#Steve's ending has bothered me for fucking YEARS and just NOW i figured out why
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(suicide cw) Okay so do y'all remember Ghost World and how it's commonly believed that when Enid gets on the bus and leaves town at the end it's a metaphor for her committing suicide?
Steve Rogers "going back in time to be with Peggy" at the end of Endgame.
#Steve's ending has bothered me for fucking YEARS and just NOW i figured out why#it's just so fucking depressing that he would do that. just completely GIVE UP on the life he had. on the friends he JUST brought back!#like he really hated his life that much?#captain america#avengers endgame#steve rogers#top tino post#mcu#santagno
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It starts in Eddie's second senior year, close to the beginning of the semester. Eddie's in trig (again). He's good at math, but Mundy fucking sucks, always giving Eddie shit for breathing, or his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, or whatever, and he ends up with detention most days. So, he hardly ever shows and can't be bothered to do the homework, even though he knows the answers more often than not.
On this particular day, Mundy is in a bad mood, on Eddie's case way more than normal. In the heat of frustration, Eddie scrawls, "I fucking hate this class" on a scrap of notebook paper, and for reasons he can't begin to explain, leaves it folded on the window ledge. He doesn't think anyone will answer; fully expects the paper to be gone come morning with maybe another detention slip under his belt to show for it. He's a little flabbergasted, the next day, when the note is still there, and loses his mind a little when he sees the words "tell me about it" underneath his first message. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, sloping and a little looped, and for most of the class period, he's too bemused to respond. Right before the final bell rings he scrawls, "trig. You?" He leaves the paper on the ledge again. "Algebra 2 :(" is the response.
They keep it up, just a few words at first, before Eddie accidentally doodles on the page, and the other guy scribbles a hasty formula, the math spectacularly wrong. There's a little arrow leading to the words, "this shit sucks." Eddie re-writes the formula with the correct math, leaving careful notations of how and why. The next day he sees, "Shit, dude, I totally get this now. Mundy should retire and let you take over." Which pleases Eddie down to his core.
The messages get longer, nothing super personal, but complaints about life, math help, Eddie's silly little doodles, bad jokes, the slightly lewd drawings typical of teen boys. Eddie's never had a better attendance record in his life, but there are some days where his notes are left unopened. Most remarkably a couple week period before Thanksgiving, where he goes unanswered for so long he figures whatever thing they had going is done. But after the holiday, the notes start up again, with no acknowledgement they ever stopped. Eddie doesn't bother questioning it.
They keep it up almost all year, and they're definitely friends, even though they're totally anonymous. And that wouldn't have changed, except it's the day before spring break and Eddie's vibrating out of his skin with anticipation of the time off, so he forgets his dnd notebook in Mundy's class. He makes it all the way to Click's before he realizes, then sprints back across the school. He crashes through Mundy's door, tripping a little over his own feet.
"Sorry," he pants. "I just left--" he looks over to his desk, far corner right by the window, and then forgets every word he's ever known because Steve Harrington Steve Harrington King Steve, stares right back at him. And he just. He stops and fucking laughs, because all this time--this whole goddamn year--it's been Harrington he exchanged notes with. And sure, the jock's star has fallen in the last few months, with the breakup with Nancy and all that shit with Hargrove, but it's still Steve Harrington. With his big house and his fancy car and his girls. It's pretty Steve Harrington, the focus of Eddie's most hopeless daydreams.
He has a few seconds to see Harrington's hazel eyes go wide, before Eddie spins on his heel and makes a hasty exit. He absolutely doesn't spend the break thinking about the notes, matching what Harrington wrote with the gossip Eddie heard on him from the past few months.
Once break ends, he doesn't bother going to Mundy's class at all.
The Friday of the first week back, Eddie walks out to his van, only to find King Steve leaning up against it. He's doing that obnoxious thing where he has one leg bent, foot resting against the side panel, arms crossed over his chest, stupid hair falling in glorious cascades around his face. It's ridiculously, unfairly attractive.
"What do you want?" Eddie asks. He opens his front door without fully looking at Steve.
"Can we talk?"
Eddie snorts, "what could you and I possibly have to talk about."
Steve narrows his eyes. It's so bitchy and so fucking cute it makes Eddie queasy. "You know what."
"Enlighten me, Harrington."
"C'mon, man, the notes!"
"What about them?
"Don't be stupid, Munson, you know what. Why'd you stop?"
Eddie pulls a pack of camels and his lighter out of his jacket pocket. "Lost its appeal once I knew who was on the other side. Surprised you even want to keep it up now that you know you've been writing to the freak."
He pointedly ignores the little jolt Harrington gives at that, like the words hurt. Which is pretty rich from Steve Harrington, former #1 bully of Hawkins High.
"I've always known it was you," he says.
"You don't--wait what?"
I've known since, like, the first week, Munson."
"How??"
"What do you mean 'how,' dude, you're always drawing little pentagrams and d20's. Writing the word "Slayer" over and over. Who else would it be?"
And he can't even deal with the fact that Harrington knows what a d20 is (what the fuck) with everything else the other boy just said.
"I gotta go," is his only response. He ducks into his van, slamming the door basically in Harrington's face, before peeling out of the parking lot.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
It's the last day of school. Eddie's failed again. His grades, which weren't great to begin with, took a sharp nosedive after spring break, and he just can't wait to be done with this place for a few months. Harrington hasn't spoken to him again, and Eddie tries his hardest to ignore the other boy (aside from seeing him hanging out with Robin Buckley, a junior and a band geek, besides, and he forcibly has to remind himself that he doesn't care what Harrington does).
He slouches into his last math class of the year, slumping over in his seat. He rests his head on his desk, eyes blankly staring out the window as Mundy talks about what a joy most of them were to have in class. His eyes are unfocused, he contemplates a nap, and then he sees it. The tightly folded piece of paper resting on the window ledge.
Eddie almost doesn't take it. He almost ignores it, but he physically can't stop himself for reaching for it, unfolding it, staring at Harrington's now familiar handwriting.
Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me. Buckley helped me see how that maybe freaked you out a little. I know I used to be a piece of shit. But I'm better--or I'm trying to be. And I'm so fucking sorry for the shit I did to you before and the things I didn't bother to stop. You don't owe me forgiveness, but you should know that I regret all of it. I liked passing notes with you. You made me laugh, and I don't know. It was nice to think someone liked me for reasons other than that I'm Steve Harrington, or whatever. I'd really like it if we could be friends. I get if you can't do that or don't want to.
Whatever the note actually ended with is scribbled out in pen so thick Eddie can't make it out.
All day he thinks about the note, the apology, all of it. Eddie thinks, if he's smart, he won't forgive Harrington. That he knows better than to trust him. But Eddie's never actually been that smart in this way, so he's not totally surprised to find himself walking to Steve's car after the last bell rings.
This time, Eddie's the one with his foot resting on the side panel of Steve's BMW, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't have to wait long before Harrington makes his way to the car, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze, biceps on display in a short-sleeve polo. A little smile dances across his lips when he spots Eddie.
"So, you gonna tell me how you know what a d20 is, Harrington, or do I have to guess?" Eddie offers the other boy a cigarette.
"Babysitting?
"Babys--Are you serious??" Eddie splutters. Steve Harrington babysits. Steve Harrington babysits little dnd playing nerds. Steve Harrington wants to be his friend.
A full grin spreads across Steve's perfect face and Eddie is absolutely, 100%, fucked.
(Part 2)
(Steddie Notes is now posted in full on ao3!)
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#one shot#sort of#sorry this is so long#it's going to be a series now#i already have parts 2 and 3 planned out#slow burn#sort of enemies to friends to lovers#season 2 au#eddie and steve are friends#note passing#robin buckley and steve harrington are friends pre season 3#stobin#steddie fic#eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington#dubious understanding of dnd#canon divergent au
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(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k
content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags
“My dad called.”
Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now?
It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son.
Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust.
Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong.
“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself.
“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.”
Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight.
“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging.
“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!”
His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.
“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off.
He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can.
But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.
“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”
Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.”
“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks.
“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?”
Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.”
He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace.
It’s only then that Steve speaks.
“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”
Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them.
“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree.
“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him.
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge.
Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen.
“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”
“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”
Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain.
“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow.
“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?”
“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”
Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him.
“Definitely.”
The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.
There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter.
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#myblurbs#(whispers): yeah so my mom fell off the wagon after 18 years at her fucking work party and this is basically just what my day was#our relationship has always been strained but since she got sober there was at least some contact?#anyways#replace wayne with my grandparents and this is just all projection baybee 😙✌️#super not cool with it BUT that's why there are some content warnings here you don't see from me very often 💕
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STWG Daily Drabble 2/1/24
ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @hitlikehammers who chose today's prompt. This one is for YOU!
Prompt: “I Couldn’t Lose You”
Set in post season 4, angst w/ a happy ending
featuring S3/4 Secret Situationship Steddie - post breakup
Rating: G | WC: 1407 | Ao3 link
“I Couldn’t Lose You”
Eddie opened the door.
It was a reflex, really.
Someone rings the bell, you answer the door. It’s an ingrained behavior, unconsciously done.
He didn’t think about the fact that he wasn’t expecting anyone, or that it was past midnight and a decidedly odd time for unexpected visitors. In his defense, he didn’t know the simple act of opening his door would mean stepping into the past, and facing down the worst heartbreak of his life head-on after running away to another State to avoid it.
“Oh.” Eddie gasped, the sound seeming to echo as the man on the other side of the doorway sucked in his own sharp breath.
Pain lanced through his chest as he set eyes on Steve Harrington. The man he loved, who he hadn’t seen in over two years.
“It’s really you.” Steve said, blinking hard as if he couldn't believe his eyes. “I didn’t… I knocked on so many doors. I didn’t know your apartment number and–”
“What are you doing here?” Eddie interrupted, aiming for a bored disinterested tone, but the words came out a little too breathless to pull it off.
He couldn’t help it. The only thing keeping him upright just then was the death grip he had on the doorframe.
What was Steve doing here? Eddie figured he and Nancy would have been halfway to the altar by now, if not already there.
“I…” Steve trailed off, dropping his gaze to the floor. He gave a wry huff of laughter and shook his head before looking back up with guarded eyes. “Just answer me one question, and I'll never bother you again.”
“Fine.”
Eddie’s heart was pounding so loudly in his chest he was sure the other man could hear it. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to stand here and look at Steve’s unfairly pretty face and remember. It’d taken him so long to forget, to be okay after… after.
“Why did you run?” Steve asked.
“I didn’t run. I moved.”
Steve scoffed. “Eddie, you snuck out in the middle of the night. We were both barely healed and I- I woke up and you were just gone. I went to your place and Wayne told me you’d packed your shit up in the van and left. No explanation, no note, nothing!”
Eddie shrugged. “I needed a change of scenery.”
“You could have told me!”
“I couldn’t.”
“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his eyes beginning to shimmer with anger. “It was like you died, Eddie! One day you were there and the next you were gone without a trace. No number to call, no forwarding address.”
“Wayne knew where I was.”
Steve shook his head, expression hardening. “It was like you fucking died! And I don’t… I just need to know why.”
Eddie deflated. Any chance of keeping his aloof demeanor intact was gone under the weight of Steve’s gaze. What was the point anyway? He might as well tell him the truth. Maybe then he would leave Eddie alone to begin the process of picking up the pieces of his shattered heart all over again.
“I couldn’t lose you.” Eddie began with a sigh. “I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you, so I left.”
Steve furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know. Trust me, I know. But after all that shit in the Winnebago with you and Nancy, I couldn’t just sit around and watch her take you from me. I thought If I left first, it wouldn’t hurt so much. I know that’s fucked up of me to say, as if you were ever mine to begin with, but–”
“I was.”
Eddie gulped, shaking his head reflexively. “No.” He breathed.
Steve's face softened and he reached out, cupping Eddie's cheek with an almost painful tenderness. “I was yours, Eddie, and I thought you were mine– or at least I wanted you to be. Looks like maybe I should have been more clear about that.”
“Then why did you say those things to her, about an R.V. and wanting six kids, and–”
“Jesus, is that what this has all been about?” Steve asked, dropping his hand from Eddie’s face and crossing his arms over his chest.
“There was also the eye-fucking.”
“Eddie.”
Eddie threw his hands up. “What was I supposed to think?! Here I was, falling head over heels in love with you, and the whole time you were dreaming about fucking off to Yellowstone or whatever with some picture perfect wife and your brood of equally picture-perfect children, like some non-musical version of the fucking Partridge family. Admit it, I was a detour. A glorified speed bump on your way to the life you actually wanted.”
“Baby-”
Eddie flinched hard at the use of the nickname, stumbling backwards out of Steve's reach. Horrifyingly he could feel tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. Even more horrifying was the fact that Steve was following him into the apartment and shutting the door. Hadn’t he done enough, now he had to literally invade Eddie’s home?
“Baby, please-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Fine. I-”
“Why are you still here? You got your answer. I don’t know what you needed it for but you can go back to your life with little miss perfect now.”
Eddie staggered to the couch, knowing if he didn’t sit soon his shaking legs would betray him. He pulled a throw pillow to his chest, hugging it tightly as he rested his chin on it.
Steve crouched down in front of him, but Eddie studiously ignored his gaze.
“What are you talking about? Nancy?”
“Or whoever the current little miss perfect is. I know you’re not picky.”
“Ouch.” Steve said, though not like the barb had actually stung. He reached out towards Eddie’s knee, moving slowly to give him every opportunity to protest.
He didn’t.
”There is no little miss perfect.” Steve said softly.
Eddie whined involuntarily. Squeezing the pillow tighter and tighter to his chest.
“It was true, what I said to Nancy in the RV. I did always have that dream. The part I didn’t get to say, because we were a little busy at the time, the part I would have told you if you’d asked me about it, is how the dream had changed. When you and I became, whatever we were back then, the dream became less about having 6 little Harringtons, and more about the person in the passenger seat. The one I really wanted to share my life with, the family we might build together by adopting our own kids some day, or the family we found with the little brats I can't seem to get rid of even though they’re about to graduate high school.”
Steve knelt down in front of Eddie more solidly, gently prying the pillow out of his iron grip. Eddie let it go. His eyes were locked on Steve’s as he let everything that was just said to him sink in.
“Say something, please.” Steve begged, taking both of Eddie’s hands in his.
“Is it still me?” Eddie croaked out, his throat tight as he fought not to cry. “In the passenger seat– is it still me, or did I fuck everything up?”
Steve smiled broadly, a few tears of his own escaping his eyes to roll down his cheeks. “I’ve been looking for you, all this time. I love you. Of course it’s still you, baby.”
Eddie surged forward, crashing his mouth into Steve’s. Their lips slotted together perfectly, just as they always had, as if no time had passed at all. Eddie threw his arms over Steve’s shoulders, pulling him close, as Steve wound his hands up into Eddie's hair, gently tugging.
They parted only when they had to, or else risk passing out from lack of oxygen. Eddie rested his forehead against Steve’s while they both caught their breath.
“I love you too… still… always. In case that wasn’t clear.”
Steve snorted the most unattractive laugh imaginable, but it was music to Eddie’s ears. He hadn’t heard that sound in far too long, and it warmed his heart almost as much as the kiss to know he’d caused it.
“I don’t know, Eds. I think you might have to show me again.”
Eddie was happy to comply.
He grinned, leaning in for another deep lingering kiss.
Thank you @penny00dreadful beloved friend and beta!
#stwgdailyprompt#steddie fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington/eddie munson#steddie fic#fanfic#stwg
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i am alrREADY SENDING IN MY REQUEST SO I DONT FORGET AND I NEED THIS
Peanut Butter Cup - Nerds
IM SO EXCITED.
Fake dating/Bookworm!Reader/Steve Harrington
Warnings: fake dating, Harrington familial dysfunction, drunk family members
WC: 1.1k
Divider credit to @saradika
Steve had heard it all from his parents:
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?”
“Just go out on a date, Steven.”
“You spend all damn day at that video store; you’re never gonna meet anyone that way.”
He normally shrugs it off, until his parents give him an ultimatum: get a girlfriend before the annual Harrington Family Reunion in two weeks, or don’t bother showing up at all.
“Twenty years old, and you barely passed high school, work a dead-end job, and don’t even have a girlfriend,” his father mutters, disgust marring his features. “You’re a disappointment.”
The insult reverberates around his skull all day: disappointment, disappointment, disappointment. It’s not the first time his father has hurled the term his way, and it likely won’t be the last, but the impact continues to sting.
It’s still gnawing at him when you walk in the door, sliding a VHS copy of The Shining across the counter with a bashful smile.
“Sorry, I know it’s a day late,” you apologize, already digging into your bag for change. “How much is the fee?”
Steve dismisses the notion with a wave. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, already checking the movie back into the system. “You, uh, went to Hawkins High, right?”
“Mhm,” you confirm, zipping up your purse and hitching it back up your shoulder, “class of ‘86.”
“‘85,” he chirps, clearing his throat to temper his enthusiasm. “Anyway, hope the movie was good.”
You nod and smile again; the gentle upturn of your lips has Steve melting. “It was. The book was better, though.”
And that’s when Steve finally places you: back in high school, you volunteered at the school library and, on more than one occasion, had helped him find a book for research projects. You were pretty then, and you’re even prettier now.
“I haven’t read the book,” he admits, embarrassed that he hasn’t read much of anything besides a comic book or two since graduation.
Your jaw drops. “Well, now you have to!” You grab your car keys from your back pocket. “I’ll swing by tomorrow with my copy, if that’s cool?”
“Y-Yeah, ‘s cool,” he stutters, giving his head a soft shake to shift the hair from his hazel eyes. He watches as you walk out of the store, the sway of your hips drawing him in.
He probably would have stared forever if Robin hadn’t cut in. “Hey, Dingus, you’re drooling.”
You stop by Family Video the next day to drop off the book. And then a few days after that, you go there again to grab another movie. Soon enough, you’re a regular customer.
“Can I ask you for a favor?” Steve blurts out from where he’s standing next to you as you peruse the horror section. “Feel free to say no, to tell me to fuck off, and I will. I will just…fuck right off.”
“Shoot.”
“Could you pretend to be my girlfriend at my family reunion next weekend? Nothing weird,” he rushes to add, not wanting to imply any unwanted contact. “Just hand holding, arm around your shoulder…no feels will be copped, I swear.”
You pinch your eyebrows, perplexed. “Is this the trade-off for having my late fee waived?” you tease, thumbing The Exorcist and tugging it from its spot on the shelf. “Because I’ll pay it.”
Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, just tired of hearing my folks complain about me not having my life together. Figured if I showed up with a smart, pretty girl on my arm, they’d shut up for a little while.”
Your face burns at the compliments, both at the words and that King Steve is the one saying them. “What’s the dress code?”
You and Steve arrive in his Beemer, his hand already pressed to the small of your back as you walk into the restaurant. A room filled with Harringtons greet you as you enter the room, and your stomach flips as you wonder if you can pull this off.
“Showtime,” Steve murmurs in your ear, taking you around the room to meet his family. You’re suddenly self-conscious of where your black dress lands on your thighs and the cut of the neckline. Sure, Steve had approved it, but what did he know?
You note that he’s been gazing at you since he’d picked you up earlier, eyes drawn to you like a magnetic force. It’s part of the whole bit, you try and convince yourself, but something nags at you that Steve isn’t that good of an actor.
The conversations go as easily as they can; you spend the evening peppering in “facts” about your relationship that you and Steve had rehearsed over and over. Some of the details were truthful, like meeting at Family Video and bonding over horror movies. Other parts were much more embellished: relationship duration, your first date, the way Steve bragged that you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on.
It’s smooth sailing until Steve’s inebriated father stands up, clumsily clinking his knife to his wine glass. “I’d like to make a toast,” he slurs, swaying as he speaks, “to my son, Steve, and his girl! Never thought I’d see the day he’d land someone like her.”
Your eyes remain glued to the floor, waiting for the moment to be over, but if the impromptu speech wasn’t awkward enough, one of Steve’s equally drunk uncles calls out, “Give her a kiss, Stevie!”
Steve shakes his head with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Nah, we’re not really into the public–”
“Aw, c’mon!” His boisterous voice echoes throughout the restaurant. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” he chants, and soon enough, most of the family joins in.
“Shall we shut them up?” Steve mumbles, turning to you. “Y’don’t have to…”
“N-No, we can.” It’s not the most conventional first kiss, but then again, nothing about this arrangement is normal. “We can just…”
Steve’s hand is on your cheek, nose nudging against yours as your lips press together. This isn’t a simple peck; no, it’s far more involved, more intimate, than you had anticipated.
You melt into him a bit more, resting your own hand on his bicep until the kiss comes to an end. The men hoot and holler; the women exchange awws.
“Now that,” Steve’s dad guffaws, clapping a hand on his son’s back, “is the kiss of true love!”
You manage a small smile, wondering exactly what just happened. The kiss was the best of your life, and it was supposedly just for show.
Steve’s breath tickles your earlobe as he whispers, “he may be drunk, but he’s not wrong.” His cheeks are pink at the admission.
It’s certainly a conversation you’ll need to have later, but you can’t say you disagree. For now, your fingers intertwine with his, and you give them a quick squeeze.
Maybe it’s the wine, but you swear you love him back.
--
#trope or treat#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#fanfic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things
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we can follow the sparks, I'll drive
sam/bucky | au | rated t | 2k words
An extremely fluffy alternate epilogue to the Sam/Bucky Formula One AU, midnight driving with the windows down.
( also on AO3 )
Back when he and Steve were still at the racing academy, one of the trainers used to say that most of Bucky’s mid-race overtakes happened because he was such an annoying presence on the track that other drivers would fall back just to get away from him.
He eventually figured out more effective maneuvers than pure persistent irritation, but he’s never been opposed to bringing back a classic, which explains how he’s chosen to spend his morning.
“Barnes,” growls Sam, for the third or fourth time, and Bucky feels it rumble through his chest where it’s pressed against Sam’s side.
“Sorry, did you need something?” he asks, as mildly as possible. (It’s a little muffled: when he opted to flop down on Sam and go fully boneless, he ended up with a face full of Sam’s pecs, and turning his head hasn’t fully solved that problem.)
“What I needed,” says Sam, “is to have left this hotel room twenty minutes ago, but I was stopped by an overgrown toddler.”
Bucky would feel bad, except that in spite of his complaints, Sam has made absolutely no effort to extricate himself from Bucky’s hold. He’s been idly playing with Bucky’s hair for at least the last ten minutes, and it feels so good that Bucky’s regretting all the years that he kept his hair short and missed out on the way Sam’s fingers feel running through it.
“You’re the one who got back in bed,” he says. “It’s almost like you didn’t even want to go to that brunch where you can’t eat anything and you just have to smile awkwardly in selfies with celebrities until you feel like your face is gonna get stuck that way.”
“I literally just sat down to put my watch on.”
“Who puts on their watch before they put on a shirt, Wilson?”
“People whose partners have no concept of getting places on time, that’s who.”
Bucky snorts. “You were already late before you ended up here.”
“And whose fault was that?” asks Sam drily.
“I guess we’ll never know,” says Bucky, whose first instinct when Sam’s alarm went off at six this morning was to say, ‘Absolutely fucking not,’ and shut the phone inside a drawer.
He can feel the slightest tremor of Sam’s shoulder as he tries not to laugh, but Bucky doesn’t bother to bite back his own giddy smile when Sam turns and presses a kiss to his hairline. “I guess we won’t.”
“Anyway,” says Bucky, “there’s no point in going down there now. All those Hollywood people? You know that pressed juice line is going to be a nightmare, and how are you going to start your day without a pineapple-tumeric-ginger juice?”
“And is being trapped here in this bed somehow an effective alternative to that?”
“It is if your favorite person ordered your juice from room service.”
“Man, I can’t believe Steve went and ordered me room service, and from a hotel he’s not even staying at,” says Sam. “What a great guy.”
Bucky pushes away from Sam so he can level a glare at him. “You’re not as funny as you think you- hey!”
There’s maybe a reason why Sam is famous for his maneuvering around tight corners. The second that Bucky pulls away even a little bit, he wriggles out from underneath him, disentangling their legs and smoothly rolling off the bed in a single motion.
“That was a dirty play,” Bucky says, slumping against the pillows and frowning.
Sam just grins at him, triumphant. “Three months out of the game and you’re already losing your edge, huh, Barnes?”
Bucky doesn’t have a response, mostly because Sam always looks stupid attractive when he’s like this, all cocky and teasing, and it doesn’t help that those tailored linen pants fit him like a dream. He’s saved from being called out for gawping when there’s a knock at the door and Sam moves to answer it.
He can hear Sam chatting with whoever stopped by, so he grabs his phone off the charger and checks his notifications, heart-ing the photos that Steve just sent of Ellie and the new baby and sending off a text to Olivia to tell her how much he approves of Sam’s outfit today. Then he swipes over to the group chat where he’s got more than fifty notifications and scrolls all the way back to where he last left off, reading through the messages like he’s skimming the headlines.
He’s still catching up when Sam comes in wheeling the room service cart—a good call, given that Bucky is neither dressed nor technically supposed to be in here—and subsequently steals a strawberry off of Bucky’s waffles.
“I’m going to let that slide because I know strawberries are the closest you’re getting to dessert until this race is over,” says Bucky, only glancing up before turning back to his texts. “No Rihanna at the brunch, by the way. Just a bunch of TikTok stars and actors from CW shows. Are you sure you want to go to this?”
Sam raises an eyebrow as he pours a cup of coffee. “What are you, running surveillance on the dining room?”
Bucky holds up his phone. “Hope said she didn’t recognize anyone there, and then Tandy was keeping an eye out for Rihanna but apparently she’s not making an appearance because it would be too busy with the press, so-”
“Hang on,” says Sam. “You’re in a group chat with Hope and Tandy? Why?”
“Not just Hope and Tandy,” says Bucky. “Colleen, too, obviously, and Gert, and Olivia Walker, and–”
“Are you talking about the WAGs? You’re part of that chat?”
He nods. “Colleen said the invite was my retirement present.”
“But…why?”
“It’s for the partners of active Formula One drivers,” says Bucky, shrugging. “And last I checked, I was the partner of an active Formula One driver, unless this is your way of breaking up with me for making you late to brunch.”
“Yeah, I’m real upset that I missed my chance to let all my food go cold while I pose for selfies with a bunch of actors I’ve never heard of,” says Sam, his voice flat. He steals another strawberry and furrows his eyebrows after he takes his first bite. “Wait, is this group chat where you get all that insider gossip that you’ve been sharing? Like Quill retiring? Or the new merch releases?”
“Obviously,” Bucky says, moving to the end of the bed and pulling the plate of waffles closer to himself. “You think they’d just give that kind of information to a retired driver?”
Sam snorts. “I should have known. Back when I was dating Leila, I swear she knew about every one of the FIA’s moves weeks before it was going to happen. Sometimes I think she was more in the know than Rhodey was.”
“Dot was the same way when we were together,” says Bucky. The waffle is proving a little stubborn to cut one-handed and he wishes he’d just ordered pancakes instead. “I should have listened to her more, honestly. I didn’t realize how good the intel was.”
“What about the year that you and Steve started racing together again? At Scuda? I met some of those models you dated; they knew everyone worth knowing at the FIA. Tell me they didn’t have insider knowledge.”
Bucky looks up from his breakfast with a smirk. “We weren’t exactly talking race strategy all night.”
“Too bad for them.” Sam grins back at him, wolfish now. “They never saw you get all worked up about speed control on hairpin turns.”
Sam’s been making Bucky blush long enough that he knows there’s only more teasing around the corner, but this time around, he’s armed with the perfect distraction. He holds his carefully-assembled forkful of waffle and strawberry and whipped ricotta in front of Sam’s mouth, giving the fork a little wiggle like he’s trying to entice a three year old and not a whole adult.
There’s a beat where Bucky assumes that Sam is weighing his options, and then he opens his mouth and takes the bite.
While Sam is busy chewing, Bucky seizes the opportunity for a counter-argument: “You’re the only person in the world who thinks that’s attractive, you know.”
His only answer is an unimpressed look, made a lot less intimidating by the slight chipmunk face that Sam has going on at the moment. Bucky just laughs.
“One,” says Sam, after some furious chewing, “there are thousands of thirsty instagram comments about you that prove otherwise.”
Bucky opens his mouth to protest, but finds that he doesn’t really have anything to say to contradict that.
Sam looks satisfied as he moves around to the closet and opens the door, disappearing from Bucky’s line of sight. “And two,” he calls out, “none of those matter anyway, because I saw you first.”
He feels his face go hot again, and suddenly all Bucky can think of is the first time that he saw Sam: not in race footage or in a crowded room, but out by the track at one of Bucky’s first races out of the academy. He’d had his helmet under one arm, head thrown back with laughter at something Steve said, and Bucky had taken one look at how fucking pretty he was and felt every last brain cell fizzle out.
Maybe that should’ve been a sign, but Bucky had resolutely ignored it, made his way over to the cute boy who was hanging out with his best friend, and immediately said something snotty about getting cozy with the competition. It had ended up completely backfiring, he remembers. Steve had looked absolutely appalled and Sam had just given Bucky an appraising once-over, then turned that maddening grin on him and said, “I mean, if you want to call yourself competition.”
He’d walked away before Bucky could think of any sort of comeback, and an infuriated Bucky had spent the entire subsequent race chasing him.
It only took twenty years to catch up, he thinks, and has to hide his dopey grin behind his coffee mug when he hears the closet door click shut.
When Sam comes back around the corner, he’s still bare-chested, but he’s swapped the tailored linen trousers for what Bucky recognizes as his favorite of Sam’s many pairs of sweatpants.
Bucky only processes what that means when Sam drops onto the bed beside him and plucks the coffee out of his hands. “You’re not going?”
Sam shrugs, taking a sip of Bucky’s coffee when he’s got his own cup literally six inches away. “Couldn’t let that pressed juice go to waste, could I? Not when my favorite person ordered it for me.”
Just to have something to do that isn’t grinning at his boyfriend like a fool, Bucky turns and reaches for his Nets hoodie, dragging it over to them from where it was balled up by their pillows.
He’s expecting Sam to protest that he’s fine—he’s not; Bucky can already see the goosebumps on his arms—or crack some kind of joke about Bucky not wanting to warm Sam up himself.
What he’s not expecting is to turn back and find Sam’s face caught between interest and alarm, staring fixedly at Bucky’s thighs.
“What?” asks Bucky, following the line of Sam’s gaze to his new boxers, down to where the number 25 is printed just above the hem. “What’s wrong?”
Sam is quiet for a long moment. Then, with an impressive amount of gravitas for such an absurd question, he asks, “Am I hallucinating, or do your boxers have my name printed across the ass?”
Bucky’s eyes go wide with understanding. “Oh, right. About that…”
“About what?”
“So you know the new merch release that the other WAGs told me about so I could impress you with all my insider knowledge?”
“Oh my God,” says Sam.
“Yeah.”
“They’re selling boxers with my name on the ass.”
“They’re pretty comfortable, for what it’s worth,” laughs Bucky, letting Sam pull him in close and peer over his shoulder to get a better look at the lettering.
“I’m gonna kill Parker.”
“Could you at least wait until next month? Because he promised to get me some of the pairs from the other teams’ merch stores, and I feel like the Leone colors would look pretty good on—”
“Absolutely fucking not,” Sam all but growls, just like Bucky did earlier, and tackles him to the bed to prove exactly why Bucky won’t be wearing any colors that aren’t Sam’s.
(The pressed juice, regrettably, does go to waste.)
#sambucky#sambucky f1 au#this is just So Silly there's zero plot but I do think they're cute all the same#a total of three people expressed the vaguest interest and I was like WELP IT'S WHAT THE PEOPLE WANT#this is a little rough but to be fair that's why it's not the official epilogue#'hey zainab did you spend time polishing this instead of working on your valentine's day fic' no comment#my fic
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I'm a sucker for Steve proposes fics
But what if its been a year Steve and eddie have been dating. They have been really careful because they're scared understandably and the kids don't know. The only people who know are Robin and Wayne.
Then one day eddie walks into lunch and Robin screeches and starts saying things that no one else can understand and eddie is standing there blushing.
None of the party or hellfire can figure out what the fuck just happened.
What had happened was Robin had noticed a ring with black and red stones and not Eddie's normal style on his ring finger because even if they can't get married they can be engaged.
Another year passes the kids have finally stopped bothering Steve about dating somone and finally started asking Eddie about him dating somone. The second time it happens he's prepared he and Steve have talked and he's decided to be brace and test the waters. So when Dustin asks him why he never goes out with any girls he goes " well that would be kinda shitty of me to cheat on my fiance" and boy does that stop them all.
Then there's a large amount of screeching because Eddie what you don't even have a- oh wait I guess you do have a ring you just have so many it wasn't as obvious
And then he makes a comment about at least one person noticing and really it's been months guys
During this all I kinda see things processing
Dustin focuses on the engagement and him not saying anything.
Mike picks up on the fact that Eddie is gay and has a moment about that.
Will (who deserves to get to know and become fast freinds with Eddie) also has a moment but more about not being alone.
Lucas is not having a moment he is processing you can practically see the loading symbol above his head.
Erica is giving the most analyzing look known to man and it isn't till she actually looks at the ring more that she can scrape anything together about Eddie's guy
Max is also processing but she's also scheming
Eddie breaks the tension with something about wishing he could marry him now so that he could have seen the looks on their face realizing they got married
El ends up asking why they can't get married
At this point it's been at least a year and a half they mostly see the older kids for visits because they all got out of Hawkins as a group. They couldn't leave each other not long distance at least.
It drives the kids insane. Everytime they see eddie he tells them something about his fiance and none of the people guessing can figure it out slowly overtime they figure it out one by one
I'm gonna go ahead and say will is the first too and then Erica figures it out. People always have max be the most observant but I feel like Lucas could figure out via basket ball game with Steve when just he and eddie visit because Robin has a test coming up and he sees a hicky on Steve when the only one with him was Eddie (Lucas loses that game because he got distracted by it) then max because there's no way she doesn't notice before Mike and Dustin and honestly I think El just picked it up but never said anything because she wouldn't think there was anything to be said so no one knows how long she's know.
The other thing that would be funny (but also sad) is if Steve proposed Robin reacted and no one put it together until the year they can actually get married when the go to the court house with Robin get married take some photos and then show up at the next upside-down survivors reunion Steve wearing a new ring getting mobbed and when asked who he got married to he says " my fiance of 17 years who else" and Eddie calls back " love you too sweetheart" from across the room and then Robin offers photos
(I do think that if they saw one of the kids struggling they would come out to them so maybe will knows and will was also at the courthouse)
I just think the dynamic is interesting and has potential for both hurt, fluff and humor and that is my jam
-✏️
Anon listen you got to start posting these so I can reblog them and go bonkers in the tags because what they FUCK!!!! You are WASTING them in my inbox, I’m just a silly little guy!!!! Don’t get me wrong I am DELIGHTED that I’m get exclusive first access to these, I don’t want you to stop sending these (pleaSe don’t) but you deserve recognition and praise!!! You just absolutely blow it out the water every time! Thank you!!! As always!!! I have nothing to add because why ruin something with my inane mutterings ya feel?
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see through
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!
wc: 4.1k words
[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
-
Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.
Notice how you said night?
Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.
And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?
(Great choice on your part, by the way.)
Well, because of your neighbor.
You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.
But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.
But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.
Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.
You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.
But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.
-
The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.
You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.
But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.
-
"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.
"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.
It was him.
"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,
"Keep the change."
"Thanks, and your name?"
He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'
"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.
"James."
That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.
As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.
You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.
"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.
"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."
"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.
"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.
"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"
"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.
"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.
You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.
"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.
He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.
For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.
Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.
"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.
"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.
"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.
"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.
"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.
He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.
"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.
You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.
"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.
As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.
(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The girl who works at this café is annoying.
But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.
He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.
But it was a nice gesture.
Why can't you just take a nice gesture?
Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.
He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.
You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.
Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.
Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.
He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.
But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.
He hates how lonely it gets, though.
Bucky wishes that he had someone.
Someone who could understand.
And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.
Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.
But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.
But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'
Or that's what his therapist says.
"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.
He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.
Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.
He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.
Who he was.
"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.
"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."
"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.
You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.
Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.
Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.
He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.
Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?
But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.
All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.
But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.
He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.
Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.
He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.
Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.
Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.
But there was no one.
And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.
Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.
But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.
For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.
He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.
For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.
There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.
Well, in your own apartment, of course.
And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.
As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.
He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.
(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.
After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.
He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.
But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.
Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.
You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.
You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.
As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.
-
The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.
You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.
You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.
You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.
-
You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.
You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.
"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.
"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.
You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.
He seems to have this issue quite often.
Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.
Well, nothing you did on purpose.
Nothing you were aware of at the time.
Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.
"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.
"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.
"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.
"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.
"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.
"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.
The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.
-
As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.
He was attractive, you'll admit.
Okay, he was more than attractive.
"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.
"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.
"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.
"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.
"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.
"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.
"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.
"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.
"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.
"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.
"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.
"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.
"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.
"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."
"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.
You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.
"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.
"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.
"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.
"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.
"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."
Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.
"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."
You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.
He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.
You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.
"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.
-
bonus scene:
six months later
You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.
"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.
"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.
"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.
"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."
Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.
"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.
"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.
"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."
You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.
"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.
"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.
A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.
"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.
You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.
"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.
"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.
"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.
"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.
"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."
-
fin. i hope you enjoyed!
#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes smut#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes reader insert#neighbor!bucky#bucky barnes au
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My Father's daughter pt1
Summary: After the disastrous gala, you get an unexpected visit from your “mother”and her family.
A/n: Hello so I feel like the mom character should have a name, so from here on out, your mother's name is Christine. Also i hope y’all like this one cause i feel like it’s going kinda slow.
Growing up was rough.
Because your mother decided that you and Tony weren’t worth the effort, you had to mature pretty quickly. You’re father had fallen into this deep depression, where he can barely take care of himself. You had to make sure that your father woke up on time for meetings, made sure he ate, drank water, and inevitably had to make sure that he didn’t choke on his own vomit when he got shitfaced.
Needless to say, you were very mature for nine years old.
But then, a light in the form of Virginia Potts came into your lives. She saw the way you had taken on the role of Tonys caregiver, and was heartbroken. At first she thought it was just pure negligence from Tonys end, but as she spent more time with the both of you, she realized that Tony loved you more than anything in this world. So she stuck around.
At first you were weary of her. Not really trusting towards older woman, or motherly figures as you were scorned once. But she never gave up. Not on you or your father. No, she stayed even when you would run away on under her watch. She stayed even when you would try and steal your fathers cars for a quick joy ride through Manhattan. And she stayed when you broke down after your mother had people come pick up all her belongings from the Tower, not bothering to come herself and say goodbye.
She didn’t leave. She held you as you screamed and sobbed as the men packed away everything she owned. She held you even when you squirmed and scratched at her arms to get away. And she held you as you gave up and silently cried then eventually fell asleep, tightly clutching her midsection.
That's when you started to come around. You stopped running away whenever your father would leave you with her, wouldn’t talk back when she asked you to pick up a mess, and you even helped her out when some creep intern decided to put the moves on her during a company meeting.
It wasn’t until your father went missing when you truly saw her as someone you could trust. It was the worst three months of your life. Another parent gone suddenly from your life. You were relocated to mansion in Malibu, a big empty place where the halls echoed as you walked through them. ANd you had thought that Pepper was going to stay back in New York, she wasn’t your assistant after all. You were shocked to see her at the airport, suitcase in tow with a determined look.
Seeing the look of surprise on your face she stated,
“ I’m not going to let you do this alone.” ,then grabbed your hand to lead you through terminal.
You were grateful that she only acknowledged your tears when you were in the privacy of the private jet. She rubbed your back as you let the tears run down your face. The whole three months that you were in her care, your perspective changed.
She asked about your day, made sure you ate, tucked you in and held you whenever you had nightmares. With in that three month period, Pepper showed you what it was like to have a mother again. And she never let you down.
Then your dad came home, and your family was complete. You were ecstatic when they started dating and even more so when your father announced that they were going to get engaged.
And even though it took years, you finally trusted Pepper enough to see her as your mother. You were happy.
Which is why you were extra pissed when you came home from your mother-daughter day and saw your biological mother with Bruce Wayne in the common room. They were sitting on the couch and were getting glared at by the Avengers that were home from missions,(Natasha, Steve, and Sam).
“Dad, what’s going on?” You ask, looking past the hopeful and curious gazes from the couch.
“Kid, I think you better sit down.” Tony said through slightly clenched teeth. His face was grim, as he looked past you and made eye contact with Pepper. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, and she nodded. She squeezed your shoulders and took your bags, then with a quick glare she had the rest of the room cleared except for the four of you.
You took a seat across from your mother, Christine and Bruce. She sent a smile your way and was met with a blank look, “ Dad, what’s going on?”
He sighs and makes his way over to were you were seated, “I don’t know, Christine, maybe you should explain.”
His tone indicated that he knew why she was here, but wanted her to sound stupid. Pepper came over and sat on the t other side of you.
Christine glanced at the Pepper and cleared her throat, “Perhaps should be kept between family?”
You scoffed, “ Considering that Pep has been around longer than you ever have been, you have no right to decide who’s family to me and whos not.”
You see Pepper sit up straighter with pride and mother slump.
You sigh, “ What are you doing here?”
She looks at Bruce, who you honestly forgot was still there, “ Y/n...I want you to come home with us.”
A silence filled the room. You felt Pepper tense up at the words and saw your dads and clench into a fist.
You however just stared in utter disbelief.
“What.”
“I know it's far fetched.” Your mother starts, ignoring your scoff, “ But i really do think it would benefit you to come to Gotham with us, and get to know your siblings!”
You were seething.
“My siblings? You mean the family that you left us for.”
“Y/n that’s not-”
“No, You think that you can just waltz into my home, after nine years of absolutely no contact, no birthday cards, not even a text to let me know that you were alive, and expect me to what? Just welcome you into open arms? Leave MY family and go live with you?? Really?” You say with a scoff.
“Y/n there is a ot of factors you are not considering” Bruce chimes in for the first time.
You turn your glare onto him, “ And what you’re just okay with the fact that your wife has a whole other child who she just fucking abandoned?
“Language.” Your father mutters causing you to roll your eyes.
“Well, I can’t say this didn’t come as a shock.” Bruce states, “ But, I also know that I love my wife, and that I would welcome you to our home.”
Your throat was hurting with the amount if times you’ve scoffed, “ And I appreciate that, really, but I would never leave my family. Especially not for her.”
Christine's eyes start to tear up, “ Y/n please, a girl needs her mother.”
Those words triggered the anger inside you. Your blood boiled and you can tell that she knew she messed up.
“Oh? Is that right? What about when I was six and I waited for you to come and take me to that mother's day dance, only you never showed up and I went with my nanny. Or when I was eight and you promised that you would take me to get my ears pierced but then you got a phone call and left so dad took me?”
You saw the tears run down her face as Bruce looked like he was thinking about something.
“Oh and what about when I was nine. I was nine and you promised to take me to the park. You remember that? Cause I do.”
Tony tenses next to you, knowing what you were about to say.
“Y/n I can never apologize enough but-” You cut her off
“I was NINE and your promised to take me to the park” You continue, “ But you left. And this time you didn’t come back.” You finish and lean forward, “ Tell me, why the HELL would you think that I would want to come live with you and your fucking family?”
The room was once again engulfed in a tense silence. The only sounds were the sniffling of your mother.
“You’re my baby girl...my petal. I love you and always have...” She starts, “ My biggest regret is leaving you that day and you have to know that Y/n.”
You feel tears start to rise, a knot in your throat.
Peppers hand squeezes yours and you calm down and say
“Then you’re gonna have to learn to live with it.”
Then you stand up and walk right out of the room. Leaving the adults and marching straight to the training rooms to let out some steam.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back in the common room, a tense silence weighed on the adults. It seemed like no one knew exactly what to say, or they didn’t want to speak up.
Only when Tony cleared his throat did Christine speak up again.
“I didn’t come to cause any trouble.” she said quietly.
“What did you think would happen?”Tony says crossing his arms, “Surely you didn’t expect her to leave with you?”
“No Tony I didn’t. I just thought she would’ve considered it. I am still her mother.”
Pepper snorted, causing the attention to turn to her.
Christine's eyes narrowed, “ And who exactly are you to my daughter?”
Tony tensed, knowing not to mess with Pepper especially when it came to you. He sat back and waited for mamma bear to come out.
Pepper sent a glare her way, “ Me? I’m just the woman who has been raising her for the past nine years.”
Before Christine can get another word on Pepper continued on,
“ I don’t know who you think you are, but you have put Y/n and Tony through a lot of turmoil throughout the years. And now you think you can come in here and demand forgiveness from them?? That’s not happening.”
Bruce started to speak up, “I understand the pain you're family must have gone through, and I am sorry about my...unknowing participation, but Christine is willing to work on her relationship with her daughter.”
Now Tony started speaking, “why? Why now? Y/n is practically an adult, she doesn’t need you anymore. Not like she did before.”
“I’m her mother.” Christine said stubbornly, “ She’ll always need her mother.”
“And she has one. Just not you.” Pepper said standing from her spot, “ I think it’s time for you two to leave. I have to go comfort MY daughter.”
And with that Pepper made her way to the door where you disappeared, knowing exactly where you are. But before she left, she turned and said
“It was lovely to meet you Mrs. Wayne”
and left, leaving Tony to show them to the elevator.
#tony stark x daughter!reader#tony stark x teen!reader#tony stark x reader#tony is a good dad#pepperpotts#pepper is a momma#marvel x reader#marvel#poc reader#avengers x teen!reader#reader insert#crossover#bruce wayne x reader#batfam x batsis#batfam x reader#dc comics x reader#marvel and dc
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Until You Fall Asleep
After moving in with the crew to help cure your quarantine boredom, you find a new way to deal with your insomnia.
Request: “Could you please do a Colson fanfic where you're a friend of the gang and you move into their house for quarantine so you're not alone. Colson finds out you have terrible insomnia and starts staying up to keep you company and you gradually start sleeping in his bed because it's the only place you seem to actually sleep. You start to get really close through these late night chats, watching films, sharing stuff and opening up to each other... Friendship starts to develop into something else. I need some fluff to see me through these sleepless nights! 🙏😘 Thanks!”
Colson X Reader
Warnings: cursing
Word Count: 3487
Living with your best friends during a nationwide quarantine seemed like a good idea when you agreed to it, but after the 5th night of wandering the huge house late at night because you couldn’t sleep, you were starting to think you should’ve stayed where you were. At least at your own place, you didn’t have to worry about sneaking around so as not to wake anyone up.
Luckily, no one seemed to notice that you woke up earlier than everyone else in the house or went to sleep later. Or if they did, no one said anything.
Day five
Tonight hadn’t been going so well. You had tried showering, you hadn’t eaten for at least a few hours before trying to sleep, you turned your lavender diffuser on, you’d even tried yoga. Nothing helped, and you were left staring at your ceiling.
Frustrated and uncomfortable, you rolled out of your bed, sock clad feet pattering across your room and slowly pulling your door open. You made your way through the house and out to the pool, letting the cool night air wash over you. A deep breath fell from your lips as you began to pace around the deck, hoping to tire yourself out enough to sleep.
After a few minutes, you heard the sliding glass door open, looking up and finding Colson stepping out with a blunt in his hand. He smiled tiredly at you, “you’re up early.”
You raised an eyebrow, “what time is it?” You figured it was 4, maybe 5 am.
“Almost 7,” he looked concerned, “you okay?”
You were trying to figure out how you managed to stay up until 7 am without a wink of sleep, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep. It’s cool though. Why are you up?”
Colson lit the blunt as he spoke, “couldn’t sleep either.”
Day eight
You found yourself curled up on the couch, reading a book at 5:30 in the morning after hours of trying to fall asleep. You swore if you stayed in your room a second longer, you’d break something, so you snuck out to the TV room with the most boring book you could find.
“Do you ever sleep?” Colson’s voice surprised you, making you jump lightly in your seat. The man chuckled at your reaction, taking a seat next to you.
You pouted at his glee, “I could ask you the same thing.”
He shrugged, “sleep is for the weak.”
A sarcastic chuckle fell from your lips, “oh yeah, I feel so strong and cool right now.”
The man laughed with you, but soon turned serious, “serious though, are you good? Both nights this week I haven’t slept you’ve been awake, and I know you don’t take naps.”
You sighed, “it’s just insomnia, I’ve been dealing with it on and off for a couple years now. It’s not a big deal.”
He cocked his head in curiosity and worry, “how much sleep have you been getting?”
You ducked your head in embarrassment, “I slept for an hour at like 3, hopefully I’ll fall asleep again at some point tonight.”
Colson frowned, “can I help at all?”
A small smile fell upon your face, “sometimes talking helps, but honestly not much else. It’s not that big of a problem, though. I’ve been dealing with this for a while, I’m used to it.”
He looked shocked, “dude, you sleep for a few hours every night! That’s a problem. I don’t even know how you’re still alive.”
“Like you’ve never gone a couple days in a row without sleeping,” you said sarcastically.
“No! I go to sleep late as fuck, but I sleep eventually most nights. You’re on a whole different level.” His tone was slightly defensive, if not concerned, “do I need to get you some pills or something? I can do that.”
Your eyes went wide, “Jesus, Kells, no. I have enough to deal with, I don’t need another addiction on my hands too.”
He chuckled, “I’m just saying it might help. I’m assuming weed does nothing?”
You sighed sadly, “it did for a while, but I think my body got used to it. I just have to wait it out until I inevitably pass out.”
“Well, guess I’ll just bother you until you fall asleep.” He relaxed further into the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“Colson, you really don’t have to-“
“You won’t let me get you drugs, so I’m gonna stay up with you. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled widely, knowing he would get his way.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”
Day Twelve
“You think that Captain America has the best character arc? Seriously?”
Your nightly chats with Colson had moved into his room after Baze was woken up by Colson’s loud laughter during a conversation about what type of dogs you’d both be. So, you were sat cross legged on his bed, facing each other in deep conversation.
The man tried to defend his stance to you, “okay, I know everyone loves Tony’s whole asshole to hero thing, but Captain America went from this goody two shoes to this badass criminal and he still got the girl in the end.”
You shook your head, “you’re just wrong in every way. I’m not even saying Iron Man had a better story, but literally every other character developed more than Steve. He wasn’t that badass in the end, and the fact that he went back to get the girl just proves he never really changed all that much. He was static.”
“So, you’re telling me, if we watched every single movie with Captain America in it, you wouldn’t be entertained?” He crossed his arms and leaned backwards, eyeing you challengingly.
You scoffed, “the movies are fine, I just think that Marvel has produced better superheroes with better plotlines.”
“New plan, we’re going to watch every marvel movie in order and then you can tell me that I’m right.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV across from his bed.
Rolling your eyes, you moved back to lean against the headrest, legs spread out in front of you, “you’re not right, but I’ll watch them just to see the look on your face when you realize you’re wrong.”
Colson flopped down on the bed next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you so that you were leaning into his side. A yawn escaped his mouth, “if you get tired, let me know.”
You giggled, “I’m always tired, I just can’t sleep. I won’t get offended if you fall asleep though.”
He pulled a face, “I’m not falling asleep.”
About an hour into the movie the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated differently. You chuckled to yourself once you realized he had fallen asleep, turning further into his chest, and allowing yourself to get more comfortable.
Somewhere between 4 and 5 am, you found your eyes finally closing of their own accord, unconsciousness washing over you.
Day 17
Since starting your marvel movie binges with Colson, you’d found yourself getting more sleep. You couldn’t tell if it was from the movies or from Colson, but either way something seemed to be working.
Tonight, however, even your new routine wouldn’t lull you to sleep. You tried every breathing exercise in the book, but nothing seemed to work. Colson had fallen asleep a while ago, his arm wrapped around you as per usual, so you couldn’t talk yourself to sleep.
So, you decided to take a stroll around the house, hoping the small form of physical activity would help. But in order to get out of bed, you would have to find a way out of Colson’s embrace without waking him up.
You slowly and gently grabbed his hand and removed it from your side, laying it on the bed next to you. Then, you sat up slowly, only to be pulled back into his chest, “where’re you going?”
His voice was deep and gravelly, sleepiness very evident. You responded with a whispered, “I can’t sleep, was gonna go walk around.”
He pulled you in closer to him, nuzzling his face into the crown of your head, “but you’re so warm.”
You chuckled, cuddling into the man, “fine, I’ll stay.” You tried to close your eyes and find sleep, but again, none came. Sighing, you accepted that you would be stuck in your current position, realizing there were worse things than being wrapped up in a beautiful boy’s arms.
Day 25
“I know aliens probably exist, but do you think they’d ever take one of us to study?”
Colson chuckled at your question, “like a human in general or, like, you and me?”
“Like you or me. Do you think we’re important enough to be studied?”
He squeezed your waist, “I think you are in desperate need of sleep.”
Laughing, you responded, “I’m serious! And I have been sleeping, thank you very much.”
“Okay, fine. I think if aliens ever came to Earth, they’d probably be more interested in, like, genius billionaires or really dumb people, like people from Florida.”
You slapped his arm, “don’t be mean to Florida.”
You could feel the vibrations from his laughter, making you giggle. “Fine, but my point is they wouldn’t be interested in us unless they’re really into music.”
“Darn,” you huffed.
He raised an eyebrow at you, “you want aliens to take you and study you?”
Balancing yourself on his chest, you lifted yourself up to look down at him, “yes! That would be so fucking cool.”
He shook his head with a laugh, “you’re crazy.”
“Think about it, who else would be able to say they got studied by aliens. And then you’d know that you were important to someone, even if it is just alien scientists.”
Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled you back down into him, your hands still resting on his chest, “I don’t need aliens to know I’m important.”
“Well not all of us can be ubertalented rock stars with millions of fans,” you joked, a teasing smile on your face.
You glanced up to find his eyes trained on you, holding a softer look in them than you had expected, “I didn’t mean that.”
It took a few moments for his words to get processed by your brain, but you immediately dismissed the thought that he could be talking about you specifically. More than likely he was referencing his family in general, which you could be included in.
Day 31
To celebrate a full month in quarantine, the guys had decided to throw an in-house only party, which just meant that everyone had an excuse to drink together more than normal. You were staying mostly sober, knowing that otherwise the boys would most likely break something, most likely themselves.
You watched from your place on the kitchen counter as Rook, Baze, Slim, Dre, Irv, Dub, and Colson played a round of King’s cup.
“Y/N, you have to drink,” Rook called from across the room, “it’s a six.”
“If there’s no women playing then you just skip that card, Rookie.” You called but took a sip from your cup anyways.
Colson whined, “this is boring.” You chuckled as he moved away from the table to come stand by you, the rest of the guys continuing without him. He leaned against the counter next to your dangling leg, letting you run your fingers through his blond hair, “parties are boring now, Y/N.”
You could tell that he was gone, the alcohol having almost full control of him. “When we get out of quarantine, we’ll throw the biggest party ever, Kells,” you said, letting your hand fall to rest on his shoulder. The man grasped your hand in his and moved it back up to the top of his head, silently begging for you to continue. He turned into a cat, practically purring as he leaned into you, “hey, Kells, you tired?”
He shook his head, “no, ‘m gonna stay up with you, remember?”
You laughed softly, “it’s okay, Kells. You should get some sleep; I’ll be okay for a night.”
His arms wrapped around your middle, head burying into your stomach, “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”
“You gotta let me off this counter for that.” This was a side of Colson you rarely saw; the drunk, very cuddly version of Colson. Occasionally he’d cling on to you when he got really tired, but that was in the privacy of his room. Here he was hanging onto you in front of all his friends, though granted they were too drunk to notice anything unusual.
You hopped off the counter, taking on some of Colson’s body weight in order to get him up the stairs and to his room. Truthfully, you planned to leave him in his bed once you got him there, but he had other plans. As soon as you moved to walk away from the bed, he grabbed your arm sleepily, “why are you leaving?”
Running a hand along his jaw softly, you softly said, “I’m gonna go to my room.”
He whined, “you never sleep in your room, stay.”
You bit your lip, unsure how to respond to that, “Kells, you’re drunk, you need some sleep.”
“I can’t sleep without you.” His eyes were glazed over, making his pleading look even more appealing than normal.
Sighing, you muttered, “yes, you can. I’ll be right down the hall,” but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, hand still firmly around your wrist.
“No.”
You rolled your eyes, climbing into the bed next to him, “I’m only doing this because you need to go to sleep.” He hummed in response to that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into him, leaving no room for you to escape even if you tried.
Day 37
Nights with Colson had slowly turned into every moment with Colson. You woke up together, ate breakfast together, spent time together. You were rarely separated for long, not that either of you minded.
At some point, the line between friends and whatever lied next had gotten blurred, but not fully crossed. You and Colson were touchy and cuddly during the day as well as at night, and everyone in the house was starting to notice it.
Part of you just wanted to kiss him and see what happened, but you knew messing with a situation like this could go very wrong very fast. So, you just left it up to him to figure out where this thing would go, knowing he probably wouldn’t make the first move either.
But as you laid in his arms, listening to his midnight ramblings, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you took matters into your own hands. You watched his lips move as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to lean up and press your own against them. Of course, you would never actually do it, but it was nice to dream.
There was a lull in the conversation which was spent with your eyes dancing across each other’s face, trying to figure out what to say next. Suddenly, he blurted out, “can I get your advice on something?”
You nodded in response, a soft smile on your face. He continued, “this sounds so stupid, but there’s this girl I’ve been talking to recently and I can’t figure out if she ‘s into me or we’re just really good friends.”
You sat up slightly, perking an eyebrow up, “well what signs has she given you that she’s into you?” Your heart burned, hoping he was talking about you. It was a feeling that had been happening a lot recently whenever you were around him, which was almost all the time.
He sighed, “I mean, we talk like, all the time about everything. And I think she flirts with me, but I’m not completely sure if she’s flirting or she’s just being friendly.”
“Well, what signs say that she’s not into you?” You ask, biting your lip to hide the grin forming on your face.
Colson hesitated, “I mean, none, really. I’m just scared of messing up our friendship, you know?”
You nodded, “well, you’ll never know if you never ask her. I’m sure it’ll work out.”
He was quiet for a long time, clearly turning the advice over in his head, “I would but, with quarantine and everything, I just don’t think it’s the right time. We wouldn’t be able to actually, you know.”
Your heart fell, realizing that there was no possible way he was talking about you. It felt like every bone in your body turned to Jell-o at the realization, a lump forming in your throat. “Right, well, maybe you could invite her over to the house. Or do a cute facetime date or something.”
He nodded but stayed quiet. You fully sat up, swinging your legs off the bed. “Where are you going?” he asked softly.
Something inside of you was slowly crumbling, and you needed to get yourself out of his presence as soon as possible, “I just need to take a walk, I don’t think I’m tired enough to get any form of sleep.”
Colson let out a small “oh,” as you stood up and swiftly left the room, tears forming in your eyes.
You felt silly for letting yourself fall so easily and for thinking that he might have felt the same way. But you could’ve sworn there was something forming between you two.
And how had you never heard of this new girl? How long had that been going on?
So many thoughts swirled around in your head as you made your way downstairs and out to the empty pool deck, pacing the familiar space. You tried to convince yourself that your feelings weren’t as strong as they actually were so that this could somehow be easier, but you knew it wouldn’t work.
The sound of the door sliding open caught your attention, your eyes meeting those all too familiar blue ones. “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the house. You flashed him a fake smile with a nod. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I just-”
“No, no,” you cut him off, “I’m just restless right now, needed to get some energy out.”
He nodded, watching you cautiously, “I’m actually super tired, so I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you in a few?”
You nodded, knowing full well you had no intention of getting back into his bed, “yeah, goodnight.” You turned your head to the ground, studying the cement below your feet.
The door opened and shut, but when you looked back up, Colson was still standing outside, watching you. “I don’t know why I said that. There isn’t a girl in quarantine. Well, I mean, there is, but we wouldn’t not be able to see each other.”
Your head was spinning, trying to make sense of whatever he was saying. He kept talking, “I got nervous and chickened out and then you left and I felt like an idiot.” You looked up to him, confusion evident on your face as he continued on the borderline of rambling, “so I’m just gonna throw this out there and whatever happens, happens.”
You stared at him blankly, not fully processing his words or what was happening.
“Would you wanna go on a date with me? Or, like, whatever kind of date we can pull off here?”
Your eyes went wide in shock, the rollercoaster you had just been on emotionally twisting your mind. You didn’t speak for a few moments, making Colson nervous, but you finally got out a stuttered, “yes.”
He sighed in relief, “god I feel like such a teenager right now.”
You came back to your senses, narrowing your eyes at him, “do you realize the emotional turmoil you just put me through? I feel like I’m crazy!”
He chuckled, moving towards you, and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, I’m an asshole. But it was worth it, right?”
“I was literally rethinking my entire life out here,” you pouted, leaning into his touch.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
You rolled your eyes, “look who’s all Mr. confident now.”
The vibrations of his laugh shook your own body, “well, you said yes. This would be a completely different story if you had said no. Then I would be the one rethinking my entire life.”
You smirked teasingly, “I could always change my mind.”
He shook his head with a chuckle, “shut up.” His lips met yours, one hand reaching up to softly hold your jaw. You melted into the kiss, your arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely.
You pulled away slowly, a smile spread on your face, “this almost makes not being able to sleep worth it.”
Tag list:
@bakerkells @elviablo @iambashfulperson @sunflowerbebe107 @crystalbaby12 @stormrider505 @ticketstomydaydreams @mvrylee @daddyavesxx @pettyvxbes @prettydreamboy
#mgk#mgk imagine#mgk fluff#machine gun kelly#colson baker imagine#colson imagine#machine gun kelly imagine#machine gun kelly x reader#Colson baker#colson x reader#colson baker fluff
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Look Me in the Heart
Summary: [Mel Edit: I goofed and didn’t put the right summary. I am a fool]
You and Natasha have been together for several years. You want forever, and she’s pulling away.
Features/Warnings: Angst;
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff/Reader
Notes: This is a request from last year that I finally got inspiration to finish. As always, I’m opening to revisiting fics!
Request: “Could I request a Natasha x fem!reader fic please? Like one where Nat x r have been together for years but for the last year or so, R has wanted to get married but Nat keeps saying she’ll never get married. Nat doesn’t pay much attention to her anymore. One day, R, Yelena and Nat meet and Yelena pays a lot of attention to R, making her feel real good and making her blush and giggle every time Yelena compliments her/flirts with her. Nat gets annoyed and calls r out once they’re home (1/2)(2/2) They fight and r tells Nat all she’s been feeling lately. Alone, unloved, just there to be a fucktoy for Nat and nothing else. Nat promises her they’ll get help and they’ll fix their relationship, that she’ll try harder and make an effort. Thank you so much :) xx”
Word Count: 1942
Your fist connected with the bag in front of you. It felt good to release the tension that had been building from everything. Fury was on your ass lately about your mission reports. Steve was on your ass about slacking in your training. And you had been stressed by Natasha’s lack of communication.
You and Natasha had been together for several years, since you’d joined the Avengers, just before the fall of SHIELD. You knew what you wanted, and it was forever with her. The topic of marriage was one the both of you danced around. Last time you had brought it up, she brushed it off. You knew you could live without getting married, but it was something you wanted with her and something you’d wanted for some time. You wanted to be on the same page, to know if it was something to put on the shelf. You’d be okay if it wasn’t something she wanted, you just needed to know and an answer was never given.
“What’d that bag ever do to you Rose?” Sam asked. You jumped a little before looking over to where he was leaning against the wall. You hadn’t seen him come in.
“Everything, Jack,” you joked. It had been a running joke between you and Sam since a mission gone wrong on the water that evoked the infamous scene from Titanic. You both fit on the door.
“What’s really wrong?” he asked. You sighed. Sam could read you better than anyone, barring Natasha. It was why you two were frequently partners on mission. You worked well together, seamlessly moving from one mission to the next.
“It’s relationship woes. We had a...disagreement before she left on her mission. I brought up the big M again,” you explained, moving to sit on the bench as you grabbed your bottle of water. Sam sat down beside you.
“Eventually you two do need to have that discussion. Is that all that’s bothering you?” he asked.
“I feel like she’s pulling away. You know how my last relationship went,” you told him. He let out a light laugh before speaking.
“Your ex was a piece of work. I know you. And I know Natasha. Natasha is the furthest thing from your ex. Have you told her how you feel?” he asked. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You hadn’t brought it up. You weren’t sure how. You didn’t want to appear clingy. It was one of your fears when it came to voicing your feelings.
“To paraphrase Jersey Shore, I don’t want to appear like a stage five clinger,” you grumbled. You glared as Sam doubled over with laughter.
“I thought you hated that show,” he said when he caught his breath. You looked anywhere but at him. You hoped Bucky wouldn’t murder you for what you were going to say.
“I’ve been binging it with Barnes and Rogers when we have free time,” you admitted. At that, Sam had completely fallen off the bench laughing. You shook your head at your best friend. If that was the price you had to pay to end the conversation on your relationship issues, you’d pay it. Even if it meant facing the wrath of Bucky for letting Sam know that bit of information.
You both left the gym, headed for the living room. You knew Natasha was due back that day and that she was bringing Yelena with her. Yelena had met up with Natasha and Bucky on the mission. You liked Yelena, when she’d come around. She had her own room at the compound, but wasn’t formally an Avenger. She liked the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Tony was more than happy to offer her a place to stay.
You were in the middle of watching a rerun of The Nanny with Sam and Steve when the trio arrived. The three of you had just placed the pizza order, knowing the others would be in and out. You stood up and walked to Natasha, who placed a gentle kiss on your lips.
“I’m going to go shower before dinner gets here. Save my seat for me?” she asked.
“Always,” you replied. Bucky and Yelena both took their leave as well, all three of them in need of a shower after their debrief with Fury and Hill. You saw the look Sam gave you and just shook your head. Natasha was most affectionate after a mission. But by the end of the evening she’d be shrugging you off. It was a cycle that you had grown used to. You weren’t sure when things had changed.
Dinner arrived along with a freshly showered Natasha who sat down beside you, one hand on your thigh, itching for the contact. But you knew by the time dinner was done, Natasha would no longer be beside you. That she would come to bed after she was sure you were asleep. Unless she wanted to relieve tension. You felt more like her personal fucktoy than her girlfriend some days. A body to warm her bed and get her off. There were no bedtime conversations. There was no cuddling. No moments that belonged to just the two of you that didn’t involve sex. You hated it.
You stood and stretched some time after you finished dinner. You felt Natasha’s eyes on you. You knew it wouldn’t be long before she followed you to the room the two of you shared. For once, you were going to turn her down. You set about your nightly routine, taking a quick shower and brushing your teeth before pulling on pajama pants and a tank top. You weren’t surprised to see Natasha lounging on the bed when you entered the room.
“I missed you baby,” she murmured as you sat on the bed. She knelt behind you, bringing one hand around to trail up your stomach to your breast. You rebuffed her attempt.
“Not tonight, Nat. I don’t think dinner sat well,” you lied. You heard her huff and bit your lip in an attempt to hold the tears at bay. You heard her get under the covers and wondered where things had started to go wrong before getting under the covers yourself, your back turned to her.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, Yelena was joining the two of you for breakfast in your room. Room was an understatement. Each Avenger had their own kitchenette and living space with a separate bedroom. It was really like a small apartment. Most times though, the team could be found in the common spaces unless they wanted time to themselves or they were off compound on missions or visiting friends and family.
You were making pancakes. Yelena had volunteered to help. Nat had left on her morning run and had only mentioned that Yelena was coming over before she left. You felt at ease with the blonde. You doubled over in laughter as she smudged flour on your face after saying you had a spot of flour on your nose. Neither of you had heard Natasha come in until you heard the thud of her water bottle on the counter, startling you.
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” she asked, glaring at Yelena.
“We were just making breakfast, Nat. It’ll be done soon. Why don’t you go grab a shower?” you said to her. With one last glare, Nat stalked from the room angrily. You sighed.
“She loves you, you know,” Yelena said softly.
“Sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” you muttered. You set about setting the table, pouring coffee for Natasha, made just like she liked it. Breakfast was tense. Yelena threw a couple flirty comments before Natasha’s glare made her stop. She knew when to stop. The tension ramped up throughout breakfast, even as Yelena engaged Natasha in conversation. After breakfast, Yelena excused herself when she sensed the tension had only grown, making an excuse about having promised Wanda she would spar with her. You steeled yourself for the fight that was brewing.
“Seems like you and Yelena are getting on just fine,” Natasha said, her tone even and her eyes cold. You scoffed.
“Yes, Natasha. We are. I figured you’d want your sister and I to get along,” you replied as you began picking up the dishes to bring into the kitchen.
“I didn’t mean flirt with her! I know that look,” Natasha said.
“It was harmless,” you told her.
“Was it? Because it seems to me that you want to be anywhere except with me these days,” Natasha argued. You laughed. Truly laughed.
“Oh that’s just rich coming from you. Natasha we rarely share a bed anymore. When we do, it’s a quick fuck. It’s like that’s all I’m good for anymore. Being a warm body,” you cried. Natasha paused. Surely that couldn’t be true. She tried to think about the last time the two of you had gone on a date. The last time you two of you just spent time together. She was drawing a blank.
“I’ve been busy,” she said weakly. She knew it was a poor excuse. You’d been busy too. But you always made time to see her. And she would just brush you off. Natasha wasn’t so sure she could salvage the situation. She had never been on the receiving end of the disappointed look on your face. She didn’t like it.
“What are we Natasha? Anytime I bring up marriage you skirt the subject. Say not now. Later. When is later, Natasha?” you asked. You wanted answers. You knew this was going to be a make or break conversation for your relationship. You hoped it wouldn’t be a break. You weren’t sure you could handle losing her, not like this.
“You know how I feel about marriage,” Natasha replied.
“Do I? You always deflect,” you said, your voice lowering. You knew the pair of you were on a collision course with the point of no return. You were desperate to reign in your tempers before that point.
“You want to marry me? After everything I’ve done, everything you know about me?” she asked. Her voice betrayed a vulnerable side of Natasha you had never seen. A softness you had never heard in her voice before.
“Of course I want to marry you! I want to shout from the rooftops that Natasha Romanoff is mine! My wife, my love. But that doesn’t matter, Nat. As long as I have you, I’m happy. Married or not married, as long as you're mine,” you argued. The two of you stood for a moment, looking at one another. You wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel her arms wrapped around you. She stepped toward you, gently taking the dishes from your hands and placing them on the table beside you before bringing one hand up to cup your face.
“There is one thing I know for certain in this life. I don’t want to live it without you by my side. I haven’t been fair to you lately. I shut down instead of talking to you and it took until now for me to realize how close I’ve come to losing you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. You took her other hand in yours, squeezing it gently.
“Then we’ll talk to someone. Because Nat. I don’t want to lose you either,” you replied. You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood there, embracing one another in a way you hadn’t in so long. There were still discussions to be had. But they could wait. For now, you took comfort in one another, knowing that come tomorrow the real work would begin.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff/reader#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#natasha romanov/reader#natasha romanov x reader#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction
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Migraines
Word count: 1679
Genre: Hurt/comfort
Pairings: Natasha x fem!reader, platonic avengers x fem!reader
Warnings: Some swearing (let me know if I need to add more)
Request: hi~ was wondering if you’d do a natasha x reader with a dash of platonic avengers when reader has chronic migraines but hasn’t told nat so ends up in random places to try and sleep them away and the others keep finding her and then nat figures out she’s hiding something and feels hurt but ends fluffy wanting to take care of reader next time? you can choose who and change any part you want!
Summary: Reader gets really bad migraines and is constantly being found by the team when she wants to be alone, however her girlfriend Natasha doesn’t know what’s going on.
A/n: This request was for @casperlikej so I hope you like it! Also I would like to mention that I know next to nothing about migraines so this probably won’t be super accurate but hopefully it’s ok to read anyways. I’m queuing this to come out on Sunday so that over the weekend I can work on the friends to enemies to lovers three part series and get that out soon (no I have not forgotten about that request). I am only like a sixth into that series but so far I’m super proud of it so I can’t wait to get it done! Also if anyone has ideas, feel free to request anything because I like having multiple fic ideas to think of at all times. Anyways I’m rambling now but I hope you enjoy this fic!
You hated being away from Natasha because although you had only been together for a few months and only known her for half a year you were sure you loved her but sometimes you just couldn’t stand pretending to be okay in front of her so you would hide yourself away. Currently your favourite place to hide was a nice rocking chair near the medbay area that was tucked away in the corner of a room. Barely anyone ever went by and the few that did never seemed to notice, giving you the anonymously you needed in order to curl up with your head in your knees and try to calm your head down.
“Y/n? What are you doing here?” You hear Tony’s voice ask and you startle.
“Oh, um, I’m just spending time with myself.” You respond lamely as Tony raises an eyebrow.
“You never spend time by yourself,” he points out, “whenever you want to get away from us you always spend time with Natasha.”
“I am alone sometimes.” You say starting to get annoyed.
He scoffs. “No you aren’t, is everything ok between you two?”
“Everything is fine, just leave!” You snap at him. He hesitates in leaving the room but ultimately goes without saying another word after seeing how intensely you started glaring at him. It takes longer than usual for your migraine to go away because usually staying level headed helped but at least you yelling got Tony out of the room and to stop asking questions.
---
It was only a few days later that you got another migraine. You excuse yourself from the room you were sitting in with Bruce, Tony and Nat, mumbling some bullshit about needing to go to the store and ignoring Tony’s worried look on your way out. You knew that Tony would come looking for you in your old place so you decide to hole up in the room near the pad Thor uses whenever he visits earth. Today wasn’t a very bad migraine because you were able to catch the signs early but it still takes slightly over an hour for your head to stop pounding. You’re about to leave the room and go back to find the others but just to your luck Thor happens to arrive today unscheduled, something that only happens every few weeks.
“Lady Y/l/n!” his voice booms happily as he steps inside, “it’s so good to see you, but what are you doing here, I wasn’t aware I had informed anyone of my arrival.”
You laugh slightly at his formal way of speaking and confused expression. “You didn’t, I just happened to be here because I was trying to be alone for awhile.”
“Are you feeling unwell?” He asks, looking concerned.
“Not at all,” you reassure him, “in fact I was just about to go back to the others when you arrived, shall we find them together?” He nods eagerly, holding out his arm for you to hook onto like a true gentleman.
---
The next time you try to hide away you’re talking to Steve and he isn’t getting your subtle cues that you want to leave so he just keeps talking. You think he is talking about some sort of mission but honestly you don’t know because it physically hurts your brain to pay attention. You want to yell at him so badly but you can’t bring yourself to because he isn't trying to hurt you at all and he’s too nice to be angry at.
“You agree Y/n?” You manage to make out.
“Yes.” You say, not knowing what you’re even agreeing to.
“Great, I’ll go talk to the others, see you tomorrow for the morning training!” He says before walking off. You groan out loud as soon as you can no longer see him, partly because of how much your head hurts and partly because you accidentally told Steve that morning training was a good idea. This time you just plop yourself on the nearest couch and hope nobody finds you.
---
You stumble into Bruce’s lab calling out for him. It had been over a week since your last migraine and encounter with Steve, one of the longest breaks you’ve had within recent memory but that came back to bite you in the ass when today’s was worse than ever before, even blurring your vision a little because of the pain.
Bruce stands up from behind a pile of boxes. “Y/n, what brings you here.”
“Pain meds now.” You order in a weak voice. He looks curious but doesn’t question you, heading towards a back cabinet and pulling out a bottle of pills. You immediately take two and swallow, ignoring him scolding you that you should only take one. Luckily since Bruce invented them himself it only took about five minutes for them to kick in.
“Sorry, I had a really bad headache.” You tell him which is a half truth.
He looks at you in concern. “Are you sure that was only a headache? It looked bad.”
You wave him off, heading towards the door because you didn’t want him to ask anymore questions. “I’m fine Brucie, thanks again!” He sighs and shakes his head as he watches you leave, worried but deciding it’s not his place to badger you about it.
---
Since every time you got a migraine you always ended up around one of the others you made a plan so that you could avoid everyone because you knew that one day your luck was going to end and Natasha would be the one to find you. You knew that she wouldn’t be mad at you or anything since you can’t control them but the relationship is still new and you don’t want to badger her with any of your problems.
That’s why as soon as you start to feel a migraine coming on you hoist yourself up into the vents above your (sort of) shared room with Natasha where you had left a blanket and some pillows to relax with… only to find Clint waiting for you there.
“I was wondering who had left these up there.” He says, seeming like it was a perfectly natural thing for him to be in the vents above your room. You decide not to question it, only sighing because you know that conversation would take up too many thoughts that you don’t have space for right now. You’re just so fucking done with your migraines and want them to go away.
Clint notices your sadden expression and is serious for once. “Y/n, what’s going on?”
“I get these stupid fucking migraines and it only seems to be getting worse and I don’t want anyone to think I’m weak and I want Natasha but I don’t want to bother her with my problems.” You unload, holding back tears.
“I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t know how to make you feel better,” he confesses, “however why don’t you try to take a nap in your own bed and if you really don’t want Tasha to find you I can keep her distracted.” You nod and he helps you back out of the vents, climbing down after you.
“Clint?” you say as he’s leaving the room and he turns around, “thanks.”
---
Clint makes his way to the common room where he sees Steve talking to Natasha.
“Hey guys, what’s up?” He asks with a smile, faltering when he sees Natasha looks upset. “Nat, what’s wrong?”
“I think Y/n is going to break up with me.” She says, her voice thick with emotion.
Steve frowns. “I told you not to jump to conclusions, maybe you should just talk to her.” Natasha just shakes her head, looking down and taking a deep breath, trying to regulate her emotions.
“Y/n’s going to hate me for this,” Clint says as two pairs of eyes turn to him, “but you should go to your room, I promise that she’s not planning on breaking up with you.”
Natasha noticeably brightens. “Are you sure?”
Clint nods. “I’m sure, she said not even five minutes ago that she wanted you. She’s going through some shit right now that you should talk to her about but she wouldn’t break up with you.”
“Thanks.” Natasha replies, before hurrying to your shared room, worried about you after what Clint said.
---
You curl up on the bed and let a few tears fall out and before long you are full on sobbing. You always try to stay strong and not cry but you just can’t deal with the migraines anymore. The bed shifts behind you and you sit up straight looking behind you. Natasha is climbing on to it and looking at you with a worried expression on her face.
“I thought Clint was going to keep you busy.” You say, sniffling to try to stop your tears.
“He must have lied because he told me to come here.” She responds.
“He’s an asshole.”
She gives a small laugh. “Normally yes, but he did the right thing, I want to help you with whatever is upsetting you.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with me like this,” you tell her, “my migraines are my problem that I have to deal with.”
She moves across the bed and puts her arms around you. “No sweetheart, I’m here with you.” You start to cry again, this time while it’s slightly from the pain it’s mostly because you feel so overwhelmed with how much she supports you. She pulls you in tightly to her chest, and plants a kiss on the top of your head.
“I will always be here for you if you need something ok?” she says. “But now you need to rest.”
“But-” you start to protest before she cuts you off.
“No buts, you need sleep.” She says while shushing you. You wiggle back, trying to be as far into arms as possible before you slowly drift off, the pain of the migraine going away and all you can feel is warmth.
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Taglist: @fayhar @stephanieromanoff @stop-drop-and-drumroll @acertainredhead (if you want to be added, comment, send an ask, or message me)
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow#black widow x reader#avengers#avengers x reader#platonic avengers x reader#marvel reader insert#marvel fanfiction#x reader
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Stucky Fic Recs
So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).
Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!
Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!
Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:
‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear
Rating: M, Words: 117,692
https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516
“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”
[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]
‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar
Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789
https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577
"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."
"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."
Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"
"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."
"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”
[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]
'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid
Rating: M, Words: 71297
https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814
But Steve was fine.
Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.
He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.
AKA
In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.
[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]
‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends
Rating: E, Words: 67,775
https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217
“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."
Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"
"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”
[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]
‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous
Rating: E, Words: 34,537
https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736
“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”
[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]
‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic
Rating: E, Words: 88,570
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077
“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”
Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.
He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.
Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”
[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]
‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)
Rating: E, Words: 94,364
https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481
“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.
James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.
“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.
“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”
“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.
[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]
'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou
Rating: E, Words: 111695
https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582
“Sergeant Barnes?”
“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.
“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”
Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.
“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”
“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.
Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.
“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.
[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]
Propietary Information by Notlucy
Rating: E, Words: 85141
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777
“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”
[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']
‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB
Rating: M, Words: 17280
https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941
“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.
So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”
[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]
‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday
Rating: E, Words:75562
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530
“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”
[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]
'War, Children' by Nonymos
Rating: E, Words: 106615
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394
“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.
Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”
[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]
'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow
Rating: G, Words: 51191
https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072
“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.
It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”
[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]
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Destroyed
Part 3
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!reader (implied Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader)
Warnings: mentions of murder, cussing, anger issues? idk lol
A/N: I feel like from this part onwards I’ve put a lot of plot just to justify my planned ending. Bear with me, though! Y/N is gonna have a lot of stuff to figure out :D
Summary: You always thought that the best way to get revenge is to let them see you’re happy. You also thought that the best way to move on is to convince yourself that you’re okay until you no longer need any more convincing. You’re about to find out how effective it was.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
Two months later.
Three years.
You started to think like the number three has a very significant part in your life.
You have been in love for almost three years after being left alone three years prior. After that very eventful party that you’re supposed to celebrate for yourself, you have unconsciously reverted to your old self.
Of course, nobody in the team knew how you operated in your early days of being an assassin. The closest one who had any idea what that might be was Natasha, being a former assassin herself.
Your best friend was the first person to know what happened, and after that, the redhead no longer bothered to hide her distaste.
She would visibility glare at Wanda and Vision when they’re being lovey-dovey, even when you’re not in the same room. Yup, Wanda had started seeing him as soon as she saw the sun after that night.
You were devastated, absolutely devastated. You didn’t need a verbal confirmation to know that Wanda must’ve only been by your side again because you almost died. And that pisses you even more.
If there is one thing you hate in the world, it’s that receiving unnecessary pity.
She was your girlfriend, for fuck’s sake. And the fact that she needed to pity you first before she does her damn job, never fails to make your blood boil.
You were hurting, so much, but you refused to let Wanda have the satisfaction of seeing how much she affected you.
So, you didn’t bother to just stay in one spot to gather your thoughts. Natasha suggested that you extend your break from missions. Since the entire team was aware of your breakup, courtesy of your ex-girlfriend sidling up with a fucking air fryer, Steve agreed to let you if you desire.
But you didn’t. You were too stubborn to let people think you’d let heartbreak get in the way of your life.
“Y/N come on, you need to let yourself heal. You couldn’t do that if you don’t even try to acknowledge the pain you’re in.” Natasha said as she found you in your room the next morning after your breakup, already on your training clothes.
You lazily glanced up at her, “There’s no need to heal, Nat. Weren’t you the one who remembers every sign that says she no longer wants me? You’ve told me every single time. So I already know.” You said as you turned and walked around her to leave.
“Why would I bother to sulk over a person who doesn’t give a shit about me? I might as well just sell my tears. Now, are you gonna spar with me or not? I’ve got the extra rage I need to kick your ass.” You joked as you smirked at the redhead before heading to the gym.
Of course, you’ve always been full of words.
This worries Natasha even more. She was the only person who sees how broken you are. You’d come to her room some nights, your eyes blood red with tears, and your body trembling.
Wanda also noticed your behavior. She’d find herself frowning when you’d glance at her direction during team meetings like nothing happened. You were extremely civil, and she didn’t know what to feel about that. She couldn’t help but feel a pang in her chest thinking that you probably didn’t care enough to be heartbroken about it.
Not like she had the right to have a say in that.
Actually, Natasha would rather the rest of the team see you as she does. She’d rather have her or anyone in the team find you locked up in your room crying your heart out, at least that way she’d know you’re taking the first step in moving on.
Seeing that you only let her see you that way, and you’re not even uncomfortable at seeing Wanda and Vision around the compound, worries her.
She recognizes your actions; you’re not trying to heal and move on, you were running away.
Running away from your own pain; it’s never going to end well.
She very well knows it first hand.
The first time Natasha noticed the effects of you running away from your emotions was on a mission a month after your breakup.
*****
The entire team was in the briefing room, Fury just called an emergency meeting that requires the help of all the Avengers. Naturally, you were chatting with Natasha and Tony, whom you were seated in between.
“So, what do you think this is? Another Hydra infiltration? Ugh, I’m tired of seeing their dumb uniforms.” You groaned as you leaned your head back on the chair.
Tony raised an eyebrow at you, “Didn’t you find it exciting when we kick Hydra’s ass? You technically have the advantage over the rest of us because you’ve been to the majority of their bases.” Tony smirked.
You playfully stuck out your tongue and rolled your eyes at him.
Your past was no longer a secret from the team, it hadn’t been since you’ve joined the Avengers. Well, at least the master assassin part.
So it’s also not surprising that you’ve led the majority of the missions involving Hydra since you’ve got the inside knowledge the team always needed.
When Fury entered the room, followed by Steve, the team had gone quiet. Waiting for whatever this emergency meeting was.
“So, I hope y’all have a fireproof suit. Because you might need one.” Fury said as he distributes identical folders for all the team to see.
“SHIELD has intercepted an intel about an incoming shipment of nuclear weapons for Hydra. I want you to come and get the shipment before Hydra does.” he continued, the team only nodding in return reading the mission details.
This seems like just an extraction mission, but anything that includes the word “nuclear” is technically waving red flags.
When the team arrived at the spot, you have expected it to be another abandoned warehouse. Instead, it was some sort of beverage factory near the woods.
A ton of bottles can be seen even outside of the property, but with no labels on them.
You, Natasha, Clint, and Sam were tasked to be the eyes of the team outside, mainly to keep watch of Hydra’s arrival. Tony, Rhodey, and Vision would scale the perimeter; the rest would go inside and find the weapons.
You and Natasha were hiding in the woods when you heard Steve through the comms that they’ve found the weapons and they were now preparing it for the transport.
As soon as Steve said that, you felt the familiar tug on your stomach. You frowned and turned to Natasha.
“Something’s wrong. This seems too easy, don’t you think they would just leave a truck-full of nuclear weapons unguarded?”
Natasha pursed her lips, and you immediately know she was thinking the same thing.
“Steve, this doesn’t feel right.” She said, her finger pressed on her right ear.
Tony was the one who replied, “Relax, if someone’s coming, FRIDAY would have already—“
And then a loud explosion cut him off. You turned to see that it was on the opposite side of the property.
“Sam.”
“Clint.”
You and Natasha said at the same time before the two of you shared a look and ran towards them. You can already see Tony arrive in the spot followed by Vision and Rhodey.
“Shit, they’re here Cap! I don’t know how butFRIDAY didn’t detect them!” You heard Tony exclaimed in the comms.
That’s when the Hydra goons came out of the shadows. They’re literally everywhere.
“We’re surrounded, Cap! We’ll try to cover from here, but some would still go in there!” You heard Sam, and you and Natasha just let out a relieved sigh.
The battle was in full swing. You loved the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins. This was your most favorite part of being an Avenger.
You rarely get a job before that requires you to kick some ass. It’s usually just getting in and drive someone’s soul into the Underworld then go home.
So when you had the sweet taste of adrenaline from fighting, you’ve become addicted.
Steve and the others were now outside, and you caught a glimpse of red wisps that surrounded a massive truck. As soon as your eyes landed on Wanda, you felt another rush of adrenaline, and an extreme urge to just get this over with.
You gritted your teeth and turned to the scene in front of you. You let out a low growl, not realizing that it sounds far from your own voice, and then you charged.
*****
When the adrenaline left your body, you found yourself breathing heavily. Your vision getting a little clearer each time you breathe. The first thing you saw was Natasha with her hands up carefully walking towards you. And the rest of the team staring at you.
You blinked at Natasha when she reached you and softly touched your arm.
“What?”
Natasha didn’t answer, instead, you notice her eyes flicked down to your body. You followed, and that’s when you realized your current state.
It’s dark, but when you looked down, your entire suit was glinting and covered in blood. Two dozen—no, three? You didn’t know, but tons of bodies were scattered on your feet. All of them laying on a pool of blood.
Your favorite knives are still on your hands, so full of blood that it drips out in the tip. Natasha squeezed your arm softly and you gasp as you drop your knives.
You didn’t know how long you were standing there, but when you looked up, the team is still staring at you in disbelief.
You didn’t know what was wrong, and why were some of them frowning at you or couldn’t meet your eyes on the way back to the compound. Natasha hasn’t said a word to you either, but she’s linked her arm on yours the entire ride back.
When you arrived, the quinjet’s doors haven’t even completely opened yet when Natasha practically dragged you inside the compound and to your room.
Natasha literally pushed you inside and locked the door behind her.
She crossed her arms and glared at you.
“What the hell was that, Y/N?”
You sighed, “What was what? Look, can we just get cleaned up first? I’m literally covered in blood.” You said as you made the mistake of touching your stomach. A sharp pain shot through your torso as you groaned and stumbled on your feet.
The redhead was instantly beside you, wrapping her arm on your waist for support, and began to inspect your abdomen.
She scoffed, “Okay, Hades, looks like you’ve had a share in all that blood.” She said as she proceeded to guide you to your bathroom.
As Natasha helped you to get out of your sticky suit, that’s when you only felt the pain of the wound. The redhead grabbed your first aid kit and started to remove the bullet.
Your best friend would send you a glare every time you’d flinch while she was working, and you would just send her a sheepish look.
In all honesty, your memory is a little hazy. The last clear thing you remember is seeing that you’ve been surrounded by Hydra and Tony’s sensors never saw them coming.
But now, your memory is getting clearer. You remember fighting; you remember the satisfaction of pushing and dragging your friendly karambit knives deep into the bodies of your enemies, remembering their screams and the look of horror in their eyes as they meet yours.
You can’t help but smile. It’s fine, right? They’re your enemies, it’s always been kill or be killed.
“What are you smiling about, weirdo?” You snapped out of your thoughts to find Natasha raising an eyebrow at you. She was now patching up your wound, which thankfully didn’t need some stitching.
You grinned at her, “Nothing, just remembered we kicked Hydra’s ass again,”
The redhead just frowned. When she was done, she once again crossed her arms and turned to you.
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You killed them all, Y/N! Why?”
You stared at her dumbfounded. She’s not seriously asking why you protected yourself, right?
“What are you talking about? Should I just let them kill me instead?”
Natasha scoffed and pinched the bridge of her nose as she stood up and paced in her spot.
“We don’t kill if unnecessary, Y/N. We always just knock them unconscious! I was literally fighting beside you, I’ve seen what you did, and I know your style. You weren’t aiming for the weak spots, you were aiming at the killing spots.”
You frowned, did you really? Did the Avengers really have a rule not to kill? And who would write the line of deciding if it’s necessary or not?
“We’ve been calling out to you, Y/N. If only I wasn’t busy not getting myself killed then I would’ve given you a black eye for ignoring us.” Natasha continued, still glaring at you.
You looked at her and sighed, “I really don’t see the problem, Nat. As you said, I was also busy trying not to get killed.” You said softly as you fiddled your fingers.
Natasha’s eyes softened as she moved beside you to put her hand on your shoulder.
“I was just surprised. We all are. I just...I’ve never seen you get worked up like that before, and we’ve had our fair share of difficult missions.”
You smiled, “Yeah, I probably overdosed with adrenaline so I didn’t hear you calling me out.”
“Well, try not to get so excited next time? Oh, and prepare your ears, you’re gonna have the lecture of your life.” The redhead joked and you both let out a chuckle.
*****
And now, a month after that, you didn’t get any better. Although you lessened your kills during missions compared to the first time it happened, you would always come back from a mission with another soul you’ve helped leave the world.
The redhead always knew that and was getting more and more concerned each time she finds you cleaning your blood-covered knives in your bathroom, whistling to yourself like you were just washing dishes.
Natasha also noticed the unconscious gestures you do when Wanda would address Vision as her boyfriend. You’d clench your fist under the table or cross your arms to hide them.
It’s how your best friend is still aware that you’re still hurt, even if you stopped coming to her room late at night, crying and wanting to be held.
Steve would also refrain from sending you to missions often, completely aware of your somewhat addiction to taking a life.
It’s like you’ve literally lived up to your codename.
Some members of the team have teased you about it once or twice, mainly Tony because...he’s Tony.
“Good morning, oh great Grim Reaper! How many souls are you scheduled to collect today?” You’d only laugh and punch him playfully.
Unbeknownst to you, your ex-girlfriend has been watching you since that incident. She felt an otherworldly presence and she’s sure that she felt your senses tied to whatever it was that night. She didn’t mean to, but whatever force you had that time was so strong it was itching Wanda’s power to take a look.
And so, she did, and felt twice as intense as when Pietro died.
It was bothering her.
She’d been with you for almost three years, and she never once felt a presence of such intense power coming from you.
So, she decided to talk to you about it.
*****
You were on your desk in the corner of your room playing on your phone when you heard someone knocked. Without looking up, you called, “It’s open!”
As you heard your door open and close, you frowned because the footsteps are quiet. And Natasha is the only person you know who’d be quiet like that.
With your eyes still glued to your phone, you let out a chuckle, “I thought you think our friendship was beyond personal boundaries, Nat. Didn’t expect you to remember how to knock?” You joked, completely oblivious that the person standing behind you is the last person you’d expect.
Wanda shifted uncomfortably, as she can hear the loud sounds of guns coming from your phone and was completely aware that you’re in your own dimension when you’re playing.
“Oh shit! Ugh,” you cursed, and the brunette couldn’t help but smile. You’ve always been addicted to your shooting games, and the memories of her catching you still awake at 2 am playing your games flowed through her mind.
Wanda was pulled out of her sleep to the sounds of soft grunts and soft movements of the arm she’s currently using as a pillow.
The brunette slowly opened her eyes, her arms are still wrapped around you but she can feel your hand isn’t on its usual spot on her shoulders.
She also noticed a soft light illuminating both of you so she slowly looked up at you and found your eyes focused on something above her head. You were so caught up in what you were doing that you didn’t notice the woman in your arms watching you.
Wanda sighs and shifted upwards to meet your lips.
“Mhmm!!” You softly grunted as your line of sight was suddenly met with closed eyes and the smell of a familiar rose shampoo reached your nose.
That’s when you only realized that your girlfriend was awake. You gave her a sheepish smile as your eyes started to dart between hers and the phone above her head.
“Hello, my love. Did I wake you?” You whispered as your hands started to fumble with controls, trying to hide in the game and prevent your character to die.
“Baby, are you seriously still awake playing again?” She whispered back before glancing at the clock on your bedside, “It’s 2:30 am, and we have training at 7, how are you gonna get a proper sleep?”
You were silent for a few moments, and obviously, your girlfriend knows it’s because you were still playing. She playfully rolled her eyes before snatching the phone out of your hands, which earned a slight protest from you.
“Wanda! I’m almost finished!” You softly exclaimed. The brunette untangled herself from you to put your phone on the drawer beside her, far from your reach.
She let out a soft chuckle when she turned and found you pouting, “Y/N, is it really worth replacing curled up asleep with your girlfriend just for a few games? How are you even able to play at this hour? I thought that game is online and requires other human players.” She mumbled as she went back to her place at your side.
You chuckled, “Oh, sweetheart, you’re not seriously assuming I’m the only one playing at 2 am, right?”
Your girlfriend playfully hit your chest, “Shut up and sleep nerd or I’m throwing away your phone.”
And with that, you shut up and pulled your girlfriend closer.
“For the record, though, I’m not a nerd.”
Wanda was pulled out of her reminiscing when you slowly turned around, “Hey, why aren’t you talk—“
As Wanda’s eyes meet yours, you froze. You never thought you’d see the eyes you’d fallen in love with for so many years in your room again. Even though she only hasn’t been here for over two months, her eyes are still the ones you’d love to get lost on.
Of course, that was your heart talking, but it hasn’t been in control for some time now.
As soon as your eyes met, Wanda immediately felt that familiar power. It was like desperately reaching out to her own, and it was getting more and more intense as you stare at each other.
She doesn’t understand what was going on, your face was emotionless, but she can now clearly feel that force emanating from you.
You quickly spared a glance on your phone and scoffed. What the hell is she doing here? You have just finished your training, and your plan to relax by playing for the rest of the afternoon was now clearly no longer possible.
You start to feel your head getting warmer, your vision slightly blurring as you stare back at her.
You reluctantly exit the game, you are so gonna be banned for the next 5 minutes so might as well hear this out.
You took a deep breath before turning on your chair to completely face her.
“What do you want?” It came out harsher than you intended, but you remembered you didn’t care anymore.
Wanda clenched her jaw to stop herself from flinching, she couldn’t blame you though. But she’s still never gonna get used to hearing the bite in your tone when you address her.
The brunette cleared her throat, “I-I wanted to talk to you about something.”
You let out a sarcastic laugh as you crossed your arms and glared at her, “This better be good.”
“W-Well first, I wanted to say I’m sorry because I never got to—“
“You made me quit my game for this bullshit? Get the fuck out, witchy.” You raised your voice a little, she does not get to do this. You only say sorry if you do stuff you didn’t mean to.
Staying with you out of fucking pity and then cheating on you with a fucking blender is something she did on purpose, you can’t fucking do all that on accident.
The audacity!
You can practically feel your blood boiling now. Your head is buzzing but your vision of the woman in front of you is very clear.
As soon as the words got out of your mouth, Wanda felt that harsh power from you flowed around her and she immediately felt it completely overwhelm her entire body. What she felt isn’t unfamiliar; the feeling came out of nowhere but it all comes to her full force. Fear.
She let out a grunt of pain as she stumbled forward and dropped to her knees, clutching her head with both hands.
Your heart dropped at the sight, and before you can stop yourself, you lunged forward and dropped beside her. Your arm finding its old spot around her and your hand softly clutching her elbow as she tried to catch her breath.
As soon as you touched her though, the pain and fear suddenly dissipated as quickly as it appeared.
Wanda’s eyes widened as she realized her body was shaking. That power...it was so full of raw emotions that she can’t quite determine because there was so many coursing through at once. But why was fear so clear amongst them?
Her breath hitched as she turned and found your face mere inches from hers. Your eyes that she loved to stare at were glinting with concern.
It was the first time in two months that you didn’t look at her with hate in your eyes.
Wanda’s heart fluttered at the realization.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You frantically asked as you scan her face for signs of pain. You saw that Wanda’s eyes had tears on them and the panic made you completely forget all the anger you had.
Wanda couldn’t help but let herself lean on you, letting out a sigh of relief as you showed no resistance and let her body rest against yours, holding her close.
The brunette was definitely confused now, she knew that she now loved Vision so why was she enjoying this?
Then suddenly, she remembered why she was here in the first place.
*****
There was a weirdly comfortable silence that followed as you hold her for the next few moments.
But when Wanda slowly looked up to you and your eyes met, you were suddenly aware of your position. Your eyes widened a little and you awkwardly cleared your throat, the air between you suddenly becoming tense once again.
You start to help Wanda stand and guide her to sit on your bed, and the brunette tried hard not to let her disappointment show on the loss of contact. The butterflies in her stomach disappeared as you stepped back and leaned on your table instead.
You frowned and stared at her, mentally cursing yourself for having a moment of weakness. Especially around her, out of all people!
And just like that, your heart was once again, shut down.
When she glanced at you, you were eyeing her with that same harsh glint on your eyes, and she can’t help but sigh.
“W-What did you just do, Y/N?” She whispered, but loud enough for you to hear.
You raised an eyebrow at her, “What did I do? Yeah, I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve just let you tremble on my floor, maybe then you’ll just shrink away.”
Wanda bit her lip and blinked, why were there tears forming in her eyes?
“That’s not what I meant, what did you think I felt? I wasn’t auditioning for theater, Y/N. Whatever that was, it came from you.”
You scrunched your nose and stared at her. You definitely know what she was talking about, but you refuse to admit that. Okay, that was not what you expected to hear. You don’t know what you expect but it’s definitely far from that.
You definitely know what she was talking about, but you refuse to show that.
“Came from what? What the hell are you talking about?” You chimed, glaring at her.
Wanda felt another wave of that same power, but it wasn’t as intense.
Her eyes snapped up on you and she stood up, “There! I felt it again! It was subtler, but I know that’s it!”
You couldn’t help but laugh, “Are you sure that wasn’t just your witchy powers messing with you? Looks like I’m not the only one you’ve pissed off today, Maximoff. Now get out before I make you.” You said as you walked around her towards your door.
Wanda is still feeling that presence, it’s barely there but she can still feel it. When she looked down at her hands, she saw a few wisps of red dancing around her hand.
That’s weird. She’s not using her powers.
She whirled around just as you reached the door and opened it.
And then you found yourself face to face with Natasha, her hand hovering in the air where the doorknob was located, indicating she was just about to enter your room.
Her own green eyes flicked to the other that was standing in the middle of your room.
Surprise and confusion quickly seeped into her features as her eyes darts between the two of you.
The redhead cleared her throat, “Uh, I can come back later...”
“No, no, it’s okay Nat. She was just leaving.” You said before Natasha can turn around, giving Wanda a pointed look.
The brunette only crossed her arms and glared at you, “No, I’m not.”
You sucked in a deep breath before clenching your teeth and your fist. And you heard Wanda gasp.
“You’re doing it again!” She exclaimed, walking towards you and stopping only a few inches apart. You just continued to glare at her.
“Okay, whatever this is, it isn’t my business so I’m gonna leave—“
“Y/N has powers,” Wanda blurted out, and if glares can kill, Wanda would’ve been dead by now.
“A-At least I think she does.”
The brunette turned to you, she can feel it growing again, and she’s looking at your face for any sign that might explain and show that you’re doing this.
She didn’t find any. But she knows it’s you.
The presence only dissipated a little when Natasha broke the silence again.
“She has what?” The redhead said dumbfounded and you rolled your eyes.
“Nat, you’re seriously not believing this, right? She’s making it up.”
Wanda sent you an annoyed glance before she met Natasha’s eyes. Hoping that the redhead would at least hear her out.
“Look, I don’t know what your play is for making all this up witchy, but—“
“She’s not.” Natasha cuts you off as she turned to you.
“You were an assassin, Y/N. You and I both know that you know how to tell if people are lying. She’s not.” The redhead said, gesturing to Wanda.
You narrowed your eyes at her and sighed. Deep down, of course, you knew she wasn’t lying. But because of what you feel about her, you just told yourself that you’re not listening to anything she’ll have to say.
And based on what little thing she just told you, about feeling whatever stuff around you, plus everything weird and unusual you’ve felt for the past two months, she might be onto something.
It makes sense.
And that scared the fuck out of you. Because it might mean that she could be the only one who can understand you, and you’ll be at her mercy.
Again.
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff angst#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x female reader#scarlet witch#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff x female reader#black widow#female reader
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Our Future
Pairing: Dark Steve Roger x reader
Summary: You left Steve after he did the unforgivable. But what lengths will he go to to make you forgive him?
Warnings: +18 only, smut, dark themes, sex pollen, dubious consent cause ya know, implied cheating, dark Steve Rogers, dark avengers. Please if any of this bothers you read no further.
Word Count: 2.924
A/N: Happy 7th night of Chanukah! It’s almost to the end! Can you believe it?! Thank you everyone who has read, and reblogged. It means the world to me! Hope you enjoy this nice Dark Steve Rogers fic. Shout out to the ever talented @imanuglywombat for helping bounce some ideas off on this one I didn’t know totally where to go and she helped me find my way.
Trying best to hid your wince you hold your dislocated arm close to you to ease any jarring as you make your way up the ramp into the Quinjet. You’re fairly certain you’re bleeding somewhere if the wetness you feel in your suit is any indication. All you wanted to do was get back to the compound, see medical, then make your way to SHIELD Strike quarters with some good narcos.
“Let me see your arm,” you could break glass with the intensity your jaw clenches at the sound of his voice.
“I’d rather let it fall off,” Steve sighed at your clipped tone, he moves to reach to your arm to set it but you jerk away. Unable to hold in the grunt of pain. Steve frowns at your stubbornness
“I don’t want you touching me,” adamant to solidify your words you take a seat.
“Fine be in pain see if I care,” he stomps off not missing your muttering “You never did care.”
Steve could admit that gutted him. His steps faltered for a fraction. He cared for you more than his own life, more than stupid missions. Sometimes he was just a fucking idiot with women. He’d find a way to fix it though.
Squaring his shoulders he keeps walking to the pilot seat, sitting next to Bucky in the co-pilot seat who side-eyes him. “You gonna leave her like that?”
“She won’t let me touch her,” Buckling himself in he tries his best to keep the pain at bay. Was it really that bad that he couldn’t even set your shoulder back? You’d just sit there in pain than even have him touch you?
He knew you would be mad at him for a while but he figured after 3 months some of your ire would wane.
“Hm,” Bucky watches Steve start up the QuinJet controls, “well can you blame her?”
“Told you not to let her catch you,” he flicks Steve’s ear who tries to swat the hand away, “ever,” Bucky’s condescending tone the same he’d been hearing for months on end since the incident.
“Please don’t start too.” Bucky shrugs flipping switches in response to Steve’s prepping the Quinjet for take off.
Bucky turns his head back, catching your figure way in the back, head tilted down. Your slowed heart rate indicating you’d fallen asleep. He turns back to Steve.
“Now you’ve fucked it by letting her catch you with a side piece,” Steve can’t help but roll his eyes, if Bucky went on about this one more time he was liable to punch his best friend unconscious.
“I wouldn’t start if you’d not fucked this up,” Steve grunts wishing for this conversation to not start-up once more, “how long did I have to hear you going on and on about wanting her?”
“I offered my help,” Bucky bobbed his head back and forth in mock “But no the Great Steve Rogers had to woo her.” He scoffs, resituating himself in his seat.
“My side piece? The girl was yours after all.” Steve recalls for Bucky.
“Yeah well let’s be thankful she didn’t know that when she caught you balls deep in her.” there’s a soft snort from you and they both look back catching their breath. They were fairly certain you hadn’t heard anything, but still...
“All I’m saying is fix it,” Bucky grumbles in a whisper looking directly at his pal, “Cause if I have to hear you whine about not being with her one more time-”
“Yeah I get it, Buck,” Steve sighed looking back at you once more.
Once you’re all back at the compound Steve is hot on your tail following you toward medical. You wanted to scream at him but with your loss of blood, still not sure where from, and the pain in your shoulder you didn’t have any fight left in you.
Steve should have headed his buddy’s words of giving you more space but he was unwilling to be apart any longer. You just had to forgive him and let it go. Simple as that. He’d make sure you saw it that way too. It’s not like you knew about all the other times.
A nurse sees you before you can say anything and you’re ushered into a room the door shutting in Steve’s face. Your snide smile makes his hands ball up.
Pushing his thumb to the entry bad you stick your tongue out when it blares at him denied entry. Of course, you would have made sure FRIDAY knew to keep him away from you. He’d get in. He could see through the partially closed vertical blinds making out your figure removing your gear and uniform. Licking his lips at the outline of your breasts.
It had been too long since he’d had sex. None of the other girls did it for him anymore, knowing you weren’t at home waiting for him to go another round with. He had to get in.
Looking at the pad he types in the override code and smiles in triumph with the door slides open for him to come in, shutting after his entry.
Turning around after finally getting the gown on provided for you, you hiss at the sight of him “Why don’t you bother whatever whore’s bed you crawled out of today?”
“I am not sleeping-”
“I don’t really care Steven.” the resignation in your voice when you interrupt him leaves him speechless. You had been mad at him, that’s all he had seen since that night. Just your fire.
“I’m not the one who stepped out of our relationship,” You squeezed your eyes tight trying to will the overbearing oaf out of your life.
“That’s not fair, as far I knew you-” Eyes snapping open at his pathetic excuses you whipped around, finger-pointing. Steve couldn’t help but inhale the smell of your shampoo at the quick turn. God, he missed you.
“I what? Slept with some dude?” Your fingernail presses into his chest, not caring that he couldn’t feel it through his suit, “Well, I didn’t but you couldn’t listen to me so you went,” you jab your finger into his chest feeling the anger flash through you as if it was that night all over again “and got your dick wet with one of those SHIELD trainees.”
Saving you from this hell the nurse comes in with supplies to tend to your wound and reset your shoulder. You step away from Steve to fall onto the bed, the nurse starting on the gash across your abdomen.
”Go” The soft defeat in your voice, turning your to the side catching his gaze from the corner of your eyes.
“I want to be here,” he makes a step towards you, ignoring the way you hiss at the antiseptic being applied makes his stomach turn. He never did enjoy seeing you uncomfortable, it reminded him of his younger years feeling helpless.
“Please,” You whimper, “If you love or ever loved me you’ll leave me alone.” looking at the nurse you try to convey your apologies for the awkward situation you put her in
“I’ve always loved you,” you can barely find it in you to scoff in disbelief at his words, just so tired of this back and forth.
“Sure have a fucked up way of showing it.”
He knew he had to leave, the finality in your tone let him know there was no moving you. Just yet.
Four weeks, he didn’t see you for four weeks. It was making him irritable, he doesn’t have to talk to you but to at least see your face even with the surly look you give him now would be enough. But nothing for four weeks.
“If you sigh one more time I’m gonna blast a hole through your chest,” Tony declared pointing the blaster cannon he’s tinkering with at Steve.
“I mean you can find another girl right?” Bruce offers before Bucky can stop him, scrambling in his chair. The four of them sitting in Tony’s lab relaxing, having guy time. Well, now it’s just friends’ time. It used to be guy time when he had you.
“No, don’t-” Bucky buries his face in his hands resting elbows on his knees after seeing Steve’s face scrunch up.
“Find another girl?” Steve lamented. Oh if it was so simple.
“Well fuck now you started it.” Bucky groans into his hands. He had just gotten him to agree to getting out of the apartments and spending time with some people.
“What?” Bruce looks around confused at his suggestion. It seemed reasonable, there is plenty of fish in the sea as they say.
“I can’t just find another girl like her, she’s one of a kind. Full of fire and passion but nurturing. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted. But she won’t talk to me,” Steve cards his fingers through his hair messing up the perfectly comb style. “I know if I could get her just have an honest conversation we could work past this.”
“Maybe if you had some HYDRA truths serum you could get her to talk,” Bucky sits up straight sure Steve is done for now.
“Why not give her the serum?” Bruce offers nonchalantly.
“The serum?” Steve raises an eyebrow.
“Dude!” Tony reprimands Bruce who has the audacity to look confused by Tony’s displeasure
“It’s just this thing we made,” Tony opens his mouth before Bruce can start. “Nothing just gets someone to express their thoughts as they come to them and cannot stop.”
“A truth serum.” Bucky offered.
“Nooo,” Tony rolls his eyes, “it’s just a serum that makes them… talk.” Bruce looks at Tony in confusion.
“That’s not the one I meant,” Bruce looks at Tony not picking up on his eyes shifting and grimace to get Bruce to stop talking.
“The one you call ‘Sex Pollen’,” Bucky tried to hide his chuckle with a cough, but Tony catches it glaring at him.
Steve stands up and marches to stand in front of Bruce who looks up at him. “UUh,”
“Show me.” Bruce can only nod at the authority in Steve’s voice.
“What a pushover,” Tony mutters going back to tinkering with his hand blaster. Bruce scampers away to return quickly with a vial.
“It lowers the progesterone and raises estrogen, but the only caveat is the hormones don’t level out until, well,” Bruce stutters trying to explain.
“Until you cum in her, mouth, pussy, ass anywhere,” Tony supplies, Steve’s brow raise, and Bucky stands up in curiosity. They all surround Bruce’s hand holding out the vial.
“Just a little bit,” Tony instructs, “And she’ll be crying for your cock.” All four men stare at the vial with varied interests. More so pride on Tony’s part. “It also makes them fertile as fuck so if you don’t want a baby don’t finish where you can have one.”
Tony chuckled to himself recalling a memory he fails to share. “That’s kind of how we got Morgan.”
“If you don’t give her what she needs, though, her body temperature will climb and well,” Bruce flusters himself trying to explain without being so technical.
“Boiled brain,” Tony finishes watching Steve grab the vial.
“Only about 3 drops bud,” Tony calls out to Steve’s retreating figure.
Steve heard him but his mind was focused on a plan to get you back. Using this he’d easily seduce you, show you why the two of you were so good together and leave a little present in your body tying him to you forever.
Yeah, this would work just fine.
Steve couldn’t believe his luck, you had left your quarters and he was able to slip in, put three drops in a water bottle on the kitchen he knew you’d finish soon.
Then he waited. It wasn’t 20 minutes later that he was knocking on your door upon your return. You were already flushed when you answered. He knew you had drunk the water, if not all of it.
“St-Steve?” You questioned, you had been doing so well not seeing him or knowing he even existed. It had helped so much in cooling your temper. However, it wasn’t to say you did miss him. You missed him something fierce when you were alone in bed using your toys. Toys that never compared to what Steve could do for you.
Eyeing his physique in front of you now was temping enough. The tight shirt showing his pecks and muscles hidden underneath, your eyes trailed down to the sweat pants sitting low on his hips. You had no shame licking your lips at the sight. Maybe you should have rubbed one out this morning?
Gripping the door frame tight you felt shivers run up and down your spine, centering in your underwear where you could feel growing dampness.
Steve,” you repeated, not failing to notice the way his eyes trail up and down your body. “What are you doing here?”
He smiles, pushing his way in, you stumble back giving him full entry into your living space. One part of you says to push him out but the other says to feel his pecs. Shaking your head you repeat yourself. “What are you doing here?”
Steve says your name, it’s deep, masculine, and soaking in desire. You teetered on your feet.
“You feeling okay baby girl?” he catches you in his grasp, though you weren’t really running. His arm around your back, the other holding your hip.
You try to speak but your throat feels suddenly too dry. Eyeing the water bottle on the counter Steve grabs it, keeping one arm behind your back, and hands it to you.
“Go on,” His eyes trained on your lips as you take the bottle to your mouth. You drink and Steve watches the way your throat moves with each swallow. Just as you’re about to take the bottle from your lips Steve tips the bottom of the bottle up making you swallow the remaining contents.
You keep eye contact even as he sets the bottle back down, his thumb running over your bottom lip collecting missed water. Without thinking your mouth opens and you twirl your tongue around his thumb. Collecting the remains.
“Such a good baby girl,” He purrs, your hands on their own accord trail up his shirt, nails dragging along the defined muscles.
“Yeah, you missed me huh?” You begin to nod your head but something shakes you from your stupor. Your eyes widen, hands on his chest begin to push trying to get him away but that only makes him pull you in against his chest.
Your head tilted up, looking at him with growing fear. “What-” you try to think clearly. “What did you do?”
“I only did what I had to,” His eyes shift to the side for a brief moment and when you look over you see the water bottle.
“Did you drug me?” Your words slur, and your hands that were once pushing him away began kneading his muscles under them.
Steve slides his hand down your back to cup your ass. Two fingers dipping between your butt cheeks and pushing you to your toes. When your body rocks against him you can feel his erection pressing into you.
“Its gonna be okay,” He coos, you fight the sensations pushing through, Your desire to rub up against him, the way his fingers feel so good pushing against your ass. A soft mewl pulls at your lips, feeling his chest rub against yours, nipples pebbling with arousal.
He flips you around holding your back to his chest, hands sliding down your sides to pull your shorts and underwear down. One hand cupping your mound, he groans at the dampness against your mound, You certainly had made a mess.
Tony wasn’t lying about this ‘sex pollen’.
“What did you do?” your voice softer than you want it to be. You should be screaming but your body is responding completely contradictory to how you want it to. When he pushes on your back sending your chest forward he doesn’t relieve the pressure until you’re bending in half.
“I’m reminding you how much you need me,” He pushes his sweats down to under his balls. He didn’t wear any boxers for this, no he wanted to be ready to enter you as soon as he could.
He leans back to groan at the sight of your pussy dripping with arousal. Oh, he may have to start giving you a drop of this every day if you were ready so quickly every time.
You moan when he drags his knuckles up and down your slit, admiring the way you rock on your tiptoes and back down pushing his cock against your ass. You knew you were asking him something but for the life of you, you couldn’t recall. All on your mind is how you can feel the heat of his fat cock behind you, the tip rubbing against your ass cheeks.
“What..?” You speak out, your subconscious trying to push through.
“I’m making sure you won’t leave me again baby,”
“No,” you mewl, upset at the thought of leaving him. Not when he makes you feel so good.
“It’s okay though,” he comforts you, gently caresses your sides before lining his cock to your entrance.
He pushes in grunting at the way you grip him, it had been so long since he’d be in you, and from the feel of your tightness it had been just as long for you to take anything inside.
“I’m securing our future.”
#dark steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers x you#Dark!Steve Rogers#Dark avengers#dark fic#smut#sex pollen
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- agent 14/agent steven haines; my drug is my baby (nsft, smut)
It's hot out and Steve's wide awake. His bedroom windows are opened and there's a soft breeze rolling in, toying with the curtains and leaving a soft trace on his warm skin. He sighs and rolls on his stomach, blindly reaching out with one hand, until he touches his phone. His hand clutches around it and pulls. The display blinds him for a split second and he curses under his breath. No new messages.
He's not really surprised. The only person messaging him these days is 14 but they aren't really talking right now, with both of them still being so goddamn angry, so that's that.
He mindlessly checks his social, a former frat getting married, another couple buying another dog and someone's new car. He doesn't care, he can't even bring himself to act, to convince at least himself, that he does. He's missing something. Someone.
His thumb hovers over the display.
No. Yes. No.
He can hear the city breathe. Cars honking, the tram and a slight wind rustling the few leaves this grey concrete hell hole still has to offer. He misses the sound Warren makes, when he's asleep, how soft his breath is.
Steve shakes his head, as if that would have him get rid of the thought more easily. He misses his warmth, how he sometimes hooks one leg around his, arms stretched out. When he's asleep they don't fight.
Steve knows that he can't blame it on 14, they both are to blame, they both are equally responsible. If one of their superiors ever were to find out what they had been doing these past months they'd both vanish from this earth, erradicated like they'd never exist, justified by their act of treason.
And yet there they are: fighting. Rather with their fists and teeth, than with words. His colleagues start to notice the bruises (and even though they don't say a word he is still paranoid about it). Not all of them are born out of aggression, most are a result of the lust that captures their fucked up minds once the violence starts to blossom between them. It turns them on, it turns Steve on, when Warren's hands connect with him in the worst ways possible. It makes his blood sing and his dick hard and he just wants. Wants to press the other man down and take take take until the taking becomes an act of giving, which always errupts the most beautiful sounds from Warren.
He hates himself for the thought, but everything could be just perfect, they could be perfect, like handmade pieces carved to only fit each other. But it's not like that, it's way more hurtful. Their opinions on work, on the government and secret agencies drift apart like Pangaea. It's hell really, one of them starts screaming at one point and then there's no going back. They are both too ambitious, willing to sacrifice everything for their jobs and sometimes Steve wonders not if there will be, but how huge of a blood bath they will go down in. The thought scares him and he knows it scares Warren too, but they don't talk about it, keep their fears far away from each other, locked behind thick vault doors.
They often try their hardest not to talk about work. But eventually, like most people who only really live for their jobs, they drift back to it. It's Steve, who hates that Warren himself is somewhat a criminal and it's Warren who hates, that Steve won't admit that he isn't far form it himself.
They blame and attack each other for failures or provocations of their respective employers and it either ends in slammed doors or sweaty bodies sticking together.
Steve misses it, the adrenaline that shoots through his veins in these moments, the way Warren's body responds to his, how the other feels under his fingers. He misses misses misses and it keeps him awake.
He thinks about the last time he's seen Warren, squirming beneath him, throwing his head back, arching into his touch while throwing slurs his way. Steve thinks about him, about his touch. It's torture and he rolls back onto his stomach, while his mind conjures up a truly beautiful, delicious image.
Steve's sitting down, legs spread wide, back straightend but relaxed nonetheless. Warren kneels in front of him, cheeks slightly reddend, his hands carefully resting on Steve's firm thighs. His eyes are trained on Steve's hard dick, obscenely standing against his abdomen. Warren's bleeding. His nose looks broken and blood slowly tickles over his plump lips, down his chin. His tongue darts out, licks it away, cleans his lips.
Steve groans quietly and rocks his hips into the mattress once, twice, his hands gripping into the sheets as he rocks against the surface, growing hotter and harder.
He had betrayed him, sold his secrets, endangered Steve's life and thus, he has to show him his place again. Warren's eyes are trained on his cock and Steve hums, gently places his hand on the back of 14's head, runs it down to his neck, around to the front and presses down. The noise that erupts from Warren's throat makes the hairs on Steve's body stand up, as he slowly tilts his head back, giving Steve better access to his throat. Blood runs down the delicate, pale skin, pools between Steve's fingers. He runs his hand up again, brushes across Warren's lower lip with his thumb, then forces three fingers in. He gags, his eyelids flutter, before he starts sucking.
Steve moans. The sound is deep in his throat and his boxers are groing tight fast. He impatiently pulls the front down and himself out, raises his hip and closes his hand around his dick.
"You want the real thing, don't you, pretty boy?" Warren's bloody chin now dripples with saliva and he nods, hums around Steve's fingers. He pulls them out and looks at Warren, hits him another time across the face for good measure.
"Come on then, right your wrongs", Steve leans back and Warren lashes forward, tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe from the base to the top.
Steve tucks at himself and moans. It doesn't replace Warren, his scent, his touch, how he feels around and underneath him, his voice but it'll do, if he keeps himself focussed enough. He hates him so much, it makes his stomach twist, he hates his arrogant smile, the edge to his voice when he feels superior and his strut, how he tilts his shoulders back. Steve wants to take one of his cigarettes and burn his delicate skin right there between his shoulder blades, so he won't act all high and mighty anymore. Steve also wants so put his hands on his skin, his body and worship it, every little mole, kiss it until the world ends, burning and crumbling by the wars they wage.
He spits into his hand, rubbing his own saliva around his dick.
Warren leans in, all wet lips, blood and saliva and throaty groans and closes his lips around the tip of Steve's cock. His tongue swirls around it in the warmth in his mouth, hot liquid dripping down the hard shaft.
Steve rolls around, thrusting into his fist, his head buried deep in his cushion, moaning from the back of his throat. His body feels lonely, oddly cold, even though it's warm out and in his bedroom as well, and he raises his free hand, runs it across his flushed chest in a manner Warren would. It makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch.
"You like that, huh?" Warren lets his dick go with an obscene sound and hums deep in his throat.
"Yeah, fuck, I do."
It's what sends Steve to do an insanely stupid thing. He reaches out and grabs his phone, unlocks it while cupping his balls with one hand, squeezing and tugging, while scrolling through his contacts.
The voice on the other end sounds tired, not angry at all. Steve would like to be it the other way around, he wants to be yelled at, hit and torn.
"Why the fuck are you calling, it's literally three in the morning", there's a little yawn and Steve wishes he'd be here, "You better be bleeding out somewhere to bother me now, Haines."
He wants to hit him back with something witty, smart, rude but there's nothing more leaving his mouth but a moan, as his hand wanders up his dick again. There's silence on the other end. It makes his blood race, boil.
"Haines?"
"Yeah fuck, who do you think it is?", his voice is deep and buried in his throat. He groans.
There's a low chuckle on the other end. He wishes he could see that smile, he wishes he could tear it off of Warrens face.
"You ain't really getting yourself off right now, are you?", and when there's no answer just a deep and low sigh, 14 tsks, "That's actually pathetic, Haines."
He sounds wide awake now. Good.
"Tell me", there's shuffling on the other end, "Tell me what you're doing, you moron."
Steve smiles and tugs at his dick, with Warren purring deep into his ear. "Fuck, I'm", he sighs, feels the tension running deep through his stomach, "Touching myself."
"And you're thinking of me? How cute. Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Haines?"
Usually it's Steve who has the upper hand in the little dangerous game they're playing, it comes naturally with him being the higher ranking one, but he will make an exception tonight. Warren's tone is spurring him on, how he talks down on him. He would love for Warren to be here, for Warren to look and talk down on him, to spit in his face and sneer at him.
The words leave his mouth quicker than he can act against them.
"Wish you were here, fuck, touching me."
_
The next morning Steve's late to work. He doesn't even remember the last time he hasn't been on time. Must've been years ago. His chest burns as his shirt rubs over the sore skin. Warren had told him to run his hands over his chest harder harder harder until his nails had scraped the skin. The stinging sensation feels good, it's a nice reminder of last night.
As he rushes towards the FIB building across the empty plaza, he sees a figure leaning against one of the chairs.
"Late, Haines?", it's Warren. He's smoking a cigarette.
Steve raises his hand and shows him his finger.
He knows he's fucked, they both are.
_
It's Wednesday when he gets the mail and Friday when he enters the meeting room. His boss is there and so is Mrs. Rackham, he's seen her once or twice, but this time she's not alone. There are other agents with her and, of course because his life's just gotta be like that, 14 is there too.
His gaze drops to Steve's take-away cup and his lips curl into a smug grin. "If I knew we were having a potluck, I would've brought something as well", his voice is deep and calm, collected, like velvet and Steve'-s pulse sings with it.
"14", Mrs. Rackham's voice cuts through the air, admonishing, like a mother scolding her child.
Now it's Steve's time to grin and he drops his free hand to his belt, hooks one thumb underneath it and cocks his hips forward, looks at Warren. It's the same look he shoots him when Warren sinks to his knees to obediently suck his dick and he eyes him up and down. 14 blushes, his gaze drops.
Steve bathes in his display of power, the feeling that erupts from it takes him flying high. To them, it looks like 14 is listening to his superior but only the two of them know that he isn't. Only the two of them know that he's bowing to Steve's will. They had a change in their power dynamic last night and Steve is not willing to accept that, maybe he's even afraid to do so.
As they take their seats they look at each other once more and Steve feels his stomach flutter.
_
They were at each others throats the second they found themselves to be alone on the floor. Now, only a few minutes later, Steve has Warren bend over the sink of the bathroom. The door is locked but the idea of them being caught, someone seeing how he toys with one of the leading IAA Field Agents, still excites him. He has one hand around Warrens throat, his thumb pressing his chin upward, their eyes meeting in the mirror.
14 is crying. Small, thick tears run down his cheeks, silent evidence of his denied orgasm. He's very pretty that way, Steve thinks, when his cheeks redden and his eyes turn dark, like the stormy sea and his hair's in a mess. He loves it when Warren cries, the sounds he makes and-
"Please."
Steve stops his slow and deep thrusts and blinks dumbfounded. One, two, three seconds pass until he moves again. Laughter spills out of his mouth, deep and satsified.
"What a pretty sound for a pretty boy, huh?", his hand strokes over Warren's ass cheek, gently kneading the flesh below the palm. It's soft and warm and it grounds him.
His voice drops in both, octave and volume, as he leans forward, shoving himself even deeper into 14, lips against his ear. "Say that again", he whispers, tongue darting out and toying with his earlobe.
"Please, Steve. For fucks sake, please fuck me", Warren moans and throws his head back, pressing his throat into Steve's palm more firmly. He presses down and Warren yelps, squirms and their gazes meet in the mirror once more.
Warren holds his own mouth shut with one hand, drowning his moans and screams, as Steve ruts into him like an animal gone wild, fucking them both senseless.
_
Steve's phone rings and he picks up, opening another bottle of wine.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"So, you're still alive then?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am." Why wouldn't I be?
"Good. Just wanted to check."
"Warren?"
"Yeah?"
"Should I be worried?"
"No", and he trust him, because the word carries all the fear, all the thoughts that Steve grew so painfully familiar with.
_
The next time they see each other is a rather spontaneous thing. Well, at least Steve hasn't invited Warren over but there he is, standing in his doorway, hair a mess, his leather jacket on. He eyes Steve up and down, his gaze stops at the obvious bandage around his upper arm. Warren slowly raises his hand and gently touches it. Steve doesn't flinch.
"I saw the news", Warren says, his voice low and nearly inaudible.
"I'm fine."
"You got shot", he looks seriously upset now.
"I'm still alive, ain't I?"
And then he's on him, arms around his neck, lips pressed onto his own, hungrily devouring him. Steve feels Warren's warmth radiating against him and he slips his hands under his jacket, pulls his firm, muscular frame closer, flush against him.
"I-, I was-", he doesn't have to say it, Steve knows anyway. Afraid, Worried, Scared, Frightened.
"I'm still here, pretty boy", he runs his good hand through Warren's dark hair and they look at each other and Steve knows, it hits him like a train, that they are both gone. Warren's gaze is soft and it's so beautiful, but somehow Steve wishes he'd yell at him again, lash out and throw hands at him. That was easier to handle than whatever they just turned into.
They are gentle with each other, for the first time. It's all slow kisses, soft touches and intertwined bodies, heat and whispered words. Steve holds Warren by his hips as he grinds down on his dick and gently brushes over his abdomen, his hip bones and chest with his hands, wants to feel and discover every inch of his body. Warren leans down and kisses him, soft and warm, plush lips that gently move against his own, a tongue darting out, making its way into his mouth. It makes his stomach flutter and fingertips tingle, so he hooks his good arm around his waist and helps 14 to rock onto him, the other hand gently resting on his leg.
They cum with their foreheads pressed together firmly, so close together that their eyelashes are nearly touching, gazes locked on each other. Steve pulls Warren close after that, hooks his good arm around him and it doesn't take long until they are at each other again, kissing gently, hands wandering, tongues touching.
_
Steve wakes up in the early hours of the next morning, Warren's back pressed against him. His breath is easy, he seems to be sleeping still. Steve buries his nose in his neck and breathes in. Out. In. Out. In - until he falls asleep again.
_
Ignoring each other at work and during the breaks becomes increasingly harder. Steve is getting itchy with the stress it puts onto him.
_
"The fuck did you do?", Warren slams his glas down. It doesn't break but Steve hears it shatter anyways. Of course they'd fight once again, once more. Maybe they never really stopped, maybe they were just on a break, an armistice.
He's talking about Michael and his associates kidnapping Mr. K.
"This is business, Warren. This has nothing to do with you."
"Are you completely nuts, Haines? She'll have your head for this, Daniels will kill you."
Steve looks at him and his gaze quickly turns into a stare. This is not about him, it never has been and it now dawns on him. He's not even yelling, his voice is firm and nearly a whisper.
"Me? Don't you dare act like you care about me when it comes to this. You're afraid what this will mean for you, aren't you? If they ever unveil that you fuck me, the one responsible for subject K gone missing? What will they think of you then, huh?"
Warren blinks. Once, twice. "Are you fucking deluded, Haines?"
Steve has missed how Warren beats and tears at his clothes and hurts so so so good. He relishes in the pain that 14 is exposing him to, until he can't hold back the gnarling animal in his chest anymore and lashes out as well, hits back and hits hits hits until they are covered in blood.
_
It hurts so good, his cuts and bruises hurt so good. Steve had missed this, missed the pain so much. Warren lies next to him, chest heaving, blood on his hands and his face, it's in his hair and on his legs as well. Steve wants to fuck him raw, until he screams and cries.
Steve wants to make Warren his, and only his. And he's ready to give himself up for it, too.
#listen i really should be working on a paper these days#but these fucked up agents are all that my brain can process rn#steve haines/agent 14#agent steve haines#steve haines#agent 14#gta v#gta online#gtao#my writing
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