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frostironfudge · 1 year

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I Need You To Listen - Steve Rogers

Summary: For @the-slumberparty 's Week 3 Something New Challenge, I went with the medium mode - sex pollen but with exes to lovers. This took alot of work I ended up rewriting it entirely, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 7.4k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, angst, smut, fluff, sex pollen, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, love bites, steve rogers dirty talking (this man), swearing, nipple play, past is in italics, sort of a post civil war rewrite so we're going completely off canon

Main Masterlist || AO3

Fate works in the most hilarious of ways, a stubbed toe over here and a broken heart still being nursed over there.

Tony Stark stands in front of your cell, staring at you through the glass. You don’t hold back your tears from him. Disappointment colours his features.

Broken pieces of trust lay scattered on the floor. The damage by him was done. Leaving you to bear the brunt. Leaving you to walk on the jagged edges of the broken family.

A family that shared jokes, laughed, drank and protected each other.

Won together.

Lost together.

In the past few days died together.

“How are you holding up?” His arc reactor gleams as he takes a seat on the stool. Unzipping the jacket he wears his arm in a sling. You close your eyes, more tears fall at the memory of the fight. An involuntary shiver as the chiling bite of the cold manifests itself from your memory.

The cell isn’t uncomfortable. There is a cot in the corner, the bathroom has a door. The sterile scent of the cleaning agent stopped giving you a headache hours ago.

“Why are you asking me?” You look at him, he should be mad, he should yell, call you a traitor.

“Contrary to what you all think and did to me, I trust you.” He shrugs, left eye twitching, he rolls his shoulder.

“How is the arm?” Your gaze falls to it.

“Seen better days. You know, heart troubles.” He looks at Wanda’s cell, “Kid, Vis is asking about you.”

She looks up at him, “Is Rhodes alright?”

Tony presses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head.

Wanda looks down at her hands.

“He tore us apart. That Baron Zemo. I know you have a lot to learn, alot to grieve. The accords may be dissolved. I’m working on it. At SI we’re preparing the bail documents.” He informs you all.

Sam scoffs, “What about Cap and Barnes?”

“James is in recovery as per my last conversation with T’Challa. Where Cap and Nat are I do not know nor does he.” Tony gazes back at you.

“I trusted him.” Is all you can say to him. You stare at your palms, you couldn’t get the blood off.

“I know, I did too.”

“Tony.” Your lips quiver another sob at the heartbreak Steve left you with to deal. All alone.

Bucky fights Tony, you don’t want to see your best friend hurt. The man who took you under his wing when you joined in, your steps halted by the blonde haired man who harbours your heart.

“Sign the accords.” Steve orders, you gape at him.

“Steve, do you fucking realise? We’re here because I didn’t sign them because I am siding with you?” You almost yell. The tempreture drops as the snow cascades into the facility from the now broken windows.

Bucky lands on the floor, a pained groan, his arm blasted off. He kneels, eyes widened at the implication. At the man he hurt irreparablely being the one to take away one of the curses HYDRA bestowed upon him.

“Shit!” Your eyes move to Tony, slowly he rises from the floor. The suit broken in several places.

“Y/N, you need to listen. You cannot go rogue with me.”

“Steve,” You push his arm away you had to intervene.

“It was good while it lasted.” He says and everything turns to static.

“Wh-what?”

“Look, I, we had a good run but I know your stance on the accords you’re just with me for the sole reason we’re together.” Steve says to you.

“Are you serious right now?” Anger courses through you, your grip on your pistol tightens.

“It's not even the accords. I, I didn’t think we would make it beyond this month. Look, I have to think about Bucky. Its all of this, it doesn’t, priorities.” He lunges over to defend Bucky leaving you defenceless. Your ears ringing, you watch as they fight, you can’t hear any of the clangs the groans.

You stand there dumbfounded.

As Steve throws Tony down the beam reflects off of his shield and hits you on the shoulder you’re thrown against the wall. Bucky meets your eyes, at least he seems apologetic.

Tony tries to get up to help you, “Rogers, she’s hurt—,” The shield slams against the arc reactor.

“I don’t care.” He says so easily.

You pant as the pain increases, both the burn and sting of his words as well as the physical injuries manifesting across you.

Steve helps Bucky up, you try to push yourself to your knees, crawling to Tony while keeping your arm close to your body.

Bucky looks back at you, his eyes convey his remorse. Tony breathes hard, you blink back tears at the glance Steve doesn’t spare towards you.

Eight months down the drain.

The morning kisses, cuddles, the random sketches of you he left as gifts all lose their importance. Remembrance only causes pain.

“Mr. Stark, you need to leave.”

Tony sighs, “I’ll visit, or I’ll have you guys out before that. Work some arrangement.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You look at his arm and back at his face.

He gives you one of those sad smiles of his, the one where he pretends it's just another day, another common thing.

“Aren’t you foolish to trust us again?” Sam questions him as Tony passes by his cell.

“I just have to do my job. It’s the people who have to trust us.” Tony turns to face Sam.

“So the people trust the missile maker millionaire Stark?” Sam knows the jab is stinging, Tony hated

that about the company’s past.

The rift was ever present, your friend looks towards you.

“Y/N, let him know not to insult me, I’m a billionaire.” He grabs his glasses and moves away.

You resist the urge to laugh, everyone would resort to their coping mechanisms. You’d have to bide your time here. Usually getting black out drunk was how you solved your own problems.

True to his word Tony has you all released on various conditions. You, Scott and Wanda are released together.

When you reach the tower it isn’t surprising that there was a break in, you’d scoff that Steve didn’t come to break you out but he made his decision in Siberia.

The faint scent of his cologne lingers in your room. Hints of Patchouli and Bergamot. You stare at the box on your bed.

Opening it reveals a burner phone.

“I got a burner too, one number loaded upon it.” Tony stands at the door holding a glass of scotch for himself and your favourite Vodka in a bottle.

“Surprised he bothered.” You open the phone and it chimes an unread text upon it.

“I didn’t get that.” He observes, you take the bottle from him.

Opening the text.

SGR: I want to talk to you. Please let me explain.

You laugh bitterly, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip. At least you can blame these tears on the alcohol.

“Are you going to? Call him I mean.” Tony settles on your desk chair.

“Nope.” You set your bottle down after three more sips, grabbing the edges of the opened flip phone you press. The phone snaps from its hinges and you place it back down in the box, “Did you track it?”

“Fake return address.” He twirls the ice in his drink.

The two of you bask in the silence. Drinking in tandem and out of sync.

“Were you going to sign the Accords?” You ask after a while staring at the setting sun.

“Nope,” He reaches for your bottle, pouring himself a peg, “I was having them redrafted. Steve only had to agree for them to shut up. My draft would have gotten approved.”

“So confident.” You raise your brows.

“Comes with the job title.” He rolls his eyes.

“Do you think anyone will trust anyone?” You tap the bottle neck.

Steve’s laughter reverberates against your chest. He reaches up to cup your face.

“Why is it so amusing?” You ask, not meeting his eyes.

“Because it is, Poppet. I wouldn’t break your heart.” He assures yet again.

You gnaw at your bottom lip trust was difficult to come by for you.

“You want to know why?” He whispers, making you meet his gaze. His nose brushing against your own.

“Because I have your heart and it's what is keeping me alive.”

You lean closer, pressing your lips to his, Steve kisses you back. Hands pulling you closer. You feel his smile between the kisses and you begin to retract knowing what he was upto but it’s too late.

Steve tickles your sides and laughter blubbers from your chest. He grins, cheeks flushed as you press against him. The thin sheet hides nothing from the way you feel.

“I love you.” He says, you stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“I loved him with everything in me.” You blubber out, tears falling down.

Tony sits next to you, your head rests on his good shoulder, “I know you did. It's a hard road ahead, kid. Not an undoable one.”

“I hate him.” You declare, “I hate him, he just, how could he be so selfish?”

“Sometimes we all are, he is in the wrong. He didn’t exactly reciprocate the trust.” Tony sighs, you look up at him.

“I’m sorry about your parents.” You watch him give you those sad smiles, he flexes and extends the fingers of his left hand.

“He could have told me, I trusted him enough that he could.” He whispers then shakes his head.

“Steve Rogers is an asshole.” You declare raising your bottle to his assholery. Then you giggle.

“You just thought of the word assholery didn’t you?” Tony giggles as well.

Both of you burst out laughing.

“Hey Tone?” You ask mid laughter.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here, also can I get a box?”

“Sure.” He stands, FRIDAY has the box led by one of his tinkered bots to the room.

“I need to check on Rhodey.” He says, “I’m a call away okay?”

You nod, he leaves. The box stays on your bed and then you stare at the sketches hung around your room. With a delicateness that Steve didn’t spare towards you, you pack up the papers. Sealing the box with plastic wrap and head down to the safety deposit lockers.

Your steps are misjudged and you drop your box of trinkets several times. The stupid ceramic mug from that couples pottery class probably shattered.

You giggle thinking how it resembles your heart.

Locking the box leaves you in silence. Your room is void of all things Steve except the one shirt he gave you on your first mission together where the two of you fell into the muddled waters that left the two of you in need to change out of clothes.

The shirt smells like him, you curl up with it on your pillow.

“This is the last time you gave your heart away.” You tell yourself.

“This is the last time you cry over him.” You promise yourself.

Eight months pass and you all sit in the conference room. The accords are abolished. They reinstate Natasha, Sharon, James, Sam and him. Tony holds his flip phone. Resorting to texting rather than speaking to him.

A reply comes when you all are back at the tower. They’d be there tomorrow. Rooms are prepared with favourite foods stocked up. You had requested your room be shifted away to another level.

Heart ache didn’t manifest beyond those few nights.

Your walls that Steve Rogers broke down were built back stronger. Impenetrable. His shirt was placed in his room by you a month into getting over him.

You don’t pass by the floor, you’re a level above. Thankfully the elevators divide the levels they service and you won’t ever be on the same floor as him.

The night is restless despite your indifference to all of them. They were the family you chose and yet you were abandoned by them.

Dreams are but a loop of memories you have buried.

After your morning laps you head to Tony’s lab.

“They will be dropping in at SHIELD first. Fury wants to discuss some things and then they come back here.” He stifles a yawn.

“You need caffeine my friend.” You hold up the coffees, “Luckily I come bearing gifts.”

“I love you.” He whispers gingerly while taking the cup.

“Are you talking to the coffee or me?” You ask, taking a sip of your own.

“I can love both.” He defends, whispering to the coffee he loves it more.

You throw one of his discarded paper balls on him. It doesn’t phase him.

“Are you sure you want to come along?” He asks for the umpteenth time on the drive to SHIELD.

“Tony, I will leave you behind if you ask me again.” You glare at him.

“I think you will be fine.” Vision assures a gentle smile on his face and he laces his fingers with Wanda. She smiles at him, her own mind filled with thoughts.

“See we’ll be okay.” You declare.

Minutes later you’re seated on one side of the conference room. Tony on the first seat, you on the second. Vision opts to stand behind Wanda as she sits.

Fury sits at the head of the table. The door opens and Natasha, Sam and Steve step into the room. A thick silence settles over. You look at each of them and then back at Fury.

Natasha’s hair is shorter and blond, Sam seems to have gotten leaner. Steve was sporting a beard and longer hair.

You wondered if the post break up look was something you should have gone for, maybe dyed your hair blue.

“Well, as you know you all have been reinstated. The Avengers operate without any Accords binding them but they must be mindful of their poweress and the possible damage they may cause. A country has full discretion to forbid the Avengers from subduing threats that may lead them there and you must honour that no matter the cost.” Fury gazes at you all.

“What if they need help?” Steve questions, you scoff.

Cold blues flash to you. You roll your eyes.

“The dissolution of the Accords was done keeping this one rule in mind. I suggest you make peace with it. You will not be able to save everyone from damage and hurt, it is better than causing it.” Tony adds.

Steve’s jaw tightens. He nods.

“Now since this is done and dusted. Official missions may resume.” Fury places down a manila folder.

“Official?” Sam questions, raising a brow.

“Agent Y/L/N here was liasoning with us for recon purposes. Kept under wraps. We have identified HYRA bases. Once the plans are sanctioned you all will be back on duty.” Nick sighs, “I suggest you all train together to get a sense of your skill sets and moves again.”

No one nods.

Nick shakes his head leaving the room.

“Your old rooms have been cleaned at the tower. Access is via FRIDAY, food is stocked. Layout’s almost the same. Few changes here and there. Oh and there are new succulents in the living room.” Tony fiddles with the folder.

“We can conduct a meeting about these missions tonight or tomorrow. You all settle in, there is a car outside and your vehicles are in pristine condition at the garage.” He informs them further.

“No welcome back party?” Nat muses, you laugh.

“I drank all the liquor so unfortunately no parties.” You deadpan.

Nat and Sam stare at you.

“It has been a difficult few months. I understand everyone will take time to return to a semblance of previous normalcy.” Vision’s words are both reassuring but also farfetched.

Wanda grasps his hand and gives it a squeeze.

Steve’s brows furrow in worry. He observes you trying to find any hints but you give him none. You learned to school yourself. An agent well versed in hiding her intent, emotions and aim. Your skillset is what brought you to the team and it is what you have. It's what you could trust.

Sam nods, “Well best we head back.”

“Yes we could use some sleep.” Natasha says, you flash her a smile.

“Yep, well I have a few things to discuss with Fury.” You push away from the table first. Tony follows your lead.

“Should you not include us in the conversation?” Steve says in his authoritative baritone.

“Unfortunately, Captain, it isn’t an Avengers matter but a personal one. Which you aren’t entitled to know.” You spit back.

His mouth opens again to speak.

Tony beats him to it, “Where’s our Manchurian candidate?”

“Bucky’s in the UK for a bit, after Wakanda we were there for a while. He stayed back for personal reasons.” Steve explains and you slip out.

Steve stares at your room door, knocking on it yet again. Two weeks since his return and you had avoided him in every capacity.

He had worked up the courage to knock on your door today. But there was no response as it was over the past fifteen minutes. He requests FRIDAY to check in and all the AI says is that you’re fine.

You had gotten back from a mission yesterday morning. You had to have been resting.

“Why won’t she open her door then?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to your door, “Poppet, I just want to speak to you. Please.”

“Captain.” Vision greets floating out of Wanda’s room.

“Vision.” He acknowledges.

“Why are you knocking on an empty room’s door?” Vision tilts his head.

Steve blinks at him, “This is Y/N’s room.” he states as if obvious.

“It isn’t, she switched rooms about three months ago.” Vision says

Before Steve can ask anything further, Wanda opens her door, “Vis.” She gestures with her hand for him to return.

“Wanda.” He walks to her this time.

“FRIDAY, where is Y/N’s new room?” Steve questions walking to the elevators.

“She’s on the twenty-fifth floor.” The AI responds, he switches to the other elevator.

“Captain, you will have to go to the ground floor to switch elevators.” FRIDAY informs him.

Steve sighs moving back in front of the original elevator. It stops at every single floor; he almost misses the elevator as you’re getting on, luckily a Stark Industries employee holds the door for him.

You bite the inside of your cheek. Looking away.

“I want to talk.” He says over the all too silent but crowded elevator.

Everyone looks at him except you. They follow his gaze to you.

“I don’t.” You answer while staring at the numbers.

“Poppet.” He says and you shoot him a glare before looking away again.

People trickle in and out.

Steve’s gaze is trained upon you. He nods politely at those greeting him but his gaze nerver strays from you.

You look into your phone pulling up a forgotten game loaded into the device. Anything. Any stupid thing to avoid him.

Finally it's just the two of you.

The automated air freshener hisses filling the space with the scent of lavender.

“Poppet I just want to explain—,” Steve steps closer, his hand outstretched.

“No. I don’t fucking want to hear a word.” You seethe, you move forward pressing the button to your floor if it makes you reach quicker.

“Poppet.” He grabs your hand, turning you towards him.

“Y/N. Use my damn name.” You spit out, finally meeting his eyes.

There is a tick in his jaw, he nods, “Y/N. Just five minutes. I know I don’t deserve it—,”

“You don’t deserve to even ask for a minute of my time. You never saw us work beyond that month correct? Well guess what? We don’t.” You push at his chest, he doesn’t budge.

“I lied. I said those things so you wouldn’t follow. I could not have you living rogue with me.” Steve admits, you stare at him.

“You lied?” You repeat.

“I didn’t want to break things off but that was the only way I could ensure you wouldn’t follow behind me. It was dangerous. Poppet—Y/N,” he corrects, “I told you your heart kept me alive, I love you—,”

Steve’s head snaps to the side, cheek turning red at the impact of your slap. You breathe hard, eyes tearing up.

“That was not for you to fucking decide, you do not get to come back here and make your sorry excuses for being a horrible human being. Betraying my trust. Leaving me and your friend injured. You picked Bucky over us. You picked Bucky over me and I understand I would pick him too if I were you. But I would not fucking lie or leave my girlfriend and best friend behind injured horribly. You’re welcome back to the compound Steve. Even back to your glorious Captain America title. However,”

The doors open to your floor, you step out.

“I don’t know how you say you’re alive because I took my fucking heart back from your undeserving self. I don’t care if you lied, I don’t care if it was all fun and games. I don't care about you. I don’t want to care about you. You are a teammate because I am forced to consider you one. I don’t need to listen to you to provide you closure or a second chance. You fucking liar!”

“Poppet,” Steve reaches for you again, you take off running to your door.

“FRIDAY, deny access. Override only with Tony.” You order, the locks on your doors bolt and Steve keeps knocking and pleading.

He sinks to his knees outside your door apologising over and over.

Natasha is pinned to the floor by Wanda as the latter grins triumphantly. Natasha praises her and they break apart. You take Wanda’s place and Sam takes Natasha’s place.

Mixed training was now mandatory.

You had almost burned Nick Fury with your glare. Steve hadn’t shown up to any, in fact he hardly was in the same room as you.

Sam goes full offence, you block the blows. Defending yourself you had worked hard over the time away from official duties.

Minutes pass by, neither of you yields. Panting you stare at Sam waiting for an opening to take him down.

“Come on, that's all you got, little spy?” Sam teases, you laugh.

“You wish birdy.” You stick your tongue out childishly. Wanda and Nat laugh.

“Come on Wilson.” Nat prompts, “We’re bored here.”

“Alright,” Sam moves, pulling a fake. You catch it a moment too late, as he’s about to tackle you to the ground you turn. Tugging on his arm as Sam’s eyes widen.

The momentum thrown off both of you land on your sides, recovering swiftly he’s pinned to the ground by you.

You grin at him.

“How's that birdy?” You laugh at his irritation. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Y/N.”

Everyone’s heads snap to the door, Steve and Tony stand there.

You help Sam up. Sam keeps an arm around your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger and his fists clench.

Sam takes his arm away.

You roll your eyes, they land on Tony as he bites his cheek, oh this can’t be good you deem.

“Wheels up in an hour for Rogers and you.” He delivers the news.

“Sam, Nat, Vis and Wanda are needed to take on a bigger base with Tony.” Steve looks at you, “Fury’s orders before you try to whine your way out if it.”

You glare at him, “Alright.”

An hour later you’re on the jet with Steve. He doesn’t talk. The last conversation between the two of you was enough.

“We won’t be splitting up.” Steve informs you. You nod, studying the layout.

You frown in recognition.

“I was here on recon. This is supposed to be a dead base.” You look up at him.

“Fury said they detected activity.” He looks back ahead.

“Hopefully it's just random people looking for shelter.” You look back at the plans.

Steve hums, observing you again. Wishing it would be like before where the two of you would be holding hands.

Cobwebs litter the walls, plaster cracked. The scent of something decaying permeates through the space.

Walking into the HYDRA base is carefully crafted, Steve leads with his shield. You keep a double check on the back trail. Something was not sitting right with you.

The hallway diverges, you stand next to Steve, “Left side first then we can go right.” You whisper.

He nods, “Stay close, I don’t know why something feels wrong.”

You don’t verbalise your own feelings, following in his footsteps.

The hallway leads to an abandoned lab, the computers torn down and broken apart. Steve relaxes his defensive stance looking around the area.

You move carefully through the edge of the room, “Something should be of value here.”

“I don’t think there is anything.” Steve declares, “Let's clear the other pathway.”

You give another once over and then follow him back down the path.

Your boot catches on the uneven flooring, “Shit!” You whisper yell as you fall forward.

Steve turns, breaking your fall. You land against his chest and his arm encircles your waist. For a moment that echoes a broken promise of eternity he holds you close to him.

Steve sneaks a moment he lost over a stupid decision. He takes what crumbs he’s given by fate.

Your palm is against his chest, your head tucked against the crook of his neck.

Why can't you move away?

Why do you want more of him?

Why do you miss him?

He hurt you.

He lied.

He hurt you.

You break the eternity Steve was living as you pull away, silence stretches between the two of you as you head down the other hallway.

It's empty yet again, you shake your head at the waste of time. Steve steps closer to the vials on the shelf. The liquid in them gleams a certain way.

You hear a pneumatic hiss from your left. You turn quietly making your way to the wall.

Steve studies the shelf again. There was no dust on it. No pattern on it. These were fresh vials. Then his eyes widened, “Y/N don’t!”

You turn to face him when the hiss is louder and the slits of the vent open. A dust like substance pours over floating around you.

A coughing fit grips you, you place your hand against the wall to steady yourself the gun falls as you clutch your chest wheezing.

Steve pads over to you, trying to rub your back to ease the coughing fit. He asks FRIDAY to scan the micro dust to see if it is anything dangerous.

The coughing fit subsides over a few minutes, your breathing shallow. You look up at Steve blinking away the tears. He cups your cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you feel anything?” He questions, gaze running over every aspect of you. Glove clad large palms moving over your form. You nod, but then your stomach cramps.

“What is it?” Steve takes not of your discomfort.

“I, it's my stomach—,” Your words are cut off by a whimper as the cramp gains severity. You lean more against the wall as the cramp travels across.

Steve rummages through his mind to know what this substance could be, he had been to HYDRA bases before. He spoke to Bucky all about them, their experiments which he knew.

He watches as your skin flushes, you squirm in his grasp. He steps closer to support you.

“Poppet?” Steve makes you look up at him, your eyes have a dazed look almost glazed over. You feel his warmth through your tactical suit. His thigh between your legs and the ache the needy ache is all you know and you need to get rid of it.

“Please,” You plead to him gazing at his slightly blurred blue eyes, your hips moving out of their own accord against his thigh you moan as your core makes contact with him.

Steve pushes your hips away, “Poppet what—,”

“Steve, it hurts so badly. Please,” You cry out wiggling against his hold. His fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place.

Your palms cover his, you look up at him.

You lean up, he shifts back. You use the distraction to guide his palm to grind down on it. Your choked moan has his cock harden further. He can’t help but watch as you use him.

Logic hits him then when he feels just how wet you’ve gotten, before he can pull away there is a prick in the side of his neck. You begin to blur from his view.

“Poppet, something is wrong.”

You look up at him, why did his words sound garbled?

Why was he falling to his knees?

You look behind him, people standing and watching.

The need clouding your mind clears in the slightest, “Steve,” you kneel next to him.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, reaching for the shield.

The cramp hits you again harder; you cry out in pain, doubling over and sinking against the wall to curl up.

“FRIDAY, dis-distress signal.” Steve orders as his vision begins to blacken, he reaches for you with the last of his strength covering your curled up form with his body.

Steve keeps his eyes closed.

Enhanced hearing picking up the dripping pipes from the left. To his right he hears your pained whimpers.

How long was he out?

Chains bind his arms above him, the uneven concrete digs into his knees and shins. He would search for the shield in the aftermath.

He counts four people by their rhythmic footfall. They were in the same facility. It couldn’t have been easy to move them.

Lolling his head to right he watches you through hooded eyes, chained like him kept on your knees but you’re struggling. Squirming on the ground trying to find respite and crying out of frustration.

“Sex pollen.” Bucky spoke, with a shake of his head in disgust.

“Sex pollen?” Steve repeated as if to confirm.

Bucky gives him a look, Steve’s eyebrows shot up higher.

“What does that do? Did they use it on you?” Steve questioned his best friend.

Bucky shook his head, “It basically sets the libido up to the maximum, forces the person in contact to orgasm but basically they need to have sex, self pleasure seldom works. The intensity is higher to combat the inevitable effect.”

A dark expression crossed Bucky’s features, he sighed sadly. Looking out at the view from his home in Wakanda. The house, though borrowed, was Bucky’s own.

Steve had placed a few sketches of Brooklyn around. The place he used to consider home now changed. Steve stares at the more recent sketch of his home city.

Two men out of time in a place decades ahead of the world outside.

“How long?” Steve clutches his charcoal tighter as he forms the curve of soft lips on the paper. A stray tendril of hair.

Bucky looks down at the half done sketch of your face. His heart aches for Steve and you.

“Two hours, it gets progressively maddening. At first one can try to speak or answer what is asked. After that it is variable how long it takes for the need to become the sole focus. If nothing is done in two hours then its too far gone and well...”

He had limited time, he could not gamble any further. Steve opens his eyes, tugging at the restraints to catch the attention of the captors.

You hear the rattling, you look up at Steve another pang through your core.

“Steve—,”

“Ah, Captain. Welcome to the land of the waking, you were out for just under an hour. Now who is this sweet little needy thing with you?” The man asks, stepping closer to you.

Steve growls, “Stay away from her.” he warns.

The man raises his hands in defence, “She’s a little needy Captain,” he walks back toward Steve away from you, “Why so possessive?”

Steve bites his tongue, “She’s mine.” he grits out.

“I see and why is she yours?”

He can’t tell them, they would exploit you but his will is crumbling swiftly and his mind is compelling him to speak, “I love her.”

“Hm, it seems she needs you, Captain.” The man grins, walking back to you. His palm touches your scalp as he pulls your hair back. You want to recoil but the touch is soothing some of the ache. You look at Steve, pleading.

“I could fill in.” He says suggestively.

You try to shuffle away but the grip on your hair tightens.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Steve bellows as his thumb approaches your lips, “What the fuck do you want?” He pulls against the restraints, almost snarling.

“I want to know where my Soldat is, tell me.” The man demands, leaving you. The words register as does the scent of cigarettes you recoil. You feel your mind working again, clearing the need to be fucked.

“Steve don’t,” you warn him, he couldn’t sell out Bucky whatever this was, it wasn't worth ruining his life again, “I’ll deal with this…” you bite back the pained whimper.

Steve stares at you, eyes wide and with an emotion you can’t place.

“Oh but you know what is wrong with her don’t you Captain?” The man demands and you look to Steve, “Tell her the truth that burns your veins, Captain.”

Steve wants to lie, wants to cushion you, “Truth serum?” He looks at the man who nods.

“Brilliant isn’t it? You’re compelled to tell me whether or not she chooses to be saved. You’re on a time limit.” The man taps his watch.

“It’s a sex pollen.” Steve informs you, you stare at him.

“That, that's why I need?” Your insides churn and your clit pulses as you watch Steve lick his dry lips before he continues to speak. The small insignificant action has your body wanting to be devoured.

“Yes, and if you don’t get release, it’s fatal.”

Silence stretches on the footfall of the three others has stopped, they watch the show play out. The consequences and the outcomes weighed.

“Fight it, don’t tell them. It's not worth it.” You whisper.

“Poppet you cannot say that. I am not risking your life!” Steve yells, pulling at the restraints again.

“You can’t have him at risk again!”

“I won’t let you die!”

“You already left me for the dead once! You chose him once. Just fucking do it again!” You seethe, your skin clammy and you just want this suit gone. The material irritates you.

Steve gapes at you, “I, I didn’t—,”

“Save it.”

“As much as I enjoy a lover’s quarrel. Where is Soldat?” The man interrupts.

“Gone.” Steve answers, “Poppet, please,”

“Don’t fucking tell them!” You demand, “Consider it my last wish! Fight the damn truth serum.”

“You are not dying.” Steve grits out.

“Where is he, where is Bucky Barnes?” The man lands a punch to Steve’s face. His hair falls forward, slowly Steve looks up at the man. Rage colouring all his features.

“I will let you help her. Just tell me where Bucky is, Captain.” The man promises. Steve considers, you begin to yell no at him.

“He’s in the United Kingdom.”

“Are you insane?!” You slump to the ground, “Do you have any fucking idea what have you done?”

The man walks over and slaps you, “Shut the fuck up! You want a cock so fucking bad you fucking bitch in heat, I’ll give you one!”

Steve snarls, wrapping the chain around his own palm and tugging hard until it breaks away from the wall. The man turns, gun cocked and ready, it's grabbed out of his hand by Steve. He looks at the man dead in his eyes before delivering the fatal shot.

You look up at Steve, as the man drops to the floor between the two of you.

Steve watches the other three scramble about, he quickly fires the shots, he keeps one person alive.

He grabs the other chain, yanking it with all his strength. It gives way.

“Where is the shield?” He walks over to the man on the ground, pleading in pain.

A shaking hand rises, pointing to the vault.

“Access code?” Steve picks him up and takes him to the keypad.

The man enters it crying when Steve presses on the open wound, “Don’t fucking pull any stunts.”

You watch as the doors part and the shield stays there as a momento.

You blink when everything goes out of focus. You blink again. Heat spreads over your body goosebumps raise across.

Your thighs clench and you squirm trying to get some friction to release the ache. Tugging at the restraints is maddening. They don’t relent when you try to manoeuvre but no position provides any respite and you sob out as the frustration grows.

“Poppet.” A warm voice calls out, you whimper. The hold on your right arm loosens and your hand reaches for the tactical suit. You had to get it off. You needed to get it off.

You blink and watch as Steve’s hand stops yours, you push at him.

“Please,” you whimper as another cramp takes over.

“You smell so sweet baby.” He groans, the sound urges you on, you guide his hand to where you need him.

His warm palm cups you the fabric of your suit soaked Steve hears your sigh of relief.

“Going to take care of you Poppet, but you need to hold on for me okay?” Steve assures, breaking out your left arm as well.

“Steve please,” you beg again, your mind screaming at your body, your hips move making you grind onto his palm. Your smaller palm wrapped around his wrist not letting him pull away.

“Fuck,” He groans, pushing you against the corner and undoing your suit’s zipper, you don’t face him palms braced against the wall. Steve’s warm calloused palm is as though cold respite to your heated skin.

He doesn’t waste time, fingers running over your folds, palm pressing against your clit. Your head tilts back resting against his shoulder, mouth parted moans leaving you.

Steve presses his fingers into you, two thick digits and your walls clench around him he almost wishes he’d fuck you right there.

“Fuck this pussy remembers who she belongs to doesn’t she?” Fingers curve finding the spot he very well could have placed. Stars line your vision as he hits the spot over and over, fingers curving.

“Right there Steve!” You cry out your ass rocking against him, pressing onto his cock. He keeps his thrusts hard and fast, palm rubbing your clit in the most delicious of ways. His grunts fill your senses.

Pleasure thrums from his touch to your body, your back arching as his fingers drive deeper and deeper into you. Your walls are gripping them back in not wanting him to stop.

“I know sweet Poppet. I know what makes her weep for me. I’m going to taste you. But first you’re going to make a mess on my hand alright?” He instructs filthy words offset by the sweet kisses placed against your forehead and cheek.

His other hand cups your breast playing with your nipple. Your hands fall from the wall, gripping onto his nails leaving indents on his skin. Steve watches your chest constrict, your voice choke off, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashes into you.

His fingers keep moving, riding your orgasm out, your walls quivering around him the sensitivity of your clit as it pulses. Some of the haze clears but the need just returns tenfold.

“Steve, please, I can’t, can’t wait—,”

His lips are on yours, cutting you off, your suit pushed down further without breaking away from the kiss.

The shield clatters to the floor, his suit haphazardly discarded. Steve’s hands explore your body, remembering the planes he explored before. The love he whispered across your skin. Marking you with his touch, his lips, his seed.

“Wanna see you,” You want to turn, he grabs your hands pinning them to the wall.

“No one gets to see you this way but me.” He growls, you feel his hard cock move between your thighs. His larger body covers yours, shielding you, watching over you.

When your thighs clench around him, Steve hisses, “Going to fill you up, sweet girl.” he coos.

Inch by inch Steve’s length stretches you, your back arches. The relief the stretch of his cock brings is unlike anything else you’ve felt before.

“You can take it, made for my cock aren't you?” He stills inside you, throbbing as your walls clench around him. He moans biting down on your shoulder the feel of you decadent, unable to be given justice by his mind.

“Heaven. Pussy feels so good, baby. Missed you so much.” He grunts, you push back against him needing him to move, “hands around my neck.” He orders, leaving your hands.

You wrap them around him, holding onto his now longer hair, soft between your fingers. Your mind remains you of the soft moments when he laid in your lap and your fingers combed through these locks.

Steve pulls you out of your thoughts with the snap of his hips. His palms gripping your waist anchoring you to him. Skin slapping against skin, his cock feels so good you could sob, the need turns into embers, your thirst being quenched.

Each delicious, deep stroke moves you towards sweet bliss. You hear your name in an echo of his name. Steve watches the wall you mould against him, as countless times before. Your heart may have put up walls but your body left no space.

The way he sees the telltale signs of your orgasm he brings his right hand towards your apex, timing his rough circles on your clit to his thrusts. The sensations blooming become too much, your body alit with flames of pleasure, Steve moans as your walls begin to milk him just as your orgasm shatters through you.

He keeps his thrusts going, pumping into you. The arousal that spills onto your thighs, the mix of you and him.

“One more.” He demands, fingers coated with the mix of the two of you, his marked fingers brought back to your clit, you cry out in ecstasy.

The blissful haze clears, everything returning to you. The mission, the power, you can’t, you can’t, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve–,

“Right here my sweet poppet, you will give me one more. You know I'm greedy.” He reasons, only increasing his pace, you thrash in his hold. Lips find the sweet spot of your neck.

It’s your undoing, you cum around him yet again. Crying out his name, tugging on his hair. Aftershocks moving through you. He holds you up, pressing kisses to your forehead, temple, cheek, jaw and shoulders.

Grounding you, palms moving over you after he brings his coated fingers to taste them. Your head lols against his shoulder, you reach for his jaw, placing a soft kiss. Steve smiles at the familiar gesture.

Helping you get dressed he follows as well. You’re lifted into his arms and carried to the quinjet.

As it had turned out Bucky wasn’t in UK it was a precautionary measure they came up with to secure Bucky from any life threatening attempts. The guilt you had harboured lessened.

Steve had stayed away from you, once Tony and Bruce cleared you of any remnant pollen he took his leave. Avoiding you as he had after the elevator confrontation. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

As much as you felt as if you were an emotional fool for considering the thought of wanting to approach him, you missed him. Terribly.

You knew your walls were useless against the one man who you had given your jagged heart to, the blue eyes you had drowned yourself in multiple times. Whether it was when he found your gaze across the room or when you were pressed against him.

Your feet carried you after three days to his door. Your hand shook when you knocked. Thoughts swirling through your mind insecurities gaining fleet.

The door opens, Steve’s eyes widen then his brows furrowed with worry, then fall to the still fading love bite that he placed on your collarbone. You shift your weight to either side. Hands fiddling with the hem of your top.

You look down at your feet, Steve’s palm cups your cheek.

Your eyes meet their old home of blue.

“I want to listen.” You manage to say, his pink lips stretch into a familiar smile.

He steps to the side inviting you further into his room.

-x-x-x-x-

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bambidabbles · 11 months

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Recently rewatched the entirety of Steven Universe and I just desperately needed to draw some of my babies having a Nice Time and being Safe and Loved

#digital art #artists on tumblr #steven universe #my art #art #su fanart #steven universe fanart #fluff #baby steven #amethyst #cute #summer nap #i just need them to be safe ok?

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liquidcatt · 8 months

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#haikyuu x reader #one piece x reader #my hero academia x reader #naruto x reader #sailor moon x reader #helluva boss x reader #deltarune x reader #undertale x reader #the owl house x reader #steven universe x reader #final space x reader #fluff #multifandom imagines

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disillusioneddanny · 1 year

Text

Love Me Like You

Absolutely wrote this instead of going to sleep. This is based off of the song Love Like You by Rebecca Sugar for steven universe.

Damian’s heart was racing violently in his chest. He was angry, no he was beyond angry. No one was listening to him! He was twenty years old now, he wasn’t some little Robin sidekick anymore either, he was Red Bird, he had taken a different name and become his own person as a vigilante yet it didn’t seem to matter to anyone in this blasted family. All they saw him as was the demon brat, the boy who had been raised to become an assassin who had been brainwashed his entire life.

But he wasn’t that boy any longer! He had been out of the League of Assassins for the same amount of time he had been in it. If not a little longer if one could count the fact that the ten years he was with his family he was fully cognizant and could make his own decisions, unlike the toddler he had been with the League.

Sure, he had been moulded to be the perfect weapon, the perfect heir to the Demon’s Head but he was more than that now, he was so, so, so much more than that.

He was a hero, he was someone that others could look upon and be inspired. He wasn’t some ruffian assassin any longer and his past shouldn’t matter in the slightest anymore. At least, it shouldn’t be thrown in his face by his own family every chance he got.

He stormed up the steps of the Brownstone he owned with his boyfriend and let out a huff, trying to calm his racing heart before he stepped into the home. It would be different once he was past these bricks, he would be in the company of someone who saw him completely and loved him anyways.

He stepped through the threshold and smiled as he found his beloved passed out on the couch, curled up with a blanket wrapped around him.

If I could begin to be, half of what you think of me. I could do about anything.

Damian smiled at his boyfriend before he stooped down, slipping one arm underneath Danny’s legs and the other under his neck as he lifted him in the air carefully, cradling him bridal style in his arms.

“Tried to stay up and wait for you,” the halfa mumbled, pressing his face against Damian’s chest. “Got too tired.”

“It is alright, Beloved,” Damian murmured before he pressed a kiss to Danny’s forehead. “Rest, I assume you had a busy day, my dear?”

“Justice League Dark are full of idiots who don’t know their ass from their head,” Danny mumbled as Damian opened the bedroom door.

He let out a soft chuckle at that. He would not be surprised if his beloved lost his mind even a little bit when having to work with both that dreadful Constantine and Doctor Fate at the same time.

“Who all were there?” Damian asked as he set Danny on the bed. The halfa whined at the loss of Damian’s warmth, making the vigilante’s heart flutter.

When I see the way you act, wondering when I’m coming back. I could do about anything.

“Give me just a moment to change into some sleepwear and I’ll join you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Danny who now laid with a pillow wrapped in his arms and a pout on his face. “Now, tell me about the meeting.”

“I originally went to the Watchtower to work on one of the main engines, Supes had been saying it sounded wrong,” he said, launching into his tale but Damian was taken back to a different time, three years before when he had first met his love.

I could even learn how to love like you.

Three years ago.

Damian trailed behind his father into the main room of the Watchtower when he had noticed something out of the ordinary. There seemed to be someone floating on the outside of the ship without a space suit of any kind.

“Batman,” he gasped out, stepping towards the man only for his steps to falter as the man-being waved at him with a wide smile. Bruce looked over curiously and smiled.

“Oh, that’s Phantom,” he said simply. “He’s the head engineer of the Watchtower maintenance crew. Although, I have been trying to convince him to join us as an actual member for well over a month now. He refuses.”

“He looks no older than I do, how could he be the head engineer?” Damian asked, looking mystified as the being, Phantom phased through the window and gave him a dopey smile.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just cool like that?” He asked, looking Damian up and down. “And who might you be?”

“Right, you’ve not seen him in his newest persona,” Batman said before, Damian’s eyes had to be deceiving him, his father was smiling at Phantom! “This is Red Bird.”

Damian held out a hand for Phantom. “It’s a pleasure,” he said, locking in on those eyes that reminded him of the Lazarus Pits he had grown up around.

“Oh, I think the pleasure is all mine,” Phantom had purred, his eyes a green fire that had sucked Damian in immediately. He had never been bested so easily by someone else in all his life.

I always thought I might be bad, now I’m sure that it’s true.

He never did learn how Danny had managed to become the head engineer, even after three years of dating the halfa.

“And then Detective Chimp had to but in! Which why the hell do we have a fucking monkey on the team anyway! His name is fucking Bobo, Dami, Bobo!” Danny said, now fully awake as he laid starfished in their bed, the pillow now resting on his chest as he glared up at the ceiling.

Damian chuckled and pulled his shirt over his head before he glanced at his boyfriend once more. “He is a detective, darling, quite a good one at that. I think he’s almost as good as,” Damian stopped and scowled. No, he was not going to go in that direction, he was not going to bring up his father, not when his mood was finally starting to lift and he had been distracted by his lover.

“Oh, I know that look,” Danny said before he floated off of the bed and gave Damian a look as he cupped his face in his calloused hands. Danny’s right thumb ran along the small scar just below Damian’s left eye. Almost miniscule, no one had ever noticed it before except for Danny. It had been from his first time knife fighting as a child, his oppent had managed to get a single nick in and Damian had been punished within an inch of his life for letting someone get past his defenses.

He had been five at the time.

Danny had been ready to destroy all of Nanda Parbat when he had first learned how Damian had gotten the scar. No one had ever been so angry on his behalf before. Sure, his family were angry about his upbringing but not once had they ever truly considered the emotional and mental damage it had done to Damian. How he had to work so hard to be good in their eyes even after all these years.

Cause I think you’re so good, and I’m nothing like you.

“What did he say to you this time?” Danny asked, his big blue eyes curious and so very full of love.

Damian sighed. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, stepping away to change into his pajama pants. Danny grabbed his wrist and frowned.

“What did we talk about, Polaris?” He asked, brows now furrowed in concern.

“My feelings matter,” Damian recited like a toddler back to his boyfriend.

Look at you go, I just adore you.

“Now, do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to drop it?” Danny asked him, letting go of his wrist to instead wind their fingers together, interlocking them so that Damian could not escape his boyfriend’s grasp even if he wanted to.

Damian just smiled at him. “I do not wish to expand into the entire argument. But he told me that I will always be an assassin at heart and that I will never be more than that,” he said softly, his eyes sad as he tried his very best to not replay the argument in his head.

I wish that I knew, what makes you think I’m so special.

Danny’s face crumpled before he pulled Damian in for a tight hug, the shorter man pressed Damian’s face to his neck, forcing the vigilante to crouch slightly. “He’s wrong, you’re an amazing vigilante, Damian. You’ve done so much for people, for Gotham, ancients you’ve done so much for the world,” he said, combing his fingers through Damian’s hair. “You could have easily decided that this wasn’t the life for you when you left Talia, you could have decided to live as a normal kid and never get involved in any of this. But you became a vigilante anyway, and you’ve stayed a vigilante, a hero for the last ten years. Only a special kind of person could do that, Polaris,” Danny said softly, pressing a soft kiss to Damian’s damp cheek.

He absolutely rubbed at his face, not even realizing that he had been crying.

If I could, begging to do, something that does right by you. I would do about anything.

“Let’s get to bed,” Danny said, watching as Damian pulled away to slip his pajama bottoms on. Danny took his hand once more and led him to their large bed. He pulled the blankets back and slipped Damian in them.

Once Damian was secure underneath the blankets, Danny wrapped his arm around him and held him close. “You know, the first time I laid my eyes on you, Damian, I knew you were the one for me,” Danny whispered in his ear, his chin rested on Damian’s shoulder as the ghost spooned him, holding the vigilante close. “My core, it sung for you. It saw the good in you even then,” he whispered.

Damian smiled. It had taken him so long to work up the nerve to ask Danny on a date.

Three Years Earlier.

Damian stared at the head engineer as he declined Batman’s offer once again to join the Justice League Dark, stating once again that his passion was for engineering and nothing more. Damian had walked towards him just moments later, finally working up the nerve to talk to the ghost once again.

“Why do you need turning him down?” He asked, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. “Would you not like to use your powers to be a hero?”

Phantom had just smiled and shook his head. “Nope,” he said simply as he fasted the work belt to his waist. “Why would I do something that doesn’t make me happy?”

“For the safety of others? It is a duty, an obligation-”

“No, it isn’t,” Phantom told him. “It may be that for you, but it isn’t for me. I spent three long years trying to keep my hometown safe and I was very good at it until one day I realized it didn’t make me happy. There were others in the area who genuinely enjoyed being a hero so I let them take over. Then with all that extra time I graduated early, got my bachelor’s in engineering and now I’m working on the Watchtower as the head engineer while I get my masters. This is it for me, Redbird, it’s what makes me happy.”

Damian frowned. “But don’t you feel as though that is a waste?” He asked, trying to understand the man’s logic.

Phantom shook his head. “Not at all. I’ve got a lot on my plate, you know? I’m the Ghost King for one, which thankfully isn’t a whole lot of work now that I’ve got a council that pretty much runs everything. I’m mostly just a figure head nowadays. And I’m just plain old Danny Phantom, the head engineer of the Justice League’s homebase. If they need me to consult with their Dark team or need my help, I’ll offer it. But I won’t go out of my way for it,” he explained. “It doesn’t bring me joy, I don’t feel a sense of pride saving the world or helping others. I just feel tired. And that’s okay.”

“I do not think I understand,” Damian said slowly. This was not something he had ever thought of. His entire life had been planned for him. First he was the heir to the Demon’s Head and then he was the heir to Batman, the only blood son. Expected to take on the mantle of Robin and fight side by side with Batman to keep the forces of evil at bay.

And now Danny was telling him that he didn’t have to do that if it did not make him happy?

When I see the way you look, shaken by how long it took. I could do about anything.

“Danny,” Damian said softly, turning over to face his beloved. He searched those beautiful blue eyes and let out a breath. “I do not think being RedBird brings me joy anymore.”

Danny just gave him a small smile. “That’s okay,” he whispered. “You’ve been kicking ass for ten years, that’s a long time to devote yourself to others.”

“Will you help me?” Damian asked, twining their fingers together. “Will you help me find what sparks joy for me?”

The smile Danny gave him was dazzling. “Of course, Polaris. I would be honored to help you,” he whispered.

I could even learn how to love like you.

Love like you.

Love me like you.

I hope you all enjoyed! If you want to read more of my work check out my AO3

I do not do tags for my fics. If you like what you're reading and want to see more, tell me what you liked and subscribe to the post by pressing the little bell on the top right corner. Reblogging means more than likes on tumblr as we do not have an algorithm here and it's the only way to share! More notes means I'm more likely to write more!

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#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dis writes #dpxdc #dead serious #dead serious ship #Damian Wayne x Danny Fenton #fluff #this is literally so soft and sweet and im obsessed with it #song fic #song is Love Like You from Steven Universe

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ts4ritsa · 1 year

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me again 😜

steven with just kind of an adorable s/o? just yk the sterotype of adorable..big eyes short really sweet IDKKK LOL

✧ steven universe headcanons :

with a s/o who’s just adorable (gn reader)

- Steven thinks you are just the epitome of adorableness. With your big, cute eyes, short stature, and cheerful personality, you never fail to make Steven's heart skip a beat

- Steven loves to show you off to his friends and family. They all can't resist your cute and lovable personality

- You have a habit of falling asleep on Steven's lap while he's playing video games. He finds it endearing and always tries to stay quiet so he doesn't wake you up

- One of your favorite activities to do with Steven is baking. You love to mix the ingredients and decorate the cupcakes, while Steven loves to taste-test them

- You often wear oversized sweaters and hoodies, and Steven thinks you look absolutely adorable in them. He jokes that he wants to steal them from you to wear himself

- Steven likes to surprise you with small gifts and treats, like a bouquet of your favorite flowers or a box of chocolates. He loves to see your face light up with joy

- You might not be a fan of scary movies, but Steven loves them. During these times, he holds you close and makes sure to comfort you during the scary parts

- Your favorite thing to do with Steven is cuddle. You both love to snuggle up on the couch and watch your favorite TV shows or movies. It's your favorite way to spend lazy afternoons together

#steven universe #steven universe x reader #headcanons #fluff #relationship headcanons #fem reader #male reader #gn reader #short #cute

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divine-donna · 9 days

Text

your desire

got inspired, so here's something for steven grant. because i love awkward autistic oscar isaac.

pairing: steven grant x gender neutral! reader

for vibes: "venus" by bananarama

you were in london for a phd program. you wanted to pursue a doctorate in art history and work with repatriation. after all, every place deserved their stuff back.

especially from the british museum.

you lived in a simple flat across from the sweetest man you've ever met: steven grant.

now, aside from how tired he was and the sometimes weird things you'd wake up to coming from his apartment, he was a good neighbor.

at one point, he even helped you unlocked your door after you had left your keys in the apartment. you rushed to get out of the apartment as fast as possible and came back near 1am without your keys.

"i didn't even know i could do that." is what he said when he successfully gets your door open. you were sure he was joking. he was being genuine.

the dating scene in london wasn't...well, the state of dating was bad in general. especially considering that half of the world literally disappeared and then came back, including your own brother. your father died thinking he was dead permanently, leaving you with a soft spot and a desire to pursue a fulfilling relationship.

why wait if you might die tomorrow? there was always another world ending event around the corner.

perhaps developing a crush on your attractive neighbor was not the way to go.

none of the people you went out with had steven's smile. had his curls. had his smile. had his nose. had his little information dumps that you adored.

but from the interactions you guys had, it seemed the destiny might be platonic. which hurt your soft, romantic heart.

you were about to retire for the night since you had class the next day. that's when you heard mumbling outside your door. peeking through the peephole, you can see the man looked downtrodden. he was holding some flowers and a box of chocolates.

you opening the door surprises him. he nearly jumps out of his skin. "(y/n)!"

"hey." you lean against the doorway and cross your arms over your chest. you were wearing some comfortable lounging clothes: a tank top and some fuzzy pants with hello kitty designs. "everything okay?"

"huh? yeah. i mean..." he purses his lips and sighs. "got stood up on a date." again.

you understood all too well. you lost count of how many dates you went on and they just didn't show up. not even a text to tell you they weren't coming, or to ask for a rain check. wasting your time. and being general dicks.

the state of dating was not it.

"i'm sorry. i'm sure there was a reason." perhaps there was. perhaps there wasn't. there was no point in thinking about it.

"yeah. well, good night!" even when upset, there was still a pep in his voice.

watching him pull out his keys made you feel...sad. you didn't want him to spend time alone.

"how about you come in for a cup of tea? that way you don't have to eat the chocolates alone."

steven turns around. there's a sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you, making you melt.

"i'd like that. a lot."

you move aside to let him in and close the door behind you. he removes his shoes, setting them on the side and you take his jacket to hang it up.

steven sits at one of the seats at the kitchen island, watching you pull out your kettle and fill it with water, before placing it on a burner. you adjusted the flame to a medium.

"you want some cake? i have some left. it's lavender lemon." you ask, pulling out two mugs. you love the way his face perks up. one of them was a mug from the gift shop with an egyptology theme.

"i think i'll be fine. but it's kind of you to offer."

"okay. what about tea?"

"do you have chamomile? kind of...basic but..." he would like a sleep aid.

you don't say anything. you just smile at him and grab the box from your cabinet. you place a bag in each much, discarding the proper trash. "so...you wanna talk about it?"

steven spends the next few minutes talking about his feelings. it felt good for him to unload and vent just a little bit. he held no ill will towards his date. just some frustration about how his romantic life has hit a brick wall. something was always getting in the way of him pursuing a relationship. something was always happening. he was always screwing up. perhaps he was the problem.

in the middle, your kettle was screeching. so you turned off the burner and poured it into the mugs, letting the tea steep.

you can't help but relate. with all the people who stood you up, you wonder if you are the problem. were you that unlovable, that undatable, that people can't even tell you they weren't coming?

steven stops talking when he notices the way you're looking at him: with intensity. you look like you want to tell him something. "what is it?"

"what? you can keep going."

"you want to say something. your lip is twitching." he gestures. he takes a sip of his tea.

"well...i don't know if..."

"go on. you can say it."

you take a sip of tea before looking at him. "it's not your fault. none of it is."

steven's smile is sad. "you don't have to say that."

"i mean it. steven...i know it feels like it is. hell, i relate a lot. sometimes it feels like you're the problem because no one else wants you. but it's not your fault. i think you're...pretty cool. and amazing."

he blinks slowly, almost like a cat. he's busy just looking at you, admiring your features. your beauty. and your warmth. not many people would invite people over just to vent.

"it's all good to vent. but i also think it's important to...think of it as redirection. like my dating life sucks but my studies are going well. and i'm going to be published."

"r-really?" he watches you walk over to the record and set your mug down. you look through the vinyls and pick one.

"yeah. academically too. so i get academic validation. which isn't everything, but it's certainly nice." it was important to get your work out there. you turn the player on, place the disk, and then drop the needle.

your body movies instinctively. you recognize the synth beat, picking up your mug and moving your hips. "this was my dad's. he really like british 80s synthpop." you turn to steven and take a sip of your tea.

he was trying his best not to stare, not to watch the way your hips moved. it was mesmerizing. he wasn't one for dancing. he was not the best at following a rhythm.

you dance over to him and gently take his hand. "come on steven."

"i don't think so." he sees your pout. "okay, okay."

he gets off the stool and lets you guide him to the middle of the room.

your hips move. your body is unchoreographed. you weren't really a dancer. but you can't help yourself. you spins a few times, bathing in the casualty of it all. and unknowingly bathing in steven's love filled gaze.

you look deep into his eyes. his soft brown eyes. and your eyes glance down to look at his lips. his soft looking kissable lips.

could you be bold? could you make a move? was it appropriate to make a move? you take a sip of her tea and sets the mug down. "steven..." you bites her lip as the music keeps playing.

"y-yes (y/n)?" he could feel his cheeks warm up. especially as you step closer. your bodies are nearly touching.

you gently cup his face with one hand and pull him by his waist so his body is against yours. you could feel your own body against his. it was quite arousing.

you leans forward and kiss him softly, pulling away for a second only to kiss him again.

"i like you." you mutter against his lips.

steven doesn't know what to do. he's hesitant. because you want him. and maybe he wants you. but do you really want him? was it just the heat of the tea? or the music?

"you...you like...me?" surely there were better men. better people.

your eyes soften. "yes. i do. i like you. i like you a lot steven." the music appears to fade to a soft lull. your heart beats in your ears. perhaps you made a mistake.

"i know this is sudden. and maybe it's inappropriate considering that...you just got stood up and i invited you in my home and it seems weird and terrible honestly. and if you don't like me back that's fine. you can just tell me and i'll stop and you can go..." you begin rambling nervously. your mouth runs faster than you could comprehend.

he has to set his mug of tea down.

you stop talking when he presses a finger against your lips. he feels how soft they are. and is tempted to trace your lips with his finger. "don't...don't you dare stop."

your lips curled into a smile and he removes his finger to kiss you. his hands rest on your hips, trying to bring your bodies closer.

a small moan escapes you, feeling him grind up against you. his kisses are fervent, as if he's trying to taste you.

your back hits the edge of the tv stand, causing you to giggle. you let him kiss you, parting your lips so his tongue slides in. they dance for what feels like an eternity.

you manage to pull away and turn around so he's against the tv stand. then you tug him along, heading straight for your bedroom.

#marvel cinematic universe #mcu #moon knight #steven grant #gender neutral reader #female reader #male reader #x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x gender neutral reader #fluff #somewhat steamy #use your imagination

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hotpinkboots · 1 year

Note

omg yay 🙈

so could u do like steven (future) with like s/o who loves to cuddle and hold hands and cutesy stuff yk 🤭

~~~~~~~~~~

~𝓢𝓽𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 x Reader Fluff Headcanons (Holding Hands/Cuddling)~

~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU ARE LITERALLY A ✨ GIFT ✨ I LOVE WHEN I GET STEVEN UNIVERSE REQUESTS THANK YOU

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝓢𝓽𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓤𝓷𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓮

★★★★

~this boy is SO SOFT and he gets all smiley and blushy at you.

~Will be embarrassed if you do it in front of the Crystal Gems though bc they're like "AWW STEVEN" and he's like -_-'

~So it's best to do it when you're not around them Lmao they'll embarrass him so much.

~Sometimes he's too busy to cuddle, and it gets him all sad and upset, so later he'll hug you and cuddle you for a super long time to make up for the cuddles he couldn't have earlier.

~But when HE wants a cuddle and YOU'RE too busy, he can either be understanding about it, or he can feel left out.

~Spoil him omg

~Baby boy's been having a lot of issues and stuff too, so feeling you close to him like this reminds him that you're there and you aren't leaving him.

~Steven's so sweet and physical touch is one of his love languages, he loves just simple things such as hand holding, brushing his shoulder against yours, or just little forehead kisses.

~The gems ruffling his hair?

~no

~You ruffling his hair?

~YES

~As long as you aren't trying to like ruin his hair or anything he LOOOVES feeling you run your fingers through his hair.

~He's always excited to introduce you to anyone, as well, likes to show you off because you're so freaking cute.

~Loves you so much, and loves the affection you give him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Request Guidelines!

~~~~~~~~~~

Discord Server! Here you can roleplay with and as your favorite characters, get updates on my fanfiction, and get sneak peaks for my upcoming videogames!:

~~~~~~~~~

~Love, PinkBoots

#steven universe #steven universe x reader #cartoon network #steven x reader #steven quartz universe #steven universe future #su #su x reader #steven universe x reader fluff #pink's fanfic

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wolfmoonmusic · 1 year

Note

hello again on the same day~~i have a valentine's day request!!

I can't decide who i prefer more, so please - pick one of the characters: moon knight (steven grant maybe) or young sirius black. i would love a surprise!!

i'd love to read an angst/fluff with this powerful question: who hurt you?

thank you, bestie!!<33

Worries

Summary: Steven shows up at your doorstep drunk and bruised after Marc gets into a messy situation.

A/N: I can’t tell you how much I LOVED this request. I tweaked it a bit 'cause I couldn't get it out before Valentine's.

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector x reader, Jake Lockley x reader (if you squint) , established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of getting drunk, Bruises and cuts, mentions of blood, DID, mentions of character death

w/c: 3500+

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3

Steven woke up with a terrible headache, and stiff limbs. He groaned, holding the back of his head as he got up, eyes scanning his surroundings. The sun was starting to set. There were buildings on both his sides, a dumpster behind him. There was a door on his left, the sign above a flashing red.

“For fuck’s sake.”

It was a bar.

They were in an alleyway.

And Steven couldn’t remember even glimpses of what happened. That was not good. He struggled to stand up, the movement causing his head to spin, as he stumbled over to the wall, holding it for support. Only then, did he register the stinging pain on different parts of his body. His torso, his knuckles, his left eye, his right cheekbone. His eyes scanned the alleyway, he needed a mirror.

“Down here.”

Steven looked down, finding Jake staring back at him through broken pieces of glass. “Do you know?” he asked, his voice breaking, still trying to steady himself.

Jake shook his head, “Nothing at all.”

Steven nodded. One thing was for sure. Marc had gotten drunk. Maybe got into a fight as well.

“Steven. We have to get home.”

“Yeah I - fuck - I know Jake,” he responded. He didn’t know where they were in the first place. He started stumbling towards the street, supporting himself with the wall.

His head was pounding.

He didn’t know how to ask for directions without getting weird looks, or worse, having the police called on him. He checked his pockets, thankfully finding his phone. He took it out, debating on whether he should call you or not. Calling would get him an easy way home, but it would worry you too much.

He fumbled with the phone, realizing that it had a big crack on it.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jake said from the phone screen.

Steven shook his head, “Something must have triggered it,” he mumbled, turning on the phone.

It was working. 25 missed calls. Over 50 messages. All from you. Asking - begging for any of them to respond. Steven felt terrible, but he didn’t want to call you. He should speak to you, in person.

He turned on the location, opening his maps app, punching in your address.

“Fuck you, Marc.”

He had a long way to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steven was exhausted by the time he reached the house. The pounding in his head had doubled, and he’d gotten a lot of suspicious looks from strangers.

Of course he did, who wouldn’t think a man with a black eye and bruised knuckles, walking on the streets of Chicago, right after sunset wasn’t a lunatic?

He didn’t know how long it’d been since Marc was home. All he remembers is eating ice cream with you last night. He’d gotten a brain freeze and Marc had taken over. That’s all he knows.

His knuckles burn as he knocks the door. He’s mad at Marc, but he’s worried about you.

The second you open the door, he feels his heart drop. You look tired, a frown plastered on your face, eyes puffy, and hair pulled up in a messy bun. You freeze when you see him, eyes scanning him. He hopes he doesn’t look as terrible as he feels.

“Oh my god, Steven,” you mutter.

You know. You always do.

You take his hand, gently pulling him inside. He tries not to fall on top of you, pushing against the wall for support. He notices how quiet the house is. It’s never this way, and he hates it.

You bend down, and before he knows it, you’re untying his shoes, tugging at the lace. He lets you. Only because he’s too tired to do it himself.

You pull his shoes off, throwing them aside before standing up again. You brush his curls to the side, lightly pressing your fingers to the right side of his face. “We should get you cleaned up,” you whisper. Steven nods slightly, too afraid to move his head too much. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, lightly pressing down at the front.

He knows you think he doesn’t notice.

He does.

It’s a habit you’d established. You used it whenever the three of them worried you about something. Or when they didn’t come home for a while. It was a way of making sure they were there.

That they were alive.

You pulled him into the downstairs bathroom, gently pushing down on his shoulders to make him sit on the closed toilet. Steven’s head is still throbbing, but the world is no longer spinning.

He needs to hear your voice. Hear you get mad at them. He hates how quiet you are.

You open the cupboard under the sink in front of Steven, pulling out the first-aid kit, and placing it on top.

Jake is staring at you from the mirror. He’s pissed, Steven can tell. But, Marc is nowhere to be seen.

You gently take Steven’s hand, wiping the dry blood off of his knuckles. Wisps of hair fall in front of your face, and he wonders how you manage to look so pretty even at a time like this.

“I - We’re sorry.” Steven mutters. He doesn’t know where Marc is, or what happened, but he apologizes for him anyway.

You look up briefly, tired eyes boring into his, before shaking you head, and going back to cleaning his wounds.

“Do you - do you know? What happened?” you ask.

Steven catches the way your voice breaks slightly, eyes watching you as you carefully wrap a bandage around his hand, moving on to clean the next one.

“No. No - I - we,” he says, looking at the way Jake is watching carefully, “ we were hoping you knew.”

You shake your head again, bun lightly flopping around as you do so. “No we - we went to bed, and - and everything was fine. But, I woke up and he wasn’t there and -” you don’t finish the sentence. You don’t need to, the drop of water that lands on Steven’s fingers is an explanation enough. He feels terrible, thinking about all the possible scenarios that would’ve run through your mind.

You stop what you’re doing, wiping away your tears, before looking back at him, eyes still a little watery. “Who’s we?” you ask.

He knows what you mean.

“Just Jake and I,” he whispers, looking into the mirror.

“I’m going to kill him.” Jake seethes. Steven knows he hates seeing you like this. He knows Marc would hate it too. It’s probably why he hasn’t shown up yet.

You nod slowly, focusing on Steven’s hand again. He tries to piece things together, despite how his head is still throbbing. If he’d gone to bed with you, that means that whatever had happened, happened at night. Which could only mean one thing.

“Nightmare,” he mutters, mostly to Jake, but you hear it too.

You're wrapping up his knuckles again as you nod, “Yeah, that’s - that’s what I thought too. But I wish he’d stayed and woken me up,” you finish what you’re doing, moving back to the first aid kit to get more supplies for the rest of his cuts.

“He does have a bit of an alcohol problem,” Steven says, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

You don’t laugh however, and Jake is scowling from the mirror.

“You really expected that to work?”

Steven shakes his head slightly. His mind is too foggy to be able to think straight, but he still wants to make you feel better. It’s what he does, that’s his role. To fix things, be normal.

But how the fuck is he supposed to do that with this terrible hangover?

He watches as you walk back over to him, a new set of supplies in hand, as you start fixing the cut on his cheekbone next.

He reaches for your hand, stopping you. Your (e/c) eyes lock with his, confusion evident in them, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “It’s not your fault that - that Marc left - y’know - the way he did,” he says, hoping - praying, that you don’t blame yourself.

You nod lightly, starting to pull away, but he tightens his grip. “Say it,” he says.

He knows he can’t comfort you, not in the state he’s in. But, he can make sure that you know how much you mean to them. To Marc. And that the way he reacted, had absolutely nothing to do with you.

“It’s not my fault. I know,” you respond, smiling softly. Steven nods, satisfied.

You tilt his head upwards, chin between your thumb and index finger. He watches your face as you clean up his wound. It’s almost as if he can see the swarming thoughts, your tongue poking out of your lips lightly as you try to focus.

You might just be the best thing that’s happened to the three of them. Marc had told you about their DID the moment he felt himself catching feelings. He’d hoped you would run away, thinking he was crazy.

But, you hadn’t.

You’d asked questions, figuring out boundaries. Things that you could and couldn’t do. You’d paid attention to the tiny details, to the point where you could just take one look, and you’d know who was fronting. You had snacks for each of them, always stocked up. You always said they were “3 individuals, one body,” and that’s exactly how you’d treated them.

“All done,” you said, gently smoothing out the band-aid you’d just placed. “We’ll get the eye checked out tomorrow with the doc,” you told him, cleaning up all the supplies, and then washing your hands.

Steven stares at the mirror, watching Jake pace back and forth. Marc’s absence seemed to be really pissing him off.

You’re back in front of Steven, eyes scanning him again. “Does it hurt anywhere else?”

It does.

His head, and his torso. But he doesn’t want to tell you, already feeling extremely guilty, so he shakes his head, pulling you towards him. You wrap your hands around his head, fingers in his hair, as he wraps his around your waist. However, the angle isn’t right, causing the pain in his abdomen to double, and he flinches away, cursing.

You react immediately, dropping down to his level, face filled with worry. “What happened? Di - Did I do something wrong?” you ask. He shakes his head, hands clutching the bruise in his side. You notice, reaching for the hem of his shirt. You look up at him, and he realizes that you’re silently asking for permission. He nods briefly, before letting you pull off his shirt, placing it on the sink.

He hears you gasping before he sees the wound himself.

It’s patches of purplish-blue, spanned across the right side of his abdomen. Your fingers hover over them gently.

“Steven,” you say, not looking away from the bruises.

He hums in response, the effect of actually seeing the cause of his pain making it unbearable.

“Who hurt you?” you ask, voice cracking with the sheer amount of anger hidden in it.

It takes Steven everything in him to not flinch away at the sheer force of the question.

Because the bruises and wounds aren’t just the results of a fight. It started way before. Before the fights with Khonshu, before all of it.

Marc got drunk because of a nightmare. And the nightmare, Steven knows, is caused by someone from Marc’s childhood. Someone who was never supposed to inflict such pain on him. On anyone.

Steven doesn’t know how to respond, so he stays quiet, watching you quietly.

He hates that he doesn’t know what to do.

“Comfort her Steven! Tell her you’re okay!” Jake yells from the mirror.

But Steven shakes his head. He knows you’d rather hear the truth, and bear it for a while, than any of them hide their pain or go through it alone.

You sigh, shaking your head. “You go sit in the living room. I’ll get you an ice pack. Do you want any painkillers?” you ask, heading out of the bathroom.

“Yeah. And a proper hug once you get back would be good,” Steven says, slipping his shirt back on.

You laugh, and Steven is grinning. He likes the sound of your happiness, even if it is topped off with exhaustion.

“Right away love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steven had settled down on the couch by the time you returned with a glass of water, a pill and an ice pack. He took the pill immediately, wanting to desperately get rid of the throbbing in his head. He could still handle the rest fairly well.

You place the ice pack next to him on the couch, holding your arms wide open. Steven lets out a small laugh, wincing as he gets up and literally falling into your arms.

He wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, as your hands wrap around his neck, one landing in his hair playing with the curls.

He feels safe.

You always made them feel that way.

Wanted. Needed. Loved.

He breathes in your scent, nuzzling into your neck, grip tightening as he tries to get rid of the millimeters of space between you both.

He doesn’t know if the hug is too tight, or if you can breathe, because you don’t complain, only pulling him closer. It’s as if you know. You know that he feels terrible on days like these. When he’s the one who has to pick up the pieces, wake up with a hangover. He hates it. And you know.

And you always always remind him that it’s ok to ask for help. For a hug. For a distraction.

He pulls away after a good few minutes, when he feels more stable.

“You ok?” you ask, brushing the curls out of his face.

He nods, sitting down, grabbing the ice pack. “It’s not cold anymore,” he laughs. You grin, reaching out to take it from him, but he shakes his head,“It’s ok, just say with me yeah? That’s medicine in its own right.”

A small laugh slips past your lips as you settle down next to him, his arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you into his side as your head rests on his shoulder.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep?” you ask, reaching for the remote.

“No, missed an entire day with you. I want to make up for it,” he says, pressing his lips to your hair.

“Alright then Mr. Grant, what are we watching?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marc is trying really hard not to move. The shift had been smooth, and you hadn’t even realized, your gaze completely fixed to the TV. He wanted to keep it that way for a little longer, unsure if he’s ready to face your anger, or worse -

Your disappointment.

But as always, you seem to figure it out yourself, pausing the movie, and turning to sit with your legs crossed, facing him. “Hi,” you whispered, smiling softly.

Marc just stared at you in astonishment.

“How did you know?”

You shrugged, “I knew the second you fronted.”

He raises his eyebrows, and you giggle, “It’s your body language. Steven is more…relaxed,” you say.

He nods, looking at the TV screen. He wants you to yell at him. To tell him that he isn’t worthy of your love.

Because he always messes up.

But you don’t.

Of course, you don’t.

It’s why he loves you. Because you always give him time to explain. To think and to process.

He looks at you again, your eyes calm and waiting and so warm. It fills the empty chill inside of him, covering him from head to toe with the cozy feeling.

“I had a nightmare,” he mutters. You deserve an explanation, even if it’s the shittiest thing he could have done in that situation.

You nod, taking his hands in yours. You don’t ask him to continue, just quietly sitting there, your silence speaking volumes.

I’m here. I’m listening.

And Marc’s eyes spill over with tears, the memories flooding his brain, as he tells you why he’d disappeared.

“Sh-She was there. And so was - so was Randall, an-and all the people I’ve killed, and -” his breath hitches, the last nightmare swimming in his thoughts. He can almost feel it all again.

Your lifeless eyes.

The blood on his hands. Your blood.

“I killed you,” he whispers, “I killed you just like everyone else, just like -”

He’s cut off as you engulf him in a hug, his face pressed against your shoulder. You run your hands up and down his back, “It’s ok, it’s ok baby. I’m here,” you whisper again and again. Marc believes it more every time you say it. Letting your voice guide him to reality.

“I woke up and I felt terrible,” he says against your shoulder. He pulls away, your hands still holding his forearms. He feels empty with the loss of contact, but he wants you to know that he knows he shouldn’t have run.

“I got drunk and then some dude started saying some shit,” he mutters, shaking his head, “Guess I was already too hammered ‘cause I don’t remember what it was. I just remember a fight”

You nod, thumbs stroking his arms gently. “But I should’ve seen the other guy huh?”

Marc chuckles, “Yeah, yeah you should’ve seen the other guy.”

You grin, bending over and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He wants to ask you why you do what you do. Wants to know why you’ve stayed, why you aren’t angry right now.

He also wants to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but you’re shaking your head. “I do wish you’d woken me up or something, but I’m not mad. I was just worried.”

He can’t comprehend why you’re so understanding. So patient. It’s foreign to him, and he’s not sure how to react.

“Why are you still here?” he blurts out, the need to know has gotten too strong for him to keep it in any longer.

Confusion makes its way to your face, brows furrowed together, head tilted.

He thinks you look cute.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“I don’t know why you haven't left me. I-I’m - We’re fucked up,” he says. There was no going back now.

Your arms slip from their position, holding his hands instead, “Because I love you. All 3 of you.”

“Yeah I-I know. But I mean, we’re not that special,” he laughs dryly. He hates himself for bringing this topic up. His eyes flicker to everything but you, afraid of what he might see.

“Marc,” you call, “Marc look at me,” you cup his face, as his eyes land on you, nothing but confidence etched onto them.

“I don’t see you for your past. When I look at you, I don’t see what you’ve been through. I don’t see your trauma. I see you. The man I fell in love with. I look at Steven and I see a goofy little idiot,” you pause, smiling softly, “I see Jake and I see someone who flirts so much that I feel like my heart won’t stay in my chest,” you pause again, laughing lightly and Marc is extremely grateful that there aren’t any mirrors in this room. He doesn’t want to hear their boasting.

“And Marc when I look at you, I see your strength. Your ability to stand up again no matter what happens? I fucking love it. I love how much you care about people. About Steven, and Jake.” You run your thumb across his cheekbone, and Marc has to use all of his energy to keep himself from crying again. “You deserve so much love. I know that you don’t believe it. But I will be there to remind you. Again and again. As long as it takes, because you’re mine and I’m never gonna let you go.”

Marc can’t digest it all. It’s too much kindness. He’s never been given anything in life and it feels like you’ve just dumped all of your love on him.

You guide his face forward, foreheads resting against each other.

“Even if it takes a really long time?” he whispers.

You nod. “I will remind you and shower you with love, until I no longer have a heart to love with.”

Marc smiles, and it feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest.

It’s new, this feeling, but he’s loving it.

“And I love your eyes. And your smile. And your curls. I love everything about you,” you whisper.

He pulls away slightly, an eyebrow raised, “Everything?”

Red creeps up to your cheeks, “I was trying to have a moment here you asshole!” you say swatting his arm, a smile tugging at your lips.

Marc laughs, the feeling rising from his chest and filling him completely.

He pulls you towards him, “I love you too,” he mutters, before connecting your lips.

And he means every ounce of it.

Just like you’d said, you were his, and he was never gonna let you go. Ever.

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patukkaas · 1 year

Note

Could you do a Blue Diamond x Red Diamond (fem reader! or GN!) where red is passionate about life on earth?

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Thank you for the request

Unfortunately you didn't specify if you wanted a oneshot or headcanons so I'll do headcanons.

I have horrible writers block so this turned out so bad and short I'm really sorry.

Blue Diamond x Red Diamond! Reader

Warnings: None

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

▪︎ You were obviously hiding it from the diamonds that you even somewhat liked Pink's colony.

▪︎ But being as close as you were with Blue, you had accidently slipped it while talking to her.

▪︎ She wasn't suprised but neither was she expecting it.

▪︎ You didn't want to go through with the colony.

▪︎ But it wasn't like anybody would listen so you kept it secret.

▪︎ You prayed the other Diamonds would listen to Pink's whining about not wanting to go through with the colony.

▪︎ While Pink was begging to you, Yellow and Blue, Blue kept glancing at you knowing you didn't want to go through with the colony either.

▪︎ But, you had to teach Pink to go through with what she's started and theres nothing else to that.

▪︎ But after Pink's shattering, Blue was devastated and you had to be there to comfort her.

▪︎ But you were, relieved? That earth was saved, even if Pink had gotten shattered in the process. You knew she wanted earth to be saved, her wish would be completed by Rose Quartz.

▪︎ Blue also knew that you weren't as devastated as her. And she knew you were relieved.

▪︎ When the diamonds wanted to blast every gem off earth, you didn't want to participate in the blasting.

▪︎ After it was revealed that Rose Quartz was Pink diamond and Rose Quartz had a 'son', you were extra relieved knowing Earth was alright and Pink Diamond was too, but just in another form.

▪︎ After Pink's son wanted to stay back on earth, needless to say you were honestly proud of him. ▪︎ having studied earth's life and then trying to teach it to blue

▪︎ You knew what son, mother, father and the earthly terms meant so you had no trouble adjusting to him.

▪︎ You knew Steven wasn't Pink Diamond, but Steven had his mother's spirit.

▪︎ And when you, Yellow, Blue and White took in Spinel in "replace" for Steven, you and Blue acted as if you were parents to her, together ofcourse.

▪︎ Not having earthly realitionship statuses, you liked Blue and Blue liked you. And that way it was, and because of Steven and the earth, White and Yellow didn't judge you and Blue for it.

#x reader #fanfiction #headcanons #fanfic #gender neutral reader #x you fluff #blue diamond x reader #blue diamond #steven universe x reader #steven universe #red diamond

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layla4567 · 10 months

Text

I'm just a librarian ✿

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Summary: You work in a library in the middle of London, you get paid well and you love your little reading space surrounded by books that rise to the highest ceiling. But one day your normality will be turned upside down when a guy comes looking for some books on Egyptian history.

A/N: Ok first of all I must say that this idea arose from a little dream I had (and I also wanted to use the image from the movie The Mummy, I mean, just look at her, she is beautiful, she looks like Belle) second, I don't know if this will have more parts the truth is I'm not good at making long stories because then I leave them unfinished or I run out of ideas so, yes, I'm building this as I go along, sorry.

Part 2

And here I am once again, sitting behind the counter where you could see an old green lamp, a couple of books stacked one on top of the other, a typewriter and a little badge where you could read my name. With my legs crossed I moved my airborne foot rhythmically back and forth following a silent melody while my face rested lazily on my hand. My view was always directed towards the large windows that were near the line where the roof began. They were in the shape of a half circle and had a nice drawing similar to a stained glass window through which the sunlight passed in a warm way.

I loved being around libraries just for the sake of being a bookworm. I could spend hours reading old books sitting in a comfortable chair enjoying the silence without realizing it. But it was kind of boring to sit and wait for people to arrive so that you could help them with whatever they needed. I had already finished arranging the books with the help of the ladder, I loved doing it, it was fun to slide from one side to the other, it was almost like skating.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize someone had entered the library until they were in front of me so I gave a little jump in my seat.

"Oh so sorry! did I scare you? It wasn't my intention"

The person who addressed me was a very polite and kind middle-aged man, he had an innocent look in those pretty dark eyes he had. He was wearing a jean jacket and underneath was a white shirt, he was also wearing khaki pants and had a brown shoulder strap on one side.

"Don't worry, It's okay, I was just thinking, can I help you with something?"

I could not stop seeing his eyes, his look gave off a peculiar innocence glow, I could sense a genuinely beautiful aura like that of a child

"Well, yes. I was looking for books on Egyptian history, you know, gods and pharaohs, myths, pyramids, etc."

Every time he spoke his face would light up with enthusiasm, it was admirable to see

"Sure, we have several. Follow me please"- I said while my smile deepened

I led him through the aisles looking for the "Ancient Egypt" section by the gigantic shelves. The man meekly followed me like a lap dog without taking his eyes off me as he clung to his backpack. When we had reached the section, I took out 4 books, stacking them one on top of the other and numbering them as I handed them over to him.

" "History of Egypt", "Gods and mythologies", "Encyclopedia of the pyramids" and "The 10 most famous figures of ancient Egypt" And remember to return everything within 15 days "

I piled the books in the arms of that man who tried with effort to hold them since they were quite large and hardcover while I raised a finger and recited the prayer from memory. Even though the books were about to fall out of his hands, the man looked from the books to me with a beaming smile.

"Of course, yes, miss, I will do so. Thank you very much for your help"

I smiled generously at the man's good manners and walked him to my desk to finish the paperwork. I sat as the middle-aged man patiently watched me with his books in his arms like a child waiting for his Christmas present.

"Ok, I will give you a paper with the exact date where you must return the books along with our address, I would only need to know your name to write it down please"- I looked at him expectantly

"Steven Grant, Steven with a V"

I couldn't help but laugh at the clarification as if I didn't know how to write his name

"I clarify it just in case. A lot of people always misspell it, sometimes they call me Stephen. But surely you wrote it well, you seem to have nice handwriting hehe"

Steven giggled nervously as I smirked in amusement. What a singular man that Steven was

"No problem, what a nice name you have"- I smiled warmly

Steven got more nervous and his face begins to take on a cute reddish color as he stuttered and mumbled a thank you.

"By the way, my name is Y/n"

I told him, pointing with a fingernail to my badge that was resting on the desk. He looked at it for a while and smiled

"Now I won't forget"

And with one free hand he gave me a childish wave as he uttered a sweet "Laters gators" and headed for the exit. With one elbow on the table and my hand resting on my cheek, I watched him until he disappeared through the door.

"Steven.."

I pronounced his name slowly delighting myself with the syllables, it was sweet as honey and resonant as a bell. I was wondering if I would see him around here more often. I sighed with a lopsided smile and went back to staring at the stained glass windows waiting for someone else to come and help them.

The days passed and I didn't hear from Steven, he hadn't returned the books within the agreed period and I was beginning to worry. He supposed that this man was a little distracted or had forgotten or was busy with something important, anyway it was very common for people not to return the books on time and to be a little late. My head was full of thoughts hoping nothing bad happened to Steven and hoping to see him again when someone stormed through the library entrance.

"I'm really sorry!! I got there as fast as I could, apparently I fell asleep and woke up in a place full of sand. I have a sleep disorder, I'm sorry"

Steven was talking fast, spitting out the words like a machine gun, he looked agitated and his hair was messy. And on his face you could see the nervousness and concern. I tried to reassure him

"Steven, Steven calm down, it's okay. I get it, you don't have to apologize."

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard trying to provide warmth and protection. Steven giggled nervously and his cheeks turned pink, it was adorable.

"Oh by the way, here are the books"

Steven took out of his bag the books in perfect condition that I had given him. At least he was a man of his word

"Thank you very much Steven, do you want any other books?"

"Well actually yes, if it's not a bother, wouldn't you have one that talks about the moon god Khonsu?"-he said something nervous

I laughed in amusement

"Of course! We have many books on Egyptian gods, take the ones you want"-I said tenderly

Steven for some reason gave me a strange feeling, a maternal need to protect him, he looked so helpless at times. I can't even imagine how chaotic his life must be

"You know something? Why don't I buy you a coffee? I'll give you the new books and then we can hang out and chat, I have a break in 15 minutes."

Apparently Steven didn't expect that so he got even more red.

"I-Is it some kind of date?"

"If you want to see it that way, yes"

Steven smiled like a kid in a toy store and followed me back to the bookshelves. After giving him everything he needed, he waited for me at the entrance of the library like a true gentleman. I left my position in charge of my partner Selma who answered me with a grunt and left with Steven towards the nearest cafeteria.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

We sat at a table close to the street. The cafeteria was decorated with flowers and vines, it was my favorite, it made it look Parisian. We both ordered a simple latte and to eat I ordered a croissant with chocolate and he asked for a kind of vegan burrito, then he explained to me that he doesn't eat anything that comes from animals.

"Well Steven tell me something about yourself, do you have a job?"

"Yes, I'm working in a gift shop at the British Museum. But I would really love to be the one who makes the guides"

"Really? Amazing! who'd say? You are a museum and history enthusiast and I am a bookworm willing to provide you with all the information you want."

We both laughed happily forgetting what was happening around us. Steven's laugh was like sweet nectar to my ears that made all my worries disappear. Except for one that was still on my mind

"Wait a second, how come you woke up in a place full of sand? Where exactly?"

"I have no idea, I wish I knew. But it's not the first time it's happened to me, one day I woke up on top of Everest"

Steven started laughing downplaying it and I laughed too but with less enthusiasm. I was worried about him.

"Well I think I should go back to my work, thanks for everything I really needed to talk to someone and distract myself"

I looked at Steven tenderly, thinking that I was probably the only person he could talk to broke my heart.

"Anytime Steven. Anyway, I also have to go back to work, the time flies by when you talk"

I left a tip on the table and was about to go to the library when Steven stopped me with a question.

"Would you like to visit me one day at the museum? It's that I always visit you...-"

"I'd love to"

We said goodbye with a smile as if we were lifelong friends and each one went their own way to continue with their work on that beautiful afternoon in London.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sorry if it was boring and there wasn't much interaction with Steven but this is just the first part of the story

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franzzkafkaa · 4 months

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stevie and his girl <3

i love steve sooooooooo much <3333

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

#stevie<3 #steve x reader #steve harrington ×fem reader #steve harrington × reader #steve harrington #steven universe #steve #steve my beloved #steve my love of my life <3 #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #stranger things x y/n #stranger things #stranger things s4 #steve harrington ×reader #steve harrington my darling #steve fluff #vi's moodboards ♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱

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mydearsteven · 1 year

Note

Would you be willing to do a continuation of Steven splitting himself from his gem self, but like in kinda headcanons about how he would act, and other things that would happen between them and with the reader? Is this too much? If it is you can delete this. <3

Double Stevens HCs!!

featuring: Teen!Steven x Reader x Pink Steven

constant fighting.

mainly from og Steven though, even though Pink Steven IS practically him- he still doesn’t trust Pink Steven completely.

for the sake of my sanity, we’ll call Pink Steven Steve for now.

Steve would occasionally tug you(its his way of showing affection) and you’ll give him a hug!!

that is until you saw a tired Steven with bags under his eyes coming towards you at a rapid speed.

Steven glued himself to you and gave you a pout since he’s super busy and tired.

“___..! im super tired.. can we uhm you know..”

shy<3

knowing what he means, you just laughed at him and gave him a bone crashing hug.

leading him to his bed and he crushed you so that you lay down with him.

well that WAS his plan until Steve interrupted his plan.

Steve suddenly appears and lay down beside you, making your once faced towards him now turning towards Steve.

Steven pouts once again and hug you from behind your back while glaring at Steve.

Steve hust had his usual blank stare and plays with your hands.

you take a look at Steven and could feel the intense glare he’s giving to Steve.

rolling your eyes you kissed his cheek to shut him down, you look at him as red starts to form on his cheeks.

he has that goofy smile on his face and put his hand on the spot that was kissed by you.

on other times, you’ll find yourself sitting on the dinner table looking at Steven and Steve had a very intense staring contest of looking at you.

they probably made a bet, whoever got your attention wins.

you ofcourse love them both since they’re both Steven Universe, decided to ignore them.

trying to win your attention, Steve put a lot more thoughts on his stuff and Steven being a lot more touchy than usual.

at the end of the day, they both fused together and received your love<3

#steven universe #steven universe au #steven universe fandom #steven universe future #pink steven #steven universe fanfic #steven universe headcanon #steven universe imagine #steven universe x reader #steven x reader #x reader #steven universe steven #fluff

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pogostikk · 4 months

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Clown Steven loves Earth entirely. The life, the people, the family he never knew, etc,. But his favorite part is how much more he got to know Connie. How big her smile could get, the many outfits she had, the hair clips she puts in her hair, how joyful her voice is when she says his name.

#Steven’s first friend was a grumpy teenage girl missing home and afraid for her family #his first crush was this #steven universe #su au #human steven #connverse #connie maheswaran #I like fluff so sweet it’s sickening #getting sappy abt them after talking about alcoholic star #I need to draw a Connie that isn’t so ooc more

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thisisarcanereverie · 1 year

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May i request a Yandere Moonknight System with a reader who’s like visiting London on work or something and they meet one of the boys. over their stay they get close as the boys show them around London and they sort of ignore the fact reader eventually has to leave untill they tell the boys they’re leaving the next day and they snap and take reader. Idk if that makes sense. 🤍

Cutting Ties (Dark! Moon Knight x Reader)

A/N: This is Part 1 of a 3 Part fic. This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others. (I got a little carried away with this idea Anon so thank you for the suggestion)

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, English is my first language I just suck at it. I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

You weren’t sure what it was about London, maybe it was the almost constant cloud looming over the city-or perhaps it was the way you barely understood what the people around you were saying- but you didn’t get what all the hype was about. Yes, it was beautiful if you put a filter over it looking at it through a tourist’s perspective. However, looking past all the buzz and touristy wonder, it was just like every other city- gray, busy, and foul smelling–filled to the brim with more people than it could possibly provide for. The only difference was the currency and the fact that everyone sounded like they came out of either Downtown Abbey or Derby Girls.

You sighed as you reminded yourself that you were only going to be stuck here for another year, until this identity expired, then you got to go somewhere else, maybe somewhere warm and remote. Though you doubt it, that’s the thing about being on the run–you don’t get to choose where you go. You’ve been running close to 8 years now, almost a decade. Ever since Natasha Romanoff sent the Red Room hurdling from the sky and freed every Widow in the process, including you. How you got here exactly was a very long story, with parts you would rather not relive.

You looked out the window of the bus, filled with thoughts of nothing but warm places with lots of sun and color with next to no people around. You could probably stay there longer than usual, hell maybe forever if you were careful. You could feel a small smile gracing your features as you thought of a nice, quaint home; decorated with plants, a nice kitchen to practice cooking in–oh and a sunroom that doubled as a greenhouse of sorts. You started making a list of flowers you would like to grow when you felt a sudden, foreign weight on your shoulder. You turned your head away from the silver light of the window towards the dark mess of curls next to you. You recognize him almost immediately, you don’t know his name but he always got off at that museum you’ve been meaning to visit, he always looked so tired with dark almost bruise like circles under his eyes; his dark hair almost in a permanent state of unkempt. You looked at his face a bit longer before your eyes trailed to his hands, his knuckles were white with how harshly he was gripping his bag and sweat was starting to form on his brow. A nightmare. You got those as well.

As gently as you could you shook him, it didn’t take much until he bolted upright and took a few very sharp breaths. You could see his eyes dart erratically in fear before finally settling on you, you couldn’t help but remark on the lovely shade of brown his eyes were. A moment or two passed by before his eyes met the ground and his cheeks flushed.

“I’m so sorry” he hurriedly apologized, eyes still trained on the ground, “didn’t realize I nodded off there.”

“It’s quite alright,” you assured smiling gently at him, “if you don’t mind me asking but do you suffer from nightmares often?” his eyes went from the ground back at you, “I don’t mean to pry it’s just that I’ve seen you a few times on here and you always look exhausted.”

“Yeah um,” he cleared his throat, “I, uh, I would guess so– not that I can’t tell the difference– it’s just complicated to explain–not that I wouldn’t tell you if I could, it’s just the best way I can explain it and I probably sound like such a knob.” You hold in a slight chuckle as his cheeks flush even more.

“I don’t think so,” you say, “I get those kinds of dreams often as well. The ones you feel like they belong to someone else…but not at the same time, I guess it really is difficult to explain out loud.” you hold out your hand and introduce yourself as the man beside you hesitantly accepts it.

“Steven Grant.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

That was almost a year ago, after introducing yourselves you gave him your number (which he called not even an hour after he got off the bus). At first you would just meet up for tea but tea quickly became more intimate. You would call each other during the nights that were the hardest to sleep or to dream. You would tell him about your hope to live somewhere remote one day, in a place full of sunshine and color and he would be silent and listen. It wasn’t long until he confided in you about his condition, and you met Marc Spector and Jake Lockely respectively.

You weren’t sure why but when Marc appeared he seemed familiar, for a moment you wondered if you had met him at some point but you were sure that you would’ve remembered. The Red Room forced you to have a good memory after all.

Jake on the other hand was completely different from Steven and Marc, where Steven was shy and Marc stiff, Jake was suave. He had kissed your hand and said dirty things to you in spanish, to which you surprised him by replying fluently and dirtier.

After some time you grew comfortable with Marc and Jake and went on dates with them as well. For a while you were happy, first time ever since coming to London. You were practically living in Steven’s small flat and you spent your days living as a normal person would. You pretended not to notice the weird things, like them leaving in the middle of the night or the strange looks they would sometimes get looking at absolutely nothing. You never pried or judged, it wasn’t like you aired out all the skeletons in your closet either. You never told them your real name (or at least the name the Red Room gave you) or where you came from or basically anything of substance at all about your past. You didn’t want to, it wasn’t like you didn’t trust them, but you feared what would happen if you did tell them. Tell them your real name, that you used to be a Black Widow and killed people. That the reason why you hated the color red was because it reminded you of the Red Room and the blood that stained your hands, how your nightmares were memories and that ghosts that haunted you refused to die.

Somewhere along the way you started to forget that this life you were living with your job and your boys wouldn’t last forever. That sooner or later reality creeps in and brutally murders the fantasy you have created and as you hold the almost expired passport in your hand you remember the cold truth. That you never should’ve gotten involved, that you slipped and got attached and worst of all..you’d gotten someone else attached as well. Without you knowing the year you had left in London was almost up, in less than two months you will be off again to a new corner of the world with a new name and a new life.

Deep down though you knew, knew that you couldn’t not go. Choosing to remain this person you’ve created with her perfectly normal job with her perfectly normal life with her not so normal–but still perfect–boyfriend was never an option. Too many people want you, for various reasons from recruitment to revenge for what you did as a Widow; and those people would stop at nothing to get to you, even if that meant hurting someone you’ve loved.

You’re doing this, for them, you had to leave. There was no other option, and it was better to break it off now rather than leaving in the middle of the night. You fought the urge to be selfish, to keep living this life with them until you board your one way flight. So with a deep breath you stuffed your passport back into its folder in the drawer you owned and grabbed your trench coat and umbrella. You did not let a single tear fall as you hauled a cab to take you to the familiar route to their flat. You tried not to think at all, you knew if thought for a little too long you would talk yourself out of this. You knew this would probably be easier over text, you wouldn’t need to tell those big brown eyes goodbye and see them fill with tears or hate. It would be so easy…but you couldn’t. You knew that if you didn’t end it in person Steven, Marc, or Jake would show up at your door and wouldn’t leave until you did what you were doing right now. Telling them in person that it was over.

You didn’t waste time when the cab stopped in front of his building, you told the driver to wait and that you would be back down in just a few moments. Your heels clacked against the wet pavement towards the door which a kind, elderly neighbor of Steven’s you’ve gotten to know opened the door for you to which you smiled and thanked him. Every move you made was robotic, you weren’t even thinking you were just on auto pilot. Hoping that they wouldn’t be able to tell the slight shake in your hand or how stiff you were. You reminded yourself that you were doing this for them, and for you as well.

You entered the lift and pressed the button for their floor, the fluorescent light flickers a few times and the hum and rattle of the wires lifting the metal box do nothing to quiet the thrumming of your heart. Seconds pass by like hours before finally the sliding doors reveal the dimly lit hallway. One you’ve walked through dozens of times by now looks more like death row. You let not one tear drop as you walked, you couldn’t–you couldn’t let those doubting thoughts and happy memories pass through your head as you knocked on his door. Hearing a shuffling and the clattering of dishes before you hear them walk to the door. You could tell by the slight difference in gait that Steven was fronting and it hurt. You had hoped silently that it wouldn’t be him, your sweet Steven, with his unkempt curls and goofy grin. One who read you facts about Egyptian mythology and ancient history during stormy nights, who woke you from nightmares and held you gently like you were the most precious thing to ever exist. The sleepy man on the bus who laid his head on your shoulder and slept, who called you not even an hour after giving him your number. Please not him.

He opened the door and sure enough it was Steven.

“There you are love,” He said, a wide smile adorning his face as he ushered you in, “Me and the boys were wondering where you were,” he kissed your cheek and took your coat, “dinners almost ready if you need to wash up.” You stood there motionless, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t the first time you’ve cut ties with someone that you’ve cared for. However this was different, he was different. Steven, Marc, and Jake were probably the first people you’ve ever loved. You would do anything for them, anything, as long as they lived and were content and happy.

Even if it meant hurting them.

Even if it meant you could only watch from afar.

You took in a deep breath, willed your heart to stop beating before speaking.

“Steven.” He stopped immediately, you never called him by his name, only ever called him your sweetheart, or baby, or whatever other nickname came into mind but never his name. He turned away from the little stovetop and looked at you. You willed your voice to not falter as you continued, “we all need to talk.”

“Oh god,” Steven whispered, “how bad?”

“We need to talk,” You said not answering, “please.”

Wordlessly Steven turned the stove off as he made his way to you, you held up your hand when he was only a few steps away.

“Are they present?” You asked.

“They weren’t before but now they are,” He said, eyes furrowing in worry, “we’re starting to get a little worried love what’s going on?”

“I,” you start before swallowing the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat, “I’ve gotten a call from the main office, they’re relocating me in a few months to help on a different classified project.”

“Oh,” Steven said with confusion written all over his face, “where?”

“That’s classified.” You said, nails biting into your palm to stop yourself from getting emotional.

“When will you be back?”

Silence fills the room, you bite back the urge to say anything that would give him hope. After a few seconds you see his eyes widen as he looks at the mirror beside you.

“No,” he said to the mirror, “no, no she’s not,” he turns to you with tears pricking his dark eyes making them shine, “love, tell them that you’re not-”

“I am,” you say, careful to keep a cold tone despite the urge to cry, “I’m not coming back. It’s a permanent relocation.”

“But you can still come to visit,” he says hurriedly, tears still pricking his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair, “we-we, we can um, we can face-call or um, or we can text and call and we can make this work, I know we can make this work love.” you opened your mouth to say something when he cut you off, a few tears leaking through and leaving wet streaks down his cheek, “or you could tell them no, tell them that you refuse the offer!”

“I can’t say no,” you said gently.

“Yes you can,” Steven said, his large hands gripping your shoulders, “you can tell them no.”

“I can’t Steven,” you tell him, “I’ll lose my job if I do and I can’t.”

“Then we can face call,” he says, his hands now cradling your face, leaving small kisses on your face that feel like knives in your heart, “we can make this work.”

“We can’t,” you said as you gently pry his hands from your face, you reach into your pocket and grab the spare key he gave you after a month into your relationship and put it in his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” Steven says silently, his head hung, his crying seemingly subsided “can you please stay, stay with me, be with me until you go.”

A moment of silence happens, for a moment you reconsider, but then you kiss his lips. Salt and vegan chocolate stain your tongue until you pull back, resting your forehead against his momentarily. You imagine what life you could’ve had with them, one full of good days and bad days. You’d adopt a cat with him, you would laugh as he declared the cat his mortal enemy for looking at Gus for a moment too long. You’d save up together and buy a nice cottage in the countryside, maybe you’d get married, maybe you wouldn’t. But you could imagine what it would be like to grow old with him, when your hair would turn white and gray, when your skin would start to sag and he would still be there to tell you you’re as beautiful as the day he met you on that small bus all those years ago. It’s a nice life, one you know you would be more than content with.

But you know it’s not a life you can have.

“Goodbye.”

With that you left, closing the door behind you and walking to the lift. Walking away from the life you knew you could never live, not without constantly looking over your shoulders. You knew secrets always have ways of coming to the light, so even if you did stay how long would it be until he discovered yours. How long until he has a gun to his head and a target on his back? No, this was the choice, this was the only option. You made the right call, while you may not get to live that life; he still could. He’ll find someone else, someone to love and who will hopefully love him as much.

The doors slid closed and the wires hummed and groaned as they lifted you back down where the cab was waiting. You decided to walk and paid the cab for their time. You knew with the heels you were wearing you would regret it later but you didn’t care, you needed some time to think. You walked through the lit streets, you watched as people laughed and a few occasionally public criers. You stopped and waved at the living statue man that Steven introduced to you before walking on. This was a path that you and the boys would walk sometimes, they didn’t like going out much and neither did you, but the exercise did you good. You checked your phone to see how much time you had left before you had to board your flight. It seemed like you had enough time to go home, grab your duffle and carry on before the cab you called before you left arrived.

“Excuse me miss,” You turned to see a little girl no older than ten addressing you. She was a small thing, with dark curls and even darker eyes, she dressed as a white gown with a flower crown. “Do you care for some flowers?” You remember briefly seeing similarly dressed kids in the plaza not too far away, you gathered that maybe she had wandered away from the group unnoticed.

“You know what,” You kneeled down to her height, “I would love some flowers, but first let’s get you back to your group alright?” the girl looked around as if she’s realizing she’s not where she’s supposed to be, for a moment you’re worried about her crying as you see tears start forming in her eyes. You take the hand not holding onto the small basket of flower seeds gently, “don’t cry little one, we’ll get you back to your group all safe and sound.” You see her nod as she holds your hand in her tiny one as you lead her back to the brightly lit plaza just a few buildings away. She points to two women frantically looking and calling out a name. You let her hand go and watch as she runs towards who you assume are her mothers.

“Oh my stars,” you hear the taller woman breathe out in relief, “where did you run off too?”

“I-I went to go give flowers.” You heard the little girl sniffle before she pointed at you, “she helped me.” You gave a small awkward smile and wave before the smaller woman gave you a hug.

“Thank you so much,” She said before letting you go. “We were talking with the play director for one mo and the next-”

“No need,” you said, “she’s a sweet kid, adventurous too apparently.”

“You have no idea.” the mother sighed as she looked at the now giggling child in her wife's arms, “Angie loves to get into trouble.” you see her smile before returning her gaze back to you, “anyways thank you again.”

“No problem,” you say before turning your eyes towards Angie and her taller mother, “it was nice to meet you, and you too Angie–listen to your mum’s.” you went to walk away before you felt a soft tug on your sleeve. You looked down to see Angie holding up a packet of flower seeds to you.

“Here’s your flower miss,” Angie said sweetly, tears long gone, “thank you for helping me find my mum’s.” you gently take the packet of seeds from her and smile,

“you’re welcome, good luck with your play.” You said as you waved her goodbye as she went to take her place next to the various other children in similar attire. You stood there a moment longer, watching this small family you’ve encountered. All you’ve ever known of family was what the Red Room told you of. Your birth certificate was destroyed along with every other Widow’s, even then you doubt that your parents still walked the earth. Dreykov wasn’t one to leave loose ends.

You walked away from the plaza then, away from the brightly lit place and back onto dimly lit streets making your way past the few passersby and back to your building where a single duffle bag and carry on waited for you.

You had been brave the entire day, you had not let a single tear drop but once the door to your flat closed behind you all the resolve you had crumbled. You slid down the door as tears profusely fell down your cheeks leaving hot traces behind. You couldn’t hold back the sobs that had threatened to come out earlier. Your fingers shakily trace your lips as you hold onto the last kiss you shared with him. Your hand then went to your chest and clutched the material of your shirt as a sharp, throbbing pain in your chest grew. Every part of you was screaming, all for different things. There was physical pain like the ache in your feet and the pain in your chest, but the emotional pain–that was the worst of it. This was the kind of pain that teetered between hell and heaven.

So this was it.

This was heartbreak.

You don’t know how long you stayed there–teetering–but you knew you couldn’t be long. Soon you would have to pick yourself up, bite through every step as though it didn’t feel like you were walking on glass, grab that duffle and carry on, and leave. You let out a bitter smile as you remember that fateful day you met your boys, how you were planning on what flowers to plant in that dream home of yours. You reached into your pocket and grabbed that small bag of flower seeds.

Purple Hyacinth.

Sorrow

You laughed at the irony.

How fitting.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“What do you mean my flight is canceled?”

“Just what I mean ma’am, the weather report-”

“It’s bloody London, has there ever been a clear sunny sky in London?”

“No..bu-”

“Alright,” you sigh, pinching the bridge between your brows, “I’m not trying to be difficult, I know you’re just doing your job, are there any flights cleared to take off?” You see the person type a few buttons on their keyboard and a few clicks of the mouse before looking back at you with false sympathy.

“I’m sorry ma’am all the ones cleared already took off.”

Shit, that leaves you with two options: going back to the flat or staying at the airport until morning…with a sigh you grab your bags and get ready to grab a late taxi back to your place. At least there you could shower and cry in private. First thing tomorrow morning you’ll get on the next plane to, you look at your ticket again Cincinnati, Ohio. At least you won’t stay there, your inside guy did you a solid and got you away from people. You’ll be in a small property big enough for one in a small town. It wasn’t ideal but at least you were away from the city stench. You’ll have to drive to places this time instead of hailing a cab, but you didn’t mind. All in all, it was an ok set up, much more preferable than your previous arrangement.

You tried to hail a cab for ten minutes, everyone that passed was either already paid or just didn’t see you. Eventually you thought you were going to have to bite the bullet and sleep on the uncomfortable airport lounges when a cab finally pulled up. You thanked god as you put your luggage in the trunk and got into the backseat.

“Where to miss?” the man asked, you didn’t even look at him as you replied. Instead watching the water drip steadily down the window pane.

“Too bad for the weather eh?” This driver asked in a thick cockney accent.

“Yeah I guess,” you replied, “though I guess it fits.” silence passes before he replies.

“Tough day issit?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” you said, closing your eyes, “it just doesn’t end.”

“Know what that’s like,” he replies, “I had a share of bad days myself.”

“Oh yeah?” You responded.

“Like today,” You hear him respond, “I burned my hand while making dinner for me and my girlfriend, we’ve been going on for a year or so by now. She is the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen, inside and out. Anyways the day only gets worse from there, she comes about half an hour early to dinner without warning. I knock my poor toe on the way to the door to let her in; hurt like anything. So I open the door, she’s as radiant as ever, only she’s got this sad look in her eyes, something I’ve never seen before. Turns out, she’s been lying to me… she said her job was taking her away and that she wouldn’t be able to be with us anymore.” a sinking feeling settled into your stomach, “we begged, we pleaded but no. She was adamant, and then she left, without another word. Isn’t that cruel?” You open your eyes to look into the rearview mirror, a chill went through your body as your eyes met a familiar dark pair. “Isn’t it mi carissima?” the accent drops into the deep spanish accent. You’re about to open the door when you feel a pinch on the side of your neck, and slowly the world blurred and then faded into nothing.

(Here's Part 2)

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