up an old worn sweatshirt, found a plain shoebox underneath.

She didn’t want to snoop, but she was curious.

There were a few pictures of Billy’s mom right on top. She only recognized her from the necklace around her neck, the one Billy now refused to take off.

There were some movie ticket stubs, a big wad off cash she made a mental note of, a slip of paper she recognized from a fortune cookie from the place Billy would take her on Thursdays after school in California to get their two for one entree special. He had some jewelry in there, probably more of his mom’s, and a gaudy valentine covered in glitter.

She closed the box, didn’t care to dig further than the valentine, didn’t see Steve’s neat handwriting inside of it, the pictures Billy hoarded underneath it, pictures of Steve, pictures of him and Steve, even a few saucy ones of Steve.

Instead she turned her attention to the hoodie, to the faded Hawkins High Swim Team on the front.

She gave it back to Steve next time she saw him.

“Found it in my brother’s car.”

It would be back in a few weeks, anyway.

Hop opened the door to the cabin when Steve rapt on it.

He was toting a bunch of board games, was there to watch El for the night.

Hop raised his eyebrows when Steve set them down, revealing the faded Judas Priest shirt. He knew Steve liked shitty pop, wouldn’t be caught dead listening to hard rock.

“Nice shirt.” Steve looked down at himself, going red.

“Oh shit, Bill slept over last night, he must’ve left it.”

And then Hop noticed the bruises. The dark hickies on his neck, just under the stolen shirt.

Hop’s pretty sure he would’ve never heard the end of it if Steve had a girlfriend, pretty sure the kid’s would’ve lost their shit over it.

So Steve maybe was dating in secret, dating a boy in secret, a boy he spent Valentine’s Day with, a boy he giggled with and shared cigarettes with, a boy who’s shirts he stole and forgot he was wearing them.

But Steve was soft when he sat down next to El, smiled at her nicely and asked about the book she was reading.

So Hop shrugged, and went to his late shift.

“You wanna go to the mall?” Billy was standing weirdly in her doorway, trying to make himself look like he belonged there. “Could call up that chick friend of yours.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What’s the catch.”

“No catch. Just needed to get something from the mall. Thought you’d wanna go.” He had been acting really off lately.

He’d been talking to her how they used to, before Neil doubled down and moved them halfway across the country. He had even made a joke the other day, one that wasn’t a mean comment masquerading as a joke.

“Lemme call El. Maybe Hop would drop her off.” She was even more suspicious as he smiled at her, went to back to his room. She talked to El for a moment, who said Hop would drop her off in ten minutes.

She poked her head in Billy’s room, saw him looking in the mirror, primping himself.

“Does your girlfriend work at the mall?” He gave her a withering stare.

“Don’t have a girlfriend.” She grinned.

“You so do. You know, I heard her sneaking in here a few months ago. I know that you sneak out to go and see her.” Billy flushed. “And it’s always the same voice, so don’t lie and say it’s different girls you perv.”

“Shut up, Maxine.”

“Make me, William.” He stamped his foot like a little kid.

“That’s it! No more mall for you today. I’m just gonna go by myself.” She blocked him in the doorway.

“Just tell me her name.” He shook his head.

“Fine. Tell me where she works and El and I will leave you two alone.” He shifted his jaw around.

“She works at Scoops Ahoy?”

“Isn’t that where Steve works?”

“He introduced us.”

But, But that didn’t add up. Billy had been seeing this girl long before Steve started working there. Maybe they knew each other before? No, Steve famously didn’t have any friends besides the party when Billy started sneaking around with that gir-

And then it hit her.

The fucking sweatshirt.

The Hawkins High Swim Team sweatshirt.

Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.

She almost threw up.

Steve was her brother’s secret girlfriend. How did she not fucking see this.

“Cool. We’ll let you two be gross or whatever.”

He gave her a tiny smile. She was trying her best not to scream.

Hopper dropped El off and Billy drove them to the mall, let Max pick the music and at one point, had even hummed along to the Hall & Oates song. Fucking Rich Girl.

She pulled El along to The Gap when they hit the mall, Billy making a beeline for Scoops.

“We’re gonna spy on Billy.” El just smiled slyly and nodded vigorously.

They crouched behind plants out in front of Scoops, could just hear Billy talking to Steve’s coworker.

“Dingus, your homoerotic rival turned lover is here.” Steve’s shoes squeaked as he launched himself from the back room. Max’s hands were clammy. She was right.

“Don’t be so loud, Rob.”

“There’s no one here.” Max heard a sound like something being hit dully. Steve yelped. Billy just slapped his ass. “But, you are not allowed to leave me for more than your fifteen. Not like last week. The rush came and I was alone for an hour, Steve. An hour.”

“O-kay, Rob. We’ll be quick.”

“And disinfect any surface you two fuck on. I refuse to touch that.” Billy roared with laughter as Steve squawked indignantly. Max peeked up to watch Steve drag Billy into the backroom. Billy grinned at Robin, a really nice, happy smile before turning to Steve.

#im sorry for being super inactive #ive been having a bunch of health issues #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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persephonesinfernos · 4 years

Text

constellations | part three.

summary: there are only 88 officially recognized constellations, a small number considering you and your soulmate would have the exact same constellation on your skin. how can be sure if it was really them with so few of them? you could mistake your soulmate.

word count: 1409.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader.

warnings: stupid ass boyfriends.

constellations masterlist | masterlist

“Well, there are plenty of them. You sure they’re ready for this?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, we need new people. People that can think out of the box and this college has the best odds on finding people like that. They are known for training the best future analysts.” Steve answered, looking through the two-sided mirror.

“I don’t know man, they just seem too young. Look at that girl, she looks out of place. What the hell is she doing?” Sam noted pointing a finger to you. “She is about to have a mental breakdown, I can tell, I’ve seen this behaviour before.”

As both of them keep on talking about the candidates, Bucky stood there in silence. His mind was somewhere else. On that girl Sam mentioned before, there was something about her he could not place.

She was a nervous wreck, and he liked that. He liked that she seemed out of place, he could relate to that. But also the fact that she was brave enough to engage in all of this madness that was the internship without knowing too much. There were other things about her he liked besides, but they were all superficial. He was edgy to see how she was going to do on the trial. He smiled slightly at his thoughts whilst his metal arm reached for his right side, scratching softly. An itching sensation all over his right ribs.

You woke up in a white room, bright lights blinding you. You softly moan in annoyance, your body ached. You tried to sit up but a hand on your shoulder prevented it.

“Take it slow (Y/N)” A male voice spoken, it sounded vaguely familiar. “Remember me? I’m Steve, we met before you… Well, before this happened to you.”

“Ohh, right. The tall fit blonde.” You chuckled.

“I think you’re high on whatever the doctors gave you.” He said smiling politely to you. “What happened back there (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know, I was fine. Nervous, but not that nervous to faint. And then I felt it” Your eyes open in realization. “The soulmate thing” You whisper.

Steve looked at you, curious all over his face but he got no chance to ask you more about it because the door opened as other two males entered the room, one of them got your eye as the air in your lungs disappeared. His hair was brown and long, long compared to the other two and his eyes, you could not describe what his eyes were doing to you.

You could not think, could not breath, could not move. You weren’t able to do nothing but looking at him feeling a burning sensation all over you, the cold your body previously felt was long gone now.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)” Steve called you waving a hand in front of your face.

Your head turned to him flashing an apologetic smile. “These are Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. They were there too when you collapsed.”

“Oh, hi?” You said blushing. “Not a good first impression, uh? Sorry about what happened, I’m still trying to figure it out”.

“It’s fine (Y/N), just do not that again. You scared us”. The one that was Sam said. “Just get some rest, in a few hours you will be discharged. We’ll meet in some days, Steve and I need to go on a mission.”

“Yeah, that’s right (Y/N). But Bucky is staying this time, so any doubt or question you might have, he’s your guy.” He nodded towards Bucky that kept his eyes straight to you. But there was not an uncomfortable feeling around.

Bucky and you remained silent, looking deeply into each other's eyes. Finally, Steve coughed awkwardly breaking the spell between both of you “It’s for Sam and me to get going, have some rest and get well (Y/N). We’ll see each other soon.”

Sam said his goodbyes and followed Steve out of the room.

A heavy silence felt between Bucky and you, each other’s’ eyes burning holes into your souls. What was happening? You knew something about him was pulling you towards him, wanting to gravitate around him all your life. But, why?

“I know who you are”. He said softly as he stepped towards you.

“(Y/N)?” You replied nervously, you couldn’t breathe properly. Your mind was lost in his grey-blue eyes, nothing else but him. His body pressed to yours, holding him forever.

“No”. His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you blush. If only he could read your mind…. “The Air Pump.” He was mere inches from your, his body heat radiating. You could feel everything about him while your hand reached for his cheek.

“(Y/N)!!!” The door opened aggressively, Erik coming in like a storm. “I came as soon as they called Nat. What happened?” He approached and hugged you intensively, his lips were joined to yours in a second. But you did not reciprocate.

“Erik,” You said trying to push him away. “I’m fine, please.” You tried again to push him but he did not budge, making you uncomfortable.

“Shh, it is the shock. Do not worry love, I got you.” You couldn’t look at him, your eyes moved away gazing at Bucky who just went back to a corner and look at you sadly and confused. He looked like a lost puppy and you wanted nothing but to hold him forever until his sadness would wash away.

“I should go. If anything happens, let me know (Y/N). We’ll see each other soon.” Bucky said and you felt a sudden sorrow watching him go. “Erik” He mentioned with an angry voice as he walked out of the room.

Erik did not pay any attention to him but you could not look away, not wanting to lose him even though you just met the man.

Days have passed since you last saw Bucky, your phone always taunting you. It seemed that it was saying “call him, you want to see him again.” But you were not brave enough, you needed to figure out everything that was happening before doing anything.

Erik, your current boyfriend, did not help. He was constantly near you, his personality becoming more obsessive and possessive towards you. You were moody all day due to this, but he didn’t stop. He treated you as if you were his possession and this was something you could not overlook.

Nat talked to you. She said you needed to stop him, break up with him if necessary. She also knew that something has happened, something was different but did not push the subject.

You picked up the phone, calling the only person who would help you.

“Sis, what’s up?” You heard your brother’s voice on the other side, making you relax at the very same moment.

“Ezra, something’s wrong” You couldn’t help it, tears started to run freely all over your face.

“Little gremlin, what’s up?” He hasn’t used that nickname since you turned 10 and the fact that he still remembered that you were afraid of that movie (earning the nickname from your annoying big brother) made you chuckled.

“I don’t know, I thought that everything was fine. That Erik was the right one. But then I felt it, the exact same thing you described to me about the soulmates.” You started to explain. “And when I found out what constellation I had, it turns out that he had the same. But something was off.” You paused to take a deep breath, your brother silent at the other side. “Why did I not felt it when I met him?” Ezra sighed. “After that moment, he became a dark version of himself. Possessive, aggressive, obsessive…”

“(Y/N), stop. Look sis, I never liked him. But I didn’t tell you because you seemed so happy and I didn’t want to be the one to shatter all that happiness in little pieces.”

“Ezra, but I felt it. The heat, my skin glowed. I fainted, it was too overwhelming that I collapsed.” You looked down at your feet. “And when I woke up, there was this guy. You should’ve seen him, he was… I can’t put a word to it, but everything felt calm and I wanted to be near him all the time, to protect him.”

“Your soulmate” You could sense his smile as he said that word. “Congrats, you’ve made it. Now you know what you gotta do.”

“Yes. But that doesn’t make it less frightening.”

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scoopsahoy · 4 years

Note

i just read ur fic about getting pregnant with steve and was wondering if u could write one about the reader and steve struggling for a few years to get pregnant, and she has an emotional breakdown one night bc she doesn't feel like enough for him because it's been pushed on her that women's only jobs are to have kids and shes like "i cant even do that so how am i supposed to please you" and he comforts her and makes her feel better

ぺ word count ⋰ 2.3k

✰ tw ⋰ none :)

❍ cw ⋰ swearing, mentions of sex

✐ masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

You sat on the toilet seat with your leg bouncing, anxiously waiting for the pregnancy test results to show up. This had become a new norm for you: getting pregnancy tests and anxiously awaiting the results. And you were sick of it.

It took a toll on you. Getting a negative result every single month for four years straight was stressful mentally and physically. You’d had a migraine for at least three and a half years, and no medicine helped. You were always nauseous and sick, which your gynecologist said was normal in your situation. You were always tired and sad, which affected your job and your relationship with Steve.

You knew he was just as tired of it as you were, and you knew he was probably exhausted from having to care for you all the time.

It had also taken a toll on your sex life. At this point, you two only had sex to reproduce. You rarely finished and always denied his offers to help you. You would always flip yourself upside down afterward to help the sperm enter your uterus.

You’d both been to the doctor multiple times to see which one of you was fertile. Steve was one hundred percent fertile, while you had less of a chance of getting pregnant that you should’ve had.

You’d been to multiple IVF appointments as well. It wasn’t Steve’s favorite thing in the world to go into a room alone and masturbate to porn to provide sperm samples.

At this point, he didn’t enjoy looking at other women to get off, so you had taken pictures of yourself to give him.

The first few times it was awkward for him afterward, but you assured him there was nothing uncomfortable about it.

You’d probably spent over ten thousand dollars on it, and it was heartbreaking each time it didn’t work.

At the end of the five minutes, you grabbed the test out of the sink, feeling a pain in your heart at the single line.

You tossed it back into the sink as you stood up, feeling tears slide down your face. Your back hit the wall and you slid down until you felt yourself land on your ass.

You pulled your knees into your chest, propped your elbows on them, and put your hands into your palms.

You couldn’t help but sob. You and Steve had been trying for four years to conceive. And, despite everything mentioned, none of it worked. This was one of your last straws, a wave of sadness washing over you.

You both desperately wanted kids, preferably two or three. But at this point, you’d be lucky to even have one.

Steve made it clear that in the end, if you couldn’t have children of your own, he’d be perfectly okay with adopting, or just not having any. And you agreed.

However, you had the longing to create your own child. Everything from the pregnancy, to giving birth, to raising that child from the moment they came out, until the moment they could care for themselves. You wanted that more than anything, but you’d be happy to adopt if you were infertile.

But sitting on the bathroom floor knowing that every effort you made — propping yourself upside down after sex, aforementioned IVF treatments, tracking your cycles, staying healthy, etc. — didn’t work, made your heart hurt.

You wondered if you were good enough for Steve, if you could really give him what he wanted. If he was genuinely happy with trying to have kids for years on end and being unsuccessful. You wondered if that was what he wanted, if he was still happy with you.

Your sobs filled the bathroom, making you glad Dustin wasn’t there.

Dustin was your younger brother, and currently, he was at the arcade. He knew about your struggle to have kids, and he usually tried to help, whether it was with the foods you ate, or getting you vitamins, making sure your mom didn’t keep her alcohol where you could get to it, etc.

You thought it was sweet how much he wanted a niece or nephew, always talking about babysitting them and allowing them into the party.

You always made sure he was gone when you took pregnancy tests. You loved him, but comfort wasn’t his strong suit. Sometimes it would work just because of the effort, but sometimes it would make you feel worse. So, you figured the easiest way to avoid that was to make sure he wasn’t there.

The rest of the party was also anticipating you getting pregnant. Max, Eleven, and Nancy all said they would help her with girl things like periods, dating, and other things boys didn’t understand.

And Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, and Jonathan all said they would indoctrinate him/her into their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.

It made you cry the first time you found out how excited they were to have a new member of the family.

But you hated making them wait. Dustin and Robin were the only ones who knew how long you’d been trying, so the rest of them kept jokingly bugging you about them getting a new DnD member.

When Steve got home from work, he found you crying on the bathroom floor. He looked in the sink, seeing another negative test.

He sat on the toilet seat, placing his hands on your knees. He didn’t say anything, he let you talk at your own pace.

“Negative again,” you said, your voice stuffy.

He nodded. “I know.”

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Hey, look at me.”

You pulled your hands from your face, revealing your eyes bloodshot and puffy, your skin soaked in tears.

He stood up and held his hands out for you to take. You pulled yourself up and he cupped your face. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs, before grabbing a dry cloth and cleaning your face completely.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into a deep hug. You cried into his chest, leaving tear stains on his shirt. He gently pulled you to the bedroom a few seconds later. You sat against the headboard, resting your elbows on your knees. He sat across from you, only a few feet away.

He gripped your hands as you continued crying. It was silent for a few minutes before he continued the conversation.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why can’t I get pregnant?”

“You know that’s not your fault.”

“Is it enough for you? Am I enough for you?”

He furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”

“If I can’t give you a kid. If I can’t get pregnant, despite everything we’ve done, despite every effort we’ve made... will I be enough? Won’t you want more?”

“Don’t. Don’t even think like that. Don’t say that. Of course, you’ll still be enough for me.”

You softly shook your head. “I don’t believe that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you said that all you want in life is children. You want at least one son and one daughter. And you want to name one of them Dustin, and one of them Robin. And you’ve told me that you want to have a hundred grandkids so you can spoil all of them. And if I can’t give that to you-”

“Stop. Stop talking.” He gripped your hands tighter. “I don’t care. If you can’t give me that, that’s okay. More than anything, I want you. I want you, even if we don’t have a hundred grandkids.”

You felt more tears fall down your face, hitting your legs. He tilted your chin up to look at him.

“Why?” you asked.

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why wouldn’t you want someone who could give you that?”

“Because I don’t want just anybody. I want you. I’d live a thousand lifetimes without kids if it meant I got to be with you.”

“But you want a family.”

“Baby,” he chuckled. “We’re already a family. You and me, we are a family. We don’t need a child to be a family. Hell, we can adopt a dog or a cat if we wanted to. And that would still make us as much of a family as people with kids.”

“But we both want kids. I want kids. I want to be pregnant, I want to give birth, I want to hold the baby after they come out. I want to celebrate their first steps, their first words, their first birthday. I want to do that.” He didn’t say anything. “How am I supposed to please you if I can’t even get pregnant?” you mumbled.

He furrowed his brows. “What?”

“I mean, we’ve always been taught that in marriages, in order to be a good wife and please your husband, you should have kids.”

“Who the hell taught you that?”

You raised your eyebrows. “School, my family, everyone. I’ve grown up hearing that in order to be a good wife to my husband, I have to give him kids and that’s how we’re supposed to please you.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never been taught to only expect kids from my wife. They’ve been feeding you that bullshit?” You nodded. “For how long?”

“All my life.”

“I’ve grown up learning from my mom that, even if I don’t have kids with the person I marry, I should find someone that I can’t live without. That’s you.”

“Steve-”

“Y/N, you don’t have to bear a child to please me. I am so madly, deeply, stupidly in love with you. There is nothing you can do to make me not love you. You hear me?” You didn’t reply. “Why do you think I proposed to you and married you?”

“You wanted to start a family, but not outside of marriage. Isn’t that why every guy gets married?”

“Nope. Not even close. I mean, that’s a factor, but do you know the real reason I married you?” You still didn’t answer. “I married you to be with you,” he said as he poked you lightly on the chest. “I married you so I could spend the rest of my life with you. Obviously, I do want a family, but, like I said, I’d go a million years without kids if it meant I got to be with you.”

You were only crying harder now. “Steve-”

“I am so fucking in love with you, Y/N. Do you want to know how long it took me to get that ring-” He pointed to your engagement ring on your finger, which was joined by your wedding band, “after we started dating?” You shook your head. “Three days.”

Your eyes got wide. “What?”

“Yep. Three days into our relationship, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You know why I didn’t propose sooner?” You shook your head again. “We weren’t eighteen. That was the only thing holding me back. I had to wait two years to propose to you because we had to wait until we were adults.”

You looked down at your ring. “They let you buy an engagement ring at sixteen?” you chuckled.

“I guess so. I got it, didn’t I?”

You smiled. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too.” You squeezed his hands.

“Tell you what. Why don’t we take a break from trying? I mean, we’re only twenty-three. We have time. I know it’s stressing you out. Your head always hurts and you’re always sick. Let’s just wait a little while.”

You nodded. “That would actually be really nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can have sex just to have sex, not to make a baby.”

“Absolutely.”

You looked at him and he gave you a small smile.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said, your voice cracking.

“I think I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.”

You laughed softly. “And if we can’t have our own kids, we can adopt,” you said.

“Absolutely.”

“Take a kid or two out of the system.”

“Absolutely,” he repeated.

You got on your knees and hugged him, the two of you squeezing each other tightly.

“Did I mention that I love you?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? Because I do.”

“I’m sure,” you giggled. “I love you, too.”

When you pulled away, he looked at you. “Don’t blame yourself, baby. Seriously. It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

You pulled him in for one last kiss before heading to the kitchen to start dinner.

—

You, Steve, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, and Robin all sat in your dining room. For dinner, you made chicken burritos. The kids were all joking around and talking about the arcade when you decided to get their attention.

“So, me and Steve talked today,” you said, clearing your throat. They all looked at you. “I think... we’re gonna stop trying to have a kid for a little while.”

“What?” Lucas asked. “Why?”

“We’ve been trying for four years. I mean, we’ve done IVF-”

“What’s IVF?” Mike asked.

“In vitro. It’s artificial insemination.”

“We’ve done that about six times,” Steve said. “And it hasn’t worked.”

“Nothing we’ve done has worked. So, for now, we’re gonna take a break. I mean, it takes a toll on us.”

They nodded. “Okay. Whenever you get pregnant, that just means we can have someone else to play games with and invite to the arcade,” Lucas said. “Even if we’re older.”

Steve rested his hand on your thigh.

—

Laying in bed and being Steve’s little spoon as he slept caused you to start thinking again.

You didn’t realize it before, but you were more okay with waiting than you thought you would be. Sure, you’d be slightly older when you were pregnant — if you wound up pregnant at all — but you were fine with it.

Knowing that you were with someone like Steve, who didn’t care if you couldn’t have kids, was a relief. You knew you married the right person, and you knew your kids would be right about you two being soulmates.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington x reader fanfiction #steve harrington x reader imagine #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine

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bird-in-a-cage · 4 years

Text

In today’s update of Whoops My Hand Slipped, and 100% inspired by smutty voice in my ear ( @cockasinthebird in case you couldn’t guess) and yesterday’s ravenous ghost talk, I present this. Enjoy!

E | 3157 | dubcon, spectrophilia, dom/sub vibes, choking, public sex, light nipple play

L Train

Steve fiddled with his tie, waiting on the platform for the red line to take him downtown. He was nervous, naturally. Not everyone got their foot in the door at Pierce and Pierce. But he had. And without his father's help. He had a job interview scheduled for ten. Nailing it was of the utmost importance. It meant he could stay in Chicago for one, his tiny uptown apartment with the windowsill lined with small succulent pots. It also would prove to his father that Steve wasn't a screw up. He could finally put his adolescent years and all the horrors they held to bed once and for all. Cut all ties with Hawkins and his family for good.

It was more than a job interview.

The platform gradually filled with commuters as the train pulled into the stop, already full of people. Steve had hoped getting a slightly earlier time would have meant it wouldn’t be so busy. He didn’t really want to have to ride an hour through the city crammed in like the fish in a trawler net he now was. But it would be okay. The journey didn’t matter, only the destination. He found a place to stand near a set of doors, facing outwards to watch the city go by, shifting his messenger bag to his front to keep it safe from pickpockets.

Steve knew there weren’t any, but his small town brain wouldn’t let those kinds of prejudices die.

The doors slipped close in front of Steve’s face before the train shuddered and shunted back into life, setting off at a pace through the city. Steve sighed silently to himself and ran through potential questions he might be asked, hands moving between playing with the strap of his bag, to the end of his tie, to brushing through the hair by his ears. All nervous habits and ticks. Never able to properly keep still. He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally picturing the interview. Placing himself as smooth and confident, with all the right answers. The total opposite to how he was in reality. Pierce and Pierce didn’t need to know who he really was.

Steve’s eyes flew open when he felt something touch his chest. There was nothing in front of him but the door, locked tight for safety. Maybe he had imagined the first, but the second time around there wasn’t a chance. It felt like a hand, open and splayed, right in the middle of his chest. The pressure of it slowly moving around to cup a pectoral muscle. It was strange to say the least. It didn’t feel like it was over his shirt though. It felt like it was directly against his skin. Steve glanced around. There was a man standing behind him but facing towards the rest of the carriage, nose deep in a folded up paperback. To Steve’s left was a woman in a pencil skirt, a black handbag pinned under her arm, again facing the carriage, focusing on nothing in particular with headphones on. Steve bit his lip before an embarrassing noise could be heard over the rattle of the engine as he felt fingers circling his sensitive nipple. His brain was suddenly spinning into overdrive, trying to work out what was happening and why. It wasn't another commuter and it certainly was far too direct to just be a haphazard breeze.

Mmm aren’t you a pretty one…

Steve felt his nipple being pinched as he probably resembled an owl, frantically looking around for whoever had spoken. But the voice that had floated around his head didn’t look like it came from anyone nearby. No one else was reacting if they had heard anything, or said anything even. It wasn’t a quiet voice either. Someone else would have definitely heard it. Steve hung his head and breathed hard through his nose. Now wasn’t the time for a breakdown, not on the biggest day of his life. Certainly the most important. Maybe that’s why it was happening. Stress and pressure. Steve closed his eyes again, just for a moment.

Nah ah pretty boy, let me see ‘em. You got real nice eyes.

Okay. No. This wasn’t happening. Not at all. Someone was playing a joke. A hideous prank. Steve kept his eyes shut on purpose now, ignoring the voice that was clearly just in his head. Trying to just breathe calmly and regain some form of composure. It lasted all of two seconds before his now hard nipple got another playful pinch. A noise bubbled in his throat that he had to pass off as a small cough.

Come on princess. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…

Steve furrowed his brow at that. What did that mean? He opened his eyes, just a crack, and glanced up from his shoes, nearly screaming when he saw blue eyes and a wicked grin suddenly in front of him in the impossibly small space. Steve blinked in fright and it was gone. Like it had never even been there. Breathing wasn’t helping anymore. Not when he could feel something running through his hair, raking fingers combing it back all the way to the base of his neck. It made Steve shiver down to his toes. He loved having his hair messed with. Even a trip to the salon was a danger for being slightly turned on by the hair wash station.

God what was happening? Why couldn’t anyone else hear this voice? Why did Steve suddenly see crystal blue eyes? Why was he having a breakdown now?

The hand left his hair and travelled down his spine, skin prickling in its firm wake, causing Steve’s back to arch with it. Down down until one hand became two and cupped his ass almost posessively. Another noise almost made its way out of Steve’s mouth in surprise.

Jesus baby, look at all this now. Goddamn shame for it to be all covered up in a monkey suit...

Was… Was that a complement? Steve shook his head, trying to get the voice to fall out of his ears, maybe shake loose the part of his brain that was shutting down and allowing any of this to happen. Certainly trying to shake away the thought that this actually felt good. That the hands now kneading his ass were actually pretty nice. Wide and definitely firm. Exactly what Steve liked. For a small moment he let himself enjoy it, maybe subconsciously pushing back, just a little, for more. The voice in his ear chuckled almost knowingly before the whole of Steve’s back just felt warm. Unnaturally warm. Stranger than if he was stood halfway under a heating vent or had his back against a radiator.

Let’s see what else you got huh?

The hands worked their way around Steve’s front, around his waist and down. Behind the messenger bag that was now having to hide the beginnings of a semi, through clothes that apparently he may as well not have even been wearing. Steve definitely felt a hand wrap around his cock like it was just out in the open, circlingly tight and giving one sharp tug. A noise bubbled and popped out of Steve’s mouth before he could stop it this time. An embarrassingly high moan because okay that really did feel good. Steve felt the flush burn his cheeks, keeping his head down towards the floor in the vain hope that no one was paying attention enough to know it was him. All lost in their own pre-work worlds. The voice laughed almost cruel in Steve’s ear. Mocking in a way as the phantom hand started playing more, working Steve into complete hardness, tenting his best work pants and pressing into the leather of the bag. Steve’s grip on the strap of it was turning his knuckles white.

God you’ve got a nice cock princess. Real nice. You got the whole package huh?

The whimper that left Steve’s bitten lips was shameful. He didn’t want this, didn’t ask for this, didn’t even know what was happening but, he didn’t really want it to stop. It had been a good few months since anything had touched him, aside from himself. And whatever was working him over felt so good. Practiced even. Different from Steve touching himself, tighter and rougher, but still good. He dug his feet firmer into the solid flood to stop his hips rocking into the feeling that was taking over, sweat starting to bead on his temples.

Mmm don’t be shy now baby. Bet a sweet lil’ thing like you just loves being all full…

Steve swallowed thick. What could that possibly even mean in this context? In the middle of morning rush hour on the busiest train Steve had ever been on in his life, shunting from station to station through Chicago towards the biggest opportunity he’d ever gotten, being groped and touched all over by an apparent ghost that just haunted the train? Was this a dream or a nightmare? Steve couldn’t even tell anymore. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was still in bed, having a stress dream. His alarm clock would blare any minute, he’d open his eyes and this would all be over. He’d be staring over at the closed bedroom door and not down at his shiny black shoes. He wouldn’t be feeling a small damp spot growing in his briefs. He wouldn’t feel the phantom hand leave his cock and start rolling his balls around slowly like marbles in a wide palm, and he certainly wouldn’t feel another hand around his throat, forcing his head up off the floor and towards the ceiling. An advert for insurance right there in front of him.

Bet you love suckin’ dick, huh pretty boy? Fuck, just made to take whatever you can get I bet. What I wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around me. Bet you could swallow me all the way down huh? No problem at all. Bet you ain’t had a gag reflex for a long time now...

Steve’s knees were starting to shake. This was all too much. He still wasn’t sure if it was a ghost or the voice of his subconscious ringing loud and true in his head. Because the voice wasn’t lying. Not even a little. The hand left his throat. Steve didn’t want to admit he missed it, feeling something that felt like a thumb press under the hinge of his jaw, fingers achingly close around his windpipe. He screwed his eyes shut, tight, trying to keep breathing and not pant or moan like his body wanted too, especially when the hand returned to his cock, now stroking with careless abandon.

Steve was going to come. He was going to come right in the middle of a subway train in his best suit less than an hour away from the biggest job interview of his life and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

But it wasn’t the stroking that was going to take him over the edge. No. It was the sudden feeling of something blunt and hot pressing up hard against his asshole. His eyes flew open and all he saw was his own reflection in the train doors, a flushed mess sweating out of his own skin like he’d come down with a sudden fever. Steve had enough life experience to know exactly what was going to happen. He couldn’t move from it, there was nowhere to go with everyone packed in like a sardine can. In true honestly he didn’t exactly want to move from it.

You want this baby? I promise it’ll feel so, so good.

Steve could only stare at his own reflection, his own eyes dark with lust and want and god he’d gone completely insane. The hands left his cock and wrapped themselves around his hips. Instinctively Steve arched back, practically presenting. That was his answer. He did want it. He wanted it bad.

Fuckin’ knew it...

The groan Steve heard in his head was sinful. So deep and sexy it was like the soundtrack of a porno playing just for him. But what he felt was even better. So impossibly good. Going from nothing to stretched out and full in just a few short moments with no pain. It was heaven. Steve couldn’t stop the small whimper from his throat even if he wanted too. The man reading the paperback coughed. Annoyed. He’d definitely heard that one. The voice laughed, rocked up and punched the air out of Steve’s lungs, those devilish hands letting go of Steve’s hips and travelling up to his chest again. This time deciding to play with both of his nipples, flicking and twisting and circling around and around. Steve wouldn’t have lips left after all this with how hard he was having to bite them.

He no longer cared what was happening. If he was having a breakdown then so be it, this all felt far too good. Like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

Rock for me baby. Let me know you like it...

The voice was so sultry Steve had no option but to obey, rocking small on the balls of his feet. The voice moaned loud and deep and it just sent pure sparks along Steve’s spine. It definitely felt like something was inside him, something thick stretching him open and fucking him without a care. Steve felt it thrusting in and out, setting a brutal pace straight away that just wouldn’t be possible. God it was incredible. The small wet patch was getting bigger, threatening to leak through and stain, but Steve didn’t have the brain power to care anymore. He shifted his bag ever so slightly over the sensitive head of his cock, using three layers of different materials to his advantage, making his eyes roll back into his head. The voice just laughed and went harder. It was a miracle Steve was still on his feet. Was pretty sure whatever was fucking him was the only thing keeping him upright anymore.

Fuck, look at you. Such a little slut. So desperate for a dick you’ll take anythin’. Ain’t that right princess? Nod for me darlin’, you know I’m right. Say it outloud. I wanna hear it.

Steve bit his lip harder. He couldn’t. That was just too much. That would be admitting that this was good to the world. That wasn’t about to happen. A hand wrapped itself around his throat again, head being dragged back up to the insurance advert, locking eyes with a picture of a smiling woman holding a set of keys. Steve gasped and the grip was tighter this time. The other hand was back around his cock. God he could feel fingers everywhere. Splayed over the expanse of his throat and squeezing. Trailing through his weeping slit, wrapping tight on the strokes up and down then trailing again. The dick fucking him was getting harder somehow, brushing over his prostate with every other thrust. Steve was going to explode. This would be how he died. On the L Train red line. They’d find his corpse with a gaping asshole and drained of every ounce of cum Steve could possibly ever make. No evidence to be found. No motivation for a killer.

Come on pretty boy. Say it. Say you love my cock.

The hand tightened enough for Steve to choke and cough. His brain was swimming. A coil had formed hot in his gut, winding tighter and tighter. Jesus there was no way this was about to happen.

Say it!

“I love you cock…” Steve barely muttered out, gasps and a moan spilling out too. The man with the book coughed again but Steve didn’t care anymore. He was lost in a world of invisible hands and see through dicks and a voice, a deep deep voice that was grunting and panting hot next to his ear. Steve kept rocking back, a deep part of him wanting to just fall to his knees and let this ghost or whatever take him mercilessly.

Yeah you do. Yeah you do. Fuck!

Steve gasped at the feeling of wetness that wasn’t his own, deep inside him. That was extremely real. There was no way it couldn’t be. The ghost kept rocking into him, spilling and apparently milking himself in Steve’s body. He’d never felt so violated before. But it poured pure gasoline on the burning fire. With one more stroke of an invisible hand Steve came in his pants, whimpering like he was about to cry as the world whited out, falling forward to brace his hands on the door so he didn’t just crumble and fall apart. He panted through his nose, deep and hard and heavy. His briefs felt disgusting sticking against his spent cock. The voice laughed breathy, what was probably a nose brushing behind Steve’s ear with apparent affection.

Fuck, that was good. Thanks pretty boy.

And with that everything stopped. Steve was left alone, up against the train doors. The hands and voice totally gone. The only evidence of their presence was buried deep inside him. Steve ran off the train as soon as it pulled into the next station. If it was his he didn’t care. The first lungful of air was bliss. He gulped it down like water in a desert, trying to clear his head, staring at the steel vehicle. If his pants weren’t sticking to him so uncomfortably Steve would argue with himself if anything had even happened.

Blue eyes and that grin flashed through the glass of the doors. They winked and blew Steve a kiss before the train set off again, having to keep time through the city and its next stop.

Steve stayed on the platform for a while. A still beacon in an ocean of moving bodies, mentally trying to process what had happened but he just couldn’t. It was all far too much. Did he really just get fucked by a ghost? No, okay, one thing at a time. Pierce and Pierce. Job interview. He could ditch his briefs and try and block out this morning, he could still try. Piecing together his surroundings the office was only a few blocks away. He still had time to make it. Focus on one thing and one thing only. Don’t let them see the crazy. Prove everyone wrong.

Determined, Steve pressed on. His body felt truly fucked. His insides just felt wrong and out of place in a way that would be amazing if it wasn’t down to a spector’s wicked work. No. Don’t focus on that. Professional, not crazy. It was two blocks down that Steve came to a stop from his march, a sinking realisation setting in. Regardless of the outcome, he’d need to get the same train home. And that thought didn’t fill him with as much dread as it should have.

#harringrove #billy x steve #my writings #tw: dubcon #also on my ao3 #spectrophilia

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champagne-bucky · 4 years

Text

The Undoing: Three

Summary: The truth about a past life is unveiled.

Warnings: THIS IS A DARK STORY!! dark! Steve Rogers x reader, kidnapping, non con and dub con (or at least mentions of), dark! Bucky Barnes, Stockholm syndrome, grooming, mentions of pregnancy termination and suicide mentions (for one chapter), possibly more tags to be added!

Notes: Hahaha... remember this story? Lol so I finally can give to you Chapter 3!! I feel so bad that this was so late, but school really kicked my ass so hard and I’ve just been so unmotivated. I’m gonna try my hardest to give you guys this story and some other stuff I’ve been working on! I hope you guys enjoy this one! Please make sure to like, reblog, comment, inbox, and follow me for more!! Enjoy :)

PLEASE READ WARNINGS!!

Hell must be an eternal bliss. If it’s anything compared to how you’ve been living your life the past few years then Satan himself has nothing on Steve Rogers.

Life was never the same after that day in the hospital. From the moment you left that bed to the moment you arrived home with your little Sasha, Steve had already struck the fear of God into your soul. From the second you entered into your prison, Steve had wrestled the newborn out of your hands and into his. What followed after was a swift grab of your hair and a drag down the basement steps.

“You can leave when you learn,” Steve spat at you before locking your ankle back into place.

Those days were the darkest moments of your life. You never got to see Sasha, well you did interact with her you just couldn't physically see her. Steve made sure of that. Every time poor baby Sasha was hungry you were subjected to a blindfold around your eyes. Steve said it was part of your punishment. You tried to take away his family, he would take away yours, at least the sight of them.

That was all you got with precious Sasha. This punishment was real and it ended up fucking with your mental and physical health.

*a few months later*

How long has it been down here? Months, year? It couldn’t have been weeks. Life was going on all around you and you had missed it all.

Steve taunted you, he got off on your absence in Sasha’s life. The doctors had told Steve it was safe to start using bottled milk after a while which meant there was no chance of you to even feel Sasha and her touch. No more, you saw nothing, not even a shred of hope.

*18 months*

You had cracked, it had officially happened. That light you hoped would never fade has burned itself out. In its place a hollow bulb left with no purpose. The only difference between you and the bulb? Your purpose was to be solely Steve’s. You didn’t belong to anyone else, not even baby Sasha.

These last months had broken you down into the compilable puppet Steve wanted you to be. You missed everything in your baby��s first year of life all because of that stupid mistake the night of her birth. Steve tortured you even further by not even mentioning the baby one bit. It’s like there wasn’t even a baby at all. At one point, you feared that Steve might’ve given her away, but he accidentally slipped one night during your punishment by mentioning her. Sasha was your last source of joy and you couldn’t even see her.

“I wanna have another one,” Steve mentions to you while you eat the food he brought you. For the past months you were only given his scraps of food, it’s no wonder why he’s giving you full meals lately, he wants you strong for another baby.

The stubborn girl inside you wanted to scream no, but you knew what would happen if you did. If having another baby would make Steve happy, you would do it. Maybe you could wager your way out of the basement.

“I would like that too, Steve. A little sister or brother for Sasha,” Steve hid his shock. He was fully expecting you to have another outburst, but you seemed so compliant now.

“Why don’t we go upstairs and see little Sasha,” you gasped at Steve’s suggestion. You would finally be able to see your little girl after all this time.

Steve led you up the stairs for what would be the last time for a while now. The bright light of the upstairs hit your face and you needed to adjust to it. He led you over to the living room area and that’s when you saw her.

She was sitting with Bucky and playing with her toys. You had tears in your eyes as you broke away from Steve’s hold and ran to Sasha. Bucky eyed you up and down. You were dirty. Hair long overdue for a cut and your nails were grimey. You were a wreck. What had Steve done to you down there?

You picked up your daughter and held her close. She cried. In fact, she was wailing to the point where her face was turning beat red. Sasha started failing her limbs around and looked for her daddy. It took both Steve and Bucky to pry you away from your daughter. Steve took her into his arms and soothed her.

“I think she needs a nap,” Steve then handed your daughter to Bucky as he brought her upstairs.

“I don’t understand,” you were kneeling on the floor now looking at the staircase Bucky had just gone up.

“Oh, well she doesn’t know who you are. You're more a stranger to her than a mother,” you didn’t even want to turn around to see the grin on Steve’s face. He lifted you into his arms.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you didn’t even realize you were crying, “she’ll come to know you soon enough. Now let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. We have plans.”

*5 months later*

It was a brutal few months. Months filled with trial and error in regards to getting pregnant again. Months spent in a bathroom crying over another negative pregnancy test. Months spent living in Steve’s disappointment due to your failure to conceive a child. However, that silver lining came in at the five month mark. Finally, there were tears of celebration from both you and Steve. The latest addition to your family would be on their way soon enough.

During this time, you got to see Sasha, but barely. With every failure that came Steve would redact the amount of time you two would spend together. Some days he wouldn’t let you see each other at all because of your “unwillingness to commit to this family” and that broke your heart.

You were groomed to be the perfect wife and perfect mother to this family and goddammit were you sure not going to fail. Steve had taught you how a wife should serve and act around their husband and you followed his every command like an obedient dog. Now, you finally succeeded with this baby and were back in Steve’s perfect graces.

*a few years later*

The routine was always the same. Get up, get dressed, feed the babies, and make breakfast for your husband before he locked himself away in the office for the day. Take care of the babies and clean around the house. Make lunch for Steve and maybe have some alone time together if the babies are down for a nap. Not if, they better be down for a nap, Steve’s orders.

Grocery shopping is to be done on the weekends and weekends only. Steve will go out because only you can watch the babies. If you needed something you forgot to write on the list, too bad it would have to wait until next weekend.

It was a good system, a steady routine. You didn’t argue with Steve because you knew better than to question his ideas. Plus, you didn’t mind staying home with the babies. You loved taking care of them and spending so much time with them. To be honest, you even hated putting the little ones to bed because that meant you would be apart. The babies were keeping you in one piece.

Of course Steve was doing his part as well. The perfect husband. A man you didn’t know you needed in your life to be your provider. He truly was becoming an ideal man.

The babies were doing great. After Sasha you gave birth to another girl, Gwenyd. Sasha was a helpful big sister to her and you couldn't wait to tell them about the newest little one to join your perfect family.

Life for baby Sasha was as simple it could be for a toddler. She got naps and food and spent the whole day with her mommy. Needless to say she was living the ideal toddler life. However, past her toddler years she was taking up responsibilities that a little girl shouldn’t have.

Ever since she turned 6, Sasha would help her mother out with the younger siblings. It was a sweet sight to see. You had taught Sasha how to feed the little ones, how to change them, how to dress them, like one big game of house. This was the bonding time you had always craved with your little girl.

Steve thought that it was endearing. A mother and daughter helping take care of his children. He really did have the perfect family.

As the years went on, Sasha had gotten older and she had more siblings to help take care of. You were burnt out by then. A new baby almost every year or two. Luckily, you had your daughter helping you out, but she shouldn't have to be subjected as a second parent when there was another perfectly capable one sitting locked in his office.

On top of that, you now have to homeschool these children while making sure the helpless little ones were being properly taken care of. Needles to say, you were on the verge of a breakdown and Steve wasn’t willing to help out with some of it.

Sure, he would have his bonding time with the babies, but when it came to the older ones and homeschooling he couldn't deal with that headache. After all, he did tell you that if you didn’t want them sent to a daycare then you would have to take up all the responsibilities while he was at work.

He knew you wouldn’t send the kids away, you were too attached to losing them like you had lost yourself. They were the only thing stringing your reality together and keeping the cracks from splitting further down the line. You were happy, he convinced himself, happy and compliant.

*a few years later*

Why didn’t you take that deal with Steve when the kids were younger? Why couldn’t you just let them thrive in a better learning environment? You are worried you’ll fail these kids. Worried that you’ll screw them up. You were close to shattering.

Being pregnant again and teaching your daughter how to do fractions, that not even you knew how to explain, was taking a toll on your mental state. You wanted a break. Just one day where you didn’t need to worry about what was for dinner or what’s tomorrow’s new lesson play. You NEEDED a break.

Steve wouldn’t let you go anywhere. The rules had never changed. You never even got to be in your backyard alone. Didn’t anyone realize that no one but Steve ever left the house?

The kids were sometimes allowed out, but only when Steve had the time to take them, which was rarely. Bucky never came around anymore. You didn’t know any details, but assumed they must’ve had a falling out. Steve never told you anything about his work or about family or friends. Frankly, you didn’t care as much either. This was your new life now and the past was in the past.

Steve was going to kill his wife. If it wasn’t him killing his wife then then it would be the first person who would cross his path. How could she be so careless? How could HE be so careless? He thought the locks he bought for the house were secure enough to keep his wife in, guess not. Turns out all it took was his 13 year old daughter swiping away a key he thought he misplaced for the total shit storm to come down on him.

It all started on a quiet afternoon, the wife was cooking in the kitchen and the kids were playing in their rooms. There was a knock on the door, Steve told his wife not to bother as he went to answer it. He remembers the feared look on the one agent's face as they announced they were CPS coming in for an investigation. Needless to say after they left, Steve went berserk. Not only on his wife, but on Sasha too.

“HOW COULD YOU BE SO CARELESS?” Sasha was clinging to her mother with tears streaming down her face.

“Steve please don’t be so hard on-”

“YOU STAY OUT OF IT. I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER,” well you knew better than to interrupt at that point.

Steve was pacing back and forth while yelling at how careless and stupid his daughter was. Sasha was scarred from that night on. She was afraid of disappointing her father and mother anymore. So, she became more quiet and reserved than usual. You thought it was awful the way Steve broke her down, Steve thought it would teach her to be better.

CPS wouldn’t let up on their investigation with the Rogers family. Steve noticed that someone was always watching them. Whether it was from across the street or an impromptu visit, they were always around.

He needed to get them off his back somehow. If they were to find out who his wife really was then it was to the prison cell for a long time. Of course the cops had been looking for you. In fact, your father offered to fund all the money in their pockets to keep their investigation going. The case ran cold a few years back, Bucky told him that before he departed for the next few years.

Steve did the most drastic, and most likely stupid, thing he could’ve thought of: he enrolled his eldest in high school.

It might backfire, but if Sasha just stuck to the carefully coordinated routine Steve laid out for her, then all would be fine...right?

Tags to be added in comments!!

#dark avengers #dark captain america #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #dark marvel #mcudarklibrary #dark bucky barnes #dark james barnes #dark winter soldier

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kayteewritessteve · 4 years

Text

Beautifully Unfinished - 7/8

Description: One foolish outburst, one moment of weakness at the worst possible time, and everything goes up in smoke. Who knew finally voicing your true, deep-rooted feelings, would lead to the complete destruction of your most cherished friendship?

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 3,130 ish.

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Curse words. Lots of angst. But if you’ve read my stories before, then you know how this will end.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

The Beginning of The End.

You pace the length of your living room, hands clenched in your hair. Your best friend—the love of your life—gets married in 7 days. 7 fucking days. And you are absolutely beside yourself right now. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, fuck, you can barely even think. Everything in you is begging you to do something. Anything.

But you can’t. You can’t allow your foolish heart to say a damn thing. Who are you to dump all of this shit on an unsuspecting person? Who are you, that you can put your own feelings before others. Before your very best friend.

He’s in love. He’s getting fucking married, and next Sunday at that.

If you truly loved him, you’d stay the hell out of it. You’d stay the hell away from him till D day. Till the day there is no going back, and no chance for you to selfishly ruin everything.

So that’s what you’re currently doing, you’re avoiding him at all costs. You haven’t spoken to him in 2 weeks, much to your chagrin. And not without his effort.

He’s tried to contact you. He’s tried to call, to text. He even hounded Bucky about it, but you only know that because Bucky sent you a long text telling you to pull your head out of your ass, and stop ignoring him and Steve. He also reminded you that you are a GroomsWoman and you have duties to attend to. He may have also threatened to show up at your place, if you didn’t text him back within the hour.

So you caved. You texted him back, giving him a bullshit story about how busy you were with work right now. He clearly knew you were full of shit, but he left it alone. You’ve always assumed, and gotten the impression, that Bucky knew of your true feelings for Steve. Or he at least figured out there were more feelings there for you than just friendship. So you’d guess that he knew you were having a very hard time with this all.

You were struggling to come to terms with Steve’s impending union. Fuck, was that ever an understatement.

And in classic Bucky form, he seemed to understand without saying a thing, and then he offered to forward your message on to Steve. He promised to get him off your back for ‘work related’ reasons. And yes, he actually put it in quotes like that in his text.

So yeah, he totally knew. He probably always had, he was smart like that. He could read people better than anyone you knew. It was a little creepy actually, he was like some weird european spy, or something, you swear.

Yeah, you felt pretty guilty for not only skipping out on your GroomsWoman duties, but also for last minute cancelling on Steve’s Bachelor party. Because fuck that. That would not have ended well. Your intense heartache and feelings, mixed with alcohol and then stuck in a room with the object of your desires. Yeah, no, that had a ‘fucking mess’ written all over it. Entirely.

So you’d chickened out and texted Bucky, once again with a shit ass excuse about not feeling well. And again, you knew he saw right through it. But he covered for your ass like he always did.

You yank on your hair before dropping your arms, only to then not know what to do with them—or yourself, but one thing at a time here—so you awkwardly crossed them and halted your steps in front of your living room window. Staring out at the summer rain pelting down on everything outside; cars, people, the sidewalk.

What are you doing? Why are you like this? Why can’t you just get over these ridiculous feelings already? This is insanity, it’s the very definition of the damn word.

You take a deep breath, hoping it will help quiet the screams of your heart. With every passing day that’s brought you closer to his wedding day, your heart has gotten louder and louder. And your head? Well it’s not much better, it’s been trying to rationalize the pros of just telling him. Of just letting it all out finally. It’s been trying to tell you it would be worth it, it’s been attempting to give you this false hope that he would feel the same way. That if you just told him, he’d realize he feels the same and end this engagement to be with you.

But you aren’t a dumbass—at least not always—you know the likelihood of him feeling the same is a million to one. So basically so slim that there is no chance at all.

...But there is still that one shot! There is still that teeny tiny little chance!

Ugh! See! This is what it’s been like for weeks! This is the constant battle that has been raging inside you for months. Who are we kidding, it’s been like this for years. But it’s been made worse by the realization that you are running out of time. By the fact that the window of opportunity is slowly diminishing and will soon enough be shut forever.

Or at least until they get divorced! NO! You can’t think like that. They aren’t even fucking married yet, and already you are hoping for the end of their union. How sick are you? How fucking selfish? He’s your best friend. Be happy for him. Be thankful that he found his person.

Even if that person isn’t you.

Ugh! And now your hands are clenching the roots of your hair once again. This is agony. Maybe you can goto the hospital and ask them to put you under. Beg them to induce a coma, so you can finally just breathe and your head can shut off for a few days—

The slam of a door causes you to jump and whip around at the noise, only to feel all your blood attempt to leave your body at the cause of the sound. The very thing you are stressing out about right now.

Steve. He is standing not even 15 feet away from you currently, and he looks pissed as hell. Fuck fuck fuck. You are avoiding him for a reason! You can’t be around him right now, you are too weak, you will say something dumb. Or God forbid you will just word vomit all over him, you will just dump everything you’ve held in for years in one fell swoop.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Here, overthinking everything and having a mental breakdown. But you don’t say that, obviously, and instead go with, “What are you doing here, Steve?”

“Making sure you’re still fucking alive,” he glares at you. And ooh fuck, yup, yeah, he’s pissed alright. You’re fucking in for it now. “Since you can’t seem to reply to any of my messages, or answer your damn phone.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and then his eyes leave yours as he glances down at it’s screen, tapping away at it. A few seconds later, you hear the familiar chirp of your text notification tone and your eyes widen at the realization. You quickly go to grab your phone, hoping you can just avoid this whole thing. Hoping that by hiding it, it will defuse the ticking bomb that is currently your best friend.

He glances up and around for a second, his eyes then land on the traitorous electronic just as you pick it up and go to cram it in your pocket, but at the last second you flick the switch to put it in silent mode, then chuck it at the couch. His eyes follow the motion then snap back to yours, and you can’t miss just how heated they are now. Even more than they were before. “Steve, just let me—“

“I’m glad to see it still works perfectly fine,” he seethes, cutting you off and taking a few slow steps to fully enter the living room. Which causes your heart rate to pick up, tenfold. But not because your scared of him, fuck no, you’d never be scared of Steve. He gets mad sometimes, but never aggressive. The worst he gets is like a pissed off parent. So no, your heart wasn’t racing because of that, it was racing because he is so damn close now. Closer than he’s been in weeks, and he’s still like 10 feet from you. Gosh, you missed him so much—God, you are so damn pathetic!

“And that it’s on fucking loud,” he adds, halting his steps and narrowing his eyes at you. “So you have been ignoring me, huh?”

“It’s not like that—“

“Oh don’t give me that bullshit excuse, Y/N,” he cuts you off once again. And for a guy that wants answers, he sure as hell isn’t giving you the chance to actually give him any. “It’s me,” he gestures to himself, “Steve. Ya know, your best friend? The person who knows you better than anyone else. So tell me the damn truth, Y/N, why have you been ignoring me?”

I CAN’T! Don’t you fucking get that!? Instead of screaming that, you take a deep breath, and try to think of more rational words. “I haven’t been ignoring you, Steve,” you pause and scrunch up your nose. “At least not really. Not because of anything you’ve done. I’ve just been so busy lately, didn’t Bucky fill you in on this?”

“Really?” He says dryly, “you’re just going to stick with that horrendously fake excuse?”

“It’s not a damn excuse! I just needed some fucking space!” You snap, then quickly clench your mouth shut and drop your eyes to the floor, before exhaling deeply. The realization that he is clearly trying to get a rise out of you, hitting you instantly. He knows that if you’re pissed off, you’ll most likely slip up and tell him the truth. The fucker. He knows you too well.

“Some space?” He asks quietly, and you hear him take a few hesitant steps forward. “From who?”

You keep your mouth shut, and clench your eyes closed as well. If you open your mouth now, you’ll say something you’ll regret.

His breath hitches, “Fr-from me?”

The sheer pain and confusion in his voice makes your eyes start to sting, so you unclench them and blink rapidly a few times, in the hopes to stop the tears before they start. “From everyone,” you choke out.

“That’s not true though, is it? You’ve been replying to Bucky’s messages, so it is just space from me,” he takes a deep breath, “why? Why do you need space from me?”

“It’s not important,” you shake your head, tucking a few wayward strands behind your ear, “It’s stupid, and it won’t matter soon enough.”

“Of course it’s fucking important, Y/N. My best friend is upset at me for something, and that matters a hell of a lot to me,” he says adamantly. “So just tell me what’s wrong, Doll. Please?”

“I can’t, Steve. I really can’t, please just trust me here,” you sigh rubbing a hand on your forehead, while continuing to keep your eyes locked on the floor in front of you.

“And why can’t you?”

You keep your mouth shut, having no idea what to even say. But then you hear his light steps, just before his shoes come into your view.

“Doll, please look at me,” he pleads. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix this. I can’t deal with you mad at me, especially when I have no idea why.”

“There is nothing to fix, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on me, I’ll work myself through it and everything will go back to normal. I promise.”

“Damnit, Y/N! Would you just look at me already!”

You snap your eyes up to meet his, “there! Happy now?”

“No, as a matter of fact I’m fucking not!” He glares at you again. “Why are you being like this? What the hell happened? Just fucking tell me already!”

“You! You fucking happened, Steven!” You snap, glaring right back at him. The wall has finally crumbled, you can’t hold it in anymore, it’s all going to come out whether you like it or not. “You and your stupid perfection! And your dumb face! And—and this ridiculous fucking torch I’ve been carrying for you since grade fucking 7! I’m in love with you Steve, I always have been and the fact that you are marrying someone else is fucking killing me! I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can barely fucking breathe! My heart feels like it’s being crushed and—ARGH!” You yell the last part as your hands move to your head again, grabbing ahold of your roots and giving a few tugs as you spin around. You can’t face him right now. “So there it is, Steve! The whole fucking truth about why I’ve been avoiding you lately. That’s what you wanted to know so damn badly, isn’t it? How does knowing the real reason make you feel? Did my honesty ease your mind? Did it fucking fix things?”

“Y/N,” he says quietly, breathlessly, and you can here the shock in his voice. “I—I don’t,” he trails off.

Which causes you to groan loudly, shaking your head, “just forget it, Steve. Can you please just leave? I want to be alone. I need to be al—“

Your cut off by the motion of your body being spun around forcefully, yet gently. You spin so fast that you almost topple over, but two hands on either side of your face keep you upright. And then, out of fucking nowhere, Steve’s lips crash into yours.

To say that caught you off guard, would be an understatement. You must be fucking dead! Yup, you’ve died, clearly. Because there is no way in hell that Steve is kissing you right now! There just isn’t!

But yet, his lips feel so real. Too real. And just like that, you lose all train of thought, and you kiss him back with everything you have. Your arms slip around his waist, and one of his hands leaves your check to travel down and wrap around you. He pulls you closer and you comply, melting into him and deepening the kiss. His fingers dig into your hip, his forearm warming your lower back, and causing tingles to run up your spin.

But just as abruptly as it started, it stops. And not just that, Steve damn near jumps away from you as if you’re on fire. He takes a few large steps back, creating a vast space between you both.

“Shit,” he whispers under his breath, as he looks away from you. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He shakes his head and then his eyes widen, “Holy fuck, I’m getting married in a week. Literally getting married to Hailey in a fucking week.”

His eyes snap to yours, and the emotions in them make your heart clench even more. What have you done? “Look, Steve, let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? Let’s just act like this whole fucking night never fucking happened—“

“How can you expect me to just pretend like this never happened, Y/N? You just told me you’re in love with me! And we just fucking kissed, God d-damnit!” He stammers and starts to pace the width of your living room. He takes a deep breath, “Like what the hell, Y/N? You’ve had years to say all of this, and you pick right fucking now? A week before my damn wedding, to finally voice your feelings for me? Are you kidding me right now?”

Your nose flares at what he’s saying, because the fucking nerve on this asshole! “Are you kidding me right now?! Don’t pin this shit on me, Steven, I told you I couldn’t tell you! And you just kept fucking pushing! I tried to avoid you so that I wouldn’t say any of this to you, and what did you do? You showed up at my damn door demanding answers! I fucking tried so damn hard to keep it to myself. I did everything I could, to not ruin this friendship, or your big day with my stupid fucking feelings. You think I want to be in love with my best friend, who is getting married to someone else in a week?!” You scoff, crossing your arms, “Of course I fucking don’t. Give your damn head a shake.”

“I didn’t,” he snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head, before mumbling, “I can’t do this right now, Y/N, not yet, not like this. I ah, I’m sorry, I have to go.”

You want more than anything to stop him, to beg him to stay and to pick you, but what little dignity you have left won’t let you. You refuse to put yourself out there anymore. He wants to leave, than good fucking riddance! Don’t let the door hit you on the fucking way out!

“Yeah, I think that’s best,” you agree bitterly, seeing him purse his lips before nodding once then turning on his heel. A moment later you hear your door slam shut and at that very moment you collapse to the floor.

Everything you’ve felt over the last few weeks, months, years, all ripping out of you at once. And then on top of that, everything that happened tonight only adds more emotions to the mix. You’ve never cried this hard in your life, you can’t even bring yourself to stand up and go to your bed.

Shit, you can’t even manage the strength to get up onto your couch, which is only 3 feet away. So instead you curl up into a ball on your living room floor, and proceed to cry every last tear you have left.

You stay in this spot for a couple hours before you finally pick yourself up and drag yourself over to the window. Hoping and praying that the pain will go away soon, or will at least numb out enough to allow you to breathe normally.

But you know that won’t happen for a long time. This pain will stick with you for a while, and nothing you do or say will make it disappear. Nothing will make it go away, it’s taken root deep within you and you’ll carry it through life, along with you. Because Steve isn’t just some random guy, this isn’t just some silly crush. He’s your best friend, he’s the love of your life, and you hate him for it, but yet, you don’t.

Because I hate you, but I love you, and I wish you'd go away.

But I hate you, and I love you, and I wish that you would stay.

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

@caps-lockdown @boxofteenageideas @giggleberts @strawberry-gothchild @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @viarogers @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @cjhorseback @jessiedaeum @capricornprince118 @pinkleopardss @drayshadow @wiserebelpartypie @dark-night-sky-99 @patzammit @cs-please @troublermalik @anika-ann @wxstedhexrt @rynabarnesrogers

#au fanfiction #fanfiction #long post #long read #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #modern!steve rogers x reader #modern!steve rogers #modern!steve #modern au #Beautifully Unfinished #Part 7 #steve rogers au

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sunriserose1023 · 4 years

Text

Another Try [3]

SUMMARY: He was supposed to return the Infinity Stones. He used them instead. WORD COUNT: 2063 PAIRING: Steve Rogers x Female Reader WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES: Language, canon divergent, timeline delineation, explicit sexual content, canon-typical situations/injuries, more warnings will be added/removed as the series progresses

“You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?”

Steve raised his eyebrows as he looked across the gym at his best friend. God, Bucky looked fantastic. He looked … healthy. His hair wasn’t as long as it once had been, but it wasn’t short like it had been in the Forties, either. Steve watched as Bucky gathered it into his hands, pulling a hair tie off his wrist and tying his hair into a bun. His left arm was shiny, not the dark vibranium arm he’d gotten in Wakanda before the snap, but the same arm he’d had during their tussle when he was the Winter Soldier. Steve felt a twinge of pain deep in his gut when he thought back to that, when they’d fought and Bucky had shot him multiple times before they’d fallen into the water.

He wondered if they’d even had that fight in this timeline. It didn’t seem that way; Bucky was too … free here. Too comfortable in the compound.

Maybe that meant … he didn’t kill Howard and Maria?

Steve shook his head, making a mental note to research that along with everything else later, and Bucky tossed his metal arm out towards the door.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders, walking towards the pull up bars.

“Why not?” “Why n—the fuck you mean, ‘why not?’ Steven.”

Steve used his arms to lift himself up, lowering his body before lifting himself up again, settling into a rhythm. Bucky shook his head, moving to stand in front of the bar, head bobbing as he watched Steve move up and down.

“Seriously, though. What the fuck, man?”

Steve gave an exasperated laugh, shaking his head, dropping to the ground. He’d lost count, anyway. He brushed his hands off, laughing again when Bucky gave his shoulder a shove, nodding at his best friend as he spoke.

“Do you want to kiss her?”

Bucky made a face.

“No!” “Then why does it matter?”

Bucky blinked.

“Because, Captain America, you don’t go around kissing dames like that. Especially not in front of the team.”

“Careful, Buck. Your ‘40s is slipping out.”

Bucky had always had a tendency to dip into ‘40s slang when he got going, something that clearly hadn’t changed and made Steve smile. Bucky narrowed his eyes, and Steve’s smile widened. He leaned over and gripped Bucky’s flesh shoulder.

“Have I somehow tarnished your view of me? Did that kiss scandalize you, Buck?” “Get off me.”

Steve laughed as Bucky wrenched away from him. Bucky shook his head as he spoke.

“It’s not my fault you put off that star-spangled virgin air. It’s just … weird. You don’t show affection like that.”

Steve nodded.

“Maybe I’m gonna start.” “Why? Did something happen while we were gone?”

Steve sighed, walking towards the free weights. Bucky followed him, sitting on one of the benches while Steve picked up a couple seventy-five pound weights. He started lifting them, shaking his head.

“Nothing happened. I just … got my thoughts in order. Gained some perspective, I guess.” “Perspective.”

Steve nodded, inhaling each time he curled the weight up, exhaling when he relaxed his arm.

“What the fuck kind of perspective are you talking about, Steve?”

Steve sighed, setting the weights aside. He turned to straddle the bench he was sitting on, facing Bucky.

“I like her. I’ve liked her for a long damn time, and I ain’t done nothin’ about it.” “Why not?” “Because, as you so eloquently put it before, I’m Captain fuckin’ America.”

He shrugged.

“Everyone expects me to be so goddamn patriotic and pure all the time, and I’m just tired of it. Tony’s got Pepper. Nat’s got Clint. You’ve got … whoever’s bed you’re bouncing in this week—“ “Hey!”

Steve ignored the self-righteous exclamation, continuing to speak.

“Why can’t I have someone, too?”

Bucky was quiet, and Steve finally dragged his eyes from the ground to his best friend. Bucky was studying him, gray-blue eyes the slightest bit stormy, shaking his head.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yes.” “And nothing happened while we were gone?”

Nothing you need to know about, Steve thought. He shook his head.

“No.”

Bucky nodded, leaning back.

“So you just … want a girlfriend?” “Maybe. If she’ll have me.” “Don’t punch me. Do you really want a girlfriend or do you just need to get laid?”

Steve swung before he thought, Bucky easily catching his hand.

“I said don’t punch me!”

Steve narrowed his eyes and Bucky let go of his hand.

“I’m not trying to piss you off. I’m just genuinely curious. When was the last time you … ya know.” “We’re not having this conversation.” “Oh, come on!” “Nope. Not going there.”

Steve stood up, taking the weights back to their places, shaking his head as he started for the door. Bucky jogged after him.

“Has it at least been since you came out of the ice?” “Fuck you, Barnes!”

Bucky stopped in the middle of the floor, tossing his head back laughing when the door burst open and Sam, Clint, and Tony filed in. Steve raised an eyebrow and Sam stepped forward.

“Sorry, I held ‘em off as long as I could.”

Steve furrowed his brows, looking back to Bucky. Bucky shrugged, tossing out his metal hand.

“I didn’t get very far anyway. I’m stuck at does he want a girlfriend or does he just need to get laid?”

Tony’s eyes were on fire when he looked to Steve. Steve raised an eyebrow and Clint laid a hand to Tony’s chest.

“Easy.”

Steve stared at them and Clint sighed as he turned to face him.

“Look, as much as we’re dying to know what that was all about … some of us have a few … concerns.”

Steve raised his eyebrow again and Tony shook his head as he stepped forward.

“Not her. Go get any other woman on this planet, just not her.”

Clint sighed, muttering under his breath.

“Or we can just jump right in.”

Steve shook his head.

“What's going on?”

Tony stepped even closer.

“I get it. She’s gorgeous, she’s nice, she’s fun. But she … Steve we need her around here.” “What, you think I’m going to run her off?”

Tony didn’t answer, and Steve shook his head.

“I’m not going to fuck her and never call her again, Tony. I’m not—“ “Watch what you say next.” “Not cool.” “Don’t even go there.”

Steve closed his eyes and pressed his lips together at the chorus of voices that cut him off and overlapped. Steve sighed, looking them all in the eyes.

“I’m not in this just to get a quick lay. I’m not even thinking about me here. I don’t know why you’re all jumping all over me with the need to protect her, even though she’s probably stronger than all of us put together.”

The men exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. Steve shook his head.

“I’m not going to hurt her. I promise. I won’t run her off or put her in any danger. I just …”

I love her.

He swallowed, shaking his head again. Tony nodded, taking hold of the front of Steve’s shirt.

“If you hurt her, I will shove that shield places my father never intended it to be. Got it?”

Steve’s eyes widened and he nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Tony smoothed the shirt over Steve’s chest, patting it as he turned away. Clint cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest, lifting his chin to look Steve in the eyes.

“Ever had an arrow shot up your ass?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised and he shook his head. Clint nodded.

“Let’s keep it that way.”

Steve couldn’t stop the smile then, and Sam stepped up and gripped his shoulder, smiling at him.

“Just take care of her, alright?”

Steve nodded, and Bucky patted his back as he followed the rest of the men from the gym. Steve closed his eyes, lifting his head and letting out a long breath.

You paced around the conference room, shaking your head at every turn. Natasha was sitting in one of the chairs, feet propped up on the table, watching you with an amused look on her face. The two of you turned at the quiet knock on the door, and Wanda poked her head in.

“Jarvis said you wanted to see me?”

Natasha nodded.

“Come on in. Have a seat.” “What is going on?” “We’re just watching Y/N have a breakdown.” “I’m not having a breakdown.”

You muttered Russian curses under your breath and Natasha snorted as she rolled her eyes. She rolled her head to look at Wanda.

“We needed more estrogen in the room.”

Wanda slowly nodded, taking a seat a few chairs down from Natasha. You finally stopped pacing and turned to Natasha.

“Sex pollen.” “No.” “I’m putting off some pheromones only super soldiers are affected by.” “If that was true, Barnes would have jumped you long before now.” “Oh, good point.”

Natasha nodded, rolling her head to look at Wanda again.

“She got kissed by the Captain in front of God and everyone.” “Captain Rogers?”

Natasha nodded and Wanda sat up straighter. You groaned, shaking your head.

“There’s no … no. There has to be a reason.” “There is.”

You looked to Natasha and she shrugged.

“But you’re clearly looking for an explanation other than he wants to jump your bones.”

Yours and Wanda’s cheeks flushed and you shook your head.

“That’s not it.” “Then what is it? Because everything you’ve thrown out so far has been bullshit and you know it.”

You ground your teeth together as Wanda sank lower in her chair, a small smile playing at her lips as she watched you. Natasha uncrossed her ankles and spoke again.

“What’s so bad about that?”

You pushed a hand through your hair and sighed. You grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the table, sitting down across from Natasha.

“Nothing. Just … he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.” “What kind?” “A one night stander.”

Wanda hummed and both women rolled to look at her. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Captain Rogers does not strike me as a …” “One and done kind of deal?”

Wanda nodded at Natasha, who looked back at you. You shrugged.

“He does seem monogamous. Long-term relationship monogamous.” “The wife and the picket fence and the two-point-five kids.”

Natasha nodded as she began swiveling her chair back and forth as Wanda looked at her hands, speaking softly.

“Would that be so bad?”

Natasha went still, following your lead and looking to Wanda. Wanda shrugged her shoulders and met your eyes.

“You don’t think it would be … enjoyable?”

Natasha looked to you with a wide smile on her face, a smile playing at Wanda’s lips as your cheeks flushed. Natasha giggled in her chair, going back to swiveling.

“Go talk to him. See what’s up with him and if it’s something that might be up with you. Or in—“

“Nat, don’t.”

She giggled again, and you shook your head. You let out a breath, laying a hand against your fluttery stomach. Wanda cleared her throat.

“Just to clarify, you want to see what is up with him or not?”

You swallowed, then nodded.

“I do.” “Why?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“Because. Because he’s … kind. Smart. He’s funny, and he doesn’t really try to be. He’s a deep thinker, but he’s not above fighting dirty. He’s got such a sensitive soul, but he’s so strong and have you seen his arms? Or his face? Or—“

You stopped yourself, looking from a grinning Wanda to Nat, who looked very much like the cat that ate the canary. You felt your cheeks flush again and Natasha nodded, pulling her feet off the table and standing up.

“Go talk to him. And try not to fall into bed with him until he buys you dinner first.” “Screw you, Romanoff.” “No, no. It’s Rogers you want to screw. Not Romanoff.”

She cackled when you grabbed a pen off the table and threw it at her. She caught it in one hand on her way out the door, tossing it back to the table. You caught Wanda’s eye and she smiled at you, sliding back from the table and following Natasha out the door.

TAGS: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @chonkychornes, @sarcasm-myfriend, @patzammit, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @sallyp-53, @moodymcu, @angrybirdcr, @bellaireland1981, @brittanymcsharry, @free-2bmee, @laneygthememequeen, @iwritesmutsandfluff, @captain-rogers-beard, @geeksareunique, @ivoryhazlewood, @alexxcorona113, @iluvsumbucky, @readermia, @buckmecaptain, @jennmurawski13, @emmandhercoffecrisp, @geekysimmerthings, @deidrashouseofpain, @idjitmonkey, @peaceinourtime82, @fallenoutofrose, @anika-ann, @superavengerpotterstar, @nerdgirljen, @thefanficfaerie, @adaliamalfoy, @rinthehufflepuff, @fallenoutofrose

#another try series #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel reader insert #steve rogers x female reader #mcu reader insert #marvel au #mcu au #steve rogers fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers reader insert #mcu

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quinnhayden · 3 years

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so i know it's a What If/au thought right now (as far as you've let us know 👀) but while rereading kintsukuroi, i just keep thinking of sam joining the trio and the Potential Content,, , specifically just like sam, bucky, and quinn ganging up on steve with sweet words to see how flustered they can get him. or sam lowkey but actually highkey seriously flirting with them both just to get a rise out of bucky, only to flip the flirting onto him if he gets a reaction. i just really love sam wilson 🥺💙

FIRST OF ALL WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO LEAVE THIS SOFT SAM CONTENT IN MY INBOX AND THEN JUST LEAVE?!!!??

Secondly....,,,,...have some soft Sam and Quinn content from an abandoned AU of the trio adding Sam to the mix in Wakanda 🥺🥰

———————

As much as she needs it to, Quinn could run clear across Wakanda and it still wouldn’t help. It’s still there, under her skin. Buzzes and thrums and eats her up inside and she doesn’t know that she’ll ever escape this. Sometimes, she wonders about the real reason Steve took a swan dive in the ice. It tempts her, when she’s in the lake, to sink under the water and never come back up, suffocate what’s inside her. Naïve, she tried to brand it Fenrir, pretend it was this separate, rabid beast. She tried to quench the thirst with blood, but it still wants. It needs to move, it needs the violence, and it chafes at what she has here. It’ll never stop because it isn’t Fenrir. It’s Quinn.

This all makes her so ashamed. Too ashamed to be around her soulmates. It doesn’t matter that they’re both asleep. Well, she itches to move, but when she realized why she needed to move then that’s when the shame started up. So, she leaves their little plot and walks on the lake’s shoreline. Like this’ll help ease her mind. Whatever. Better to walk around than roll over, wake Steve up, and have him stare at her like she’s about to shatter.

Fish brush too close to the surface of the water and ripples disturb the moon’s reflection in the water. Fuck, she’s exhausted. Tired down to her bones. There is peace here. First time in decades, she can rest, so why doesn’t she want that? Why do her knuckles ache to be split back open, ache to clench, ache to be drenched in blood? The more she’s without the actual violence, the more it raises hell inside her. It claws at her throat, pokes and prods in her brain, and makes her feel too much like a feral animal.

Quinn comes to a stop. There’s someone else at the shoreline. Well, at a tree that’s close to the lake. She hesitates when he doesn’t call out to her or even nod toward her. He has a reason to be up at this hour and she thinks it’s not a nice one, so she decides to approach him.

“Sam?”

No response. Sam keeps quiet, like he doesn’t even know she’s there. Sure, she has enhanced senses, but the moon is round and full. He should be able to see her, enhanced or not. She walks in his direct line of vision, knows he can see her, but he still doesn’t move. Damn, he must be zoned out bad. It must’ve been a real bad dream. She crouches down and debates on whether she should do this or not, but…touch helps her a lot when she’s stuck in her own head. What’s the worst that could happen? He couldn’t hurt her all that bad if he happened to lash out on accident.

“Sam?” Quinn repeats quietly and reaches out to touch his bare shoulder. His skin is still slick with sweat. Thankfully, he only blinks and his attention snaps over to her. He tenses up underneath her hand, so she slowly pulls back. Puts a little distance between them. “Howdy,” she drawls with a little smile. Until he sends her away, she’ll sit with him and plops down there in front of him. “You here with me?”

“What—” is he confused about where he is? Does he not know what happened? He sucks in a shaky breath, rubs both his hands across his face, and then shakes his head. Tries to shake it off. She can taste his hesitation in the air, like he thinks about if he wants to lie to her. He breathes out slowly, his body relaxes, and he answers with a low, “Yeah, I’m back.” Then, he wipes away the sweat from his forehead, pulls his arm away, and scrunches his nose at it.

Quinn’s been around Sam when he had a bad dream, once or twice. All she ever did was help lull him back to sleep and when they woke up, he never talked about it. She thinks she should’ve made him. “You look like a man that could use a drink,” she decides on. She needs to make him talk to her but not pull his teeth out about it.

“You look like a woman that could use some sleep. A shower, too. Why the hell are you out this late?”

“Sam, at this hour, I think it’s considered early. Not late.” The news makes him moan in exasperation and she smiles wryly. “I was too wired to sleep. Didn’t want to lay around in bed, so I went on a run. Still ain’t sure why y’all hoot and holler so much about me bein’ alone. The worst I have to worry about here are panther attacks and I could handle that. Y’know, I’d like to see who’d win that, actually—me or the panther.”

Sam leans back on the tree and slumps while he chuckles. “They’ll probably throw you out of the country because you punched a national icon.”

“Good point. I’ll outrun it then. Steve doesn’t need two soulmates who caused an international disaster.” Classic diversion tactic, Wilson, to make this about her. Quinn’s not about to take the bait. She’s too much of an expert when it comes to this particular method. “So, you want to tell me where you went? Or are we not supposed to talk about it?”

“All the times you woke me up in the hotel room with your screams and wouldn’t talk to me about it, I think I’m allowed one,” he shoots back and it’s sharp, a little mean. He winces when he realizes it came out nastier than he meant. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

“Don’t tell me sorry. I know you didn’t mean it.” She’ll never take it personally. Hell, Sam is allowed this. He’s allowed a lot. He’s dealt with her shit—and Steve’s, too, since they spent so much time on the road with each other. “And I won’t make you talk about it, but you wouldn’t let me be alone when I wanted that. So, I won’t let you be alone, either.”

“You didn’t have a choice. We were trapped. There was literally no place you could’ve went.”

“Oh, trust me, I could’ve went anywhere else. I could’ve went on a run, went to swim at a pool, went to some bar or diner to eat…like I said, anywhere.” She waves around them more to motion that that’s what she’s up to now. She hopes he can’t see how nervous or uncomfortable it makes her to admit this.

Look, in order for Sam to be emotionally vulnerable with her, she has to show him that she can do it, too. He doesn’t have to deal with whatever this alone. Because…because…well, she didn’t comprehend this until now, but he is. Alone. Wanda…she won’t admit it, but she always books it to spend time with Vision more often than not. Natasha tends to spend her downtime with Clint because it’s not hard on her to become someone else. Quinn, Steve, and Bucky…as in a weird spot as they are, they all still have each other. Where’s that all leave Sam?

Jesus Christ, she and her soulmates are literally the most oblivious people on the planet.

While Quinn has a quick mental breakdown over how stupid she’s been, Sam apparently has his own epiphany. “All those runs in D.C or when we were stuck at a hotel—” he knocks his head back on the tree. Surely to God he doesn’t blame himself that he didn’t see this sooner. Honest, Quinn’s not really embarrassed that much by this. A run or a swim is a lot healthier way to cope than some of the dumb stunts she’s pulled in the past. “Man, I told myself you just really liked to run.”

“No one likes to run, Sam, especially at the ass-crack of dawn. Except maybe Steve…and even then, I still ain’t sure. I never really ask him why he does it. Bucky’s told me that, before the war, Steve never used to wake up that early. Steve says the army switched him around.” She picks at the grass between them. “Don’t take it so hard. It’s…half and half with me. Sometimes, I really am too wired to sleep. I think that’s the ADHD, I don’t know.” He raises a brow. Oh. Did she not tell him about that? Well, now he knows. “Other times, I need an out.”

“Now?”

She squirms uncomfortably, but she needs to be open. Show him that this is a two-way street—that she can trust him and he can trust her. “A little bit of both? I—” she needs to not be emotionally repressed. Just because she was born in the twenties doesn’t mean she has to act like it. “Don’t tell Steve and Bucky, okay?” He nods wordlessly and that helps her move on. “This is all I ever wanted, did you know that? When we were those three dumb kids back in a war, I wanted to have a place where we could settle down and love in peace. We have that now. For the first time in…in seventy years, we have peace. So, why do I have this itch under my skin that I can’t scratch? Why the fuck is all I think about when the next mission is? Why can’t I—why don’t I want the peace?”

“Honest opinion?”

“God, yes, Sam. You know I always want you to be honest with me.”

Sam pauses, thinks about how to explain it. “SHIELD learned you had a super soldier serum, knew that they wouldn’t ever have Steve back, and they made you Captain America.” She balks at that because…no. No. Other than the fact that she could never be Captain America, what she did on Hydra’s dime was not what heroes like Steve do. “Okay, not Captain America to you, but definitely Captain America to everyone else. Point is that you spent seventy years as a soldier. Maybe you took some time off here and there, but compared to Steve and Barnes, you never had a break in the ice. That messes a person up.” His voice lowers and he’s sad. It makes her hurt to hear him hurt and…that’s all for her. Why’s it for her? “They made you into a weapon as much as they made your boys one. I’m not sure you’ve known it any other way than this, Quinn.”

That…that really is a…a fair point. She never stopped to think about it like that. Still, “I’m—no, I don’t know how true that is. I…can someone be born with violence in their blood? Because my knuckles have been bloody since the day…some asshole pulled on my ponytail and called my pa names.” She runs a shaky hand through her hair. “At least it ain’t all me. I think Steve has this problem, too. Swear to God, I don’t know how you and Bucky deal with us.”

“Guess me and Barnes have a type—dumb blondes with hearts of gold and a chip on their shoulder. You’re both real pretty. That helps, too.”

Quinn’s really happy it’s dark out. Sam won’t be able to see how red her cheeks are. “Shut up.” The mood sobers when she remembers that this wasn’t supposed to be about her and he spun it around so that’s all it became. “Aw, Jesus, Sam, this wasn’t supposed to be about me. Stop takin’ care of everyone else, asshole. Tell me what’s on your mind for once.”

“I can’t lie and say I don’t remember what the dream was about, can I?”

“It don’t help that you admitted you want to lie to me. You couldn’t pull one over on me that easy, no how. Someone doesn’t check out the way you did over a dream they don’t remember.” She pauses and her heart breaks a little bit more. Everyone has bad dreams, she reasoned when Sam would wake her up with his, so she never pushed. He’s been such a rock that she never stopped to think how much he’s eroded under the pressure. “It…it ain’t always been like this, has it? Sam, how much has this happened to you?”

“It isn’t like I can call up my therapist and talk to him,” he shoots back. It’s hard not to react to that because she’s the reason he can’t do that. This isn’t about her and she turns her head to the side so he can’t see her expression. “No. Don’t do what Steve does, damn it. Don’t put this on you. I could’ve went with the Accords on my own, but I didn’t. This was all my own choice,” he makes sure to remind her. It doesn’t help, but she reels her emotions back in and looks back over at him. “It hasn’t been. This bad in a while, okay? Honestly. It hasn’t been like this since—” Riley, he doesn’t say, but he doesn’t need to. Oh. Oh. It all makes so much sense now. Yeah, she…she thinks she understands now. Sam was there, up close and personal, reached out to try and catch Rhodey, and watched him drop the same way he saw Riley drop.

There are times that words won’t help. Words can sound like pity and in situations like these, it’ll only feel like salt rubbed on an open wound. This is done. For now. He’s open and exposed and she won’t risk it to have him close back up. “C’mon, we both need to sleep a little.” She clambers to stand and reaches a hand out toward him. He cocks his head to the side. “What? I said I wouldn’t let you be alone and you’re tired, I can tell.”

“Yeah, you’re tired, too. You also have two soulmates to run back to.” He dismisses her with a wave. “Shoo. I can handle it on my own.”

He absolutely can and will not handle it on his own. Not anymore. Not while Quinn lives and breathes. “I do. You don’t. Since when has that mattered? This ain’t no different than all those motel rooms.” He doesn’t move and she puts her hands on her hips. “I can and will carry your ass.”

It almost seems like Sam is about to throw a hissy fit about this. He throws his arms up in the air, but he’s not exactly the scariest person out there. “You won’t take no for an answer, will you?” Now he understands. He’s always been quick to the uptake. She beams at him in triumph. “Fine. Whatever. Shit, you’re merciless.” Then, he takes her hand that’s still stretched out to him, and she helps him up to his feet. “Steve and Barnes won’t be worried?”

“Probably will be, but they won’t push about it. We’ve let each other have our space here lately. I’ve lived with Steve, but never with Bucky. Steve’s lived with Bucky and me, but never at the same time. Bucky’s only lived with Steve and he sometimes can’t even remember those days,” she explains as he leads her inside his hut. “I don’t think it’s been this awkward between us since—hell, since the day they told me they were my soulmates.”

Inside the hut, Sam motions toward the mat, the wordless ladies first. She smiles crookedly at him before she drops down on it and stretches out with a pleased moan. It becomes pretty obvious how much she’s worn herself out since she came back from the mission. Endless runs and swims with very little sleep. Oh, this isn’t her bed. How rude. She shimmies over until she’s made a spot next to her for Sam.

Compared to Quinn, who went and made herself at home, Sam is a lot tenser when he settles down on the mat. He’s situated on his back and stares up at the roof of the hut. At first, she thinks he’s so hesitant because he’s scared to have a bad dream, but this isn’t that. This…the air around them is awkward, not upset. She doesn’t know why the hell he’s so bent out of shape about this. It can’t be because of the whole soulmate deal. Steve and Quinn were married when the three of them went on that manhunt for two whole years, for fuck’s sake.

Determined to make him comfortable, she rolls over on her side and stares him down. Hopefully, she can scare him into comfort since he wants to be all stubborn about it. This shouldn’t be so weird, especially when he’s silently hurt and never told another soul about it. Hell, she wants to wrap an arm around his waist, press close and hold him, but she can’t push. Besides, she never deliberately did that before. Not like it’d really matter because they always ended up as spoons when they woke up in hotel rooms which is what’ll happen here. And, sure, physical contact tends to help her—and Steve and Bucky—out, but it may not help everyone else.

Then, thank the Lord, Sam drops whatever he has held on to. The tension bleeds from his body and he rolls over to face her, too. A little bitchily, he asks, “You always have your way in the end, don’t you?” She cracks up and it’s an infectious sound because he starts to laugh with her. “God, I hate you. You tried to spin me that shit about how it’s all Steve with the apple pie charm.” His voice pitches up with an overdramatic drawl as he says, “Oh, Sam, Steve’s the one with the face no one can resist. Not me, no, sir. Not me at all.” The tone drops back down to normal. “Bullshit, Quinn. Bull-fucking-shit.”

“Yeah, I know. I know, Sam. Got me. I’m a dirty rotten liar and I always get what I want.”

———————

Both Sam and Quinn wake up, near exact the same time, and she can’t tell that it’s not her and her alone that’s shocked. Because they slept. The sun’s position up in the skies means it must be near noon, so…they slept hours. She don’t sleep like the dead, not how she used to, so she would’ve known if he’d woken up at some point to roll over or had another bad dream or whatever. He didn’t. She knows she didn’t, either. They slept completely undisturbed. That…hasn’t happened to her in…a while. With his arm wrapped around her waist, his whole body curved around hers, she probably would’ve drifted back off if she wasn’t so blown away by the fact that she slept so much. Holy shit. It probably won’t ever happen a second time, but fuck. It’s nice to wake up and be so rested.

Sam seems more than happy to sleep some more since he pulls her closer. His breath is hot on the back of her neck and he buries his nose in her hair, breathes deep. She’s a furnace, she knows. Everyone that sleeps in the same bed as her loves that. “Better let Steve and Buck know I wasn’t murdered by a panther,” she explains and he snorts in response. “Don’t be a stranger, Sam. We’re not that far away.” As she leans to sit up, she squeezes his shoulder one last time. Sam seems more than happy to roll over onto his other side and sleep some more. She smiles fondly at him one last time before she stands up and heads out. ———————

No surprise, both Steve and Bucky are up, awake, and…somewhat active. Bucky’s active, anyway. Quinn never would’ve expected that Buck would take to the farm life as well as he has. It makes a little sense, now that she thinks about it. This is productive and this work won’t bloody up his hands. Good comes from this. Sometimes, if he’s a little too wild in the eyes and there’s no work to be done on their land, he’ll head over to help the locals out in any way they need. She’s happy that he has a purpose here. It’s nice to see his eyes crinkle, nice to see his smile, nice to see him bask in the warmth and safety this place provides them…

Lord, how did she make it as many years as she did without him and Steve? No idea. Wait. No, she does know. Family. She had family to help take care of her when her boys couldn’t. Sam should have the exact same because he doesn’t have an option to see his family. She stops, so wrapped up in her head, but then stops and stares at the second hut that she and Steve have started to sleep in.

Huh. Now, there’s an idea.

Just maybe…oh, but she’d need to talk to Steve and Bucky before she thinks about this any more than she already has. Okay, she would probably only need to talk to Bucky because Steve would, without a doubt, be absolutely on board with this. She doesn’t think that Bucky would deny her what she wants if she bats her lashes at him, but then comes the issue of where they would sleep. Damn it, no, she’s ahead of herself. Talk first, plan later. Because she loves and respects her soulmate, she will not follow her usual mantra of: it’s better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.

As Quinn slowly approaches Bucky, she notices that Steve is down by the lake, slumped under their own tree, and he’s asleep. “I think there must be part-cat somewhere in him because all he’s done since we’ve been here is soak up the sun and sleep.”

“Go easy on him. I made him do your work.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” he interrupts softly. His attention keeps on the work at hand, but he casually asks, “So, where were you? You’re back earlier than this, even when you run.”

“I did run, but I stopped to visit Sam. We talked and I crashed there a little bit. Even had a nice nap,” she explains.

“You slept all that time?” She nods wordlessly and he turns back to his work. “Wilson, huh?”

#Bucky and Steve just coming up with dumb ideas on how to seduce Sam #and Quinn is here like “how the FUCK did you two manage to seduce me?’’#I FUCKING LOVE SAM WILSON #I WILL SCREAM IT TO THE HEAVENS #AND THE TRIO LOVE HIM TOO #GIVE ME MORE SAM CONTENT #my fic #sam x trio

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rogue-barnes-16 · 5 years

Text

YOU'LL LEAVE TOO

Summary: The aftermath of Thanos and the snap left the Avengers destroyed, and one by one, they leave the compound in order to find themselves. Natasha realizes everyone would eventually leave her behind, so she does her best to make things easier for Y/n.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Genre: angsty

Tags:

Natasha Romanoff: @5aftermidnight

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl l @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms s @pizzarollpatrol l @bubblycypress87 7 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack k @butifulsoul125 5 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language, angsty shit

A/N: ——————

"New Asgard?" I questioned, looking at Thor quite confused. "That sounds... Kinda difficult." I stated, resting against the wall as he picked up his things.

"It will be, but I have the help of my people." he stopped his motions and a blank stare emerged from the depths of hid mourning. "or what is left of them..."

In that moment, Natasha showed up, bringing with her five dishes for us to be able to serve whatever she had been cooking a few minutes ago. "Where are you going?"

"Norway." I replied with my arms crossed, observing how the redhead slowly put the dishes down on the table. "gonna fund New... Asgard."

"Oh..." a sad look made its way to the blond woman. "Uh... Would you need help? We could lend a hand."

"It will be alright." Thor replied, politely turning down Natasha's offer. "I have Brunnhilde there." he grabbed his things gave us both a hug. "I will come visit as soon as I can."

Natasha formed a small smile, which suppressed her melancholy, in order to give Thor a nice goodbye.

As he left, I peeked, concerned, at the woman besides me, who hugged her arms staring at the dishes with lost eyes. "I'll put one back."

"Make it two." I mumbled. "Rhodey's staying in California for another month."

Natasha nodded, retired the pair she had been told to, and walked away in complete silence.

I exited the stance right after her, and made my way to the open concept kitchen, just to find Natasha sitting in one of the stools with her chin laid on her intertwined knuckles, her elbows resting over the counter.

"Nat..." as soon as she heard my soft whisper, she wiped away the tears I didn't notice that had started to be spilled from her green eyes.

"Yeah?" she looked over her shoulder to face me.

My first intention was to ask her if she was okay, but that question had already been answered, so I walked over to her and placed both my hands over her shoulders, squeezing them softly. "I'll set the table, go to the couch and chill there for a while, alright?"

One of her hands went up to grasp one of mines, her head slightly tilted to that same side as she nodded. "Alright." She lifted her gaze to stare at me, to which I responded with the warm smile she needed. "Thank you, Y/n."

I dismissed her gratitude with a shake of my head, switching places with her, and due to the sadness I was so bad trying to hide, I almost missed the way her hand briefly brushed mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was sketching Steve while he was working, when Natasha came into the room, chatting with Bruce.

"If you ever need anything," she started, handing him the bag he had left in the facility the day he had moved out.

"I won't hesitate on telling you, I promise." Bruce finished with a bittersweet smile on his face. "take care Nat."

Steve and I both waved him goodbye; Natasha just stood still, her arms crossed, for a couple of seconds before grabbing her ballerinas and leaving to train.

"She's doin' it again." Steve stated concerned in low voice, his gaze leaving the laptop for an instant to observe the door through which Natasha had walked away.

"Can you blame her, though?" I questioned rhetorically, my eyebrows raised at the blond man in front of me.

"You should check on her." Steve suggested. "she opens up with you more than with me." he explained before I could even formule a single question about why should it be me.

"Don't think she needs to open up." I replied, redirecting my attention back to the sketch. "She's gonna miss him, just like she misses Tony, just like she misses Rhodey and Thor." I placed the pencil over the sheet of paper and took a second before saying the following words. "just like we miss 'em all."

Steve let his face fall on his hands in defeat as that dreadful silence reigned in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'll keep some things here, though." Steve informed us, picking up the car keys from the table. "If you don't mind, of course."

"don't be an idiot, will you?" Natasha spoke with a half smile on her face. Steve chuckled and pulled her into a side hug before she pecked his cheek. "Take care, Steve."

It took us a hot second to even move from our original positions after our blond friend had left our so-called home to move to an apartment in Brooklyn, when he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt and the regret echoing through the immense halls and countless stances.

Natasha was the first one to leave the room, numbly grabbing her ballet shoes to make her way down the hallway to reach the gym.

I was just not as fast, but soon i decided to follow that advice Steve had given me not so long ago and go check on her. Maybe she really didn't need to open up about anything, maybe she only needed a shoulder to cry on.

Assuming that Natasha would have already started a routine, I didn't rush to reach the gym at all. However, to my surprise, when I got to the entrance, I was greeted with the view of the woman sat on a bench,sniveling while hugging her sides, the ballet shoes on and her two-toned hair covering her face.

Whatever I had been holding inside was triggered by that sight, and flooded out in the form of painful tears that seemed to burn my skin. "Hey..." she only shook her head shortly, yet vigorously, as I approached her. "Hey." I repeated, kneeling in front of her, my hands holding both her cheeks. This time she did look at me trough bloodshot eyes that most likely mirrored mines. "It'll get better, I promise." She sniffed and I pulled her into a hug, which acted as a perfect substitute for the kiss I was dying to give her. "You still have me here, and I'm not leaving alright?"

She nodded, burying her face on my neck, where I felt a feather kiss. "Damnit, I was dying to get rid of you." Her voice was weak but playful as she pulled away. "You're a pain in the ass." I chuckled, brushing my thumb over her cheek to wipe her tears as she did the same with mines, lovingly. "But you're my pain in the ass, right?" Her hand rested over my cheek, her green eyes flickering to my lips before coming back to mines, desperately looking for the answer she needed to her question.

"Damn sure I am." I replied, getting up with my eyes fixed on her. "Were you gonna start a routine?" I questioned, running my fingers through her hair as she leaned in to rest her forehead against my stomach, nodding as a response to my inquiry. "I'll braid your hair." She mumbled a 'thank you' whilst letting her hands linger on my outer thighs just a little bit more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late night when I noticed Natasha was no longer on the other side of the bed, her place to sleep for a couple of months by now.

I looked for her first in the gym, then outside, in the rooftop garden where she would sometimes go. After not finding her there, I decided to make my way had become her office. Maybe Rhodey or Okoye called, or maybe Carol and Rocket had updates on anything.

She was all alone, sat in her chair.

"What's wrong?"I asked, resting against the doorframe.

"You'll leave too." she stated, trying too hard for that beautiful smile of hers to stay in her face while she looked at me, which she wasn't being able to achieve. "and that's alright."

"Nat please, please don't cry." I begged, leaving the door frame in order to reach her sitting on the chair. "why- I'm not leaving, I promise, please don't cry."

"God I'm sorry." she took a deep breath in order to calm herself down. "I promise it's alright, you gotta get yourself a life, it's just late and" she scoffed, rapidly wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I think I'm having a mental breakdown" she tried to laugh it off but I was too concerned to fall into laugh with her, no matter how contagious that melodic sound was. "I promise it's alright, Y/n."

"I'm not leaving you." I replied, kneeling in front of the redhead when she slowly shook her head, averting her eyes from me. "Natasha, why on earth would you say that."

"I'm just trying to make it easier for you." She replied, shrugging. "I don't want you to feel bad, I'll get by just fine." tears were spilled again, jumping off her bottom eyelids. "I promise." her breath was ragged, and my eyes were getting watery. "I'm sorry for keeping you here all this time, I really am." She shook her head, her lower lip quivering and her eyes shut.

"Nat–"

"I'm so sorry..."

"Natasha, please, look at me." I lifted her chin, obliging her to stay eye to eye with me. "You're not making me stay." I brushed her hair off her face and said fuck it to second guessing my words about my feelings. "I'm staying because I love you, because you make this feel home even if it really isn't, I'm staying because everything feels less awful when I'm with you, because-"

I completely missed the hopeful glimpse in her eyes before she, as fast as a lightning, threw herself off the chair, her lips attaching to mines in a kiss that, despite the innocence it carried, took my breath away.

"I love you... I love you love you." She whispered, her eyes closed and her forehead resting against mine, now both of us kneeled on the floor.

"Yeah?" I questioned, intertwining my fingers with hers as she nodded slowly. "I love you love you too."

"I know, dumbass." She replied with a smirk on her face that I could see after I pulled away. "That's why I kissed you." I shook my head with a smile on my face, wiping my tears away. "Are you stayin?"

I raised my eyebrows. "You're such an oblivious idiot when it comes to me, Romanoff." I stated, getting up and pulling her with me. "Let's get some sleep alright?"

"Alright." She answered. Holding my hand and pecking my lips before following me back to our room.

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