this is the number for the national r*sidential school crisis line that has been set up for indigenous folks on turtle island . it can be accessed 24/7
if you have a couple of bucks to spare, consider throwing them to The Indian Residential School Survivor Society (IRSSS). they provide counseling and other forms of support to first nations people who are residential school survivors. this is a list of other charities that support first nations people, this list is a mix of charities and ways to learn more about first nation activism and history, and this is a link to a free online college course called Indigenous Canada
Idk if you’ve experienced some shit or not. But either way, your “Don’t Call Me Angel” fic had me weeping and made me feel so so seen. Obviously I don’t have wings and I didn’t go undercover in a sex trafficking ring and all of that. But the recovery process from sexual trauma like that was beautifully written and I appreciate you. So thanks for that.
And if you are writing from a place of experience, I’m very sorry and I wish you healing and whatever love you’re comfortable with.
🖤🖤🖤
Call Me Angel is one of my all time favourite pieces i’ve done! i’m happy i wrote them well and in a way that makes people feel seen and heard 🤎
Here’s a list of Black authors. Masterlists are linked when available. Please send me a dm/ask for other authors recommendation or feel free to add to this list. I’m going to tack this on to my masterlist! Check the original post for updates!
Edit: The reason why I started this list!
@marvelmaree - Masterlist
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@fluoresensitive - Book: On Sundays, She Picked Flowers
This is a work in progress! Please send an ask identifying that the author you’re recommending is of colour! Please search our list before nominating an author!
Y'all, this is the last chapter before the epilogue, how we feeling about it
Summary: Steve and the clan feel the consequences of YN’s complicated surgery and the birth of Charlie
“Uneven Odds”— Sleeping at Last / “Everything Changes”— Sara Bareilles / “The Story”— Sara Ramirez
Only Happy Accidents
_____________________________
Steve sat by the bed, staring. It’s all he could do, honestly. Charlie was asleep in the cradle a foot away (he slept with his mouth as far open as it could go— just like Steve did), and sleep was so far away he couldn’t even think about it. So, he stared.
YN was alive, but the tubes and wires connected to her body and going down her throat made her seem farther away than ever. Her hands were warm, sure, but she wasn’t breathing on her own, so what was the point, really.
Helen had found him crying over Charlie, and she’d sat down in the chair opposite him and told him that YN’s heart had stopped beating for a while during surgery— something about blood loss, and the lack of oxygen going to her brain for that extended period of time put her ability to wake up or even breathe on her own a slim possibility. Cho had taken him and Charlie down to YN’s room, and the tubes and wires were honest to god worse than the screaming and blood, because at least when she was in that amount of pain, his wife was still alive. Sovereign.
Steve had immediately asked if he could do something, and after getting his blood tested, found out he wasn’t a match for a blood transfusion— hoping that the enhancements in his blood would help YN heal. Even in all his super-enhanced glory, and with the enhancement created under the best of intentions, Steve still couldn’t save the people he loved the most— no matter what century it was, he couldn’t stop things like this from happening. So, Steve had cried like a damn baby as he held YN’s limp hand, begging and praying and compromising with the universe for her to wake up.
Charlie was the only thing stopping him from doing something dangerous— the cooing happy baby, unaware of the grief around him was a reminder for Steve that good things still existed. To think that Steve could ever hate something like this— something so good that he’d created made him sick to his stomach. When Steve wasn’t cradling the baby or hovering over the bassinet, he was at YN’s head, pushing the hair away from her face and glaring at the tubes and kissing her cheeks and knuckles.
Apparently, Bucky Barnes had taken enough pity on him after walking in on him crying for the fifth hour in a row and had pulled Helen aside, asking if he, possibly could get tested.
He was a match.
So, that’s how Busy Barnes found himself standing next to his godson and best friend, watching as his own blood— that created and given to him by such evil people for such evil purposes as it saved the lives of the people he cared most about in this world.
His best friend.
His godson.
YN Rogers, who had brought so much fullness to everyone she touched— she reminded him so much of Rebecca it tore his heart in half some times.
And he waited with the Rogers family, holding Charlie when Steve was too distraught to hold him, and leaning into Natasha when he needed the support she gave him. She was taking it hard, too. Not being able to have children herself, and then watching a wonderful, peaceful pregnancy turn into something so traumatic had shaken her to her bones. Her bravery in this made Bucky admire her more than he ever had, and the ring in his pocket burned a hole through his skin down to his bones as more days passed.
As soon as Helen had injected the blood, her stats had increased gradually— not the dramatic, gasping romantic event he’d half been expecting, but as the hours went on, YN’s cheeks grew flushed with just a little more colour.
The room remained quiet into the following day. The sun rose slowly on the anxious family, and Steve squinted as the sunlight shone directly in his face. He’d fallen asleep with Charlie sprawled on his chest in the armchair next to YN’s head, and someone had thrown a clean blanket over them, keeping them warm as Charlie was kept in a comfortable snooze agains this fathers heart beat. Steve’s hand cradled the kids bum as he rubbed his back lightly and leaned his head back, shutting his eyes and listening to the constant heart rate beeping from the monitor beside him. She was still alive— that was nice. At some point, Bucky had put Charlie in the basinet so Steve could fall forward onto the bed and just rest his eyes for a few seconds.
“Steve—” A raspy, chalky, but all too familiar piped up from beside him, and his eyes flashed open as he jolted, almost forgetting the newborn in his arms before hugging him closer and staring at the woman in the bed.
She didn’t look as if she was awake. Her body hadn’t shifted, and her eyes were still shut peacefully, but the breathing tube was nowhere to be found so either YN was dead and her ghost had come to haunt him or—
“YN?” He whispered, leaning towards the bed and staring hard, begging the Gods again to just stop playing with him.
“You’re yelling, you know.” She whispered back, cracking her eye open at him.
“How long have you—“ Steve whimpered, standing and leaning over her, tracing his eyes over her features— she looked good.
“A few minutes. You looked like shit so I figured you could use the beauty sleep.” She teased and he let out a sound halfway through a cry and laugh before he ducked down and kissed her breathless. He knew she felt just as relieved to have her eyes open by the speed of the heart monitor— it beeped quicker than it had today, and the thought of her alive and well and responding had tears wetting his cheeks.
“YN, baby. I thought you were— I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do if you didn’t—“ He choked out, tears falling onto her cheeks, which he kissed off quickly.
“Hey, don’t think about that, okay, baby? I’m alive and— wait, where is my baby?” She cut herself off, suddenly remembering that she was in fact a mother now. Steve smiled and kissed her nose once more, trailing his fingertips over her cheek and lips as he stood up. She kissed his fingertips and he flushed, pulling them away regretfully before turning around to the cradle and scooping a sleeping Charlie into his arms and walking over to his wife. He moved slowly, watching the adoration fill YN’s tired face as Charlie got closer.
Steve placed him on her chest, and her hand, delicate and hesitant rested on his back as if her touch would shatter him. Charlie stirred only slightly, burrowing his face into YN’s chest and wrapping his tiny fists into the fabric of YN’s hospital gown.
“This is our son, Charlie.” Steve whispered, throat tight with emotion as YN let out a dry sob. She ran her fingertips over his coned head lightly, the soft downy hair caressing her fingers.
“Charlie.” YN whispered, tears streaming down her face as she looked down at him. “He looks like you, Steve. And my dad, but there’s a lot of you in him.” She commented and he smiled, hand on her thigh as he stared at the scene in front of him. This— this is the only moment of his life he would ever want to remember. Somehow, despite how scared and angry he had been, everything— everything leading to this moment was worth it.
“I thought he looked like you. Wait until you see his eyes, baby.” Steve whispered, brushing the back of his knuckle across Charlie’s cheek.
YN looked up at him, eyes bright and shining and alive and she lips pulled into a tired smile. “Kiss me, Steve Rogers. Please, kiss me.”
And so he did. He sat on the bed next to her, and covered over his little, perfect family and kissed his perfect wife breathless.
“I love you, YN Rogers. I love you, I love you, I love you and thank you for surviving and coming back to me.” Steve whispered against her lips and she shuddered out a breath.
“Hey, you married me so you’re stuck with me for life, pal.” YN smiled, kissing him again rubbing her thumb across his cheekbone once she pulled away. He leaned into her touch, turning his face to litter her palm with kisses. The small family was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.
Steve loved Dr. Cho. He really truly did, and he had all the respect int he world for her, but could he just have an hour without seeing her wearing that stupid damn poker face. There was a polite greeting as she looked over YN’s charts, nodding and humming to herself before she clipped the board back on the bottom of the bed and looked at the Rogers.
“So, YN, we should likely discuss the surgery.” And with a small nod, Cho continued. Steve shifted to take YN’s hand as she wrapped her free arm around Charlie who made a tiny squeaking noise before smacking his lips and falling back to sleep.
“So, the surgery was extensive, and did not go without trouble. Your heart stopped for longer than any of us would have liked, and it is because of Mr. Barnes that you’ve recovered so well.” She started and YN looked at her confused.
“Pardon?”
“Mr. Barnes donated his blood— he was a match for donation, and the serum he had been enhanced with kickstarted your recovery. Without it it’s unlikely you would have woken up with full brain function if you woke up at all.” She said, grimly and YN looked up at Steve quickly, watching him purse his lips and nod.
“I tried, but we weren’t a match. I couldn’t save you, I’m sorry.” He whispered, coughing when his voice cracked. YN, shocked with the news clutched his hand harder and nodded, turning back to Cho.
“There’s something else, isn’t there.”
“Usually, the placenta carrying the child would be set up higher int he uterus and away from he cervix. However, your own was lower— closer to your cervix, and had adhered to the uterine wall too deeply for it to release properly. Usually, this complication would have been detected in scans, but it was such a microscopic abnormality that we missed it, and during your contractions, your placenta detached too quickly which caused the bleeding and damage.” She said, and YN fell back against the bed. She clutched Charlie closer to her as a comfort and the feeling of his little fists tightening reassured her slightly.
“So what happens now?” YN whispered, not wanting to look at Steve for fear of him looking disapointed in her.
“Well, there was so much damage to your uterus that the chances of you becoming pregnant again are low, and if you did the pregnancy would be incredibly high risk. If you’d decided to carry on with the pregnancy, you would likely have to have a cesarian, and depending on the placement of the placenta, the entire uterus would need to come out.” Cho said, trying her best to keep her poker face.
YN’s chin wobbled at the news and her eyes grew hot as she flicked them up to the room, glaring at the ceiling with everything she had in her. Why would this have happened? Was it because fo the snap? Was it just her body’s inability to deal with things like this?
Before he let YN fully pull away and retreat into herself, Steve squeezed her hand and called her name. On the third repetition of her name, she looked at Steve and the tears finally fell from he corners of her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” She whimpered. “I know you wanted a big family but—“
“You stop that right now,” he demanded, voice strong despite the sinking feeling in his heart. “This is not your fault, okay? And I’d rather have a healthy, alive wife and a healthy, loved, spoiled little boy than anything else, okay?” He ducked his head, trying to catch her eyes again. Her beautiful eyes looked up at him again and he cooed, wiping her tears away with his fingers. “And if we decide we want another baby, we can adopt. Maybe we can even get a pet first— cause, you know. That’s something that couples usually do before they get married anyways.” He joked and YN snorted, wiping her eyes and nodding.
“Maybe a plant.”
“Maybe even a plant.” He confirmed and smiled, kissing her nose and playing his hand on Charlie’s little bum.
“I would also like to take you out on a date for once. No baby. Just me and you.” He offered and YN smiled, blushing lightly.
“Yeah, we kinda skipped out on that bit too, huh?” She smiled, and neither Steve nor YN noticed Cho leaving, noticing that her company was no longer wanted in this moment.
“Like a movie and dinner, and I take you home and kiss you on the doorstep.”
“We live together, Steve.”
“It’s the thought that counts.” He defended.
“I want flowers.” She said. “And chocolates. I wanna be wooed.”
Steve sat back and laughed, hand resting over his heart as he looked at her so fondly. “I married you and gave you a baby and you still need to be wooed?”
“No, but I like the way you get flustered when you try to flirt with me.” She wrinkled her nose at him and he rolled his eyes.
“I do not get flustered.”
“Okay, you big ol’ beefcake DILF. I’ll believe it when I see it.” YN teased, giggling when a blush crept up his neck at the nickname.
“I am not a DILF.” He hissed, smile on his lips.
“You’re my DILF.”
_______________
Charlie had latched onto YN’s nipple immediately, and soon enough, the soreness in her breasts diminished exponentially. She sighed and leaned back into the many pillows Steve had brought her once they found out she’d be in this room for the next week and under Cho’s careful eye. It was the first time YN had alone with her son, and frankly, she couldn’t wait to watch this little guy grow up into someone she could love relentlessly.
He had her eyes. It was simple and plain as the sun— her eyes lived on in Charlie, and seeing the exact mirror of herself in this creation which had lived in her stomach for nine months was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Holding this squirming, cooing little angel in her arms as he fed on her was the most satisfying thing she’d ever felt. She felt productive and accomplished, and peaceful as she ran her fingers over his body. Down his head and cheeks and over his back and bum, poking at his chubby little thighs and counting his toes and fingers over and over again.
She was scared she wouldn’t feel a maternal surge take over her body once she met Charlie— it was a common thing, apparently. She’d learned about it in the birthing classes she and Steve had gone to, as well as the couples therapy they’d gone to, but it was a weight off her chest to feel this much love for her little guy.
There was a knock at the door, and YN looked up to see Bucky walk in and upon seeing her breastfeeding averted his eyes.
“I can come back later if you—“
“Bucky come in.” YN smiled, feeling an incredible warmth of appreciation flood her body at the sight of this man. This man who had given her chances upon chances and who had walked her down the aisle and saved her life— she wouldn’t have anyone else as her sons godfather.
Bucky nodded, and placed the small bouquet of sunflowers he had brought her on the bedside table and sat in the armchair that Steve had made his home in. His eyes never left Charlie, smiling at him and how well he was feeding.
“God, he’s a strong little guy huh?” He hummed and YN nodded, looking down at him and sighing.
“I didn’t think he’d be so small, though. I thought he’d be way bigger considering how big my stomach was.” YN hummed, almost missing the swell of her stomach. She’d shrunk well, but her skin was loose and soft— something she’d have to train down once more with the provided trainers Cho recommended.
“You did have a huge bump.” He laughed and YN pretended to be offended. There was a period of silence before Bucky spoke again.
“Did Cho tell you?” He whispered, looking down at his hands and YN nodded.
“Thank you, Bucky. I know you weren’t the biggest fan of me in the beginning, but that was a very wonderful thing you did.” She responded, feeling regret at her words. No matter how much she praised Bucky and thanked him, he would never know just how damn grateful she was. “You’ve done so much for me these past few months, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”
Bucky let a rush of air through his nose and he shook his head. “You take care of Charlie and Steve, and let them take care of you. That’s how you pay me back.” Bucky smiled a closed mouth smile and he went back to picking at his nails.
“What’s going on, Buck?” YN whispered, reaching towards him. He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again. “Buck, talk to me.”
“It’s just— I was enhanced with HYDRA’s serum. I was only allowed to save your with a serum hat killed so many people and caused so much pain and that’s not fair to you— you deserved so much more than—“
“James Buchanan Barnes you listen to me now and you listen closely.” She said, making her voice strong but remaining quiet as to not disrupt Charlie. “I don’t know how many people have told you this before, but I’m assuming you’ve heard it more than once. You are not the serum in your blood. You are not the things they made you do. You are the man in the stores Steve told me. You are the man who loves science, and space, and technology. You are a man who loves gun and knives and knows to treat them with respect. You are a man who is planning a proposal to the woman who he loves, and you are a man who carries the ring around waiting for the moment you feel she deserves. You are a man who watches. A man who looks out for the people in his life— for Steve, and Sam, and Natasha. You are the man who sacrifices himself for those he loves. That is the man I want to have as my child’s godfather because I believe that man is someone to look up to as a hero and an idol. James Barnes you are one of the most magnificent people I’ve ever had the true honour to meet.”
Bucky looked up, tears making his grey eyes shine, and he grabbed YN’s hand before pressing his head against it and letting out a sob. She let her hand glide through his hair, soothing him to the best of her ability as he cried into her mattress.
“You are worthy of the love you receive, James.” YN whispered and he nodded into the mattress, coughing out another sob before wiping his nose and eyes and looking at her with soft eyes.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” He whispered. “Thank you.”
“You’re my family now, it’s my job to tell you how everyone else feels.”
Bucky wiped his face again and sat back, sighing out a choppy breath. It was a while before his head shot up and stared hard at YN.
“How did you know I was planning that?” He asked, brows furrowed.
“Steve’s really bad at keeping secrets. You’re better off doing it sooner than later before he lets it slip to Nat.” YN shrugged, smiling as Bucky’s eyes widened and he shot up front he chair, rushing out of the room to find where Natasha and Steve had gone to, fearing that his best friend really was as ditzy as his wife claimed he was.
________________
July 13th
“We could so make it all the way down this ramp with me on the back of this wheelchair.” Steve joked as he pushed YN through the halls of the compound in her wheelchair, and YN threw her head back and laughed, slightly startling the baby in her arms.
“Steven Grant we will do no such thing with your child in my arms, do you understand.” YN scolded through her laughs and she could almost feel Steve’s smile behind her. Charlie had grown strong, and his eyes were brighter than ever as he stared up at his parents and listened to their happy sounds. He was swaddled tightly in a thin blanket, and was dressed in the softest light yellow onesie YN had ever felt. YN’s favourite part of the outfit Steve had chosen today, however, was the black and white beanie with cartoon zebras dancing around the rim of it. God, she’d done well.
“Yes ma’am.” He chortled, and the sliding doors opened in front of them, making YN gasp a large breath of fresh air. In this moment, she made a vow that she would spend more time outside. This past week of indoor solitude was enough to make her insane. She was excited to go home, though— the familiarity of her own home and the welcoming scents of her and Steve was something that made her eager to leave the compound.
Steve walked up to the range rover and scooped Charlie into his arms, stealing YN of her breath. It was an image she would never get over— the man of her dreams carrying their child and making Charlie look like the smaller thing in the whole wide world. Steve lifted Charlie up to his face and peppered light kisses all over his chubby cheeks, eliciting shrieking giggles from the child. Steve was the one to make Charlie laugh the most, and it made YN slightly jealous. Mostly happy, but what the heck? She carried the kid for nine months, why wasn’t she the favourite parent.
“Remember to have it tight! But not too tight because—“ YN watched as Steve put Charlie into the car seat, and he looked back at her, glaring slightly in amusement.
“I know how to strap the kid in, Sweetheart.” He chided and YN pursed her lips, watching Steve’s every move. Steve tucked Charlie into the seat with a blanket and pulled the carseat hood over him, encouraging the kid to take a nap in the car.
Steve shut the back door and turned to his wife, smiling down at her. Before she could move to stand herself, he curled his arms around her and scooping his arms around her as he lifted her bridal style. She squealed and cliched at him, making him laugh. He continued to hold her with one arm as he opened the passenger side door and placed her on the seat, cupping her face in his large hands and kissing her softly.
“How about we go home, huh?” He whispered against her lips and smiled and nodded, kissing him again slowly and tasting him. God, YN would never get over how damn lucky she got with him.
“I would very much love that. Can we stop at McDonalds though? I need to do something that Cho doesn’t approve of for once.”
______________
Later that same night, YN came out of the master bathroom wrapped in a towel to find the hottest thing she’d ever seen before.
Steve was sitting against the headboard shirtless, his slow even breaths telling her that he was asleep. His long eyelashes dusted over his cheeks, and his mouth was wide open, head lolling to the side. His wide shoulders were bare and the dark smattering of brown chest hair made YN’s mouth water. However, the hottest thing about this whole situation was the fact that Charlie was curled up on his chest, mouth open the same way and eyelashes mimicking his fathers. His ear was pressed flat against the left side of Steve’s chest, and had probably been lulled to sleep by the steady beat of Steve’s heart.
“Fuck.” YN cursed, dashing over to the best of her ability to grab her phone, taking several pictures for reasons. She threw her phone back on the bed and pulled on some underwear and a pad as well as one of Steve’s hoodies— the first time she’d actually managed to fit into one in months. It wasn’t long before she walked over to her boys, sitting next to Steve and using the long hair he’d grown from his eyes.
He hummed, furrowing his brows and closing him mouth, licking his lips and rolling his head to face YN. He opened his eyes slowly, and blinked in the light from the bedside table.
“Hey, beautiful.” She murmured and his cheeks darkened slightly.
“You stealin’ my lines now, Sugar?” He whispered, hands wrapping around Charlies body and hugging him tighter to his chest.
“They’re good lines.” She replied, wiggling her fingers around Charlie and scooping him to her chest. She stood slowly and bounced her way over to the cradle only two feet from Steve’s side of the bed. She lay him in gently and jumped slightly when Steve hands circled around her waist, hugging her to him as he rested his chin on her shoulder. The two stared down at this creation and swayed.
“What the hell do we do now?” He snorted and YN giggled, making him kiss her neck and cheek in pure happiness.
“I have no fucking idea.” She shook her head and reached up behind her, curling her hand into his hair and scratching his scalp almost making him purr in delight.
“How about we figure it out together, huh?” He replied and YN turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and standing on her tip toes to kiss his chin. He squeezed her upper ribs, careful of her incisions before guiding her to the bed and sitting her on it, cupping her face in his hands before bending over and capturing her lips in his in a heated kiss.
“We got time, don’t we.” YN mumbled against his mouth as she backed up on the bed, making room for him to crawl on her and cage her between his arms.
“We have so much time, baby. So much damn time to figure out anything we wanted.”
“You’re not tired of me yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Shithead.”
“Your favourite shithead.”
“Maybe so.”
___________________________
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since some of yall (mostly racist white people and c**ns) got upset with me the other day about supporting black fanfiction writers, i decided to explain to you all about why i said what i said.
i think i’m going to retire this blog as well as my personal one. while i’ve met amazing people and read and seen phenomenal creations, this website has become a reminder of a much angrier version of myself who changed to fit the mould of what someone else wanted. i think the reason why i’m still angry over past things is because i keep holding on to this app because it reminds me of a time where i thought i was safe, but looking back i cannot recognize the person i was.
if you have any questions, i’ll answer them tonight, but come tomorrow i’ll be gone. i love you all, thank you so much for two and a half years of support and i hope all the gods and goddesses smile down on you ✨💕
hiii! i just joined tumblr again and i was wondering if you could recommend some of your favourite blogs? :) have a lovely day!
yes ofc!!! i have so many its hard to list them all but ill list most of the ones i have saved in my person fic rec document! i always reblog fics and other content i love from everyone i see so consider scrolling through my feed or following me and youll see everything i love!
there are so many more blogs and people i love seeing on my feed but i follow and love so many i couldn’t possibly list them all without giving you 400+ blogs i follow across all my accounts. i hope this is what you were looking for!
and to everyone i tagged, thank you for being so awesome and inspiring me to write everything i write and for being some of the greatest minds on this platform :-) <3
Summary: Steeb is worried about his girl during the pandemic. we got a little angst! we got alot of fluff! goofy!domestic!steebie!!!
AN: This is bad!!! lol!
________________________
You’d never wanted to be a housewife. You’d always been driven and you’d always worked hard and even though you loved being home, it really wasn’t somewhere you had ever wanted to work.
And then the pandemic happened, and not only were the classes of your final university year been cancelled and put online, but you’s also been laid off from he two jobs you worked in between classes and studying and spending time with your boyfriend. You knew realistically, you didn’t need to worry about rent or anything— you boyfriend had enough money and generosity to sweep in and take care of you. Hell, he practically lived in your shoebox apartment in Manhattan anyways.
Didn’t mean that you were happy with the situation.
So, you spent your days cleaning, and watching Tiktoks and learning the dances, and once you’d learned them all, sat down and watched all of your comfort movies three times before deciding that your favourite hobby was putting your headphones in, sitting on your fire escape and staring.
Yeah, the house smelled like bleach and you weren’t doing well.
The days melded into one long continuous time period, only interrupted by going to bed once the pink of the sunrise shone over the buildings and when your boyfriend would come home once every few days. You understood— hell, he was one of the most iconic people in history, and despite retiring from combat, still had obligations to the public and to his team, the Avengers.
Steve Rogers was a grumpy hero of a man and you loved the hell out of him, and he you. However, you’d been distant lately, dealing with the changing world and the circumstances only exasperated by a government who didn’t lead and he understood that. The trauma you were dealing with was not unlike when he’d woken up from the ice. You and millions upon millions of people were being shut in and kept out of touch with each other and the world around you with the knowledge that you’d be let out of your home and released into a completely different world— one which you didn’t know how to live.
He saw the sag in your shoulders and how your eyes were unfocussed and how the corners of your lips were almost always turned down save for the few days where you could put on makeup and brush your hair and maybe even put on jeans to feel something. You’d made loaves and loaves of bread that he would bring to the compound and have to explain that he had a friend who had just made too much and left them on his doorstep. You had yet to tell the team— his whole life was exposed to them constantly, and save for his three best friends, nobody knew about the grumpy, domestic soft couple that was Steve Rogers and YN YLN. Bucky, Sam and Natasha would make frequent stops and while it took a while for them to accept you, they eventually did (once they realized that you refused to let Steve pay for anything or post anything about him).
So, he walked down the hall and fiddled with the keys in his hand nervously— not knowing which mood he’d have to be dealing with today but willing to give you any form of comfort you needed today. Being immune to the virus was a blessing, he knew— he could still work and the compound had been locked down since late February, all staff who wished to stay did, and those who did not, returned to their homes with the promise of a job waiting for them when things finished.
He twisted the key into the apartment of your door and was met with the sweet and sharp smell of lemon clorox. You’d been cleaning, obviously. Every surface was sterile— free of dust and any other blemishes. The floors were swept and mopped, and the windows were open, letting in the sounds of New York flow through the place he’d begun to call home. Walking into the kitchenette, he noticed that your sourdough starter had been moved, and that there was even a few new jars of pickles, onions and asparagus being fermented or pickled or whatever the new Quarantine Trend was.
“Princess?” He called, placing his keys on the counter and pulling off his jacket to throw over the back of the chairs pushed into the small kitchen table you two never ate at. Instead, he cocked his head at the thousand piece puzzle you both worked on when you had the patience, picking up a piece, squinting and placing it in its spot. He hunched over the table, not willing to commit and sit down, but stared at the picture hard, fingering through the pieces int he box and sighing though his nose.
“Fucking cats.” He cursed, frowning when he couldn’t find a spot to put the piece in between his fingers. You’d both done all the easy parts, and now it was trying to discern the blurry spots in the background and the melding of colours on the kittens tummy.
He jumped slightly when he felt your hands on his hips, wrapping around his torso and curling up over his chest, resting over his stuttering heart.
“Hi, Sweetheart.” He crooned, dropping the items in his hands and turning in your arms. He pulled you tight to his chest and rested his cheek on your wet, fresh smelling hair. Your t-shirt and leggings were slightly damp, you having just thrown on anything in a rush to see your guy.
“Hey, Stevie.” You mumbled into his shoulder and he nudged you until you lifted your head. When you did, his eyes roved your moisturized skin and the appearing freckles you were getting over your face from you time on the fire escape and in the sun. It was colder today, and he pulled you closer when you shivered at a particularly cold breeze that made the light curtains flap into your living room.
“You look fresh today. How’re you?” He asked, dipping his head and pressing his forehead to yours, noses brushing against each other. It was moments like these that he loved more than most. He could feel you shrug in his arms.
“You know.” You said offhandedly. “Life.” You’d long passed the point of explaining your feelings about everything to him— not wanting to rehash the same feelings of anger and fear and grief over and over again. He nodded and tilted his chin, pressing his soft lips against your own and sighing. His hand caressed your cheek and his thumb wiped your cheekbone as he kissed you slowly. The warmth that filled you at his tender touches was not unlike sun-warmed honey, filling every corner of your body. He pulled away too soon, and you chased his lips with your own, giving him one last slow kiss before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and brushing the hair from out of his eyes. Sure, he may be an avenger, but not one single person in that building knew how to cut hair.
Not that you were complaining.
“I know.” He whispered, wishing with every fibre of his being that he could do just one thing that would ease the weight off of your shoulders.
“How was work?” You asked, pulling away to push the jars and bottles back against the wall of the counter, opening some lids before fastening them once more, not wanting any of the mason glasses to explode. He didn’t miss the way you would avoid his eyes when he talked about the outside world, or the monotonous tone you used when you asked the question.
“It was alright. Clint’s gone out to the country side to wait everything out with Laura and the kids. Tony’s gone too.” He said, opening the fridge to pull out the orange juice. “So all that’s left of the team is me, Nat, Sammy, Buck and Wanda. Also Peter brought this aunt to the compound, he wanted to get her out of the city and away from everything.” He hashed out and raised the carton to his lips, managing only two gulps before you slapped his arm and shoved a glass in his face.
“You’re an animal.” You joked half heartedly and he snorted, taking the glass. “So, May is living at the compound?” You asked, discreetly moving to the freezer and digging around for what you would want for supper.
“She is.” Steve confirmed, cocking his head and watching you nod your head.
“And Tony let her?”
“Well, she’s doing the two weeks of quarantine in her room which is on the opposite side of the guest floor. She basically has the whole floor to herself though.” He shrugged, lifting his chin and watching you react, just as the pieces were starting to click.
You hummed.
“You’d stay with me though.” He said over the lips of the glass in his hand. Your eyes shot to him and a blush dusted your cheeks slightly at being caught.
“Pardon?”
“I still have a room there, and I share my floor with Buck. Who is also immune to the virus, so you wouldn’t be stuck in the bedroom. You’d have a small gym, and a few balconies and a kitchen probably three times this size.” He said, nonchalantly. A smirk slowly spread across his face as he watched you look up at him from through your lashes before shaking your head and pushing him to the side so you could get some canned veggies from the pantry.
“You’d also have fresh food. That you wouldn’t have to go out and buy. You wouldn’t have to worry about running out of pasta, or canned food. You wouldn’t have to be in survival mode.” He crooned, coming up behind you and moving your hair to the side so he could pepper kisses over your shoulder and neck.
“We even have hand sanitizer and toilet paper.” He joked and you finally cracked, throwing your head back and laughing. You turned around and squeaked slightly when he picked you up and sat you on the counter. He shoved your legs open and wiggled his way in, resting his large hands against your hips.
“YN?” He ducked his head so you’d look at him. When you did, he offered you a small smile. “Wanna move in with me?” He whispered and you turned red. Sure, he’s been staying at your apartment a few nights a week, and sure, you’d been dating for a year, but because you were you, you’d always had a little twinge of doubt in your mind about whether or not he was being serious. Hell, you hadn’t even met everyone in his life yet- you’d never stepped foot in the compound for heavens sake.
“I don’t wanna be a bug, though.” You mumbled and he huffed before holding your face in his hands.
“You could never.” He affirmed, kissing your nose quickly and staring you down. “Buck loves you, and Nat adores you and Sam wants to be your best friend. You’re alone in this small ass apartment and I can’t help but worry about you. At least I have my people. You just got me and FaceTime with your family and my love, that’s not enough. I know it’s driving you insane.” He whispered and wiped the tears that welled in your eyes quickly.
“I don’t want to be in your way, or somehow make you associate me with work and then fall out of love with me and I know it’s stupid you don’t have to look at me like that. Plus, they’re starting to lift restrictions so—“
“You and I both know things are going to get worse before they get better.” He scorned and he tilted your face to look up at him. He pressed closer to you and you looped your fingers though the loops of his belt. He gave you a quick, open mouthed kiss before pouting his bottom lip.
“Please move in with me. I want you there. I want you out of the city and in my king sized bed and making a mess out of my balcony with your plants and gardens and I want to have movie nights with you and Buck and I want your stupid little Fermentation Station taking up Hal my counter. Please, baby girl. Come home with me.” He pouted, giving you his full puppy-dog eyes. You groaned, thumping your head against his hard shoulder.
“A king sized bed would be way better than that double bed.”
“The sheets are made out of such thin silk hey don’t even have a thread count.” He murmured and you groaned.
“I bet the pillows are those temperature regulating ones.” You hummed and he nodded, biting his lip.
“Fluffiest things you’ll ever rest your head on.” He kissed your neck and you giggled. “Wait until you see how thin the TV is.” He joked, and you played along, moaning.
“You don’t even watch TV on your laptop?” You gasped breathily. He nodded, biting his lip and your hand curled in the hair loosely at the base of his neck.
“How big?” You whispered and he leaned in, brushing his lips over yours as he spoke.
“82 inches. Surround sound.” He whispered, leaning down to pepper kisses over your throat.
“Oh, Lord take me now.” You yelled, throwing your hands into the air, making him laugh. He smiled down at you— you with new, bright eyes and an easy smile on your face from he idea of getting out of this small apartment and into Steve’s home.
“Seriously, come home with me. I can get a van and some people to get your things tomorrow if you want to pack a bag tonight.” He asked, his expression turning slightly nervous at your silence.
“I can pay for groceries—“
“I don’t even know where they come from. One day the fridge is empty the next day it’s full. I don’t pay for it and neither does Bucky.” He shrugged. “Seriously. Come on. I’m sure Bruce or Tony even have a job you could do if you get too bored.”
You perked up at the idea of working again and he rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t make it in the 40’d you know.” He joked. “You work too hard.”
“Bite me, Rogers!” You pushed him away from you, jumping off the counter and leaving the kitchen.
“Don’t tempt me!” He shouted back and you laughed, walking across the room to where you’d planted your dresser. You grabbed a bag from under your bed (which was also in the living room) and began throwing clothes into it.
“You can bite me all you want when I’m stuck in your room for two weeks.” You joked, throwing a wink over your shoulder and making him groan under his breath. The idea fo you in his silk sheets, marked up and nowhere to go was a very welcome image he was almost 100% promised.
“You’re a minx.”
“And I’m your new roommate too!” You chirped and Steve, for once, welcomed the blush that crept up his neck and onto his face. Maybe, there was a silver lining to all this COVID bullshit.
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (Renaissance Faire Au!)
Warnings: Nothin’
Word Count: 3300+
Summary: Going to a Renaissance Faire wasn’t what she had planned to do over the weekend, but a drunken promise between friends can’t be broken. Full of magic and festivities, she never thought she would enjoy the fair as much as she did. Nor did she ever dream she’d catch the eye of not one, but two gorgeous Knights of the Queen. Bestowed with their tokens of affection, she found herself swept into their arms for a weekend she’d never forget. She was under no illusion, there was no chance this could ever be more than a fantasy at the fair. They would move on, and so would she. It didn’t mean she wasn’t going to enjoy this while she could. (18+ Only Story)
A/N: The first part to I don’t know how many parts!!! I have this whole story planned, fortunately, but as you can tell from the very first chapters word count, it’s gonna be another long one lol. I’m super excited about this story! I hope you all enjoy, please please please reblog and comment! Thank you and enjoy!!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 *Coming Soon* | Series Masterlist
“Oh come on!”
Y/N rolled her eyes at the whine from her couch and ignored her friend. She leaned closer to her computer and tried to focus on the editing at hand. She needed to get these pictures finished so she could send them to the publisher for print. She didn’t have time for Coby’s whining.
“Pleaassseeeee?” Coby threw her head back against the pillows and let out her loudest and most obnoxious whine ever.
alexa google how to deal with toxic people in my life
omg boy do I have experience
u are hopefully quarantining well, and staying at home, so you know what that means— every friendship is a long distance one
u can mute people on Instagram, and i put my profile on private and if you do that you can remove followers. They will not be notified.
On Twitter you can mute people. They do not get a notification. You can still visit their profile on both Instagram and Twitter after they’re muted and removed, and you WILL want to check their account. You can do so, but make a serious effort to not do The Thing
If they’re a tumblr friend if you go into your settings you can turn off the little green light that tells people ur online! Also break the mutual! And delete any conversation!
I deleted my Snapchat
I muted my Toxic People on my phone, and turned off the notification badge to the app, so if they text I see it on my own accord.
Do not text them! Do not contact them! Eventually the relationship will wilt and YOULL go ur own ways! When things get back to normal, maybe you’ll have both done some healing and you’ll have set up mental boundaries (or in my case brick walls) and they’ll effect you less and less.
If they live with you call me I’ll cough on them and then punt them into the fucking sun
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