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bangarangdarling · 11 months

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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go.

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe.

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling.

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo.

It was the proverbial straw.

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing.

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead.

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range.

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Geez, need attention much?”

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?”

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.”

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea.

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all.

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,”

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude.

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly.

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up.

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified. “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come here?”

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm.

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs. “Dude, what the hell?”

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?”

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth.

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?”

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking.

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.”

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move.

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,” Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them.

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!”

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.”

“You guys, let’s just go already,”

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,”

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together.

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man.

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in.

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.”

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that.

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!”

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly.

#Listen this is cheesy and poorly written but i HAD to #go find that tik tok because it was hilarious but also radiated love and healthy parenting #they called it 'gentle parenting with malicious intent' looooool #steddie #the party #my brain vomit

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bleedingoptimism · 5 months

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Eddie was ugly when he was a kid. Ugly with a capital U. And not like, his peers said he was, so he thought he was ugly, but he really wasn’t, no. He was UGLY. Big bottomless eyes, a big round nose, big mouth, full lips, small face, and with his head shaved even his ears looked too big. Plus he was thin and long-limbed... He looked like a bug! He was U-G-L-Y

But it’s okay. It’s just a universal truth and not a problem anymore because he grew up. And he grew into the too-big features that made him look bad. Now they are part of his charm. He grew up and he looks good now, and he knows it. His big dark eyes, his round nose, and his plump lips are attractive features now.

The thing is, it didn’t bother him then, and it doesn’t bother him now. It’s an inconsequential matter, laughable really. So why is he wrestling Steve Harrington in his living room to stop him from looking at the photo he found while cleaning up Wayne’s trailer? Who knows, maybe, and just maybe he doesn’t want to hear Steve call him ugly. Maybe he’s vain like that. Maybe he doesn’t want the most beautiful boy he’s ever met to think he’s ugly. Maybe he doesn’t need confirmation that Steve will never notice him like that because he’s so out of his league they are not even playing the same sport. Not that Eddie knows anything about sports. Whatever.

Steve had come over to help him move out. He is moving in with Jeff to a tiny place that’s closer to college and Eddie had wanted to surprise Wayne by giving him back his room and leaving it spotless and fit for a grown man. And Steve had kindly offered to help when he’d told him about it.

They were just finishing up boxing some books when a photo fell out of an old copy of Moby Dick. Why was it there in the first place?! Eddie’s eyes had gone wide when he saw it was a ridiculous photo of him, standing straight and with a huge smile on his face hanging on to a pass-me-down backpack on his first day of school. He’d dived to the floor to try and grab it but when Steve saw he didn’t want him to see what it was…

Steve wanted to know what it was now, obviously.

He took the photo and ran back to the living room, screaming and laughing with Eddie close behind as he screamed bloody murder and jumped on top of him, clinging to his back. Steve stopped just long enough not to let him fall but then started running again trying to shake him off. Eddie let himself fall off Steve and grabbed him by the waist, pulling him close to him to try to grab the photo that Steve, giggling uncontrollably, was keeping at arm's length.

Eventually, when their lungs couldn’t get enough air, they stopped struggling and sighed in unison, which prompted another laughing fit. And then, Steve looked at the photo, with Eddie still holding onto him from behind, looking over his shoulder.

When he saw the picture again Eddie flinched waiting for Steve’s laugh. And laugh he did but not meanly, instead he said,

“Oh my god, Eddie you were so cute!”

“Shut up. No, I wasn’t” he answered with a scoff. Then, and just then, he noticed the position they were in. How close he was standing to Steve. He swallowed loudly and looked at Steve, to see if he noticed too, to see if he’d pull away.

But Steve was smiling at the photo, biting his lip and letting little giggles escape from time to time, “You were!” he insists.

Eddie laughs, “Dude, stop I was not. You don’t have to mean about it” starting to get a little annoyed but Steve shakes his head looking way too sincere.

“You are not serious,” Eddie frowns searching his eyes which are still looking at the picture, “Look at my tiny face and the ears!” He says exasperated.

Steve chuckles again, “I know, they are huge! And the eyes! Oh my god- You looked like a bug Eddie-!” he laughs, and yep. There it is. Eddie thinks bitterly- “You were so pretty!” Steve exclaims actually cooing at him.

And wait-

“You are ridiculous” Eddie laughs and Steve finally turns to look at him and notices how close they are. He blushes furiously and Eddie is so close to his face that he can feel the heat on his cheeks now. Eddie removes his hands from Steve’s waist so he doesn’t feel trapped by him, but moves his face a fraction closer and smirks flirtingly at him, “Were?” he asks.

Steve blinks at him and Eddie can feel his eyes moving across his face as if it were a caress. He looks at his eyes, his nose, his jaw, his lips, he swallows and his eyelids fall a little before he looks back up at Eddie’s eyes and smiles shyly before he says, “Are. You are pretty.” and Eddie closes the distance between them.

💋

a drink? ☕🥐💕

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something #i know eddie knows he's handsome and acts acordingly #and he loves flattery #he gets a kick out of getting compliments from his crush i just know it

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theemporium · 7 months

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Eddie Munson wasn’t the most romantic guy, but he tried his hardest.

His feelings for you were overwhelming in the best way possible. He was loud and eccentric and a little too much for most people, but then again, you weren’t like most people. Wayne had always joked that it was a shock Eddie managed to snag someone like you. You always liked to joke back that Eddie was scaring everyone else off until you came along.

But truth be told, he agreed with Wayne.

He wasn’t sure how he managed to get someone like you to love him, but you did. You loved him with your whole heart. You took one look at him and saw the real Eddie. You didn’t see some third year senior, or some freak obsessed with a fantasy game. You didn’t see a weird metalhead, or some kid with no future.

You saw Eddie. You saw a glimpse of him and you wanted to see more. You wanted to see more so you could love more, and it made his chest feel funny the way you decided to stick around even after seeing the person behind the mask.

And sometimes, Eddie envied how easily the relationship seemed to come to you. You would always surprise him, sometimes with dinner from his favourite or a bouquet of flowers or a tape you knew he had been wanting. You always knew when he wanted to be held or the words he needed to hear to cheer him up a little. You always knew how to make him feel special, like it was a basic instinct for you.

Meanwhile, Eddie was left second guessing himself because the last thing he wanted was to scare you away. He loved you. He loved you so much, it hurt. He loved you so much and he just wanted to show that. Hence, the picnic date.

He had gone all out, having spoken to Robin and Steve countless times over the last week to set up the perfect date setting. He cleaned out the back of his van to make it the perfect fortress of blankets and pillows. He had packed your favourite foods and even splashed some money on the slightly more expensive beer that was easier to get down.

It was the perfect set up for a romantic date, but the funny thing about Eddie Munson was that he wasn’t really a romantic kinda guy. And that was something you adored about him.

You didn’t want cheesy dates and corny lines that made you borderline feel like you wanted to empty your stomach. You didn’t want over-the-top date nights or meticulously planned outings. You didn’t want expensive beers and fancy chocolate-covered strawberries that cost three times the amount they should.

You wanted Eddie.

You wanted your Eddie.

You wanted your Eddie who made you feel good in a million different ways that no other man could ever compare to.

“Eddie,” you let out a soft, high-pitched squeal as your head fell back against the thick blanket beneath you. “Shit, I—”

“This,” he groaned, low and rough and gravelly. It made your stomach dip. His hands gripped the meat of your thighs, keeping them spread open as he leaned down to lick a thick strip along your cunt. “This is better than any fucking dessert.”

“Eddie,” you whined, your hands gripping the fabric of your pretty sundress in tight fists as he began shamelessly licking the mess you had made all over your thighs.

And you really shouldn’t have been surprised.

Eddie was a simple man when it came to you. Anything you did, the boy obsessed over because you did it and he was obsessed with you. So, his brain practically short-circuited when you came running out your house, dressed in a pretty floral dress that brushed against your thighs and had two thin straps holding it up. He about lost the ability to speak when you leaned over to kiss his cheek in a greeting, giving him the perfect view of your tits. But his downfall was when you climbed into the back of his van, giving him the perfect glimpse of the white cotton panties you were wearing that made it difficult to care about eating anything but you.

He lasted all of twenty minutes before he broke, watching a little dribble of strawberry juice drip down your chin that had him leaning over, licking up the mess before crawling over your body completely. You had breathed out his name, breathless and a little dazed when you saw the heated look in his eyes, the look that told you he wanted to devour you and that was exactly what you let him do.

But now you were two orgasms in, your body was wracked with pleasure and the boy didn’t look like he had any plans of stopping soon.

“‘s too much,” you cried out as he pushed your thighs up, almost bending you in half with your knees pushing against your chest so you were completely spread out and exposed for him. “Please, I can’t—”

“One more,” he groaned against your cunt, his nose nudging your swollen clit because he liked the way your body jerked in response. “Need you to come on my fingers, honey. Then I’ll stop, okay? Just one more, that’s all I want.”

“Mhmm,” you whimpered, all high-pitched and whiny but your obedience made him grin.

And he did intend to only make you come one more time for him. He intended to give you a break. He did. He really, really did.

But then he was knuckle deep inside you, the wet and debauched sounds of your soaking pussy echoing through the back of his van as you squirmed and moaned and screamed out his name until your throat was raw. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your thighs were shaking in his hold and you were babbling incoherently, so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t have time to warn him that something felt different, that there was a twist deep in your guts that didn’t feel familiar.

Eddie could’ve came in his pants from the sight alone.

It almost felt never-ending. His fingers were pumping in and out of you, already soaked to the wrist with your arousal before you were squirting everywhere. You were shaking beneath him, mouth parted with silent screams as you soaked everything around you. As you shook and moaned and came harder than you ever had in your life. As you did something he only thought was possible in fucking pornos.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment when your brain seemed to catch up with your body, blinking a few times as the realisation hit you like a freight truck. Your eyes instantly teared up, your hands desperately trying to pull the soaking material of your sundress over your body to cover yourself up like it would give you some dignity.

You opened your mouth. “Eddie, I’m so—”

“Did I say you could cover up?”

You blinked, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

He slapped your hands away, not allowing you to pull your skirt over your pussy. “I said,” he repeated, his voice lower this time as his darkened gaze caught yours. “Did I say you could cover up?”

You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. “No, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and the hot tears of embarrassment were quickly replaced with the warmth of his praises. “Now, lay back down and keep your legs open.”

“Eddie—” you started again, your stomach dipping when you noticed the mess you made. Not only were you soaked, but so was he. His clothes now stained darker, along with the blanket beneath you but he didn’t seem to care.

“Shhh,” he hummed as his hands rubbed up and down your thighs, completely uncaring of your arousal leaking and dripping down your thighs. “Only wanna hear your pretty moans, honey. Wanna hear how good it feels.”

“It?” You questioned breathlessly.

His grin was vindictive, almost sinister. “Wanna see you do it again f’me, baby.”

Your eyes widened. “But—”

“Nuh uh, what did I say?” He chastised softly, gripping your thighs until a soft whimper left your lips. “Now, either you let me hear those needy noises or I stuff something in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now, open those legs and let me see my pretty girl.”

#cece's smutober #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

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andvys · 2 months

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through.

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it.

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you.

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room.

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features.

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him.

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back.

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you.

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you.

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.”

Steve nodded.

He too was still in disbelief.

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you.

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you.

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won.

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces.

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little.

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.”

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her.

“Huh? Who jumped first?”

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name.

You were the first to jump.

You were the one to go after him first.

You wanted to save him.

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him?

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would.

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second.

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second.

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you.

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms.

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it.

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you.

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are.

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once.

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about.

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day.

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state.

But he had never seen you like this before.

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form.

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you.

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!”

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say.

“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.”

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now.

How did you feel last night?

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.”

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you.

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest.

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again.

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you.

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you.

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up.

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.”

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod.

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces.

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before.

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning

You hesitate.

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks.

He runs his fingers through his hair.

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.”

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night.

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent.

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage?

You carry guilt, just like he does.

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other.

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words.

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you.

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped.

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.”

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room.

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box.

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words.

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.”

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you.

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..”

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table.

Polaroid Pictures.

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy.

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985.

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one.

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen.

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.”

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand.

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile.

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding.

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.”

“Had?”

You nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy.

Oh no.

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.”

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes.

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before.

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.”

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school.

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost.

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need.

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity.

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.”

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you.

“I let some see.”

Right. Some.

He nods and looks away.

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham.

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling.

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy.

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him.

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted.

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend.

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before.

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one.

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with.

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time.

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984.

You were friends with Billy Hargrove?

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him.

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture.

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before.

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face.

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content.

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were.

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them.

Were you and Billy dating?

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car.

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you.

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it.

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets.

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question.

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him.

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.”

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy and that for some reason, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips.

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches.

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother.

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.”

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears.

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship.

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble.

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him.

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you.

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head.

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over.

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her.

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about.

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again.

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did.

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again.

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life.

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about.

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you.

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will.

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye.

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday.

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did.

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.”

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way.

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname.

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing.

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day.

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now.

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers.

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile.

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead.

“Are we.. good?”

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes.

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply.

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week.

Oh.

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows.

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.”

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting.

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding.

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.”

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you.

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again.

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second.

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again.

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie.

You blink, looking between them, back and forth.

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes.

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes.

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything.

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max.

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.”

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room.

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles.

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh.

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up.

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box.

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy.

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly.

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock.

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.”

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little.

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain.

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke.

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too.

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds.

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.”

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning.

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either.

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more.

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar.

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need.

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat.

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them.

You won’t have to live without them.

They will be more than just a short time.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

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a-little-unsteddie · 1 year

Text

Steve had known it was a bad idea from the beginning.

Dustin had come barreling in to Family Video, dragging a disgruntled Eddie Munson behind him, begging him to host Hellfire because the school was hosting some christmas fundraiser and didn’t want the Dungeons and Dragons club interfering with the event.

“Steve,” Dustin cried, eyes wide, lip jutting out, “please let us have Hellfire in your house.”

Steve stared at Dustin, unimpressed. He had one eyebrow raised, with his hands on his hips. “Why can’t you have it at one of the other members’ houses? Y’know, as they’re in the club. I’m sure one of them can play host for your dumb little game.” He argued, ignoring Munson behind Dustin. Well, trying to. The Dungeon Master looked wildly uncomfortable to be there, glaring directly behind Steve in defiance.

“Because, none of their houses are big enough for all of us,” Dustin explained, leaning over the counter. Steve scrunched his nose up at the action, gently pushing him back a few inches. Robin was standing next to him, looking amused, gaze flickering back and fourth while watching the scene unfold. Traitor.

“Right, so why can’t you just postpone the game then?” Steve asked, sighing. He grabbed a few tapes from the returns bin, walking around the counter to actually do his job.

At that question, Eddie finally spoke, “We can’t just postpone the session, that’d be stupid. I told you he wouldn’t do it, Henderson.” Steve paused, cursing himself for being affected by the tone that Eddie had taken on. He knew that tone, that was a ‘why would King Steve do anything to help others’ tone, or worse a tone that implied he didn’t believe Steve was actually friends — or whatever — with Henderson.

Steve turned around slowly, white knuckling a tape in his right hand by his side. He saw Dustin deflating, before seeing him puff up, getting ready to defend Steve.

“He always does this,” Dustin explained, “acts like he’s not gonna give in when he’s totally going to give in.” Steve watched as Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes in disbelief, opening his mouth to make some scathing remark. Steve narrowed his eyes, absolutely not.

“Right, because you—”

Steve cut Eddie off, turning around so he wouldn’t have to face Dustin as he finally gave in. “Fine,” he sighed, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. He heard something fall, but refused to turn to see what it was before he continued. “You can have your Dorks and Demons meeting at my house.” Robin snorted from behind the counter, meeting Steve’s glare with an amused grin.

“Yes! Told you, Eddie! Thank you—” Dustin began, but Steve cut him off.

“You’re cleaning up after, and you’re all gone by 9 P.M.,” Steve said, turning to face Dustin. The freshman grinned at Steve toothily, not fading even as he took in Steve’s stern look.

“Absolutely!” Dustin agreed, bobbing his head in agreement rapidly. He turned to Eddie, who looked surprised. Dustin either didnt see, or didn’t care, as he continued babbling away to Eddie as he dragged him out of the shop as quickly as they came in. Steve felt a knot at the pit of his stomach forming, twisting uncomfortably as he took deep breaths to try and soothe it.

“That was nice,” Robin commented, leaning on the counter with her chin resting on the palm of her hand. Steve schooled his expression to be one of nonchalance before turning to face her.

“Well, someone’s gotta do it. I guess,” he sighed, returning the final movie finally before making his way behind the counter. Once securely next to Robin, he looked at her with wide eyes. “Eddie Munson hates me and this is a terrible idea. Will you be there? Please?” He asked, pouting at his best friend.

“I’m sorry, dingus. Family dinner tonight, otherwise I would,” Robin said, looking apologetically at Steve. While she didn’t want to go, she also knew how bad Steve’s anxiety had gotten over the last few months after Starcourt. Steve groaned, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

“It’s fine, I know how your family is,” he sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

“Call if anything happens, though,” Robin said, nudging Steve’s side.

—

Steve knew it was a bad idea when at 3:30pm, Dustin knocked on his door with the rest of Hellfire standing behind him. Still, Steve wanted them to have a good time and made sure he had a variety of drinks and snacks available. He had taken the dining room table and moved it to the living room, so that way they would have more space.

“Hey, Steve!” Dustin greeted, barreling past him. Steve rolled his eyes fondly, a small smile gracing his face as he watched the curly haired boy run past, quickly followed by Lucas and Mike.

“Hey, losers,” Steve greeted the kids, “your favorites are already at the table, help yourself.” He called out to them, before turning to face the older members of Hellfire. They all looked vaguely uncomfortable, if not a little upset to be there. Steve felt his stomach twist again, clearing his throat to dislodge the anxiety a bit.

“Welcome, feel free to help yourselves to the kitchen. Snacks are on the island and drinks are in the fridge. Grab whatever,” he explained, opening the door wide enough to let everyone in. They all looked between each other before walking into the house. Steve let out a weary sigh once he shut the door, making his way after them.

Once everyone had taken their spots around the table, Steve noticed only the kids had the snacks still. He hesitated for a moment before awkwardly making his way to the table of nerds. Immediately, everyone’s eyes were on him, the kids with curious looks and the older boys with suspicion and confusion.

“Uh, there’s Coke, Sprite, Mt. Dew, Dr. Pepper and Strawberry Soda in the kitchen. Anyone want anything?” Steve asked tentatively, glancing at each of the older Hellfire members.

Gareth scoffed, rolling his eyes. “We don’t need your drinks, Harrington.” The name was spoken with vitriol, leaving a sour taste in Steve’s mouth. “Figures you’d try to buy us.” Dustin and Lucas frowned at the words, while the others laughed. Mike stayed silent, looking a bit amused, but still unsure if he should laugh. Steve swallowed thickly, leaving the room.

“Now that he’s gone, we can get started,” Eddie said, clapping his hands together. The kids were easily distracted by the words, their discomfort quickly leaving to be replaced with anticipation over the start of a new campaign.

For the next few hours, Steve stuck to the dining room, listening to the campaign. He had to admit, it sounded pretty interesting. Eddie had called it ‘the Cult of Vecna’, which seemed to get everyone pumped for the rest of the game. He would occasionally try to offer drinks or snacks, only to be rebuked every time. He eventually decided to just silently deliver Dustin, Lucas and Mike’s refills, before leaving quickly again to avoid the scathing remarks from the older members. After the first few times, even Mike had gotten uncomfortable with the remarks. It seemed to drain the kids energy, watching Steve get belittled at every turn.

“We can get our own drinks.”

“No, Harrington. We don’t want your damn snacks.”

The last comment he got before giving up entirely was one that hurt him the most, he thought.

“We’re not going to steal anything, you can stop hovering.”

So he stopped trying, sticking to the kitchen or dining area.

Around six thirty in the evening, Steve made everyone sandwiches. Dustin had told him about Jeff being a vegetarian and made sure there were options for him as well. He hesitated for a moment, staring at the table with apprehension. Unfortunately for him, he hesitated long enough for Dustin to notice him hovering again.

“Steve made sandwiches!” Dustin said excitedly. Lucas and Mike perked right up, turning to face the babysitter. Steve flushed, shrugging helplessly.

“It’s dinner time and I’ve only seen the kids eating, so I made sandwiches,” he said quietly, avoiding the gazes of the older members. He focused on Dustin, who grinned toothily at him, making grabby hands. Steve snorted at it, walking forward and placing the tray of sandwiches on the table, purposely standing between Lucas and Mike to not have to stand near the older members.

“Uh, these ones are vegetarian,” he said, placing the second plate down near Jeff. Jeff looked at him surprised before grabbing one of the sandwiches. Frankie groaned, rolling his eyes at Steve.

“What are we? Twelve? We can take care of ourselves, Harrington.”

Jeff hesitated for a moment, but still grabbed the sandwiches Steve had made specifically for him. Gareth looked vaguely uncomfortable, while Frankie just openly glared at Steve.

“We didn’t ask for these,” Eddie said, tone sharp. “Leave us alone, man. Don’t need to bullshit with us.”

Steve felt his stomach drop and tensed at the words that Eddie spoke, tears immediately filling his eyes. He turned abruptly and walked towards the front door, slamming it behind him as the tears began to fall.

Yeah, Steve knew it was a bad idea to let Dustin convince him to host Hellfire.

The table stared after him in shock, flinching at the door slamming. Dustin turned to face the older members, eyes fiery with rage.

“What the fuck was that?”

———

listen i just wanted to write unresolved angst. not my best work honestly, but i still like it. not beta’d because why would i. i doubt i’ll continue this, because it’s just intended to be Sad.

#i just had the idea of the hellfire club being assholes to steve #while steve is just trying his best to be a good host #unresolved angst #hurt/no comfort #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #st #steve harrington x eddie munson #unsteddie writing

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nickfowlerrr · 9 months

Text

i never thought you’d happen to me - 3

part one / part two

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst maybe? allusion to, but no actual, smut. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 2.6k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

As you pull up to their house, the soft glow from the few lights still on inside light up the windows along the front face. Bucky parks as you unbuckle and meets you as you open the passenger door, Wolfie in your hand as you stand.

You make your way up their porch quickly before Bucky knocks softly on the front door. It opens not too much later as Steve greets you both, holding Linc with one arm as he carries the still pouting boy, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder and chest as his arms hold onto his Uncle as comfortably as he can.

The second he registers its you guys, his bright blue eyes go wide, turning to Steve with a look of surprise, his mouth parting open like he can’t believe his own eyes, before he turns back to you both and stretches his arms out to Bucky, hitting Steve a bit as he does, but not seeming to register it in his excitement. Steve chuckles as he hands him over to Bucky, who takes him in his arms readily.

“Hi, Daddy,” Linc greets as he cuddles into Bucky’s chest, looking like he’s about to pass out any second now.

“Hey, buddy,” he smiles, “We brought you Wolfie.”

“Don’t need Wolfie,” he shakes his head, burying his face in Bucky’s shirt. “You, Daddy.”

You see the moment it clicks in Bucky’s mind that all Linc really wanted was him, and you can’t help but smile at the gleam in his eyes as he hugs his son tighter.

“Here, come in,” Steve tells you both, urging you inside. “I think Ellie’s sleeping, already,” he continues as he leads you to the kid’s room. Peeking inside, you can see her sleeping soundly, the spot near her, reserved for Licoln, obviously empty. You stare for a moment longer before Bucky steps beside you.

“We’re gonna try and go to sleep now, okay?” he tells Linc, who nods softly.

As Bucky enters the room, you find yourself alone with Steve in the hallway, who is staring at you quizzically.

“What?” you ask him.

“Nothin’,” he brushes off. “It’s just..” he stops himself, thinking through what he wants to say before he continues carefully. “Are you guys alright?”

You look at him like a deer in headlights.

“Yeah,” you breathe with a bit too fervent of a nod. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Just want to make sure. You guys have been acting odd all day. And look, if it’s a secret or something, that’s fine.. But, you know you can tell us anything. I just want to make sure everything’s alright,” he says sincerely, looking at you in the way only he can, a trust and understanding in his eyes that makes you want to come clean just like that. On instinct, you find yourself opening your mouth to confess your situation, but catch yourself before letting the absurdity slip.

“It is a secret,” you say, smiling through a grimace. “But, I promise, we’re good.”

He looks at you thoughtfully once more before conceding with a nod. “Okay,” he says before offering you a small smile.

The door creaks open a bit wider once again and you expect to find Bucky alone, coming out from getting Linc down.

So when he opens the door even wider and walks out with a twin in each arm, a sorry smile on his lips as he meets your eye, you can’t help but scoff in amusement.

Ellie is snoozing against him as Lincoln holds onto Wolfie like his life depends on it. His eyes are tired but he fights it still.

“I tried,” Bucky defends himself, “but Ellie woke up and they sweet talked me.”

“Can’t blame you,” Steve laughs, “Poppy suckered me into extra s’mores earlier with one puppy dog look alone, I can’t imagine what double toddler pouts would get outta me.”

Bucky laughs in turn, a look of pure happiness in his eyes as he watches his best friend in such simple joy talking about his kids. Steve is happy. Nat is happy. And you, he thinks, you’re happy too. He doesn’t know how or when you all luck out on this, but just knowing that this is the future that awaits him, he’s excited to go back to the present so he can live out every moment of this with you.

Ellie’s eyes flutter at the sound of your laugh at Steve’s story and she gingerly picks her head up, her eyes looking around. When she spots you, she lets her eyes close again as a smile graces her precious face, one arm blindly reaching out in your direction.

You see her and gently take her from Bucky’s hold, holding her tightly against you as she nuzzles into you. Her hand is petting you gently, like she’s ensuring you’re there and you feel her. You smile at the affectionate gesture until her small voice makes its way to your ears.

“Momma,” she sighs sleepily as she cuddles into your neck before her movements eventually stop and she’s sleeping once again.

And that was it. Her sweet, soft voice did it. You had to turn away from her as best you could as you tried not to choke on your cry - not wanting to wake her up and alarm her as your eyes welled and a tear slipped, your hand running up and down her back soothingly.

You could see the concern written all over Steve’s face as he looked at you, “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just been feeling really emotional lately,” you try to write off the sudden display of emotions taking over you.

“Oh. Oh,” he realizes. He nods, almost dumbly, “right, right.”

You know what he’s putting together in his mind, but you don’t have the energy to correct him. That can be a problem for future you to tamper down. You sniffle, trying to collect yourself as you hold Ellie securely in your arms. You look to Bucky with an unspoken question.

“I think we’re gonna take ‘em home, this little guy doesn’t wanna sleep tonight,” Bucky says, patting Linc’s back gently. “But thank you guys for watching them today.”

“Yeah, of course. And hey, we can pick them up on our way out tomorrow if you guys still wanted the day. Poppy and Al have been looking forward to it all week.”

“That’d be great,” you nod with a smile. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Anytime.”

You all walk to the front door and part with hugs before you and Bucky get the sleepy toddlers buckled in their seats. This time is much easier than it was this morning now that they’re thoroughly exhausted and not wiggling around like worms.

You shut the doors gently before getting in yourselves, Bucky driving you all back to the house in a peaceful quiet.

—

It’s easy getting them out of the car, each of you holding one as you enter back inside.

You and Bucky carry them to their room, thinking they’re finally settled, but as you try to put them down in their beds, neither of them will let go of you guys. Ellie is clearly still sleepy as she huffs annoyedly at you for trying to leave her when she’s so comfy, and Linc is awake again as he holds onto Bucky and Wolfie.

“Big bed, daddy,” he mumbles, looking at him with those pleading eyes.

Bucky looks at you, finding you holding Ellie close once again, not having put her down after her huffing. You shrug and watch as he nods, turning back to grab Lincoln.

“Alright,” he sighs, “come on, buddy. But we have to go to bed now, got it?”

“Mhm,” he nods happily, hugging Bucky’s neck.

You smile at the scene before making your way to the bedroom, thankful that all of you are already in pajamas as you sit on the bed with Ellie.

“I’m gonna lay down with you in a second, baby,” you reassure her quietly before setting her down, her head on a pillow near the center of the bed.

You take off your shoes as Bucky puts Lincoln down next to Ellie and does the same. You look at the twins, Lincoln finally letting his eyes close as his breaths slow and steady and sleep takes him at last. Bucky walks over to you and turns your face to him gently. You touch his wrist gingerly as you look in his eyes, stepping in closer. Being so close has never felt so right.

“What time did you fall asleep last night?” you ask him softly.

“Around midnight.”

“Me too,” you nod.

“Guess we still have a few hours to enjoy this,” he says, dropping his hand from your cheek in favor of pulling you closer by your waist, looking over with a bittersweet smile to the twins on the bed.

“Yeah,” you agree, “...and then what?”

“And then… we go back. Start living this all out in real time. Enjoy every second,” he says, leaning down to kiss you gently.

“Not the worst way to start forever,” you muse.

“Forever, huh?” he asks with a smirk.

“As long as we both shall live,” you nod with a smile of your own.

He titters before kissing you again, your lips moving softly against his. “Who woulda thought.”

“Mmm… everyone but us, apparently,” you laugh breathily before brushing his lips with yours once more. You move to pull away but Bucky keeps you where you are, kissing you a little more firmly as his hands lightly squeeze your chubby waist. Finally, you part for air, his forehead falling to yours as you take a second to catch your breath, licking your lips a touch.

A mumble followed by a huff sounds from the bed, catching both your attentions. You turn and see Ellie moving around before she speaks, more clearly this time.

“Mommy,” she eeks out, voice groggy with sleep as she rolls over.

“I guess this is goodnight,” you smile softly.

“Goodnight,” he says, giving you a soft smile of his own, tightening his hold on you for a second as he admires you still before him. “I’ll find you in the morning,” he promises.

You nod, the thought sending your tummy fluttering. “Okay.”

You slowly part and walk around to your sides of the bed, getting in carefully so as not to wake the twins. As you settle in, Ellie senses you near and crawls to you, hugging you as she settles into your warmth. You look over and see Linc already rolled into Bucky in turn. Your eyes meet Bucky’s then as you share a smile. You scooch closer to them, and he meets you near the middle - the four of you comfortable as can be under the comforter.

“Call me crazy,” he whispers, “but I’m looking forward to this already.”

You huff out a laugh at that before shaking your head lightly, “‘S’not that crazy,” you admit, sounding almost shy to yourself at the confession before glancing over at him again.

He looks so happy, his brilliant eyes shining even through the darkened room. “Goodnight, doll,” he offers again.

“Goodnight, Buck,” you whisper back.

With the twins cuddled up between you both, it isn’t long before all of you are sleeping soundly.

—-

It’s quiet when you wake up.

And cold.

You hate that.

You slowly blink your eyes open, finding yourself in your room back at the tower once again. You check the clock. 3:02am.

Your mind is racing and a weird feeling is growing in your stomach. You quickly recognize it as anxiety as you try to calm yourself down. The one thought that is at the forefront of your mind, over everything, is this: Was it real?

You sit up and take a second to orient yourself in the dark before getting up. You don’t bother with the lights, you go straight for the door to your room.

You pull it open as quietly as you can manage before walking into the hallway. It’s dark out here, too, but not pitch black. The glow from the soft lights down the hall offer you some sight before you follow them. No one is in the living room when you get there, though, the lights had just been left on apparently. You sigh, still struggling to comprehend if you’d just woken up from a very real seeming dream or if you really had just been in the future for 24 hours. You turn to start back down the hallway again. As you get to the entryway, you see a figure coming down, stopping you in your tracks as you try to see who it is. You step closer after a moment, too, curiosity eating at you - yelling at you to find out who it is.

Another step and then the figure becomes more clear. When you get to the point where you can both see each other, you both still and idle a moment - both of you seeming to be equally unsure.

Bucky takes a step to you, testing the waters. And you copy his movement. You stare at one another a second, your breathing getting heavier.

Suddenly, you lose your patience. You can’t take it any longer, you muster your courage and with a deep, albeit shaky breath, you walk to him again. He moves just as swiftly as you now, more confident in his path before meeting you in the middle of the hallway.

No words pass your lips, the moment you’re close enough to touch, Bucky has you flush against him as he crashes his lips into yours. You’re pulling him to you before he just lifts you off your feet, forcing you to hold onto him - not that you really minded all that much. Your arms are wound around his neck, your fingers in his hair as your thick thighs are around him, his hands holding you with no effort at all. The kiss is intent and fervent and long overdue here. He doesn’t let up and neither do you - every emotion you’d been holding back finally spilling as you lose yourself in him.

You have to break the kiss eventually, breathing heavier than you had been as you try to collect yourself as you press your forehead to his. Bucky holds you tightly, refusing to let you go as his eyes close - a shudder you almost didn’t notice passing over him.

“I love you,” he confesses quietly, almost pained. “‘M sorry if that’s too soon, but I need you to know. I do.”

“Bucky,” you utter, touching his cheek gently, urging him to look at you. You shake your head lightly, “don’t be sorry.”

You kiss him again, gentler now.

“I love you,” you breathe softly against his lips.

He smiles into your kiss, a sense of relief coming over you both as he hugs you tightly before he sets you down on your feet.

You look at him with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours before you slowly start down the hall again.

“My room or yours?” you ask without pretense, leading the way.

“My bed’s bigger,” he says, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you bridal style down the hall. “Hope you like it, because I don’t plan on letting you leave it for the next 24 hours. At least.

“We’ve got a lot of time to make up for. And a lot of future to catch up to,” he smiles as he carries you across the threshold before setting you gently down on his bed.

“Hm,” you simper, easily grabbing his hand and pulling him down on top of you, the sight of him above you sending that growing ever familiar thrill of anticipation through you, “we should really get started then.”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #dad!bucky #mom!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

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aalyssah · 1 year

Text

Detention

Pairing: Professor!Steve Rogers x Student!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Breeding Kink, Choking, Cursing, Daddy Kink, Deep Throat, Degradation, Face Fucking, Hair Pulling, Humiliation, Names, (Whore), Oral, (Steve Receiving), Spanking, and Unprotected Sex. Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 1,794

Summary: You’ve been a bad girl which gets you detention and bad girls get punished.

A/N: I really like this one and I hope you do too. Hope You Enjoy!

You sat in your class, bored out of your mind. You were in history. Your favorite class, but not for the reason you think. It's not because of the subject, but because of the teacher, Mr.Rogers or what you call him. Daddy.

You two have been seeing each other to 'talk about your grades' after school. You don't really know how it all started, it just happened and you sure don't want it to end. You've been needy lately due to the fact you haven't been able to 'talk' with him after school for almost 3 days.

Usually he would fuck you everyday, but he's been so behind with grading, he decided to take a break, so he rejected you, making you mad. "Does anyone know the answer?" Steve's voice broke you out of your thoughts. No kids answered as they didn't know the answer and the girls sat there admiring how hot he looked.

“Y/n, how about you?" You rolled your eyes huffing. "Well, if I didn't say anything when you asked the class, why would you call me out?" Your sassy tone surprised you and others as you were never known to talk back. People in the classroom watched as his eyes darkened. "Detention." Was all he said, as he walked to his desk and pulled out a paper.

He walked back to your desk and placed the paper in front of you, looking at you dead in the eyes. You know you are gonna be in big trouble when school is over.

———

The bell rang, announcing it was time for everyone to leave. You on the other hand had detention and boy were you looking forward to it. You took your time, walking around the school, talking to friends, even getting a snack before entering the room. Steve stood at the board, cleaning it off, face changing when he saw you.

His mouth was in a straight line, arms crossed over one another. "You wanted to see me, Mr.Rogers?" You couldn't contain the smirk that was on your face, sucking on the lollipop you got from a teacher. "Don't play coy with me, Y/n." He walked over, grabbing you by the throat.

“You think you can talk back to me, all because I didn't give your needy pussy attention?" You ignored him, sucking on the lollipop, looking up at him. He huffed in annoyance, grabbing the lollipop and throwing it on the floor, the crack of the candy being heard around the classroom.

“Hey, that's my lollipop you-" Steve stopped you from talking, manhandling you into his lap as he sat down. "I don't give a fuck, what it is. You're gonna answer me when I talk to you." You whimpered at his harsh tone. "You think you're all big and bad, embarrassing me in front of all your classmates?"

You didn't answer, looking down in shame. “Huh?" He smacked your butt, making a loud slap noise heard around the room and a moan fell from your lips. "N-no, Daddy, I'm sorry! Didn't mean to have an attitude. I just wanted you to fuck me!" Steve laughed, shaking his head.

It's too late to apologize, now. Get on your knees and show me how sorry you really are and I may think of fucking you." You followed his instructions, sinking to your knees, so you were at eye level with the obvious boner in his pants. You slowly unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants off with the help of him hovering up.

You palmed the bulge of his boxers, licking your lips at the sight. You took his cock out, making eye contact while giving him kitten licks, teasing him. He tapped your cheek, giving you a warning. "Don't play with me, Y/n." You wrapped your lips around him, taking him deep in your throat.

You used your other hand to jerk off what was left that you couldn't fit in your mouth. You let spit rub down his cock and over your hand as you sucked him off. Steve pulled your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "Such a messy girl." He sighed, feeling you hollow your cheeks before coming off him with a 'pop'.

You were too deep, still stroking him as you looked up at him. "Do you like when I suck your cock, Daddy?" Steve ignored you, grabbing his belt and wrapping it around the back of your neck. Your mouth was on his cock, as your head was being pushed down to the point where is cock hit your uvula.

You tapped his thigh, rapidly trying to tell him to calm down, but he didn't listen. His grip tightened on the belt as he thrusted his hips up, fucking your throat. Your gagging noises could be heard as tears blurred your vision. He let go of the belt, groaning. "Fuck." You coughed, holding your throat to get air in your lungs.

You barely had enough time to recover, when you were being pulled into the table. He ripped the skirt you had on, revealing you and no panties on. "You fucking whore, don't got no panties on." He slapped your ass making you moan. You smiled, shaking your butt, taunting him. "Only for you, Daddy." Steve groaned at the name, stroking himself.

He teased your hole, pushing his tip in and out slowly. "You think you deserve to be fuck?" You bit your lip, nodding your head, quieting a whine that was gonna come out your mouth. "Yes Sir, you should fuck me. I've been a good girl." Steve hummed his question. "Have you? Have you been a good girl, Y/n?" You agreed, trying to back up and push him deeper into you, but a hair pull stopped you.

You held high as you looked into his eyes. "So you think giving Daddy attitude is being a good girl?" You slowly shook your head, looking at the ground. He then turned around and walked to his desk, pulling out paper and a pencil before putting it in front of you. He bent you over the desk and rubbed his tip near your entrance.

“D-daddy, what's this?" Your shallow breaths were heard as you felt his hard on, enter you. "Just because I'm about to pound this little pussy, doesn't mean you are not in detention. Do the work." Once he finished the sentence, he pushed into you hard.

A loud moan came from your throat as you were forced on the desk. He took a moment to let you get used to his size and rubbed your hair. Once you caught your breath, you picked up the pencil and began answering the question. Before the pencil even made contact with the paper, a hard thrust was put against your ass.

You moaned, scrambling to hold onto the desk as his powerful thrusts began. He held his hands on your hips, pulling you back to meet him. "D-daddy!" You didn't care how loud you were. It all just felt too good. "You better be doing that work." He warned before grunting at how tight you were.

His voice was all blurry and muffled in your ears as you felt his cock hit deep spots within you. His hands came underneath your connected bodies and ripped your top off, freeing your breast. He fondled them, rolling your nipple in his fingers as he listened to you whine and squirm in his hold.

He laughed you for a moment, hearing you whine. "Shush, Daddy has to make a call." He reached over and grabbed his phone, calling his friend, but that didn't stop him from still punishing your pussy. He wrapped his hand around your mouth, quieting your screams into muffled words.

“Hey, Buck, I just wanted to see if you're still down to go to the movies?" Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the fact he called Bucky for that question.

The worst part was, Bucky or Mr. Barnes was your last period teacher. Who was the one who gave you the lollipop. Steve didn't try to slow some of his thrusts, not caring about the clapping you could hear in the background. He stood on his top toes, thrusting into you, hitting your g-spot making you scream in pleasure.

Steve growled as he slapped your ass. "What's, what noise?" He asked Bucky, who definitely knew what he was doing and who he was doing it with and just between the two of them, they've thought of sharing, but that's for another time.

“Alright man, I'll see you later tonight because ONE of my students got detention." You knew he was talking about you and it turned you in even more at the fact.

He hung up the call and grabbed you by the throat, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. It was full on tongue, teeth clashing together, moans and groans in each other's mouths. You two pulled back for air as his thrusts got harder. "D-dada- gonna c-cum!" Steve could feel you clenching around him tightly as he rubbed your clit.

You jolted at him, rubbing your sensitive bud. "Come on, Y/n. Cum for me, baby." He leaned down and nibbled on the sweet spot on your neck. You didn't even realize that you already came, eyes shutting close as you saw white come in your vision. Tears welled up in your eyes as you came, all hearing around you was muffled.

Steve grunted at how you clenched on him before feeling his own release coming. "I'm gonna cum in you, Baby. Gonna fill you up." You moaned, meeting his thrusts. "Put a baby in me, Daddy." He moaned, at the thought of you being pregnant, walking around your house and school with people not knowing your teacher got you pregnant.

“Yeah? You want me to put a baby in you? What is your father gonna think about your teacher impregnating his sweet little daughter." Steve was getting turned on by his own dirty talking, feeling his thrusts getting deeper and harder.

It was until you reached by him and grabbed his balls to where he came. You two moaned in sync as you felt his liquid spill into you. He shortly pulled out, slapping his cock against your ass a few times until you started to go for your clothes and backpack.

He grabbed you back, pulling him into his chest as you could feel his cock harden. "Where do you think you're going?" You turned around, looking at him, confused. "Home?" Steve laughed, shaking his head. "Oh no, you still have detention. You still got 3 hours." You gulped knowing 3 hours meant rounds.

At least detention won’t be so boring.

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers one shot #chris evans smut #professor!steve #marvel smut

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adrinktostopyourthirst · 2 years

Text

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Following Orders

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Plot: Bucky is always grumpy, so you've resorted to being aggressively bossy. But he will show you what following orders really looks like.

Warnings: 18+. Smut with a plot.

Words: 4,8OO

A sharp hiss comes from the man before you and you clamp your thighs around his ribs tighter to steady him, the air pockets from the storm that make the plane shake and dip through the sky already making it hard enough to finish your sutures on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Would you sit still?” you snap at him and grab his shoulders to pull the open wound closer to you and make it easier to see what you’re doing. In a plane, with minimum light and a diminutive amount of supplies to help your colleague with – a colleague that never manages to ever crack a smile, especially not towards you – your current situation pretty much sucks.

“Would you just let the serum do its job?” he sneers back, but lets you pull him closer anyway as he drops his head back down, his elbows resting on his pulled up knees.

“I think it has proven to not do its job, don’t you think?” you snarl and wind the needle through his flesh again, finding it harder and harder to be careful if he keeps snapping at you like this. But your reasoning seems to shut him up since all you can hear now are small groans from the back of his throat when you tug at the torn skin.

The healing powers the serum usually served Bucky with, have abandoned him and you have a feeling it’s because he has barely slept in the past two weeks and your current mission is an assignment from hell that has lasted longer than any of you anticipated.

Yesterday, a fish hook back at the harbour had made a gnarly gash into the flesh of Bucky’s shoulder and you’d never heard him roar like that before. However, once he saw you, he quickly composed himself and made sure the two of you got out of there and onto the nearest jet. That’s where you got clear instructions from Steve to make it to one of the safe houses on the other side of the world. Why so far away, you had no idea, but you assumed the team had to split up because the intel Steve and Natasha were after gave them information that could harm the entire team.

This whole ordeal seems far from over.

So now you’re stuck on a jet for ten hours with Bucky sitting down between your legs and you situated on one of the crates in the loading space as the jet navigates through the storm on autopilot. It’s been four hours and you had slapped Bucky over the head when you realised that his wound hadn’t started healing yet at all, activating autopilot as you grabbed Bucky by his jacket and dragged him back. You were surprised that in spite of his whining and grumbling, he didn’t use his superstrength to stop you.

You’re confused that the serum could ever even heal a wound like this since you’re sure the tissue was stretched too far. So to prevent infection and improve the self healing, you offered – well… forced – him to let you stitch him up. One glare of yours and Bucky decided not to fight you on it. Besides, he couldn’t bring up the energy anyway, especially not against you.

Bucky is exhausted and the feeling of your warm thighs against his sides as you stitch him up, combined with the rumbling of the plane, almost has him lulled to sleep. After all, a soldier can sleep in any condition. Until of course, a nightmare makes the bliss dissipate.

Finishing up your handiwork, you gently clean the wound once more, making Bucky clasp onto your calves for support, before having it covered with a large bandage.

“You good?” you ask him as you throw the contaminated materials away.

“What the hell do you think?” he grunts and you flick him in the head.

“You’re welcome, you ungrateful dick.”

Bucky lets out a huff as you come to a stand, walking over to the side of the jet and pulling out one of the bunks. Moving over to one of the stocking cabinets, you find a sweater around his size and throw it in his direction.

“Put this on and for everyone’s sake, get some fucking sleep. You’re unbearable to be around,” you order and walk forward again, slipping back into the pilot seat as you check the coordinates again, hoping the storm didn’t mess with your course.

“How are you so aggressive when you’re trying to help?” he grumbles under his breath, not quite low enough or you not to hear. So you turn your head to give him another look and you see him struggling to walk. Quickly coming back to a stand to jump to his side, he almost pushes you off until his vision starts to spin. Gently helping him straighten up and walk over to the bunk, you look up at him.

“Because you won’t let people help you, but you’re surprisingly good at following orders,” you simply answer and help him down onto the bunk, your eyes softening when you watch him wince. “Seriously Bucky, get some sleep. I’ll keep on lookout and I’ll wake you when we’re there.”

Bucky reluctantly agrees and carefully lies down onto the bunk. The softness in your voice almost swept him to sleep without getting situated first, but he puts his trust in you and allows himself to fall asleep soon enough.

…

A gentle stroke over his arm makes his eyes flutter open much more peacefully than he usually wakes up and his eyes meet yours. Your voice is gentle, understanding that he came from the deepest sleep he’s had in a long time.

“We’re here. You want to come inside?” you ask him and he pushes to a sit with a deep grunt, your hands gently helping him up. That’s when Bucky notices a thick layer of multiple blankets slipping down to his hips and the chill coming in from the loading rig that’s descended onto the massive grass field the jet had landed on, the warmth from his sleep chilling his skin.

Bucky slowly assesses his surrounding and nods, “How long have I slept for?”

“The storm derailed us from the course, so you had a few extra hours. I loaded everything into the safehouse and have some food on the stove already. I’d say about eleven hours in total,” you explain as you walk off before putting your hands on your hips and staring him down. “You good to walk, soldier?”

Bucky shakes his head back to reality and nods, pushing off and following you down the rig, towards the cabin at the edge of the full forest surrounding the field.

“You stayed awake for that long?” he asked as he sauntered after you into the cabin.

“Took a short nap myself, just to be sure I could stick the landing without crashing to our deaths.” You shrug and slip your thick jacket off before making your way further into the home, walking up to the stove to check on the simmering food.

“Come here. Need to take a look at the stitches,” you bark your order and turn back to him as he walks over, a deep frown still etched into his face even after the good sleep he had.

“So bossy…” he grumbles and you roll your eyes, forcefully spinning him back around and lifting his sweater up over his shoulder where Bucky’s metal hand catches onto it so you can inspect him.

Removing the bandage, you smile when you see the insane improvement to his skin and open one of the drawers to grab a small knife to cut the stitches with. Gently cutting them and leaving just his flesh to do the rest of the healing, you’re almost sure you can see the skin mending itself.

“I think this might not even leave a scar,” you tell him proudly with a tinge of awe, and he spins around to face you.

“Good. What are we eating?” he asks and peers over the stove.

“Hot air for your rude ass.” You roll your eyes and lift the lid of the pan to stir the soup you had simmering on the stove.

In the beginning, you wouldn’t touch Bucky’s presence with a ten foot pole. The man radiated introversion and pretty much only wanted to talk to Steve. After you saw him snarl and snap at any other colleagues trying, you stayed far away from him, despite your initial intention to make him feel safe and welcome. But Steve saw your professional and withheld response to the whole Bucky situation as the perfect asset to make you both each others’ partner in missions. You wanted to complain – you really did – but you worked exceptionally well together. It turns out, when you don’t talk, you get an awful lot done.

It’s not that you don’t like Bucky, you greatly appreciate him as a colleague. But if he only likes you when you mind your own business, he would be dead. The amount of times you have saved him from himself is too many to count and you gave him a scolding twice as often. Yet all Bucky ever replies with is a huff, a roll of his eyes and turning his back on you as he saunters off to someone who won’t be on his ass all the time.

“Always so mean,” Bucky grumbles and lifts himself to sit on the kitchen counter, cleaning his hand with a cloth he found laying around.

“What can I say? Your endless optimism and happiness just brings out that side of me,” you hum sarcastically and blink harshly a few times to will away the sleep in your body, demanding for you to have a nap, making you unable to see the hint of a smile at the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

Not much later, the two of you finish your soup and you get up to clean the bowls and stuff them away, but Bucky clasps his metal fingers around your arm and stops you.

“Get some sleep. I’ll clean up,” he orders, his voice surprisingly gentle. But you frown at him and shake your head with a shrug, trying to wrench your arm loose from his grip only for it to tighten even more. “Not a request, sweetheart. Sleep, or I’ll knock you out.”

“Resorting to threats now, Barnes?”

“Don’t tempt me. You don’t know where I draw the line.” His warning and narrowed eyes soften on you and it tugs strangely at your chest. “Sleep.”

“So bossy…” Noting the seriousness in his eyes, you know not to fight him on it any longer and you put down the bowls, throwing him one last defeated scowl before making your way over to the couch and curling up on the worn cushions after putting a blanket over it.

The last thing you notice as the weight of sleep presses you into the cushions, is the gentle touch of a duvet being tucked around your snoozing frame.

…

To say it’s disorienting to wake up revitalised in the middle of the night, in a cabin you don’t know, where it’s so dark that you can’t see a hand in front of your face, is an understatement. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, your pulse having erratically quickened from the mind-numbing sleep it was in mere seconds ago, and your fingers dig into the cushions below you to ground yourself.

Swinging your legs over the side of the couch, you hear a loud grunt and something catches onto your legs, pulling you down. In your sleepy state, you barely get to scream before you’re pinned under a super soldier that looks like he went into fighting mode with his eyes closed, your eyes finally adjusting to the darkness.

“Bucky. It’s me!” you hiss and he squints down at you, taking a second to realise before slowly letting go and flicking on the nearest light, still straddling your hips.

“What the fuck, man…” Bucky groans and rubs his eyes, his voice rough and raspy from sleep. “What are you doing?”

You peer up at him with wide eyes “I just tried getting up. I couldn’t see shit, so your stomach became the ground.”

Slowly climbing off you and resting his back against the couch, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and heaves a deep sigh.

“Well, that’s my rest gone for the rest of the night…” he grumbles with disappointment and runs a hand through his hair. You come up to a sitting position as well and make a noise in agreement.

“No. You’re going back to sleep.”

Your head snaps to him, “Excuse me?”

“Sleep.”

“What. Or you’ll knock me out?” you scoff as you rub your eyes.

“Don’t believe me?” His eyes are on you now and you tense before slowly turning to face him again.

“You are not going to knock me out!” You think. Right? “You’re not going to punch me, Barnes!”

He lets out a low laugh that skitters down your spine and your brows pull together. “I don’t have to punch you to knock you out. There are plenty of other ways.”

Your sleepy brain has a hard time catching on, before your eyes widen and you let out a noise of disgust. And your heart starts to pound harder at the wild insinuation. Why your heartbeat drops to between your legs, is something you ignore for the time being.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff, if only to distract his senses from the heat radiating off your face, “you can’t fuck a woman to sleep.”

He leans in and you are on the edge of knocking him out, but his breath on your skin halts you. “You have any idea of the perks of being a super soldier?”

His voice, that deep fucking voice and the gravel in it, makes you gulp, your eyes fluttering against all your inner protests. Your fingers curl on top of your bent knees and you quickly scramble away, up to a stand. Bucky laughs up at you and shrugs, standing up himself.

But that’s it. You don’t move.

You stay quiet. Contemplating. Like only now his words sink past your skin and into your system, which heavily responds to the idea of Bucky.

Bucky fucking you. So hard and deep that you can’t help but cry out, but sob for more. You crave the satisfaction of sleep after a good, thorough pounding. And by someone who is strong and firm and has a filthy mouth. Someone you have no other attachment to. Someone you know answers perfectly to you, as proven by the many missions that showed the two of you working in such synchronised manor, it almost scared you at first.

Bucky cocks his head, “Is that what you need?”

You catapult out of your thoughts and quickly look at him again, “What?”

A smirk. “You need me to fuck you to sleep, sweetheart?”

Fuck. That is a bit direct. And if it doesn’t make you almost drool.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” you whisper breathlessly. It sounds like a plea and round eyes look at him like it is.

A plea.

But not for him to stop.

“Why?” He takes a step closer to you, his eyes darting between yours. “What does it do?”

You roll your eyes and his flesh hand raises to cup your face. His long fingers tangle into the side of your hair and his thumb tips your jaw up to tilt your head towards his gaze.

“Use your words. What does it do?” he rasps, taking another step closer until he breathes your air, leaving you with none, it seems.

“It–” you struggle to find the words. What he does to you. He makes your blood turn hot and your skin prickle with cold. He makes excitement flutter in your belly, but it might be anger – indignation at his wild behaviour towards you.

“Not so talkative now, are you?” he croons and you grit your teeth at his incessant teasing. “Or are you waiting for me to take it from you? Make you sing instead?”

Yes.

“Make you cry out for me?” he smirks. “Or maybe just make you cry? Make you beg for it – for me. You’d be such a pretty sight with tears in your eyes.”

Your head buzzes and you don’t know whether he is complimenting you or dragging you through the mud. It feels so similar and it has your heart pounding and slick coating the fabric of your panties. You try to say his name, but no sound comes out.

Bucky understands, however, the moving of your lips, and wants to bite them. Those lips. Suck on them, have them tremble.

After all that disgusting distance between the two of you from the beginning, it would be deeply satisfying for him to tear you apart like that. Have you cry out for more of him. He would take his sweet, sweet time, too. If he can control himself, that is. But he wants to take his time – mess you up real good. Have you despise that distance between you two in the future, like he has always despised that distance.

The silence between the two of you is deafening and it makes you want to squirm. Closer or far away, you don’t know.

Bucky doesn’t feel like Bucky anymore. He feels like the devil taunting you with your deepest desire. But it’s him. He’s your desire. And you can’t tell if it has always been there or if he’s manipulating you into it. He could, you know he could. But you are starting to care less, the more he looks at you. You want him, need him. Your bones are crying out for him and you want to vocalise it.

You want him to drag it out of you, those cries and that horrible, terrible need.

You imagine it. His fingers, two of them, curled inside of you. And a drag. A curl. Another drag. Tearing out your soul, one moan at a time, as he peels that pleasure to the surface.

When the quiet between you becomes unbearable, you dare to nod, give him permission. But the thought of a nod crosses your eyes and Bucky drags your mouth to his before you can give your confirmation. It is hungry, but hesitant. His soft lips and his rough fingers curling against your scalp has you whimper softly, giving him permission with your pleasure. And he unleashes himself, groaning as his other hand drags your head even closer to him.

He nips and sucks and bites at your lips, not giving you any space to venture into the kiss yourself. But you whine softly and he complies by stroking his tongue into your mouth, tangling with yours as he pulls your body up against his. Your knees are weak and your hands clasp desperately at his forearms to make sure you don’t float away, away from him. From his promising kiss for more.

The ache between your legs is near painful and you squirm on your shaky legs, needing relief desperately. But you don’t want his mouth to stop doing that. Stop kissing you, Abusing your mouth with his own. Desperate, claiming, slow, aggressive – selfish almost.

“Fuck me to sleep, Bucky.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

…

“Ah–” you rasp, squeezing your eyes closed as pain, whining pain, pulsates through your core and thighs. Your limbs are trembling and your bare skin is covered in sweat. Your arms are aching from the stretch above your head and the grip Bucky has on your wrists feels like a faint bruise.

But you haven’t come yet.

His deft fingers do nothing more than graze over your clit and you shudder, the touch agonising. He’s been at this for what feels like hours – rubbing, stroking, circling, taunting – and you feel like you are going insane.

His deep voice growls lowly against your ear, “You want to come.”

A small part of you wants to slap him for that obvious statement, but that part of you is so small, so faint, you barely know her anymore. No, that other remaining part of you lets out a wanton whine. Pathetic. Completely desperate for anything. Your mouth opens to plead, but nothing else comes out than ragged breaths, your sweaty chest rising and falling as that sweet relief is withheld from you.

“You see,” Bucky whispers, his muscular body only in boxers now, and another press of his finger to your clit has you writhe and forget that he was talking to you in the first place, “I agree with you that I respond better to orders. But I have found myself to be better at giving them. Orders – And orgasms for that matter.”

You groan.

“But you wouldn’t know that,” he continues, “since you haven’t come yet, have you?”

Heaving a deep breath, you don’t deign to give him an answer.

“I think I want the first time you come for me to be on my tongue– ” he muses and your eyes fly open. “It’d be a shame if you passed out after the first one though. You have to stay awake for me, okay? I’m not done with you yet… Wouldn’t that be cruel – to just be done with you now?”

That drags you out of your stupor and you give him the biggest eyes you can muster, the most pathetic plea you can will into your body, “Please!”

“So polite,” he hums and presses a gentle kiss below your ear. But he decides he wants more and drags his open mouth over the skin of your neck, his tongue lashing over the heated skin before sinking his teeth into it. You sigh softly, as it seems any of his touches are a relief to the endless deprivation of him.

His mouth encircles your breast, the warmth making goosebumps prickle at your skin as your nipples stiffen. Bucky hums against your skin, his tongue circling around the taut bud before giving a playful bite to the soft flesh. His mouth dances further down and his hand slips from your wrists, his palm stroking down your arm and chest to follow his mouth. You know better than to move, your fingers digging into the pillow below your head instead. Focusing on your breathing, you try to get through the ache between your hips, that desperate throbbing for the man descending your body.

Both his palms press against the inside of your thighs and press them apart, the stretch in your muscles making you arch your back. You dare to look down and your jaw drops at the sight of his dark, ravenous eyes on your cunt. His hands holding you open like it’s nothing, like they are pressing to the table his meal is on.

It takes ages, his examination of your pleasure, and your hole pulsates in answer to his stare. Your breathing hurts from heaving the thick air and you can’t take it anymore. One hand reaches down and combs through Bucky’s full hair, through his locks and cupping his face. His eyes dart up to yours and you hold back from frowning at the daze he sprung out of.

“Bucky…” you breathe, a soft question for him to give you what you need. What you want.

He nuzzles into your palm with a grin and locks his again darkened gaze onto yours, before leaning down so agonisingly slowly. But a firework as large as the galaxy springs apart when his warm lips wrap around your clit and you could mistake it for an orgasm, only to find out that when Bucky sucks your clit into his mouth, you know for a fact a deadly orgasm is well on its way to shred you to pieces.

He hums lovingly against you and you let out a raspy moan. Your thighs get pushed to the mattress as Bucky wetly suckles at you, your chest rising quickly now as your orgasm crawls higher and higher in your body. And just when you think you’re there, Bucky retreats and drags his tongue between your folds, lapping up your slick from the source.

A strangled whine slips from your lips and Bucky groans in agreement, “Fuck, I know. But I haven’t tasted you yet. Let me just– ”

Another drag of his tongue has your shivering and your hand curls into a tight fist with his hair between it. He hums in delight at the tug at his scalp and buries his face deeper into your cunt, breathing harshly as he struggles to combine it with eating you whole. But the sounds alone, get you closer and closer and– “Bucky!”

“Go,” he hums against you, almost hurried. “Come on my tongue.”

An order indeed.

Body curling, your orgasm barrels into you like an avalanche. Endless weight presses on your nerves and you sob and moan and cry out, twitching against Bucky as his arms slip around your thighs to hold you to his mouth. Drinking your orgasm up and grinding his own hips into the mattress, Bucky devours the feeling of having you come under him. He had been teasing himself, never mind you. He wanted it to last, wanted you more pliant and bendy before he allowed you to come.

He crawls up your body, but you barely notice it, your orgasm still haunting you, racking through your spine and turning your blood to syrup. Bucky takes advantage of your open mouth and licks into it, teasing, smiling, taunting. For you to respond to him, prove him you’re still there.

So you move, languidly dragging your mouth against his as you tangle your hand into his hair again, pulling him closer. He groans into your mouth and a feeling of triumph swells in your chest at the way Bucky’s body melts to your side. Though the deception of his surrender might have been a distraction when you suddenly feel two fingers press into you, instantly curling against a swollen wall inside of you that has you gasp against his lips.

“Oh, fuck!” you moan and Bucky chuckles deeply above you, his fingers retreating before pressing into you again. His thumb teasingly darts over your swollen clit and lightning strikes your every nerve.

“You think too lowly of yourself to think I would be done with you,” Bucky rumbles, his lips moving against the flushed skin of your cheek, your eyes having closed in overwhelming pleasure. His fingers move faster and twist into you, opening you up. Then then slow again, teasing – endlessly teasing. Then faster. Slower.

Unpredictable – and your body cannot keep up as it hauls you closer to your high before retreating like it burned itself. But to burn yourself on the devil – on Bucky. What a delight. You sigh deeply and let the bed swallow you whole as you buck up against Bucky’s hand. He presses soft kisses to your cheek, mumbling to you that you’re almost there and you have to let him make you come again.

“More,” you breathe out. “More, more, more…”

He obliges and presses into your spot so well, his thumb dragging two firm circles over your clit at the same time and you burn alive. You arch like a string pulls you to the ceiling as Bucky’s fingers fuck you through a numbing orgasm. From your crown, all the way down to your toes, fire bursts and surges and implodes. Your moans sound attractive to your own ears as you come, your voice breaking and filled with breaths, crying out to the heavens that the devil made you come again.

And the haze clears, the fog lifting as your eyes open to watch a heady Bucky lick appreciatively at his fingers, the gleam on them reflecting the minimum amount of light in the bedroom. Your hand slides from his hair to his chest and you press him to the mattress, his own eyes widening as you crawl over him.

You straddle his waist, hissing as your bare pussy settles over his angry, hard cock. The fabric is rough to your skin, but you can only focus on his face.

Bucky leans up on his forearms and raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t think so– ”

“Oh yes. You are going to let me use you and then,” you smirk, “you can make me pass out. Since you have failed to do so thus far…”

A slow smile spreads over his face, “So bossy…”

You answer with a grin and a slow grind over his weeping cock, making him stutter under you, “Let’s see how well you follow orders now, Mr. Barnes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

#its 1am #i miss you guys #i feel like u can tell which books ive been reading this summer #my writing might have changed quite a bit #BUT I WROTE YOU GUYS #isnt it amazing??#Alright as always pls let me know what you think??#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #writing #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #oneshot #e to l

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lives-in-midgard · 5 months

Note

Hi! 🩷

I saw this reel yesterday, and I instantly thought of Bucky, especially after everything he's been through as TWS and his recovery! It can be single dad!Bucky, or he's in a relationship, whichever you're more comfortable with, of course.

Thank you so much for agreeing to let me make this request, and I can't wait to see where you'll be taking this! I already know the fluff on this one will be off the charts 🥰

Real Superhero

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky's adopted son goes back to school and gets a homework that surprises Bucky.

Word Count: 1645

A/N: Thank you so much @nicoline1998enilocin for giving me this sweet request! 💖I really like this video and you're right it really fits to Bucky's situation. I really hope you like how this turned out!!

Masterlist

Everyone knows Bucky Barnes as the Winter Soldier. The guy who killed a lot of people and to most of them he is not a real superhero, even though he joined the Avengers and has now helped and saved a lot of people in danger. Bucky fights alongside his best friend Steve Rogers aka Captain America and the other Avengers.

There are a few people for whom Bucky is a hero. For Steve, Bucky will always be a hero, not only because he is now an Avenger, but also because he has been through a lot and has always been there for him, Sam, Natasha, and the other Avengers. And of course, for the people he saved, but there is also one special person in Bucky’s life. For him, Bucky will always be the best and greatest hero of all time, even if Bucky isn’t really sure about that. Even though Bucky sometimes gets on this little guy’s nerves when he doesn’t do his homework or clean his room. I’m talking about Bucky’s adopted son Steven, or Steve as Bucky and everyone usually call him. Which can sometimes be a bit confusing and funny at the compound.

Bucky saved him when he was very little. Bucky and Steve brought him to the Avengers compound and took care of him. Bucky felt responsible for this little boy and decided to adopt him. Because they didn’t know his name, he called him Steven, in honor of Steve and everything they had been through. Bucky took good care of little Steve, and the other Avengers helped him. When Steven got older and had to go to school, Bucky decided to move away from the compound and no longer go on missions. Of course, the Avengers, especially Steve, Sam and also Natasha helped him and came to visit whenever they had time. Sometimes Bucky and little Steve would come to visit his aunts and uncles on the compound.

It was Steve’s first day of school in third grade. Bucky made his lunchbox while his little son ate his cornflakes. When Bucky was finished, he put the lunch box in Steve’s school bag. Then he looked at Steve and noticed that he wasn’t eating much and was really quiet. So, Bucky walked closer to him and knelt in front of his son.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Bud?” Bucky asked.

“I’m so nervous, daddy.”

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t have to. Remember you will see all your friends again.” That brought a smile to Steve’s face.

“You ’re right, dad. I can’t wait to see them again.” He said with excitement and made Bucky happy as well. Steve jumped up from the chair and hugged his dad. Bucky smiled to himself and hugged his son tightly.

“But now it’s time to go to school, buddy.”

“Can we call Uncle Steve and Aunt Nat later?” Bucky had to chuckle.

“Of course, we can.” Bucky said and then they made their way to the car. They drove to school and when they arrived, Bucky wanted to go with him to Steve’s classroom, but his son insisted on going alone. After a brief argument, Bucky agreed and knelt down to hug Steven and kissed his forehead. As his son walked away, he turned back to wave at his father. Bucky waved back with a smile and once he knew that his kid was save at school, he went back to his car and drove home.

When Bucky had to pick up his son from school, he waited outside with some other parents. After a few minutes the children came running out and he immediately looked for his son. When he saw Steve running towards him, Bucky started to smile.

“Hey, how was your day, buddy?” Bucky asked as his son stopped in front of him.

“It was so cool. All my friends were here, and we have a new teacher.” He blurted out in excitement.

“I’m so happy for you. How is your new teacher?”

“She is so cool!”

“She?”

“Yeah, Miss Y/L/N (Your last name), she even brought her dog with her.” Steve said and made Bucky curious to meet his new teacher.

Days passed and Steven always told his father a few stories about you and what a cool teacher you were. Bucky was getting more and more excited to meet you. What Bucky didn’t know was that his son also told you about him and what a great father he is. That Bucky saved him and is the best father. You always had to smile when Steven walked up to you and wanted to tell you another story about his wonderful dad. You couldn’t wait to meet Mr. Barnes.

It had been a few weeks since school started when Bucky was waiting outside the school again. He looked over at the small playground and saw a beautiful young woman standing there. He looked around and then saw his son playing there with his friends. This must be miss Y/L/N, his son’s new teacher. Bucky was stunned about how beautiful you looked.

A few minutes later his son and all the other kids came out and Bucky saw you looking over at the kids. For a second your eyes met Bucky’s and you both smiled at each other.

During the drive home, Steven told his dad about his day. When they got home, they had dinner and Steve started doing his homework. Bucky couldn’t stop thinking of you and your beautiful smile and even caught himself smiling of the thought of being the one making you smile or even laugh. After a while Steven came into the kitchen where Bucky was cleaning up the dishes.

“Daddy?” He said and Bucky immediately turned around.

“Yes, buddy?”

“Can I call Auntie Nat; I need some help with my homework?” He asked nervously.

“Sure, you can, but what’s the homework, maybe I can help as well.”

“Well…umm, we have to dress up as our favorite superhero and make a short presentation.” His son told him.

“And you want Aunt Nat’s help?” His son nodded, Bucky smiled and pulled out his phone to call Natasha. It only took a few seconds for Natasha to pick up.

“Hey Tasha, I have someone here who wants to talk to you.” Bucky said and handed the phone to his son. Natasha’s face lights up.

“It’s my favorite Steve.” She said and made them both chuckle. Natasha agreed to pick Steve up and go shopping with him.

After a few hours they came back, and Natasha had to say goodbye. Steve immediately went to his room get dressed. Bucky was curious to see which superhero his son chose. He probably chose Spiderman, Captain America, or maybe Iron Man? Bucky thought.

“I’m not looking. Are you almost ready?” Bucky asked as he knocked on the door to his son’s room.

“Yes” His son answered.

“Do you need any help?”

“No”

“Okay” Bucky said and suddenly his son walked out of his room. Bucky was confused because his son was wearing normal clothes. Well, they almost looked like something Bucky would wear.

“Wow. That is definitely not Spider Man!” Bucky said.

“He’s not a real superhero.”

“He’s not? Okay I give up. Who are you supposed to be?” Bucky asked confused but also curious.

“I’m you daddy.” His little son said. Bucky began to smile, and Steve smiled back at him. Bucky walked over to his son, knelt down and hugged him tightly. Bucky was so lucky to have him.

Bucky wasn’t sure what to expect when he picked Steve up from school the next day. But it definitely wasn’t like he was finally going to talk to you. His son came over and told him about his day when suddenly Bucky saw you walking towards him, and Bucky started to get nervous.

“Hello Mr. Barnes.” You nervously greeted him.

“Hello, miss Y/L/N. Please, call me Bucky.”

“Only if you call me Y/N.” You said but began to blush a little while Steve chuckled.

“Steve, how about you go to the playground and join your friends? I would like to talk to your dad.”

“Okay.” He said and you both watched as he ran to his friends.

“Oh, no what did he do?” Bucky asked and you had to chuckle and then smiled at Bucky.

“I can assure you, Bucky, he didn’t do anything wrong.” When you said his name, Bucky smiled.

“Actually; I wanted to compliment you on your son. He’s such a great student, always helps people and his presentation about you today was also very good.”

“He really did it about me?”

“He did, and your son is right, you really are a real superhero and one of the greatest.” You confessed, but Bucky began to get shy.

“You really believe that?” He asked.

“Of course, I do.”

“Thank you, Y/N, it means a lot to me to hear that.”

“Of course.” You said but didn’t know what else to say. But you didn’t want to leave him either. Bucky felt the same way, so he had to do something before his son came back.

“I’m not sure if this is okay, but I would really like to meet you again.”

“I would like to meet you again too, so yeah that’s okay.”

“Okay. I can give you my phone number, so you can text me whenever you have time.” Bucky said and you nodded. You handed him your phone and Bucky tipped in his number. He smiled when he handed it back to you. You said goodbye and walked away with a big smile. When Steve ran back to Bucky, you heard him say to Bucky:

“Do you like her, daddy?”

“Yeah, I really like her.” Bucky said and you had to smile because you really like him too and can’t wait to see him again.

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carolmunson · 7 months

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wake up slow | barista!steve harrington

entry for my fall frenzy requests this request comes in from @superblysubpar: 'there's a scenario with bookstore / library date AND a dialogue prompt that says "what are you reading?"' with steve harrington summary: it's 1990. you're on the opening shift at the bookstore you work at, only to be surprised at a newcomer claiming to be up for an interview for the open barista position in the cafe at the back. sort of put off to start, it's no surprise when things start to bloom over time, and i'm not talking about coffee grounds. tl;dr carol writes a mini romcom.

tw: minors dni, there's nothing too out of whack in this one but i still don't want minors in here. reader is a little sassy but also like, pretty normal overall.

That damn key jams every time it rains -- doesn't help that you left your umbrella at home. Doesn't help that the 'light mist' turned into a heavy downpour the closer you made it to the book store. Doesn't help that you had to park a street over because of street cleaning and had to walk a block in the rain. Now the damn key.

"Come on," you grumble, jiggling an wiggling to no avail. Insert, r-insert, slight tilt to the right, jiggle, pull out a little, turn a little left and then -- nothing. You take the key out only for it to fall to the ground with a fairy like tinkling.

"Come -- the fuck -- on," you nearly growl under your breath while your coat gets heavier and heavier with rain, hood soaking through and dripping water onto your face. You bend down to get the key with a sigh meant for people with back pain, coming back up again to see the coffee bar manager on the other side of the glass door. He chuckles, salt and pepper beared thick over his chin and cheeks. Ruddy skin beams red even in the cool grey light of the morning, 30 years a butcher who pivoted into coffee when he turned fifty and had a really good knack for it.

"Easy morning?"

"Does it look like one, Carl?" you ask, stepping in when he opens the door. He laughs again, a hearty belly laugh that might as well have transported him into a Santa suit in December. "What happened to you?" he asks, following you into the back room where you start putting your stuff in your cubby. You switch out your wet sneakers and socks for the platform loafers and knee highs in your bag. Now that the fall weathers hit, it's all corduroy and knit sweaters, circle skirts and tall socks. If you're going to be on your fifth year working at an idyllic bookstore, you might as well look the part.

"Weather app lied, street cleaning, forgot an umbrella," you shrug, "Just another manic Monday, y'know?" "I know," he nods, "Gimme one second." Carl comes back with a white paper cup and black lid that makes you smile from the inside out, "Is that what I think it is?" "Isn't it always?" he smiles, "I got it ready the second I saw you on the schedule. Caramel latte, hint of cinnamon. Since its -- ya know, fall officially, I put a little maple in there, too." "You spoil me," you sigh, taking the cup from him and letting the warmth radiate through your hands.

"I do," he nods, "But, that latte was the last of my regular milk so I need to run out and grab a few gallons before we open up. You okay to be hangin' out by yourself?"

You nod, of course you're okay to be hanging out by yourself. You take the first sip, letting the caramel flood your tongue. The maple is a good addition. You're about to tell Carl to add this to the seasonal menu but he's already out the break room door with his coat before you can. You hear the jingle of the bell and the lock of the door and eventually the silence settling into the store around you.

You start to re-organize the window display which should've been done last night but 'last night you' said that 'this morning you' could handle it. You wish you could punch last night you in the face, but this is what you get for taking an assistant manager position.

You stack the back to school reads next to your knees where you're sat on them. The dust billows when you move them, making you sneeze with each turn of your head. You rub at your eyes, realizing at that very moment that the mascara you put on this morning has now definitely smudged -- you can't even find the emotional capacity to check considering the store opens in forty five minutes. You wipe down the display shelves, letting the oak gleam under the spot lights. The color is a warm reminder of the cozy moments to come the way that they do this time of year. As you start separating the 'cozy reads' from your 'spooky reads' in the pile on the other side of your knees you hear a knocking at the door --that's not very like Carl to forget his key.

You look over your shoulder, not seeing Carl at all, and if it is, he had some kind of Seventeen Again magic happen to him in that time at the store. You stand up, wiping off your knees and straightening your skirt before getting to the door where the rapping continues against the glass. "We aren't open yet!" you call out.

"M'here for Carl!" you hear, muffled through the panes. "For the barista spot?" you yell back. The guy nods under his hood, the rain picking up in heavy sheets. You sigh, unlocking the door and letting him in. "Carl's not here, he ran out to get some more milk but um, you're welcome to wait in the break room if you want," you explain, wiping a palm over another display through the main hallway and wiping the dust off on your hip. "Thanks," he says, hood coming down to reveal a head full of thick chestnut hair. A gold ring shines on the the hand that runs through it, looks like a family crest type, right on his middle finger.

"I'm Steve," he says with a smile, hand now outstretched to take yours. You look at it and then at him, finally taking in the sight before you. Prominent straight nose, warm amber eyes, lips that definitely use chapstick regularly. He has a nice smile, the kind you read about in the romance novels in the back of the store, the kind people write about.

You take his hand and introduce yourself, he has a business major handshake and you only know that because you dated a handful of them back in college. You try to stifle a chuckle but it comes out airily out of your nose.

"Something funny?" he asks when you both let go. "No, no, sorry, I just thought of something from the other day," you shake your head, "Don't worry about it." He nods, taking off his coat and closing his umbrella following your lead to the back, "It's a cute place."

"Yeah, it's nice in the morning," you nod, "I normally close but -- doing a favor for a key holder today; so you have the pleasure of seeing the troll of the store in her natural habitat."

"What?"

"Nothing -- nevermind," you shake your head, cheeks burning with a wave of embarrassment when you look back and notice that he's genuinely very handsome. You get to the break room, pointing out the spare cubby where he can hang his coat and umbrella. He's in a sweater you swear you've seen on the Cosby Show -- dark green and patterned, a perfect combination of colors against his skin. It cuffs at the wrists, you can see a sliver of his white t-shirt underneath at the collar, a whisper of a gold chain tucked beneath it.

"Yeah um," you start, feeling your heart start to patter in your chest when he takes a seat at the table by the cabinets, "You can just wait here. I'll let Carl know when he comes back."

"Okay," he smiles, "Thanks."

You nod again, heading into the employee bathroom to collect yourself for a moment -- seeing your reflection. You forgot you had rubbed your eyes, masacra smudged in black smears nearly down to your cheeks. "I look insane," you whisper in horror, "Oh my fucking god."

You cover your face for a moment, trying to hide yourself from the embarrassment racking your chest. Definitely looking like the troll of the store, you silently scream into your palms, another dramatic whisper of, "I should just fucking kill myself."

Despite the humiliation, you know it's funny. This would happen to you. This hot guy would come in when your mascaras a mess and your hair is fucked up from the rain, when the weather is bad and your tights have a run, when your allergies are rampant from the dust. Of course he would!

You wet a paper towel and do your best to wipe off the smudges, happy to look a little less insane after a dab of tinted lip balm makes it onto your lips and cheeks.

When you re-emerge he's fiddling with his CD player and his over ear headphones, working on a knot in the wire. You go back over to the counter and take a sip of your forgotten latte.

"What do you drink?" he asks.

"Carl makes it special for me, it's not on the menu," you tell him over the black plastic top before taking another sip. He grins, a soft nod moving his hair with him -- so it's like that. "I didn't ask if it was on the menu. I asked what you drink," he says, leaning back in the chair. His eyes lingering on you sends a zip up your spine, wondering if he's giving you a once over or not.

"It's a caramel latte with maple and cinnamon," you tell him. His confidence both intruiges and enrages you, both making you want to tell him to get out but also learn more about this hot guy that wants to be a barista with a Wall Street handshake, "So why do you wanna work here?"

"Is this the start of my interview?" he laughs.

"No, I'm just wondering," you shrug.

"I'm back in school about twenty minutes away," he says, "Did it for a little when I was in high school -- coffee, I mean. Ice cream shop after that, video store after that. Went to school, took a break, back in it. My dad thinks having jobs like this builds y'know -- character and whatever."

"Jobs like this?" you ask, jaw tensing with annoyance.

"Like, y'know, jobs with the people," he tries to explain, pink building on his cheeks when he realizes he might've said something shitty, "They're not like bad jobs, that's not what I mean -- I mean like, y'know -- not suits kind of jobs. Regular shit."

"Regular shit," you nod, biting back what you wanna say. That gold crest ring should've been enough to tip you off, but your next question is the ace in the hole, "What're you back in school for?"

"Getting my MBA."

Of course.

"Nice," you lie, fake smiling into your next sip -- the latte going cold as your insides when you come to the conclusion that he's just some hot grade A asshole, "Well, good luck."

"Thanks," he calls out while you make your way back to the floor, "I really like your name, by the way! It suits you."

You try not to let that compliment change your mind.

He gets the job, but you don't see him a lot. He opens an then goes to classes at night, you close most of the time -- only catching him really in the first hour of your shift and the last hour of his. You're both too busy to be finding time to talk; him with his mid-shift clean and you with your hourly sales goals and mid-day schedule re-adjustments.

But he does wave when you come in. He calls out your name when you bustle past the coffee counter and weave through the tables to get to where you need to go. It's nice of him, you guess, but the stain of him explaining that the job he's doing is just for regular people taints it for you. Maybe he thinks you're just some menial worker bee that he only knows for now, since his daddy probably has a job lined up for him once he pays through his masters degree.

Job with a suit where the bookstore will be a distant memory for him, whereas you're on a two year track to becoming the manager and likely future owner when the owners get too old to manage it. Job with a suit where he'll pass by the store and shake his head at 'how stupid it was', a 'can you believe people work there?' head toss to a coworker while he get a coffee somewhere else. Meanwhile, it's your entire life, and so are all the stories inside.

A few weeks pass and the days get a little colder, the nights starting earlier as they go. You have an opening shift that chills your bones, hugging your wool coat tight to your body while you fiddle with the key at the door, groaning at the tinkling of it hitting the concrete again.

"Rough morning?"

You look up to the door opening, seeing a pair clean white Nike Air Force 1's singaling who it is.

"It is now," you mumble, grabbing the key and bustling inside.

"Surprised to see you here," he says, following you to the back, "You're not on the schedule." "Last minute switch up, Rochelle has a christening," you say, hanging your coat in the cubby and switching out your sneakers for platfoms again.

"Oh, nice," he grins, "So why is it a rough morning? 'Cause I'm here?"

"Sorta kinda," you shrug, "Did you alread--"

"I got sales report from yesterday on the check out desk, yes," he crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame.

"And th--"

"And the inventory report, and before you ask, yes I checked that all the milk is in stock and that we aren't low on beans. I've been here for a month, honey, I know what I'm doing," he mutters.

"Gross," you pull a face at him over your shoulder, "Don't call me honey."

He shrugs with a smirk, "Rochelle likes it."

"Can you go skulk to your caffeine den and leave me alone?" you snap, "I'm trying to open a store, here."

"Skulk, huh?"

"Too big of a word for you, Harrington?"

"You're on fire this morning," he smiles, that smile they write about.

"I kinda like it," he adds before turning out of the door and back into the warm light of the store towards the coffee bar. You swallow while you watch him leave -- I kinda like it ringing in your ears and floating down to your chest where is settles in, cozy and kind.

The reports are where he said the would be, neat and organized like he was the manager and Carl was his employee. You normally spent at least thirty minutes trying to figure out what Carl had written in chicken scratch on the forms, but Steve's sharp and elegant script was easy to read and perfectly spaced. Annoying.

Even his signature was handsome.

After you get the registers counted and ready you file the forms and mark the reports so they'll be ready for your manager when they get back in store. You check the list of what needs to be done, the chilly late October air swooping in from the cracks under the door. Your face sours while you make your way over to the coffee bar in the back, seeing Steve set up the pastry delivery in the cases on the side.

"Did you come back here to yell at me about something?" he asks, focused on the task at hand, "I got all morning."

"You didn't turn the heat on," you cross your arms, "That's like, the first thing you're supposed to do."

He scoffs quietly, shaking his head, popping back up to lean on glass of the case, "Did you read your morning report or just sit there and admire my handwriting?"

"Excuse me?" you bite back.

"Heats fucked," he shrugs, ducking back down to finishing his display, "They're sending someone to take a look at it later today."

"Whatever," you grumble, turning on your heel to go dust the front shelving and reshelf the returns from yesterday.

"Hey," he calls out, waiting for you to turn around before he continues. Your eyes catch his amber ones, sparkling with a mischief reserved for school boys who are mean to the girls they like, "You look nice today."

You look him over, sucking in your cheeks to kill the smile growing on your lips. His navy sweater hugs a bit across his chest and shoulders, giving way to billow slightly over his midsection and arms. Kahki chinos cut just at his ankles so his sneakers don't even look stupid paired with the outfit, socks just the right height to look cool and not forced. Awful.

"Yeah, you too Harrington," you agree quietly before walking away; and while you killed the smile, he was able to catch that crease in your eyes, the twitch in your shoulders. You thought that was nice, he wonders if he can make you do that again.

You head over to the back of the cafe during your break, no windows near your designated 'break chair'. It's close enough to the fireplace that it always feels like a rainy day even when it's nice outside. Now that Carl started his shift he got your drink ready to go the moment you walked over.

"Well la-di-da," Steve cocks his head when Carl walks over to greet the customer at the register, rag in his hands wiping up the pick up counter, "Expert service and you're not even gonna tip?"

"Here's a tip: leave me alone when I'm on break," you bite. Why did he have to be so handsome? Slight pink on his cheeks from the heat of the espresso and coffee machines, the lights overhead. The heat finally works again and it's almost working too well from the small bead of sweat forming above his brow. He runs a big hand through his hair again, the same way he did when you first met him. You try to ingore the way his bicep bulges in his sleeve when his arm stretches.

His tongue runs over his teeth, settling between them for a second before looking straight at you, "Good one."

"That's what you get when you read books," you say sarcastically, "You should try it sometime."

"You should teach me," he leans over the counter, resting his chin on his palm, "Bet you're a great teacher."

You bite your tongue, pulling in your lips and squinting your eyes to keep the smile from brewing a second time. You pick up your mug and sip your latte while he crosses his arms over his chest. "Nothing this time?" he asks, waiting for you second blow. You shake your head no, occupying your mouth with the rim.

"No?" He asks, you shake your head again, somehow glued to the spot under his stare. He slings the rag over his shoulder, still looking at you. "Well I don't wanna keep you standing here," he teases, offering you a wink that is so soul crushingly charming you could just die, "Enjoy your break."

You've never turned around so quickly in your entire life.

The following week you take another opening shift, happy to settle into the quiet of the cafe now that the morning rush of moms, dads, students, and aspiring writers have cleared out. The fire crackles just right, the leather warmed up to your body heat while the book sucks you in further an further. Thirty minutes pass when you hear a shift infront of you, the subtle squeak of leather being sat in with a soft crunch.

"What're you reading?"

You peer over the top of the spine to see Steve sat in the chair across from you, legs open wide while he leans his forearms on his knees. His long fingers slide together, gold ring shining in the light again to remind you of who he is and where he comes from. As handsome as he is today in his black henley and white t-shirt combo you'll never quite forget the fact that some MBA bro is perched in front of you like a puppy with nowhere to go.

"Sound out the cover, that should tell you," you boredly mumble before tucking back into the chair. His fingers peak over the spine, pushing the book down from the top. He pulls the leather chintz closer to yours with ease -- of course he does.

"Or you could tell me," he says with a softness you weren't ready to hear. Your chest gets warm again, creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

"It's Pride and Prejudice."

"S'that your favorite book or something?" he asks, elbow driving into his thigh so he can rest his chin on his fist.

"One of them," you shrug, "I always read it this time of year, kind of fits the mood of the season."

"Hm," he nods, like he's really listening, "What's it about?"

"Basically," you start, thinking of a way to describe it in two sentences or less, "It's like -- hm -- it's about two people, a love story. One guy is some super rich asshole and he's a jerk because the girl isn't as rich and him. And the girl isn't from the same social standing so she's a jerk because she already assumes that he's a super rich asshole. Like...I don't know, idiots in love who are too stubborn to love each other."

"Hm," he nods again, grin splitting his face, "Interesting."

"What's your favorite book?" you ask, wanting to wipe that smug grin right off his face. His dumb handsome face with that perfect sloped nose, and eyes that look like they're looking directly into you.

"I don't have one," he shrugs.

"You have to have one," you balk, "Like, even if it's one you read in school or something." "Hmm," he sits back up, leaning back in the chair with his hands resting just under his chest.

"You have to know how to read to run a business," you shrug.

"I know how to read, honey," he laughs, "I just don't have a favorite book."

"At least try," you ecourage, albiet annoyed. He taps his fingers on his diaphragm, one knee bouncing while he thinks about it. His shirt rides up just a smidge in the back, revealing a sliver of skin you didn't think you'd ever see.

"Shel Silverstein," he says finally, "Where the Sidewalk Ends."

"You didn't strike me as a poetry guy," you say, closing your book over your finger to hold your place.

"My mom went through this poetry phase -- and I'm my mother's son, so I had a poetry phase with her," he shrugs, "We wore that book out, think we had to get a second copy cause the first one was just like -- destroyed."

"Well that's...you know," you lean your head from side to side, "That's nice. It's cute."

"You'd know, right?" he smiles, that god damn smile Shel would write about in a new book. You'd bring back book burning just to throw it in the flames after it was published. He gets up, disappearing behind you for a moment and reappearing with your favorite green mug. He gingerly places it on the side table next to you.

"Compliments of the chef," he says, presenting it like a Michelin star meal.

You look at it, a perfect pour -- the cream rosetta leaf striking against the warm brown espresso. You can smell the caramel and maple already wafting off it, cinnamon sprinkled delicately on top.

"Um, thanks," you say quietly, taking the mug to your lips. He looks down at you eagerly when you take a sip, waiting for your reaction.

"Did you do something to it?" you ask before you take one.

"No I'm just -- damn, come on. I'm excited to see you try it," he sighs, "I worked hard on it."

"Fine, fine," you murmur, letting the latte flood onto your tongue. Its -- regrettably -- one of the best iterations of you've had in a while. The perfect creaminess without being too milky, enough caramel and maple without being too sweet, the espresso's bitterness cuts the sugar in just the right way to make it smooth. He knows he did it right by the way you go for a second sip without saying anything.

"I did good?" he quirks a brow.

"You did good," you nod.

"Good," he smiles, tapping the top of your chair, "'Cause Carl's putting it on the menu starting in November."

"How come?" you ask into your third sip, the steam billowing over your cheeks.

Steve lets his eyes flicker over your face slowly, offering a half shrug, "I told him to."

November brings the first pre-season snow, not that it mattered now that your favorite drink was a regular menu item now. Caramel and maple always in stock, espresso machine always on first thing in the morning.

You open twice a week now, seeing Steve more often than not. Dropping your key became less common now that he was normally at the door when you'd get there, ready to let you in.

"Another great day, right?" he'd tease.

Now that the holidays were in full swing the bookstore was busier than ever -- sales, bundles, events. You even started carrying children's coloring books and crayons in the kid's section; a whole set up just for kids to sit and color while their parent's browsed.

The stress was getting to you, constantly checking and rechecking the end of day sales versus last year, wanting to make sure everything was on a steady incline with a nice cushion for the next. It helped that the cafe seemed to be absolutely climbing in numbers since September. More and more people wanted to spend time over there, and the more time they spent the more time they looked at books or started reading. It wasn't shocking to see people checking out at the counter with a second coffee and a new book or two in hand.

You don't want it to be true, but you're sure the new barista had a play in what makes so many people stick around. You'd see the way Steve would flirt when he took orders, how he's listen to them intently, make every customer feel like they were the only person in the room.

At least that's how he'd make you feel when he caught your gaze from over the shelving, helping find books for new patrons from the college nearby. You both started to wave at each other at each passing glance, each look caught by surprise, each accidental yearning stare.

Mid-November greets you with a bitter chill, the very early morning doesn't even have the decency to greet with you the rising sun. It'll be atleast another half hour until then.

For the first time in a long time you don't drop the key, pushing into the store with ease. You waste no time turning the heat on, making sure the radiators bled a bit before hand. You rub your hands together while they settle in, putting your coat away in the cubby and switching out your shoes in the break room.

Opening on a Saturday morning isn't common for you, but it's the first event you've planned by yourself. A very simple read-along story telling with some kids from the neighborhood and their parents. You collected three solid winter time reads: The Mitten, The Snowy Day, and A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. A solid hour of reading while the parents could peruse, or sit and watch while their kids tuned into a book instead of cartoons on Nick Jr.

Once you've given yourself the onceover for the morning you feel more confident about the upcoming next few hours. Your knit tights fit snugly over your legs, a touch sheered out with the stretch over your thighs but the pleats in your plaid maroon skirt cover that just fine, hitting just above your knees -- still covered, still sensible. Still cute enough to snag a single dad if one were to show up.

Your feet stay tucked in a pair of worn in platform mary-janes stolen from your sister's New York City closet when you went to visit her over the summer. The chunky knit sweater over the whole ensemble completes you, a spitting image of a 'caught on the street' look you saw in a Seventeen magazine that you still get delivered to you despite being well past the age group.

You thrifted the sweater with Steve in mind, it looked like something he'd wear.

Anyway.

As you set up the 'reading rug' in the cafe area you hear the familar unlocking of the door. The sun finally starting to seep in in golden shards through the panes, leaving squares of light on the wood floors and carpets below.

"Hey Carl!" you call out, "I got everything up and running for you."

You hear the keys jingle but not his smoker's cough, not his heavy steps finding their way to the cafe area. Instead you look up to see Steve with his hands on his hips, watching you struggle to move the leather chintz to the back wall as your reading chair.

"Redecorating?" he asks, looking around the cafe. Under his shearling lined aviator jacket is an open hunter green flannel you wouldn't expect to see him in, his white t-shirt underneath hugs tights to his chest and stomach. You unfortunately noticed how great of a view that is for you.

"Um," you started, looking around the room and the dissaray you seem to have made without realizing, "Why are you here?"

"Same reason your here," he says, stepping forward to shoo you away from the chair, "I'm on the payroll."

"You don't work weekends," you say, crossing your arms over your chest while he lifts the chair over the rug with a soft grunt.

"I do today," he says with a slight strain, "Where do you want this?"

"Uh," you start, "Just right in the center against the wall so everyone can see me."

"Oh, so you're reading to the kids this morning?" he laughs to himself after putting the chair down. He wipes his hands off on each other, shrugging off the jacket and holding it in one arm, "Bitter Betty is gonna entertain the young minds of Main Street?"

"Bitter Betty, huh?" you challenge, following him into the back room, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what that's supposed to mean," he shakes his head.

"I am very sweet," you tell him, a serious edge to your voice, "There are so many customer reviews saying how sweet I am."

"Sure," he nods, putting his coat away in his cubby, "I bet there are; since y'know, you're selling them something."

"I'm not just nice when I'm selling something," you say softly, arms coming protectively across your chest. A frustration bubbles in your chest while you look at him, following him back out into the cafe so you can keep getting the place ready before the families start to show up, "You think you know everything."

"I don't," he shakes his head, smiling while he checks over the machines and gets the first pot of coffee started.

"Yeah, you do. You walked in here two months ago and swear you know everything," you huff, getting the cafe back to a place of organized coziness.

"Okay," he chuckles, "Whatever you say, boss."

"You're infuriating," you mumble under your breath.

"Got that caramel latte coming right up for you, by the way," he says warmly.

Your head turns to see him watching you, he smiles, "Maybe you're a little nicer after you've had a coffee."

You smile back, unable to stop it this time.

"So that's a yes, right?" he cocks his head, fingers drumming on the counter while he watches you. That Harringtom charm pumping out at full speed.

"Y-yeah," you nod, "Whatever. You gonna go chop down a tree, Harrington? What's with the flannel?"

He looks down at his shirt and then back up at you with a soft shake of his head, "I better hurry up and get that started for you."

The kids look up at you with starry eyes, their parents smiling along with their coffees, lattes, espressos, and pastries. The Mitten was a hit and The Snowy Day is so far showing up to be a great follow up.

You take your time to really point out the pictures and adding on to the story since all three of them are pretty short. However, you're finding that kids between two and five are pretty easy to entertain if you do enough counting and make enough sound effects. Maybe you should've been a kindergarten teacher -- or maybe not. Maybe you should just keep doing book events.

You're halfway through when you show the illustrations to the group again, listening to them ooh and ahh at all the snow.

"Did um -- Miss -- did you know -- it snowed? It snowed at my house," one of the older kids announces, arm straight up in the air.

"It snowed last week, Michael, that's right," his mom pipes up, "Daddy had to shovel outside."

"Has everyone else seen snow? Raise your hand if you've seen this much snow!" you announce in your perfect parentese, watching while the older kids and parents raise their hands. The two year olds don't really get it so they just sit there and laugh.

You look up at all the hands, an enthusiastic 'Wow!' coming out of your mouth -- but you barely hear it. Behind the hands are a set of warm amber eyes looking at you from the coffee bar, soft and gentle. Enthralled even. You swallow and lick your lips quickly before smiling, catching his smile back as you look back at the book to start again.

After each couple of pages you catch each other, the pink on his cheeks rising when he looks away -- pretending to be occupied with something else. Cleaning, organizing, resetting the espresso machine. He can tell you're flustered by the way you clear your throat whenever you start to read again.

After The Snowy Day you take a ten minute break so that the parents can take their kids to the bathroom or re-up their beverages. The tip jar is full to bursting because nobody knows how to make a single mom feel like Steve Harrington does; and husbands will pay anything to get him to leave their wives alone.

You reset your chair, making sure the books you're reading are on display for purchasing on the shelving close by in your Winter Children's Bundle for a discounted price. As the ten minutes closes up you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

"Here," you turn around to Steve with a green mug in his hands, "It's just regular coffee this time, but -- figured you could use it."

You take it body first, reaching around for the handle only to feel his fingers brush against yours at the hand of. The soft touch isn't electric like it is in the books, it's like that but better. Warm like an oven, the gooey parts of you rising in a slow bake when you see him look down and turn away -- running that same hand through his hair on his way back to the counter.

"Thanks," you say over the chatter of parents and kids coming back to sit.

"Can I have something ready for you for your break?" he asks back.

"Surprise me," you shrug, sitting back on your chintz chair and taking the final book onto your lap. The kids cheer when they see Snoopy on the cover, a well loved favorite cartoon to finish off their morning. With the crack of the spine you can already smell the sales coming once this little event is over.

You work through your break, ringing up and helping customer after customer on easily one of the busiest Saturday's you've seen in a while. It normally doesn't get busy like this at least for another couple of weeks.

The stress of working through lunch barely matters though because your event was a bigger success than you could've hoped for -- logging in the notes for Rochelle that you should probably start doing this throughout the season just for good measure.

It's starting to get dark by the time your shift ends and the store closes -- early on Saturdays at a tight 4 PM. You let your sales girl go a little early, wanting to take the time to close up the store properly since you were the one who made it such a mess this morning. As you start to put the chairs back that had been moved from the cafe to the children's section you hear him, fingers tapping on the counter.

"You didn't come by for your break," he says, "And I put a lot of effort into that drink."

"Sorry, we can't all be flirting through our shifts like you can, Harrington," you snark with a grin, flipping the last chair over onto it's accompanied table.

"You don't have to clean up the coffee part of the store," he says, coming around with another mug in hand, "That's my job, y'know."

"I know," you say, "But I kind of fucked it up this morning so -- just doing my part."

"Well, here," he says, mug outstretched in his large hand, gold ring gleaming back at you, "For doing your part, I guess."

"You guess, huh?" you laugh lazily, taking it -- he places his fingers in a way that you have no choice but to touch them. You wonder if he did it on purpose, "What do you call this one?"

"'Surprise me'," he replies in a mocking drawl, flipping the rag over his shoulder again and leaning against the counter's edge. The first sip is unfortunately one of the most even temperatured hot drinks you've put past your lips.

"You're good at this," you blurt out, almost offended.

"Well don't look so upset about it."

"I am upset about it," you nod back over the lip of the mug, taking another sip. Mocha -- something. It's like hot chocolate and espresso but better, still caramel, still cinnamon, like a hug from your past but caffienated like your present.

"Consider me surprised," you nod, licking your lips again, "It's good -- it's um -- yeah. It's really good."

"Thanks," he smirks, "A few of the mom's thought so, too."

You let out a sigh through your teeth, rolling your eyes. He expected that, taking a step forward when your gaze comes back to center. You can smell the left over wraiths of his cologne and Old Spice deodorant, count the moles on his neck adorned with his hidden gold chain, see the hair on his forearms from his rolled up sleeves.

"You know something," he says quietly, "If I didn't know any better -- I'd think you like me."

"Like you?" you balk, eyes widening, "You wish."

He clicks his tongue when you get so defensive because it just proves him right. He crosses his arms with another step forward, head cocking to the side slightly while he sizes you up. Why did his creator need to make his forearms so beefy? So perfectly sculpted that you can't look at them without losing your train of thought? Stupid.

"I don't think I have to wish, honey," he says softly, Doc Martins creaking on the wooden floors, "I think...uh, I think I must allow you to tell me how ardently you admire and like me."

Your mouth falls open, staring at him with eyes as glassy at the kids who watched you read this morning.

"You -- no -- you read it?"

"Maybe," he says, another step forward, his arms bumping against your chest.

"Maybe?" you ask back, brow quirking.

"Yeah, maybe I did," he runs a hand through his hair, falling back away from his face to show off his sturdy brow bone, watching you with admiration down the slope of his nose.

He reaches down and takes the mug out of your hand with smooth finesse, arm long enough to reach back and place it on the counter behind him. When he leans back in place he's closer than before, toe to toe, nearly nose to nose.

"Maybe I bought it the day you told me about it," he shrugs, "Maybe I thought it was pretty close to something I had goin' on with a girl I know."

"A girl you know?" you challenge. You know exactly who he means, but it might be fun to hear him say it. "Yeah, sometimes I only see her like, an hour a day. But sometimes I get to watch her read on her break, sometimes I get to close with her on Saturdays," he explains warmly, the timbre of his voice deep against the crackling of the fire in the back corner of the cafe.

"This is the only Saturday you've closed with me," you counter, head tilting up slightly, close enough that the tip of your nose brushes his.

"Who said I was talking about you, honey?" he murmurs back, mischief in his eyes that are half hidden by his eyelids. You feel a puff of his breath over your top lip, still minty fresh like he just brushed his teeth.

"We both know you're talking about me," you smirk, self satisfied while his gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes. He steps at an angle, making you step back so you're against the pick up counter.

"So sure of yourself," he he scoffs quietly, leaning over you and getting into your space. Each hand coming to the side of you to lean on the granite, caging you in, "I like that in a pretty girl."

"Most do," you shrug matter of factly.

"Yeah," he nods, "Think that's what I like about you."

"Maybe that's what I like about you, too," you nearly whisper out.

"Maybe?" he asks, lower lip ghosting over yours. "Mayb--"

The hand he uses to run through his hair finds itself flat over the back of yours, sliding down to over your cheek and jaw where he keeps you angled just right. He closes the millimeters between you, warm lips catching yours in a kiss that feels like passion but a power play you want to match.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, heads moving in soft tilts when you change angles. When you find yourself sat on the edge of the counter he uses the leverage to pull you close to him, hips between the fullness of your thighs.

His tongue skates over yours when it slides into your mouth, free hand ridding up the soft material of your tights, tips of his fingers inching under the hem of your skirt in an innocent tease.

Even the way he breathes through it is sexy, leaving you with a lingering guess of what he can do when he presses his lips against your neck. Tongue flitting and striping while he nearly nips a bruise onto your skin. You let out a gentle gasp, enough to admit defeat to him -- much to your chagrin. Steve comes back up to your lips to meet you with a few final deep kisses before you break apart.

He steps back once, the deep golden light of the sun setting cracks through the panes of the back window in the cafe, adoring him in a glow that shines of his hair and eyes. The kind of glow they write about, the kind of glow you read about.

You both take deep breaths, eyes hungry for each other -- unsure if you should go for more. He lingers, coming forward again to rest his hands on your thighs.

"I didn't read it," he confesses. "Pfffft. Why am I not surprised?" you huff, exasperated.

"But! But, but, but," he argues back, pecking you feverishly, "I had to go to like, five different places to find the movie from 1980 so -- I did actually put some effort into it."

"I love that one," you say back.

"I get points for that, right?" he asks expectantly.

"Yeah, fine. You're luck you're cute," you explain, "But you do definitely have to read it, at some point. If you wanna keep making out with me in the cafe after closing."

"Oh, absolutely," he grins, hand reaching to pull you in by the back of the neck for a final searing kiss, "You'll have to teach me, remember?"

You of course start closing together every single Saturday.

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #barista!steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington imagine

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headkiss · 2 years

Text

pretty

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: three times eddie almost asks you out, and the one time he does.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: nothing! smitten eddie and reader with lots of fluff and waiting for them to get together!

a/n: hi hi! sorry for the wait for this one, but i hope you guys like it and pls let me know what u think :D

༄

Somehow, Eddie was roped into bringing Dustin to the arcade on a random weeknight. Something about Steve working and a new game being installed that he couldn’t miss.

And anyway, he has a hard time saying no to the kid.

So, that led him to having to clean out his van of his staches and anything he deemed unsuitable for the nosy eyes of Dustin Henderson. Eddie never thought he’d care so much about the youngest members of Hellfire, but he saw a lot of himself in them.

After picking up Dustin, who insisted on choosing the music, and driving to the arcade, he parked and followed Dustin inside. Of course, Eddie’s been to the arcade before, but last time he went, Keith was the one working there.

And you—who had a bright smile and was waving to Dustin—were certainly not Keith.

Eddie trailed behind his younger friend as he walked over to the counter to talk to you. Of course, Eddie knew who you were, but you were different from the person he went to school with, you seemed happier, like there was a weight that wasn’t holding you down anymore. He also had no idea you knew Dustin.

“Hurry up!” The curly-haired boy called from where he stood by the counter.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he stopped walking.

He caught up quickly, coming to rest his elbows on the desk you stood behind. You were laughing at something Dustin had said and it was a beautiful sight. Eddie wanted to make you laugh like that himself.

“Finally. Eddie, this is my old babysitter,” Dustin introduced you, even if you already knew each other. “Now she’s here all the time and loves when I come in.”

Eddie whispers your name, testing it on his tongue.

“You how he found out about this new game?” He faces you, and he swears he can feel his heart stutter when you make eye contact.

Your eyes are kind, soft, and surrounded by smudgy eyeliner that brings them out even more. He’s struck by how pretty you are. Not that you weren’t before, he’s just never noticed it until now.

“Guilty,” you shrug with a shy smile. “But hey, you can hang out with me here if you’d rather.”

Dustin was off with a rushed promise of getting the high score, and then it was just you and Eddie. He decided to take you up on your offer of passing the time with you. He’s sure it beats listening to Dustin yell at a video game.

“So, Eddie,” you prop yourself up with an elbow on the counter, chin perched on your hand. “Haven’t seen you since school. How are you?”

“Good, yeah. Finally graduated, so that’s something.”

“That’s great! What about your band?”

He’s surprised you knew about it, but he tries to hide it. “Corroded Coffin, yep. Still going.”

“And Hellfire? Dustin tells me all about it when he’s here.”

He can’t deny the pleasure he feels knowing you know about his hobbies. Even if you’ve probably learned it all through Dustin.

“Couldn’t let it go so I still run it. It’s nerdy but I love it.”

“Nothing wrong with nerdy. I’ve heard lots about it and it sounds really fun.”

You don’t mean to sound creepy or come off that way, knowing about Eddie and wanting to talk about it. You’re interested in knowing, you want to be his friend. He’s kind and funny and has an energy about him that you want to be around. He makes you a little nervous, even if you hide it well.

“It’s, um.. Yeah. It’s great.”

The evening moves along and you and Eddie talk through it all, save the interruptions from customers when you’re actually needed. It was easy and even through the awkward points, you both wanted to be there.

Eddie wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy himself, he was expecting a night that was a favor to Dustin and that’s it. But you were there. You made it better.

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” Dustin strolls up to the counter and sets his hands on his hips, impatient and demanding as always. You smile at him.

“Get the high score?”

“You know it! You better tell me if anyone beats it.”

“Always do, Dusty.”

He gives you that toothy grin that you love. He really is a great kid. He then turns to Eddie and gives him a look that said ‘let’s go.’

“Well, duty calls. It was nice to see you.”

“You too, Eddie. See you.”

“Bye, pretty.”

He’s out the door before you can properly react to his term of endearment. You certainly could get used to hearing it from him, though.

In the van, Dustin eyes Eddie before saying, “so did you ask her out?”

“What?”

Dustin huffs, like it’s obvious. “You were all oh my gosh, swoon, as soon as you saw her. Seriously.”

“I was not,” was he? Eddie had no idea what he was feeling but he knew that you were pretty, and that he wanted to spend time with you again. That was it.

“You were! She was too, so you guys should totally date.”

“Listen here, Henderson. I’m the elder, so I give the advice and make the decisions. It’s not like that, just haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Sure.”

It’s the weekend after that day at the arcade and your friends have managed to wrangle you into a night out. You weren’t opposed to going it, you just had to be in the right mood. That mood didn’t come until they told you Corroded Coffin would be playing.

Eddie’s band.

You don’t want to admit it, but you’ve been waiting for him to come in again since last time. And every time Dustin walked in, you’d peek behind him to see if Eddie would be following. So far, he never was, so you took this chance to see him again.

It worked, because he was on stage when you walked in. You froze for a moment, taking him in. He was playing his guitar, and there was sweat dripping from his forehead and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter. He was really something.

Your friends tugged you over to the bar, forcing your attention away from Eddie. You took turns placing your orders and grabbing your drinks.

Eventually, you made your way to the dance floor with your small group. You didn’t think you’d have fun, but you were. Letting loose and moving along with the songs Eddie and his band were playing.

You spared a glance over to the stage, and Eddie was already looking at you when you glanced at him. Your eyes locked and he gave you a smirk before looking back at his guitar. He seemed like a whole new person up there, confident and free.

It was a great sight to see. Him in his element.

Each time you looked over at Eddie, he’d be looking, too. Or at least, you were convinced he was. Sometimes he’d smile, or wink, and sometimes he’d just look away as if he’d been caught. It was a push and pull and you were bathing in the slightest attention from him.

Closer to the end of his set, you drifted off to the bar, taking a seat and really watching him play. The whole band was incredible, but you couldn’t get your eyes off of Eddie and you’re pretty sure he knew it. Your friends were still dancing away, some with partners for the night.

When the last song was played, you were determined to be the loudest one cheering.

Eddie was feeling a lot. Ecstatic that you showed up, that you looked at him so much during his set and that you shied away from him every time he’d give you an expression back. It was cute. He was nervous too, though. Nervous to know what you thought about his music and his performance. You just made him nervous in general.

He still wanted to talk to you. To hear you laugh and see you smile up close. God, maybe Dustin was right.

Gareth came up behind Eddie backstage, a hand on his shoulder. “Good one tonight, right? Even saw you making goo goo eyes.”

“Wha- Goo goo eyes?”

“Yes. So will you introduce me?”

“Gareth, she went to school with us. You literally know each other.”

His friend huffs, “okay. Re-introduce, then.”

“Fine.”

Eddie and Gareth make their way through the crowded bar, the Hideout. The former spots you easily, from your black Doc Martens all the way up to your hair. He takes the seat next to you, Gareth on his other side.

“Hi, pretty.”

It takes you a second to recover from the nickname. “Oh! Hi, Eddie. And Gareth. You guys were amazing.”

Eddie’s beaming at the praise. He treasures his music and to hear that you enjoyed it means a lot to him. Like, a lot.

“Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Eddie was close to you, his arm brushing against yours.

“Me three!” You had almost forgotten Gareth was there.

You strike up a conversation with him, though. Asking about the band and how Gareth likes it. He’s kind, and you think he’d get along with one of your friends so you beckon her over and introduce them. She and Gareth are lost in their own chat, so you get Eddie to yourself once more.

“So, you liked it?”

“Liked it? Eddie, you guys are insanely good. I loved it. You look so alive up there, like it’s where you belong.”

His heart was soaring. The way that you could see how much he loved to perform, that you could tell he loved it from one single set. He was amazed by you.

“Thank you,” he looks down, blushing. “I’m happy you think so. Next time you come see me let me know, I’ll get you to stand sidestage, sound good?”

Holy shit. “Yeah. Perfect, actually.”

You can’t believe you and Eddie hadn’t become friends until now, until Dustin dragged him into the arcade. You wish that you’d been closer to him in school, that you could’ve had years of his company already.

At least you know him now.

“So, how do you like working at the arcade?”

“It’s alright. Loud, and sometimes boring. Dustin and his friends brighten it up. They’re great kids.”

“They are. Shitheads, too.”

You laugh, a small one, but it’s there. Eddie feels accomplished that he’s the one who drew it out of you.

“Yeah they are. You do anything for work other than music?”

And so, the small talk grows from there. He learns about your hobbies and you learn about his life with his uncle and everything. It’s nice, and it’s rare to find someone so easy to talk to for you.

At some point, Gareth and his other band mates pull Eddie away for a second. The friend you’d set up with Gareth is with them, for some reason.

When they’re far enough away, she speaks first. “She likes you, Eddie,” before he can protest she continues, “trust me. I’m her friend, and I can tell.”

“You should ask her out, dude,” Gareth is next to talk.

His sentence is followed by agreements from everyone else.

“No way, guys. We’ve talked like twice. It’s too soon, okay?”

“No it’s not. Come on, man.”

“Maybe.”

He leaves with that, back to find you. He wants to ask you out, he does. He’s just afraid that you’ll say no, that he’ll scare you off. So, he decides he’ll wait. As long as you need him to.

What he doesn’t know is that you’re eagerly waiting for him to make a move.

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No problem.”

“So, where were we?”

“Mmm, something about…” You glance at his lips, the next word coming out quiet. “I don’t remember.”

His gaze flicks between your eyes and your mouth, he thinks you’re about to kiss him. Maybe he doesn’t have to wait too long after all.

But, before you can make contact, your friend taps your shoulder, whispers something, and runs off to the washroom.

“Oh gosh,” you look at Eddie, an apology written on your face. “I’m sorry, I have to go. My friend, she’s throwing up and-”

“Shh. It’s fine. Until next time, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You stand up, and so does he. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him down for a hug. His arms hold your waist tightly, his head tucked against yours. It was really, really nice. You breathe in his scent, he’s doing the same.

It's a bit before you pull away.

“Bye, Eddie.”

“See ya, pretty girl.”

You find it really hard to walk away from him, but your friend needs help and you’re not one to abandon them, so you leave.

The next time you see Eddie he’s yet again in his element; leading a Dungeons and Dragons campaign with Hellfire.

During Dustin’s latest visit to the arcade, he informed you of the week's meeting, and how excited he was for it. You couldn’t stop yourself from asking if you could tag along, if you could watch. He was quick to say yes, eager to get you and Eddie in the same room again, this time with backup.

You were excited to see Eddie doing something he loves once more. You were excited to see him in general, honestly.

His friends also seemed great, and you wanted to meet them all properly. Dustin assured you they’re great, and that you’ll get along just fine. You believed him.

When Eddie found out you were coming, he was nervous. He didn’t know what you’d think and he didn’t want you to think he was weird. He didn’t want you to look at him the way everyone else did. Like he was a freak, someone who didn’t belong. He never cared so much about what people thought. Not until he met you.

On the night of the campaign, he’s jittery. He fiddles with his rings more than usual, twisting them around his fingers, taking them on and off, anything that will keep his hands occupied. He messed with his hair enough that he had to try to tame it before you arrive.

You leave earlier than Dustin told you to, and you’re not sure if it’s because you just want to make sure you aren’t late or if it’s to get some time alone with Eddie before everyone else gets there. You weren’t used to feeling this way about someone, to have the urge to see them and speak with them as much as you could. To feel a pull.

The drive to Eddie’s trailer is spent psyching yourself up, giving yourself a pep talk and some time to figure out what you’ll even say when you get there. You think you want to flirt with him, more obviously than you have been but you’ve never been good at that. Eye contact and shy smiles were sort of all you could muster.

Parked outside of Eddie’s, you flip down your car mirror to make sure you can deem yourself presentable. You run your pinky under your eyes to smudge your eyeliner out and brush away mascara flakes from the day, you apply a new layer of lip gloss, you’re about to check on your hair when a knock on your car window startles you.

It’s Eddie. Fuck, how much of that did he see, you wonder.

The answer is pretty much all of it. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie went outside as soon as saw your car pull up through his window. He stood on the porch for a second, but decided he’d rather say hi and hear your voice. He thinks it’s really sweet that you felt the need to touch up your makeup before seeing him, even though he thinks it’s completely unnecessary. It’s sweet, nonetheless.

Once your car is shut off, he opens your door and holds out a hand for you, “m’lady.”

“Thanks,” you take it and get out of the car. You decide to pull him into a hug, your arms around his neck to pull him in, just like you did at the Hideout. “Hi, Eddie.”

He hugs you right back, chin perched on your shoulder and nose buried in your hair. He squeezes you as he greets you, “hi, pretty.”

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you to look at your face, the color of your eyes and the way your eyeliner brings them out. He thinks the nickname he’s given you is quite perfect, because you really are pretty. Your signature boots on your feet and the rings on your fingers that match his nicely, chunky and silver.

If anyone was made for him, he’s pretty sure it’s you. He has no idea how to tell you that.

“Come on,” he leads you up the few steps to his front door, opening it and beckoning you inside. He stays by the door while you take a look around, shy about the lack of space he has, but it’s home.

“It looks so cozy in here,” and you’re being honest. The blankets thrown about the living room and the pillows on the couch, the soft lighting and the slightly messy kitchen. It looks lived in and you love that.

“I’m sorry it’s a mess. And kinda small,” he scratches the back of his neck.

“It’s great, Eddie. Honest.”

He smiles at you, close-mouthed and small, but a smile. You hate that he feels bad about where he’s living, that he feels the need to apologize for it. You walk back over to him and tug him to the couch, sitting down and waiting for him to do the same.

You keep your hand on his arm for longer than necessary.

“So, what should I expect? I’ve never actually seen anyone play DnD, only heard Dusty talk about it.”

“It gets kinda loud, but it’s ‘cause we’re all sort of invested in it. I just hope we don’t scare you off because of it.”

“You could never, trust me.”

Eddie’s struck by the sincerity in your tone, the way you keep your eyes on his when you say it. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so convinced that someone wants to stick around, that he’s ever believed them. But you, you have a way of speaking that makes him trust everything you say, soft and kind and it eases him like a glass of water on a hot Hawkins summer day.

He’s sort of lost in you, his eyes flickering across your face and he notes a stray strand of hair that’s fallen over your forehead. He reaches out and pushes it back, his touch light as ever but your skin burns where his fingers were all the same.

You think you’re about to kiss yet again when heavy-handed knocks on the door snap you both out of it.

From then on, the group builds up until everyone is there, gathered around Eddie’s coffee table on pillows while you sit on the couch and watch.

He was right, the atmosphere is rowdy, sort of chaotic but it’s full of passion and you can see why they enjoy the game so much. It’s exciting, even for you: someone who knows almost nothing about it. You can't help but smile when they seem to be winning, to cheer when they do.

Through it all, though, your focus was mainly on Eddie. He was so animated, so lively in his task to narrate the game that it filled the room, a contagious energy that’s undeniable. Every single person in that room was so invested, so thrilled and it was because of him. You were kinda, sort of, maybe in awe of him and the way he moved. The authority he seemed to hold.

Once the session ended, you pulled him aside. “That was something else, Eddie, really.”

“Like in a good way?”

“Of course! I could watch you for hours, you’re so captivating.”

He’s blushing. He’s not the best at taking compliments and coming from you, he’s even more bashful about them.

“Thank you,” he smiles, this time it’s a full one. Boyish and wide.

“Thank you for letting me come watch. I don’t really wanna leave but…I’m working tomorrow.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you were here. I’ll walk you.”

He does, out the door and right to your car. You both pause at your car door. You lean against it, back against your vehicle and Eddie lets his arms rest on the roof of it, caging you between them. It’s a position that keeps you close to each other.

“Thanks again for having me. I had a really good time.”

“You’re sweet. And welcome anytime.”

There’s a stillness in the air, a question lingering of will you or won’t you kiss. Both of you can feel it, neither of you lean in for a while. When Eddie does, he gets nervous at the last second and swerves to kiss your cheek instead. You hide your disappointment.

He then pulls you into the hug that feels so familiar, easy.

“See you, pretty.”

“Bye.”

He lets you go and heads back inside, and you drive away. When he opens the door, everyone’s looking at him.

“What?”

“Fucks sake, Eddie,” Dustin huffs.

“What?” He repeats

“Dude. Really? You didn’t even kiss her?” Jeff is next to talk, as if it’s that easy.

“Did you at least ask her out?” Gareth asks.

“Um,” Eddie’s feeling put on the spot, “no..?”

“Eddie!” They all say it at the same time.

“If you don’t get your shit together and ask her out, I swear.”

Eddie can’t even keep track of who’s saying what, all he knows is that they’re saying ‘it’s so obvious,’ and ‘are you that dumb?’

The one that sticks with him is when Dustin says, “she couldn’t even stop looking at you. Smiling like a fool the entire time. It’s kind of gross.”

Fuck, he likes you so much. The possibility that you like him too is enough to get him to devise a plan. With the help of Hellfire, of course.

Eddie had the plan ready the night of the meeting, but it took him nearly a week to get the courage to actually go through with it. It wasn’t major; he’d show up just before you close at work with some food, talk to you over dinner sort of like a date, seal the deal by asking you out for real. Hopefully kissing you.

You had a long day at the arcade. The people were extra noisy and time went by extra slowly. You couldn’t help but hope that Dustin and his friends would come in. That they’d bring Eddie, too. Every time the door opened you’d check for that familiar head of hair. No luck.

To make it all worse, five minutes before closing you hear the door open once more. You throw your head back and sigh in defeat. Longest day ever.

“Sorry, we’re closing!” You put on your ‘customer service voice,’ cheery and overly kind.

“‘S just me, pretty! Can I come in?”

You perk up right away because that’s Eddie’s voice and you know it. You make your way to the door and the smile that blooms on your face at the sight of him is so wide it’s kind of pathetic. You like him so much.

“Eddie!” You wrap him in a hug.

“Oh,” he’s surprised, you’ve never been so enthusiastic to see anyone, he doesn’t think. He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, “hi.”

You squeeze him tight before pulling away, “sorry. Hi.”

You take a small step back, slightly embarrassed that you pounced on him so quickly, but you’d been wanting to see him all day and here he was. He looked pretty, his hair damp like he showered before coming, his cheeks a little flushed.

“Brought some food. Eat with me?” He holds up the takeout bag held in his hand.

“Yes, please.”

You lock the door and flip the sign to closed, then gesture for him to follow you into the office so you could eat at the desk together. He trails behind you, admires the way you walk and your outfit of the day.

The two of you sit down, and Eddie unpacks the bag, smiling proudly when you tell him he got your order perfectly. He’ll remember to thank Dustin for that later. You eat together and it’s nice, it’s peaceful.

He asks about your day, you tell him and do the same. You could easily get used to this. Eddie with you for dinner, the conversation and the way he’s able to make you laugh without really trying. Everything stays light while you have your meal.

At one point, Eddie leans forward and wipes something away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. Neither of you say anything about it.

Once the table’s cleared, Eddie prepares himself to tell you how he feels, to ask you out. He’s nervous, of course he is, but he feels comfortable around you and if the dinner you just had was in any way similar to what a date would feel like, he needs to ask.

“So,” he starts. “I actually came here to talk to you about something.”

You look at him, showing him he’s got your attention fully and wait for him to continue. You’re really, really hoping he’ll say what you think he’s going to.

“I.. um.” He fumbles with his words, takes a deep breath, and tries again. “I wanted to know if you’ll go out with me? Like a real date?”

“Really? Me?”

You want to say yes, you want to scream it, but you need to be sure that he means it. If his actions tell you anything, he certainly does.

“Are you kidding?” He pulls your chair closer to his, reaches for your hand and holds it. “Yes, you. I like you. An insane amount and I have since that kid dragged me in here. I’m glad he did because we got to talk and I was like, wow, you know? And-”

“Eddie?” You cut him off.

“Yeah?”

“I like you an insane amount, too. Will you kiss me?”

“Holy shit.” He whispers, then, his mouth is on yours.

He kisses you like he’s been starving for it. You know you have. It’s sort of messy, but it’s slow and careful at the same time. He holds your neck softly, just enough to angle your head the way he wants, and you love every second of it.

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way before in his life. No, he knows he hasn’t. Kissing you is addicting to him, and now that he’s done it once he doesn’t know if he can hold himself back. Though, by the way you’re pulling him closer by his shirt, he doesn’t believe he’ll need to with you.

You pull away only when you need the air, your forehead against Eddie’s and hands still holding his shirt. A satisfied smile spreads across your face.

“Does that mean you’ll let me take you out, pretty?” He asks.

“Obviously.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson request #eddie munson reader insert #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things

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atimeofyourlife · 5 months

Text

Cats know best

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: meet cute at work | rated: g | wc: 930 | cw: mention of animal injury and amputation | tags: pre steddie Steve is a vet tech, Eddie brings in his injured cat, who instantly falls in love with Steve.

Steve had always loved his job as a vet tech. Sure, there were the hard times when there was nothing else to be done to help an animal. But it always felt so rewarding when he knew he had made a difference in an animals life, and in the families lives. And everyday was so different, it always kept him on his toes.

He could hear the cat yowling long before he'd even walked into the room. He'd been asked to take this cat, Sabbath, for x-rays on a suspected broken leg, and the vet had warned him that the cat had hissed and swiped at her repeatedly during her examination. He entered the examination room, and on the table was a tiny, but incredibly fluffy black cat.

"This is Steve, one of our vet techs, he's just going to take Sabbath along to get those x-rays done." The vet said to Sabbath's owner.

"Hi," Steve nodded to the man, before slowly approaching the cat, with his hand outstretched for her to sniff and get used to him before he took her away. "Hi, Sabbath. Are you going to let me take you for the x-rays?"

Sabbath sniffed Steve's fingers, then, surprising everyone, rubbed against them, a loud purr filling the room. Steve scratched her ears a little. "Aren't you just the sweetest thing?"

"She never lets most people touch her. She just screams and hisses at them. And I think she's only purred for me once." Her owner, a man with long dark hair, said, sounding surprised.

"Some cats are like that. They only like very few people." The vet replied as Steve loaded Sabbath into a carrier and left the room.

Taking the x-rays was much easier than with most cats. Sabbath didn't wriggle or squirm on the table, staying exactly in the position Steve put her in, and purring every time Steve moved her. While he worked, he thought about what the owner had said. If she was really that bad with most people, he knew he would end up doing a lot of her care, but he didn't mind because she was so cute. After he was done, he popped her back in the carrier, and headed back to the room so the vet could decide the right treatment.

Sabbath's leg was broken, and pretty badly at that. So, it was agreed that amputation was the best route to take, and would be performed first thing the following morning. And, it didn't take long for her to prove that her owner's words were true. In just a few minutes, Steve saw her hiss and swipe at five other members of staff, managing to scratch one. He tried to stay close, so he could comfort or distract her as others continued to work.

"I think she needs a note on her kennel to leave all her care for you." Another tech said as Steve moved Sabbath into a kennel after administering the prescribed pain meds.

"I guess she's chosen me." Steve replied as he placed her in the bed and rubbed her ears, getting a soft purr in return.

Over the several days Sabbath had to stay in for observations, Steve ended up being pretty much her sole carer, as she would hiss at anyone else that got near her kennel. At day two after her amputation, she was making little hops so she could rub her head against Steve's face any time he opened the door. At day four, she was trying to climb onto his shoulder. Purring and chirping at him the entire time while he was trying to feed her, or clean the litter box, or administer the next dose of medication.

"I'm gonna miss you when you're gone." He said as he lifted her out of the kennel, her snuggling into his arms instantly. He was at the end of his shift, and she was scheduled to go home the next afternoon. He never normally got so attached to patients, but he had absolutely fallen in love with Sabbath. If she didn't have an owner, he would have looked into adopting her. He stroked her back and kissed her head before putting her back in her bed.

The day had come for Sabbath to go home. The vet had already gone into the consultation room, giving the owner the instructions for the care. Steve had the task of taking her through. He tried to put her in a carrier, but she struggled to stay in his arms, so he gave up and held her close, carrying the carrier with his free hand. He went to place her on the table, but she dragged herself up to his shoulder and purred in his ear.

"Uh, as you can see, she has really taken to Steve." The vet said.

"She's got good taste." The owner replied. "I- uh."

"I. It's fine." Steve said, moving closer to him, crouching down to try and get the cat off his shoulder. "Come on, don't you want to see your dad?"

Sabbath finally hopped down into her owners lap, but when Steve tried to move away, she stuck her claws into his scrub pants, holding on so he couldn't move.

"I think she's trying to tell us something. I'm Eddie." The owner- Eddie- said, trying to unhook Sabbath's paw.

"Steve. And I would definitely agree with that."

By the time Sabbath had to come back in for a check up and to have her stitches removed, Steve had become much more acquainted with her. And with her handsome owner.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #pre steddie #steddieholidaydrabbles #stranger things #atimeofyourwrites

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ashwhowrites · 8 months

Note

I just saw you wrote a Dad's best friend! Hopper, and I was wondering if you could write a Dad's best friend! Eddie Munson x Harrington! Reader, like what would happen if Steve's daughter falls for Eddie, who's her dad's friend, and maybe Steve finds out about it, Idk, I just thought abt that

.....I kinda love this? I wrote this kinda turned on so it's very sexual

I'm not going to try to figure out the correct math for the age difference so the reader is of age and that's what we are going with

⚠️smutty, age difference

Dad's best friend

Steve and Eddie went back to high school, but the friendship died out after the events of the upside down. Eddie moved out of Hawkins and went for the rockstar life. Steve stayed back and had a family of his own.

Steve hadn't seen Eddie in almost twenty years, but they kept in touch. Eddie wasn't married or had any kids, just touring the world. Steve had a daughter, Y/N. And she reminded Steve of Eddie a lot. She liked the darker colors, listening to her music on the highest volume, and pushing Steve's buttons.

But when Eddie called asking for a place to crash for a while, Steve didn't waste a second to take him in.

~~~

Steve sat next to Eddie at the kitchen counter as Eddie told him stories about life on the road. Eddie was in the middle of a story when a younger girl walked into the kitchen, coming in from the front door. A tiny skirt with lacey tights that disappeared into black boots. A tight tank top showing off her chest perfectly. Eddie had a feeling he shouldn't be looking, Was this Steve's girlfriend or something? Eddie tried to look away, but his eyes ran down the girl's body, his jeans tightening when he saw a tattoo lingering up her thigh.

"Um Y/N, would you mind changing? I have a guest here." Steve groaned, not surprised by his daughter's choice of clothes.

"Seems to me that he isn't bothered." She smirked, a wink in Eddie's direction. But listened to her dad's orders and headed upstairs to change. Eddie felt his face turn red as he was caught. A hand in his lap as he readjusted himself.

"Sorry about her, she likes to push boundaries." Steve joked, standing up as he grabbed himself another beer.

"No worries. Is she your girlfriend?" Eddie asked the question that was stuck in his head. Steve always got the hot ones. And this girl was by far the hottest girl Eddie had seen. And he's slept with countless women and men on his tour. And none matched her.

Steve had an uncomfortable look on his face as he said, "No...she's my daughter." Eddie nearly spit out the beer he was sipping on. His eyes bulging out of his head.

"She's what? She doesn't look...what?" Eddie was lost. She didn't resemble Steve at all.

"She looks just like her mom, but we got a divorce and I got full custody when Y/N was ten. I don't think she enjoys living with her dad all the time." Steve joked.

Eddie's head continued spinning all night. He stayed in the guest bedroom, the door cracked. He could see her door through the small opening. Band posters covered her door and pictures of her friends. Eddie hated the way he felt his cock growing hard as he thought of her behind the door.

It was wrong. She was Steve's daughter and too young. But the small skirt and tattoo flashed through Eddie's mind as he slipped his hand into his boxers. He closed his eyes as he pictured her. The way she'd look riding him in that tiny skirt, having to stay quiet so Steve didn't hear them. Eddie bit his lip so his moans didn't leave his mouth. Working himself closer to an orgasm, lost in the feeling. Cumming in his hand as he breathed through his orgasm. He opened his eyes and sat up. He planned to go to the bathroom to clean up but he froze when he saw her standing at his door, a smirk creeping through the tiny crack of the door. He was frozen as she walked back to her room and closed the door.

~~~

The next morning Eddie walked into the kitchen, Steve was making breakfast. Eddie greeted him as he sat at the table. A hot cup of coffee was placed in front of him, pink nails caught his eye. He looked up and there she was. That same smirk on her face as she sat across from him. She didn't say anything and neither did he. But his eyes devoured the way she looked in her long T-shirt and tiny shorts.

"How was the first night? Is the bed comfy enough?" Steve asked, placing down the eggs as he took a seat at the end of the table.

Eddie blushed at the question, nodding his head as he sipped his coffee. "Yeah, it was fine."

"Y/N didn't keep you up, did she? She likes to stay up late and make noise." Steve joked, punching his daughter's arm lightly.

"I didn't keep him up..on purpose." She smiled.

~~~

Within a month, she was driving Eddie insane. Her small outfits, walking around in towels and making comments. Eddie felt like he was being tortured but he loved it. But there were moments where it felt like they were connecting. Conversations on the front step as they shared a cigarette. Movie nights where Steve passed out a minute in, so they talked through the rest of it. She played her games, but she also opened up to him and he saw all the layers that were made of her.

"I'll be back on Monday, please be nice to Eddie and help him out," Steve said as he grabbed his suitcase.

"I will!" Y/N promised as she hugged her dad goodbye. Once he walked out the door, she raced to her bedroom. Eddie was out at the moment, and it gave her the perfect amount of time.

~~~

Eddie pulled into the driveway, a little confused to see Steve's car was gone. He walked in and yelled out for anyone, but no one replied. He shrugged his shoulders as he walked up to his room. He opened his door but froze on the spot.

Y/N sat on her knees on his bed. A red lacey bra on her chest and red underwear to match. Red bows on her thighs as it connected to her garter. Fishnets covered her legs. She leaned over so her breasts practically spilled out of the bra.

"Cat got your tongue?" She asked, a pout on her face as she sat up.

Eddie was trying his best to look somewhere else, but he wanted to soak her in. Her skin looked soft and warm. Her skin glowed and looked perfect, he wanted to destroy it with bite marks.

"What are you doing?" Eddie finally got out. She laughed as she stood up. Now walking towards him.

"Trying to fuck you, isn't it obvious?" She joked, her hands running up and down his chest. She teased him with her fingernails as she turned her head to stare at him.

"Your dad.." he started but Y/N cut him off. "He's gone for the weekend. Don't worry about him. I know you want this and I know you think of me when you jerk off."

Eddie hated that he was caught. "I think of you when I touch myself too." She whispered as she reached her hands into his hair. Tugging slightly, falling into the sound of his grunt. Eddie's mind was going blank, just the images of how she looked fucking herself to him. Just a few feet away from his room.

"You're his daughter, this can't happen." He finally got out, removing her hands from him. Forcing himself to step back and collect his thoughts. He was older and he needed to act like it.

"Forget about him! I like you and you like me, don't you?" She asked. Eddie knew he did, it went way past sexual. She was smart and creative. He loved spending time with her, the nights she was sweet and they just got to talk. He learned so much about her and he felt himself falling for her. But he couldn't do that to Steve.

The silence was eating her alive. Did she read him wrong? She could have sworn he was interested in her. The way he stared at her when she talked, the way he always gave her more of the blanket during movie nights. She had a crush on him and she made it obvious. He never seemed uncomfortable or wanted to turn her away. Until now, at least.

"You don't, do you?" She whispered. Embarrassment fled through her body like a flood. She felt like an idiot. Standing there in lingerie she purposely bought for her dad's fucking best friend. How could she be so dumb?

She felt the need to cry, but she forced it back as she quickly pushed past him and raced into her bedroom. She slammed the door and raced to change into normal clothes. She felt the tears falling as she yanked the lingerie off of herself. She felt like the material was burning her.

She froze when she heard knocks on her door.

"Y/N, can we talk?" Usually his voice made her melt, but it made her feel cold.

"No" she spat as she shoved the lingerie into the trash.

"Please? I'm sorry! We just can't happen. I'm your dad's friend and he took me in. I can't fuck that up and I can't ruin your relationship with him. You deserve someone who is put together and someone your age." He tried to explain, but all she heard was the rejection. He didn't like her. He didn't want her. All those nights where she thought he felt something wasn't real.

Eddie sighed as he heard silence on the other side of the door. He was an idiot. He knew he was making the right choice for her. She was young and didn't know what she was getting into with him.

~~~

Eddie didn't see her at all the next morning, she never left her room. Not for food, the bathroom, or anything. He knocked every hour but nothing. He was really worried about her, but he knew it wasn't his place to worry about her.

It was Saturday night and Eddie ordered a pizza, he got one for her as well, if she made her way downstairs. As he set it on the counter, the house phone rang. He picked it up once he saw Steve's name.

"Hey! Is Y/N there? She won't pick up her phone." Steve said, Eddie quickly talked to him and walked up the stairs.

Knocking on her door, "Your dad is on the phone!" He yelled through the door. And to his surprise, she opened the door.

A dead look on her face as she grabbed the phone and slammed the door. But Eddie was confused about her outfit. She was dressed up. She was in a tiny black dress, tights and those boots again. Her makeup is done with red lips and winged eyeliner. Her hair rested on her shoulders.

He waited outside the door, hearing her hang up as she opened the door. Knocking right into Eddie, not expecting him to still be there.

"eavesdropping much?" She spat as she walked past him and headed for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" He asked, following her down the stairs. Hating that his cock was growing hard under his sweatpants as the dress rolled up her thighs.

"A party." She kept it short as she grabbed her keys.

"Do you plan to drink? I can pick you up." Eddie offered, but the same dead look was on her face.

"I can take care of myself, and I don't need a babysitter." She spat as she went out the door.

~~~

Eddie tried to wait up in case she called. But it was nearly two in the morning and he was exhausted. He cleaned up the kitchen and living room. And headed to his room.

He fell asleep fast, waking up when he heard the front door slam and giggles echoing through the empty house. He sighed as he rolled out of bed, throwing on a shirt. He opened his door and caught the shadows of two people bumping around as they worked their way into her room.

He had a sick feeling in his stomach and a feeling of absolute rage filling his bones. He flicked on the hallway light, his eyes glaring as he took in the boy who was groping her with no care in the world. Her dress flipped up, and Eddie could see the familiar laced underwear from the other night. It was almost like a punch in his gut. He didn't like knowing she dressed up for someone else, the same way she tried for him.

"Privacy please." She snickered, shoving the boy into her room as she slammed the door behind her.

Eddie wanted to break down the door and grab that asshole by his throat. And beat the shit out of him, but he couldn't. He needed to get his jealousy in check.

He shut his door and got back in bed. Within seconds he could hear her moaning down the hallway. She was as angelic as he thought she would be. She sounded memorizing, he almost forgot that he wasn't pulling the sounds from her. But the reminder traveled to his ears when he heard her moaning a name that wasn't his. He couldn't tell if she was purposely torturing him or if she was truly having the best sex of her life. He prayed it was the first one. He prayed that she wasn't enjoying a second of it. That she was picturing Eddie instead. Her eyes were closed and she drowned in the fantasy of Eddie touching her in the ways they both wanted more than anything.

~~~

The next morning, Eddie was worried about seeing her. But Steve came home tomorrow and he'd instantly pick up on the weird energy between them.

So he told himself to be an adult and leave his room. He heard sounds in the kitchen, he slowly walked towards the sounds. Breathing a sigh of relief to see her alone she mixed her coffee. Eddie felt a lump in his throat as he saw the marks all over her skin. The skin Eddie wanted to mark as his. Now it was covered in some asshole from a party that probably didn't treasure her body the way it deserved.

She didn't say a word, and neither did he. He slid next to her to make his coffee but stopped when she placed the mug in front of him. Already filled and made the way he liked. He smiled at the action and went to say thank you but she already walked out.

He quickly followed her, stopping her bedroom door before it shut.

"Can we talk?" He asked again

She sighed and walked to her bed. She sat on it as she sipped her coffee. He followed behind her. His stomach was in knots as he saw her dress and lingerie scattered all around the floor.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." He admitted, keeping his eyes on her as she looked down at her cup. She shrugged her shoulders, "I kinda hurt myself, Eddie. It's okay." She said

"Why do you think that?" He asked, he wasn't sure what she meant by hurting herself.

"I mean that I had this whole idea that you liked me and you were attracted to me. I thought maybe you wanted me in the same way I wanted you. But I figured you didn't want to make any moves since you didn't want to be disrespectful to my dad. So I thought if I made the move for us...I don't know." She scoffed. Hearing herself out loud reminded her how dumb she was acting.

"But, you turned me away," she said sadly, finally looking at him. His eyes stared into hers, seeing the slight water that was filling. "I bought the sexiest lingerie I could find for you, and made an absolute fool of myself by throwing myself at you like a desperate whore. " she laughed at herself, her eyes now back on the cup. "I hurt myself by thinking you fell for me too."

"Y/N..." he tried but she cut him off. "But you were right. I mean my dad would never agree to this. He would hate me even more than he does now. And I'd make him hate you, and you are the only friend he has now. I need to stop ruining his life." She cried, wiping her tears as she cuddled into herself.

"He doesn't hate you at all. He adores you." Eddie tried but she shook her head. "He does! And he just wants to protect you."

"Thanks." She smiled. "He's back tomorrow so I guess I should clean up." She said, Eddie took the hint and got up. He walked to the door but slowly turned to her. The sight of her bruised skin and clothes on the floor reminded him of what happened last night. A reminder that she'd always be someone else's.

"Y/N?" She looked up, a small smile on her face as she encouraged him to talk. She watched as he set down his cup, walked to her, and placed hers on the desk beside her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, but he didn't say a word. Just looking into her eyes as he pushed her back on the bed, she sat still. Praying if she didn't move a muscle, he wouldn't stop what he was going to do.

Her whole body fired up like electricity as he crawled on top of her and smashed his lips on hers. He hungrily tasted her and gripped her hips as he grinded against her. Eddie never felt this way for anyone, ever. It's been years of being lonely on the road, wishing for someone to be there with him through everything. If that was her, he wasn't going to let Steve stop him.

She was melting into her sheets. Everything she was dying to have was happening. The feeling of his lips attacking hers, his cock rubbing against her thigh. His smell filled her nose. Her hands traveled to his hair, yanking it as she shoved her tongue in his mouth. His hard body was against hers as his tongue moved inside her mouth.

He pulled away, breathing heavily as his forehead rested against hers. She stared at him in awe as she breathed against him.

"Sure this is what you want?" He whispered, his eyes soaking in her face. His right hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin softly. She was beautiful.

"Yes." She said instantly, her hands moving under his shirt, feeling his forbidden skin under her nails.

He pulled back and removed his shirt, she followed his movement and yanked off hers. Leaving her in her underwear as she watched him remove the rest of his clothes.

She felt her insides burn and cunt twitch as she looked at his hard cock. She could feel her mouth-watering, his hands yanking off her underwear and shoving her thighs apart. She watched as he got on his knees, dragging her closer to his mouth. She was panting before his lips even touched her. He spit on her clit and rubbed his spit around. She was clawing at her sheets, he didn't waste a second before his tongue was moving against her. He ate her out like he'd been starving for months. She was a panting mess underneath him, her teasing act out the window as she felt her body disappearing.

"Jesus Eddie." She moaned she's never felt such pleasure before and he's been eating her out for a solid two minutes at most.

Hearing his name fall from her lips had his cock twitching. He almost felt like he could cum from eating her out. She tasted amazing. He didn't give a fuck about letting guys her age have her. They wouldn't know how to please her. He knew he could make her cum better than anyone. He was lost in how wet she was, wanting to suck her dry.

"Gonna!" She squirmed, her thighs clamping around his head as she came. Eddie didn't pull away, continuing his attack on her cunt as she tried to pull him off. But the longer he went, the weaker she became. Lying dead against the bed as she twitched and squirmed from his tongue. Almost like she's done when he decides.

After what felt like hours, he pulled away. His chin soaked as he smiled up at her. She couldn't tell if she was smiling back at him or not, she couldn't feel a thing.

She felt him moving her body further up the bed, her head against the pillows as he was on top of her again. His forehead was against hers as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. She felt her eyes rolling in the back of her head as her cunt stretched to take him in. He kissed her nose softly as he pushed himself in. Giving her a second to adjust. She breathed through her nose as she gripped his bicep.

"Look at you, taking me so well." He praised, kissing her lips. He waited a few more seconds before he started moving in and out of her. Clenching his jaw as he felt her cunt sucking him back in.

"Faster, please." She whined. He smashed his lips against hers again as he thrust inside of her. He was going fast and hard, but she loved it. She clawed at his back, moaning as he hit every spot inside of her effortlessly. He filled her perfectly, it made his head spin.

He pulled away to move his attention to her neck. Jealousy in his bones when he spotted the marks. She gasped as he lifted her leg and put it over his shoulder. Somehow pounding into her harder. She couldn't speak, or form any thoughts. He was fucking her straight dead in the head. He latched his mouth right on top of the hickey, forming his own on top of it. He knew it was sore by the hissing that left her lips. But he didn't care. He would cover every mark she had with his own.

She felt a small smirk forming on her face, realizing he was putting his mark over the ones from before. She found his jealousy incredibly attractive. And she loved that it made him fuck her harder.

His mouth stayed on her neck, as his hand moved down to her clit. Rubbing her clit fast as he felt himself growing close. Her mouth dropped open as she felt herself clenching around him. His fingers on her clit was practically dragging the orgasm out of her.

She couldn't even form the words, just digging her nails into his skin as she soaked his cock in her cum. Panting against him her thighs shook.

Eddie immediately came right after, feeling her cum soak him completely, and sent him over. He trusted slowly inside of her as he came. Emptying himself inside of her, he pecked her lips as he slid out.

"Oh fuck." He moaned, leaning back on his legs as he watched his cum leak out of her. He pushed it back inside with his fingers, loving the way she shook and tried to swat his hand away. He leaned into her, "Shh, pretty girls deserve to keep all my cum." She nodded as she allowed him to finger the cum back inside of her. She felt used and abused and loved it.

The sun was bright through her curtains, framing Eddie in a perfect way that she couldn't take her eyes off.

"You're so pretty." She sighed, her hands tracing his face. He laughed as he grabbed her hands from his face and kissed her knuckles.

"You're pretty too." He said.

He rested next to her, bringing her in his arms. Her back to his chest as she closed her eyes.

"I fell for you too." He whispered.

~~~

"Eddie! He's coming home any minute!" She laughed, trying to remove Eddie's arms from her. But he was stronger than she was. His arms wrapped around her waist as he kissed her neck.

"Fine fine!" He pouted, allowing her to put space between them as she finished making dinner. Eddie moved to the table and sat down. Watching her make their plates for dinner. Her marks were covered in makeup, not wanting to give her dad a heart attack, but Eddie missed seeing them.

"I'm home!" Steve entered, a smile on his face as Y/N hugged him.

"Perfect timing! I just finished dinner for us!" She said, placing the plates down on the table.

"I'll bring these to your room, you sit and eat." Y/N offered. Steve looked at her weirdly but accepted the offer.

He sat down at the table and dug into his plate. Eddie got up to grab a beer, stretching to get it off the top shelf.

Steve's eyes landed on Eddie's back, the bottom of his shirt rising, and red scratches were all down his back.

"I hope you didn't fuck someone with my daughter in the house." Steve scolded, his eyes hard as Eddie froze.

"Excuse me?" Eddie chuckled, turning around to see a displeased Steve.

"Your back? It's covered in marks. I'm fine with you having people over, but please don't have sex with my daughter across the hall." Steve said.

"Right....don't have sex with your daughter...when she's across the hall," Eddie repeated.

What Steve didn't know couldn't kill him, right?

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @inesven

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x harrington!reader #older eddie munson x reader #ashwhowrites

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Pocket Angel

Bucky x reader

Okay, SO CUTE LOVE THIS. I decided to do a civilian reader for a change, I wasn’t sure if you wanted avenger reader, I can def do an alternate one with that later on hehe

Warnings: FLUFFFFF

Word count: 2.8k

A lil drabble

A lil part 2

“Have y’all noticed how he’s less grumpy? He hasn’t threatened to kill me all day, and quite frankly I’m a little upset he hasn’t paid attention to me” Sam mused, whispering to Steve, both men eyeing Bucky suspiciously while he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, sans his signature grumpy pout.

Bucky tried his best to keep his face neutral, but on the inside, he was giggling like a school boy. Just a few more hours and he’d be able to see you, hold you, kiss you; he had to keep his hand on his knee from bouncing in excitement.

He felt his heart leap, seeing a new message pop up on his phone. It was a picture of you wrapped up under a fuzzy blanket, wearing his Henley, the bear he got you tucked under your arm with the caption Missing my actual teddy bear :( His heart melted, looking at your pouty face, the sweet face that reminded him of home. He considered typing out a message, but decided against it, wanting to surprise you instead.

He hadn’t been away from you for too long; the mission had only taken a little over a week but you missed each other like crazy. Bucky thought about telling the others about you but part of him liked keeping you a secret from the rest of the world. It was like having a little angel in his pocket only he knew about, one that he could kiss and cuddle and keep all to himself.

The other reason the relationship had remained a secret was mostly because he was shy to even bring the topic up, plus Bucky never thought about dating, for a multitude of reasons. Aside from the danger and all that, he just didn’t consider himself dating material. Grumpy. Old. Staring problem. Didn’t know what a hash tag was. It was a miracle the team hadn’t shipped him off to a retirement home.

He hadn’t planned to start dating when he met you. It started with a trip to a small bakery after he was given the task to pick up Sam’s birthday cake two years ago. He knew he was a goner as soon as he saw the sweet girl at the counter, smiling at him. He couldn’t help but smile back seeing your bright eyes, and a touch of flour on your nose. You slipped him an extra cup cake because the blue frosting matched his dreamy eyes. You then clapped a hand over your mouth when you realized you’d said the last bit out loud. You were fucking adorable.

He found himself going back often, always leaving with extra goodies you’d sneak into his bag. Of course he insisted on taking you out as a thank you for always giving him something extra. And then you thanked him with a kiss on his cheek. So he returned your kiss with one to your nose. One to his chin. One to your forehead. And finally the sweetest one with your lips pressed together, standing outside of your door, reluctant to let go of each other. It didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, his adorable little secret.

Sam’s face scrunched watching Bucky stare at his phone, trying to discreetly look at the picture you sent again. His cheeks heated up thinking about the way you’d attack him with kisses and cling onto him like a koala bear whenever he got back from missions.

The second the jet landed, he was speed walking to his room, again trying his best to keep a smile off his face. He quickly threw off his clothes, jumping into the shower and throwing on a clean set of clothes with in minutes moving as fast as he could so he could see you.

Everyone sat around the living room, sneaking glances at the all black outfit he had on, classic broody face, his bike helmet tucked under his hand as he left the building without making eye contact.

“Alright, what’s going on with Barnes?” Tony looked to Steve who looked as lost as everyone else. “He’s been quieter than normal, disappearing into the night, coming back in the mornings”

Steve shrugged; Bucky hadn’t told him anything out of the ordinary, though he did seem to be less irritable. Bucky became the topic of conversation as they tried to figure out what Bucky was up to.

“Maybe he’s seeing someone?”

“Who would date a silent moody staring machine”

“I mean if I was a girl…”

“What about if you were a girl…”

“He’s stares a lot but he’s hot! I could see how the whole lost puppy eyes and metal arm might be appealing”

“Puppy eyes?”

“He looks like one 90% of the time. Girls dig that; now pair that with his arm”

“You need help. Professional help”

“You’re telling me, if you were a girl, you wouldn’t hit that?”

“Ok ok, we can all agree he’s hot but a girlfriend? Don’t you have to be like…nice…smile…let people touch you without threatening to kill them?”

The team hummed in agreement, Bucky wasn’t the girlfriend type.

*****

You were wrapped up in your blanket with heard a knock at the door. It was late, you typically didn’t get visitors around this hour, unless…

You sprinted to the door, squealing and jumping into Bucky’s arms, nearly knocking over your sweet boyfriend. Bucky chuckled, burying his face in your neck, inhaling the sweet scene of vanilla that always lingered on your skin.

“Hey my angel” Bucky’s thick arms wrapped around you, sweeping you off your feet, kicking the door closed with his boot before carrying you over to your room. He peppered kisses all over your face till he reached your bed, flopping on top of you, pulling you close to him.

“I missed you so much babygirl”

*****

The team gathered downstairs, surprised to see Bucky arriving in the same outfit he was in yesterday. He wordlessly passed by them without sparing them a glance, the collar of his leather jacket coving his neck. Odd.

“So…what do we think he was up to now?”

“He’s in a biker gang”

“He’s in a cult”

“What’s wrong with you man?”

“More plausible than him having a girlfriend”

“Professional help. I’ll schedule you an appointment”

*****

Everyone gathered around the living room for a movie night, and while Bucky desperately wanted to ditch them and see you instead, he knew they were getting suspicious. He huffed, his arms crossed, pouting the entire time sitting on a bean bag while Steve bit his lip, trying not to laugh at the mini internal tantrum Bucky was throwing by himself.

Bucky groaned, getting up to grab another beer, reminding himself he’d be able to see you soon. Another hour of this and he’d be able to sneak out and cuddle you again, just one more hour. His phone rang, the lock screen lighting up on the coffee table. His phone never rang. Sam sat up wide eyed looking at the name that lit up on the top.

Pocket Angel

Everyone looked at each other wide eyed as the phone continued to ring.

“Answer it!” Tony hissed, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Do I look like I want to die?” Sam dead panned but he was curious too. And it was still ringing. And then stopped. And then a text message popped up.

See you soon bubba, I miss you x

“Oh my God, he actually has a girl friend!!” Sam howled, clapping a hand over his mouth when Bucky walked back, his eyes growing wide when he realized he left his phone back and there was a missed call.

“Whose your little pocket angel?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows with a shit eating grin on his face. Everyone stared at him, their eyes twinkling, smirking waiting for him to answer. Bucky’s face blushed a deep pink, stuttering, looking at the floor.

“I-I’m in a cult” Bucky groaned internally, you’re a trained assassin you absolute fuckwit.

“You’re in a cult…”

“Yup”

“Told you so”

“Will you shut up, tell us more. What is this cult about, what’s it called, whose the angel-

“I’m the angel?” Bucky rubbed a hand over his face; he didn’t even know why he was still trying to defend this.

“We know you have a girlfriend punk” Steve snorted while Bucky shifted, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “No wonder you’ve been sneaking around everywhere”

A small smile crept on Bucky’s lips, immediately vanishing when everyone collectively aww’d and whistled at him.

“Awwww he’s blushing!” Sam clapped his hands wildly; cackling, absolutely loving the way Bucky was getting more and more flustered.

“Fine, I’m seeing someone, can we please drop it” He grumbled, his cheeks still dusted pink.

“Absolutely not, who is she, why haven’t we met her yet and when do we get to meet her” Tony gave Bucky a pointed look while everyone else nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, who’s the mystery girl who’s putting up with your mood ass”

“How long have you been seeing her for anyway”

“2 years” He mumbled, only to be met with a bunch of yelling and 3 cushions thrown to his head.

“WHAT THE HELL BARNES”

“2 YEARS?! 2 FUCKING YEARS?”

“Invite her for the next movie night, come on, please” Nat pleaded. She loved the team, she really did but it would be nice to have another girl around for a change.

“If I invite her over, will you all shut up?” Bucky huffed, running off to his room, while everyone else cheered. A teensy tiny very itty bitty part of him was secretly excited for you to meet everyone.

*****

Movie night

Bucky left the compound on his bike to get you. The team started laying out snacks, everyone giddy with excitement to meet the one who was able to make the super soldier blush. As much as they loved teasing Bucky, everyone had agreed amongst themselves to be on their best behaviour. They figured Bucky was still working on showing his emotions and physical touch was still probably sensitive area for him. However he acted around you wouldn’t be any of their business.

“So we all agree, no teasing him, no making them uncomfortable, no one’s going to call him out for being grumpy?”

Everyone nodded, grinning at each other when they heard the faint rumble of his bike pull to the compound.

You clambered off his bike, nervously clutching onto the bag of cookies you had baked for everyone. Of course you knew who the avengers were, and you’d heard plenty about them from Bucky. He tolerated loved them, you knew you didn’t have to be scared but you were anyway.

“You okay angel?” Bucky felt your hands tremble in his as you made your way towards the entrance.

“Just nervous” You whispered, as Bucky put his arm around you, kissing the top of your head.

“They’ll love you babydoll, nothing to be nervous about. I’m the one who should be nervous; they’ll see what a sweet heart you are and wonder what you’re doing with me”

“Nope, I love you too much” You giggled, leaning into him as he led you through the compound towards the living room where everyone was gathered. They turned around, staring at you wide eyed, poorly masking the shock on their face. They weren’t sure what they were expecting but this wasn’t it.

“Everyone, this is my sweet angel, y/n” First of all, Bucky was smiling. An actual smile. He had his arm around you, gently stroking your waist as he gazed at you with heart eyes.

“Hi” You were tucked into Bucky’s side, smiling shyly at them, your hand resting on his chest.

Everyone greeted you, blinking, trying to hide surprise. They honestly couldn’t tell what was more shocking; he called you angel, he was smiling, he had his arm around you, he had heart eyes for you, what the hell? They were definitely not prepared for what was to come later that night.

Also you were adorable. You were a little ray of sunshine and it was just all too much for the team to handle at once.

“You guys can start the movie, we’ll grab a few snacks and join in a sec” Bucky led you to the kitchen while everyone was struggling to keep from screaming.

“He called her angel?!” Nat squealed, unable to contain her excitement.

“She’s so fucking cute!” Sam sat flabbergasted, glancing over his shoulder, watching Bucky hug you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder, face buried in your neck.

You returned with the cookies on a plate (immediately all gone within seconds), sitting on the couch with Bucky as the movie started to play. You kept a bit of space between Bucky, not sure if he’d be comfortable with sitting to close to him when everyone else was round. You squeaked, feeling his arm pull you onto his lap, kissing the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you to cuddle you. You giggled, feeling his beard tickle your skin as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Bucky it tickles” You whispered, squirming in his lap, to which he chuckled, holding onto you tighter.

“Too bad, want to cuddle with my baby” He smirked, peppering your cheek with kisses, completely in his own world with you. He cupped your cheek, pressing a sweet soft peck to your lips before you snuggled against him, relaxing in his hold.

No one. Absolutely no one paid attention to the movie, except you. Bucky’s focus was entirely on you, hugging you close to him, kissing you every chance he could get. Everyone else’s focus was on the two of you, specifically on Bucky and how love drunk he was for you.

“You want anything angel, I can make you some hot chocolate” Bucky wouldn’t have even been able to tell you the genre of the movie they were watching, all he wanted to do was cuddle with you and take care of you all night. “Come doll, I’ll make you some”

Bucky effortlessly lifted you into his arms, carrying you into the kitchen, setting you onto the counter while he got started on heating up some milk.

“Who the hell is this guy” Tony hissed, whispering to Clint watching Bucky tuck a hair behind your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist, whispering in your ear.

“Seriously, can someone explain?” Tony looked to Steve who was blushing, watching Bucky swipe whipped cream onto your nose, kissing it off right after.

“He wasn’t like this in the 40’s, I can’t explain this”

When you both returned, Bucky pulled you into his lap again, his lips brushing your cheek.

“I love you” He whispered, while you giggled, your eyes still on the screen, his eyes on you. You hummed, your face heating up when he hugged you tighter.

“Doll, I love you” He nuzzled his nose into your neck, trailing kisses onto your skin.

“Bucky, watch the movie” You hissed, trying to contain you laugh over the way your needy boyfriend pouted, wanting you to say it back. He cupped your face to make you look at him, his cheeks flushed, a goofy grin on his face because he was so utterly in love with you. And you where here. With his family. He no longer had to keep it a secret, he could show you off to the entire world, his perfect sweet angel.

“I love you y/n”

“I love you my Bucky baby” You whispered, smiling softly, wrapping your arms around him, kissing his forehead before snuggling into his chest, sleep starting to creep up on you. You let out a little yawn, to which Bucky grabbed the fuzzy throw blanket, pulling it on top of you.

“You sleepy baby?” You shook your head, though you closed your eyes, the warmth of his arms and the steady beat of his heart started to lull you to sleep. Bucky smiled at the way you were curled up on him, kissing the top of your head, stroking your hair while you slept. “M’so lucky to have you angel”

A whimper and obscene snorting noise interrupted everyone’s focus from you and Bucky, Tony, Nat and Clint, turning around to see Steve reach for the box of tissues, grabbing one before passing it to Sam, quickly dabbing his eyes and blowing his nose.

“For fucks sake, are you two crying?!” Clint’s face scrunched up looking at Sam trying to discreetly wipe his eyes, sniffling into his tissue.

“I-It’s the movie” He stuttered, Steve nodding his head vigoursly in agreement.

“We were watching Rush Hour, what the hell were you crying about” Tony snorted, turning off the TV and the movie came to an end. The team looked back to the couch where Bucky had also fallen asleep, with you tucked safely in his arms.

“They’re so cute” Nat gushed, seeing you nuzzle into Bucky’s chest even in your sleep.

“So that’s his little secret” Clint mused, as everyone started to quietly get up, not watching to disturb you both.

“You okay there ice pop?” Tony snickered looking at Steve who was looking at you both like a proud mother hen. Steve nodded, sniffling watching the two of you snuggle each other, blissfully in love. The name Bucky had for you was perfect, you really were his angel.

Adding this mini bonus because I can see it happening, @anghstybean you inspired this 🥺

He’s such a teddy bear.

Imagine you come around the compound more and the team sees just how soft he is for you.

Sam and Tony collectively lose their minds when they hear you call him Bucky bear, baby bear, cinnamon roll, Jamie, he’s too in love with you to care that they call him that now too.

Imagine the hydra agents face when Tony tells baby bear to go to the west wing and they see all 6ft + of the winter soldier burst through the door.

Pillow forts. Esp after missions.

He cooks for you on his days off (and it’s amazing, Sam’s sister has taught him a few things)

Foot rubs. Back rubs. He kisses each toe while gently squeezing your feet. He grazes your back while lying down on his chest, the both of you watching TV.

And it never gets easier for the team to watch because just when they think they’ve seen it all, Bucky does some cute shit and their surprised all over again.

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @needybabygirlstuff @goldylions @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @high-functioning-lokipath @elle14-blog1

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