#which is why he feels that way about steve. AND steve is keeping this whole system thing under raps except not really

[queen-of-the-avengers]

After So Long

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: angst

Summary: You're forced to go back to the one place you tried to hard to get away from. You're forced to contront the memories you left behind.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: protection (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

It seemed like wherever Bucky went, Steve and Sam followed. You thought it’d be nice to go shopping at your local mall with Bucky since he’d been so busy with work. You put on something cute to wear and did your hair only to feel like you’re being followed the whole time. You tried to ignore them but it was hard when you saw their black clothes in every corner.

“Does this look cute?” you asked and held up a shirt.

“On me or you?” Bucky joked.

“Ha-ha, very funny. Wait, it might look good on you.”

Bucky smiled and took the shirt while you moved to a different section of the store, the dresses. He didn’t mind holding the things you wanted to get. He’d do it forever if he knew this made you happy. It does. You liked shopping. Just not with grown men following you.

“Do they have to be here?” you sighed as you looked at the dresses.

“It’s a precaution, pisică.”

You liked the little nicknames he gave you, especially in his native tongue, Romanian.

“Because of your job?” Bucky nodded. “When are you gonna tell me what you do?”

“I’d rather stay in our little bubble a little while longer, if possible.”

“Fine, but you will have to tell me eventually.” Bucky didn’t respond to that. Once you were done with the dresses, you moved to the jewelry section. The prices in this store were outrageous and you turned to Bucky with a frown. “Are you sure we should keep shopping here? I’ve already spent enough of your money.”

“Pisică, I make more money in an hour than the one hundred grand you’re going to spend.”

“You’re spoiling me,” you grinned.

Bucky pulled you into him and placed his hands on your ass, not caring if anyone saw.

“You’re my girl. Of course, I will.”

He leaned down and kissed you and your heart swelled in happiness.

Now

You always knew Bucky would find you but you didn’t know when or where it’d happen. He truly didn’t know where you were for the first six months you were gone. After you enrolled in college, he found you. In order to apply for it, you had to use your real name which Sam caught when he was looking for you online.

Despite what you may think of him, he really does love you. He just has a weird way of showing it.

Bucky has left his men behind where you crashed your car at while his driver takes you to one of his mansions. You’ve been to almost all of them because he used to take you all around the country for the hell of it. You have a room in every single one of them.

“Pisică--”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap and look at him.

“It took a long time to find you. I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks. He loses it when he thinks about what to ask next. “Why did you run?”

You look at him with wide eyes and a parted mouth. “Did you really just ask me that? You’re a murderer.”

“Well, that depends on how to look at it.”

“There’s no looking at it differently. You kill people. That’s murder.”

Bucky decides to change the topic because he’s not gonna get far with you accusing him of things he’s done.

“Remember how we met?” It’s incredible how this man can jump from one topic to the next. “I do. I even remember the kiss we shared. Care to hear it from my perspective?”

“Not really?”

He tells you the story anyway as if you weren't there to begin with.

Bucky met up with several potential business partners that he thought would benefit him and his company. He’s one of the biggest mafia bosses this country has ever seen and having allies is much better than having enemies. He controls the weapons market, the communication sector, and most of the casinos across the country. These men would give him access to most of the drug trading posts if they’d only get their heads out of their asses and agree to his terms.

He doesn’t let the storm outside prevent him from doing business which is why he took this little meeting to one of the most expensive and high-end restaurants in town. The owner knows him and always gives him a good deal.

“Ma’am! You can’t just run in here!”

Bucky looks up and locks eyes with the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen before. Granted, she’s soaking wet from the rain outside. She looks fearful as if she’s running from someone. For some reason, Bucky would kill anyone who ever made her feel unsafe, and he doesn’t even know her.

She looks back outside and runs further into the restaurant, ignoring the calls from the hostess. She runs right over to him and interrupts the meeting he carefully set up without a care in the world. There’s panic in her eyes. She’s afraid. If only she knew who he was.

“I’m so sorry. Please play along.”

A man comes into the restaurant just as soaked as she is but Bucky doesn’t have time to react. She sits on his lap and kisses him desperately. He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off his lap and kisses her back. She is getting his nice suit wet but he doesn’t care. This kiss not only screams ‘I’m desperate’ but it screams ‘I need help’. The men Bucky is with chuckle but he tunes them out.

“Sir!”

Bucky can only assume the man had left the restaurant. His mysterious lover tries to pull away from him but he pulls her in closer and continues to kiss her. Only when he is satisfied does he finally let her go. She turns to check that the man isn’t there anymore and visually relaxes.

“I am so sorry.”

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t let me leave and I only managed to get away from him.” something comes over her face and she backs away in embarrassment. “God, that was so rude of me. I don’t know you. Thank you for that. Again, I’m really sorry I interrupted your dinner.”

She leaves the table and checks to make sure her ex isn’t outside looking for her. Once she feels she’s safe, she runs back outside into the pouring rain. Bucky clears his throat and takes out his phone so he can call one of his trusted men. He has Sam working on something in another state so Steve is who he calls.

“Boss?”

“Did you see her run out?”

“Yes.”

“Follow her. Find out about the boyfriend.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky gets off the phone and returns to his meeting like nothing happened.

“You came in there dripping wet. You came over to me and kissed me. Do you remember that kiss? How desperate you were for it?” During his storytelling, Bucky pulled you closer to him and slid his hand in your hair. His hand is so big that he can cup the side of your head and still run his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you remember the taste of my lips on yours?”

“I will never kiss you again much less do anything more than that.”

You push him away and he smirks in amusement. He keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the ride. His mansion is like the one in New York just with more acres. He has the ultimate dream house fit with anything you can think of. Pools, spas, theaters, sports courts, and a ton more.

You dread coming back here not because it reminds you of Bucky but because it reminds you of the good times you had with him. The times from before you knew what he did for work.

You’re escorted inside his mansion and taken to a room with Steve. It’s like you’re being placed on time out because Steve stands by the door as if he isn’t allowed to let you leave.

“Ai grijă la ea, e foarte drăguță, dar e o fire plină de luptă. Ea nu iese din casă.”

Watch out for her, she’s real pretty but she’s a feisty one. She doesn’t leave the house.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you the whole time before leaving the room. Your blood boils.

“Ești un laș care se ascunde în spatele unei armate de oameni!”

You’re a coward who hides behind an army of men!

Bucky doesn’t bat an eye at your words. He’s the one who taught you Romanian, now you’re using it against him.

“I’m leaving,” you say to Steve and storm to the door.

Steve lets you out of the room knowing there are guards posted at every door to prevent you from leaving the mansion. Sam stands at the front door so he must be done cleaning the crash of your car. 

“Sorry, you can’t leave. Bosses’ order,” Sam says and stops you from leaving.

Instead of standing here arguing with him, you figured you get this over with. Your room hasn’t been touched since you left, and you can only assume your other rooms in the other mansions haven’t been touched either. This room is filled with so many good memories of you and Bucky. You hate that you’re looking at them now with such disdain.

Bucky was never one for pictures so the ones he did take were inappropriate to post anywhere. He thought it was funny to print them out and frame them for your room to always remind you who you belong to. Maybe you still do. Maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of how you feel anymore.

It hurts to look at them because you still love him. You’re so damn in love with him and it hurts because you thought you’d never love a murderer.

Bucky returns to the house hours later, well into the night. He finds you asleep in your own bed with dried tears on your cheeks. He looks at the pictures on the dresser and yanks his tie off angrily. He makes sure to be quiet as he walks over to you.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

He kisses your forehead before leaving your room. God, he wishes things were different. He hates seeing you in pain.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #mcu #marvel fan fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

[autistickfigure]

first time they meet. Technically. not really

#flowers arts #steve #system accountability is DEAD and we KILLED HIM #steve voice Its all your fault. BOB voice Its all your fault (They are equally at fault) #eve has been dreaming about this for a long time. so he kinda thought he'd got it down by now #steve loves BOB and thinks he can do no wrong But also loves to blame him for everything he (and herself) did wrong. #BOB doesnt think that steve is real and also hates it. they dont have normal conversations #steve gets really sad when zes fronting alone and BOB gets Maladaptive daydream core when he fronts alone. #which is why he feels that way about steve. AND steve is keeping this whole system thing under raps except not really #Some of that is just BOB not caring i feel. its hard not to spill over thoughts hes just this way. THEYRE FUNNY. #steve tries to be cool but hes kind of lame whenever he does that. and BOB is always lame #if BOB were not obsessed with humans steve wouldn't look that way too probably. maybe he'd just be a stickfigure #ONE more thing. steve found out about the system thing because of green when he was like 1-10. on the phone. #he had an app to track that stuff when he found out but then he realized that hes 2 billion years old and probably a lot of alters. #AND he didnt know what to set as profile pictures AND didnt want BOB to find out so it was quickly abandoned. BUT thats how green knows ste #e. and they are friends despite steve wanting to be alone when fronting. ITS also funny because green hates BOB. and ocassionally says her #name in public. but greeen is also a system so its ok. (But he doesnt know because he thinks its viruses. WELCOME TO MY twisted world)

[steddielations]

Steve acts on instinct.

There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.

There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.

They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.

“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.

“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”

Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”

It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”

“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”

Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.

“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.

He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.

It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.

“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”

Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.

“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”

Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.

Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.

“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.

“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.

The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.

He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.

“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”

He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”

“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.

“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”

Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.

“I think I’d definitely remember you.”

Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.

“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”

Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”

“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”

Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”

“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.

Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.

It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.

That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.

Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.

“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.

“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”

He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.

Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.

He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.

Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.

“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.

Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.

What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.

At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.

Oh.

He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—

Yeah, just. Oh.

Part 2

#what if they’re both secretly famous and clueless about each other #this is called ‘Upstaged’ #part two soon #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #steddie ficlet #rockstar eddie munson #baseball player steve harrington #famous steve harrington #meet cute #saved your life trope #famous eddie munson #rueswriting

[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve got Good boy inscribed on his butt, just on the right cheek.

It would be funny if it was a tattoo Steve had gotten one time when he was too drunk and on a dare.

Except it wasn't a tattoo. At all.

Even though it kind of looked like one.

It was the first words his soulmate would say to him.

When Steve first got it, his friends had given him odd looks in the locker room.

Tommy would use many excuses to touch and even Billy wouldn't shut up about it.

As for Carol, she just cackled her head off when he showed it to her.

Still, whenever Steve was alone, he would look at the words in the mirror and feel kinda giddy about the whole thing.

Who would call someone they had just met "good boy"? What if they were far older than him?

And what would his words be for them? "Yes sir"? "Hello sir"?

Soon, he found his answer when he learned about the BDSM world, which Robin had jokingly mentioned one time.

And Steve sort of fell down the rabbit hole since then.

He met many men and women who would call him "good boy", and occasionally "good girl".

But none of them felt right.

Until he heard about Kas.

Who was known to be an experienced dom and knew how to treat his subs right.

Most of the subs in Steve's circle put the man on a pedestal. They practically worshipped the ground he walked on.

And Steve had become curious enough to seek him out.

A quick text over the phone and Steve already had a date with Kas at a hotel on Friday night.

Once the day arrived, he dolled himself up a little, knowing many doms liked how rosy cheeks and pouty lips he was.

He even wore lipgloss and mascara just for good luck.

His outfit was simple enough to take off, but cute nonetheless.

A yellow and pink graffitied black sweater that was a little baggy on him, a tiny pearl choker, silver bracelets, a pair of jeans shorts, and baby pink sneakers.

He looked like a twink, all things considered.

It wasn't his first time dressing like this and it wouldn't be the last time, either.

Steve just..

Well, he just wanted to make sure if he stumbled on his soulmate who happened to be a dom, he wouldn't disappoint them too badly.

It had been years since his word first appeared. So he had the right to be a little bit desperate.

Steve didn't know why, but by the time he got to the hotel, he was a puddle of nerves.

He figured that maybe it was the "Kas' effect" that many people had told him about.

When the door opened to let Kas into the room, Steve just knew this man was going to rock his world.

Kas was attractive and tall. Easily having a couple of inches on him.

With long curly hair, big brown eyes, and plump lips, the man looked surprisingly intimidating.

He wore a burgundy shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing his tattoos and chunky silver rings.

His pants and heavy boots were made of leather, which Steve suddenly wanted to rub himself on.

He seemed to be a lanky type, but Steve knew better than to assume anything.

As Kas languidly made his way to the bed, Steve unconsciously slid down to the floor and got on his knees, waiting for his order.

Yeah, he was a good boy like that.

There was a reason why many doms had asked to keep him despite knowing he only let his soulmate own him.

Kas wasn't any different.

The man smiled at him, dimpled and warm, making Steve woozy a bit at being praised even wordlessly.

Once Kas sat down, he spread his thighs slightly and patted a hand on his lap.

Understanding the silent command immediately, Steve climbed up on it without being told twice.

He blushed and giggled a bit when strong arms wrapped around his waist securely.

"Good boy," said Kas huskily, smelling of cigarettes and something spicy. "What do you want for your reward, sweetheart?"

Steve felt his breath hitched at that. He knew the chance wasn't high but–

"Can I kiss you, sir?" He asked coyly, playing his role to perfection.

This time, it was Kas who took a sharp intake.

Surprise, disbelief, uncertainty, hope, and finally, joy settled on the man's handsome features.

Kas smiled at him again, more genuine and hopeful.

"Baby boy, do you know that I have those words written on my left ribs my entire life?"

"Show me," Steve demanded, unable to keep up the act when he was so close to finding his soulmate.

Without protest, Kas unbuttoned his shirt and there it was, scribbled on the man's pale skin was Can I kiss you, sir? in his handwriting.

Smiling fondly, Steve traced his fingers on those words.

They sounded so sweet. And yet concerning if being put into the wrong context.

What a pair they made.

"Can you show me yours, sweetheart?" Kas asked tentatively, looking unsure despite having been so confident just a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, sure, of course," Steve scrambled up from the man's lap and blushed as he turned around to unzip and pull down his shorts.

Hearing Kas curse quietly behind him was, perhaps, the most flattering moment in his life.

He could see what kind of an image he made with his baggy sweater bunching up around his waist, white thong, and Good boy being inked on his tanned buttcheek.

Some would call it hot, sexy, or erotic.

But Steve knew how obscene he looked with those words on him.

Especially when he was face down and ass up, waiting to be fucked into oblivion.

Not that he had let anyone fuck him, yet. But he wouldn't mind if Kas did it tonight.

Steve shuddered slightly as calloused fingers brushed on his cool skin, and let out a moan when hot lips placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

Then without pausing, strong hands grabbed his hips before sharp teeth sank into his flesh, eliciting a yelp from him.

It wasn't painful. It just made Steve want to ask for more. So he turned around to do exactly that.

"Kas–"

"Call me Eddie," the man tugged him back into his lap.

"Eddie," he breathed out as he straddled the man's thighs.

"Yes, my sunshine?" Eddie smiled adoringly at him.

"Can I kiss you now?" Steve braced his hands on the broad shoulders with a raised eyebrow.

Tightening the arms around his waist, Eddie pecked him on his chin, sweet and loving.

"How about I let you kiss me for the rest of our lives, my pretty angel?"

"And I'll be yours for as long as we live?" Steve murmured against those plump lips.

"Yeah, gonna treat you right, my good boy," Eddie chuckled before drawing him into a fervent kiss.

Steve was so going to thank that Chrissy girl who had sold him her mascara and lipgloss later.

Guys, this baby had been revamped into a one-shot and posted on ao3! Enjoy!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soulmates steddie #sub steve harrington #dom eddie munson #meet sexy #sionewrites

[undreaming-fanfiction]

My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things drabble #steddie au #steddie fanfiction #dustin henderson #lotr steddie #ish #lord of the rings steddie #not proofread we die like Boromir MY BOY #ahem this got long #Steve the redorkifier Harrington #Eddie the reemerging dork Munson

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

He’s staring at him.

Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.

The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.

“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.

“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”

“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”

Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”

“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”

Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.

Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”

Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”

Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”

Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.

“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”

Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”

He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”

“To- to prove you’re from the future?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”

He blinks. “What?”

Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”

Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”

Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”

“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.

A ring Eddie already has on his finger.

“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.

His hands start shaking.

“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”

“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.

“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect

#if I should stay #do I need to be starting another wip? #no #do I need help? #yes. probably #will I get any? #hahahahaha no. #probably not #anyways I don’t know why Steve went back in time. we’re gonna figure it out as we go along #or we won’t #this is my excuse to write Steddie #and to write Eddie into the script earlier than he actually was #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #starambles

[neverevan]

I know we all love the idea of Eddie keep flirting with Steve and calling him pet names, because he thinks he can get away with it.

But I've been thinking about Steve casually calling Eddie baby without even registering what he's doing.

Like they are standing outside the van with the hood open and Steve just tutting at him like "Eddie, baby, you really gotta get your transmission checked, this is like the third time this month" and Eddie's losing his shit, mouth hanging open in shock, but Steve has no idea and it just keeps on happening after that.

Next time it happens, they are all over at Steve's, having a movie night and Steve has El and Max passed out on him, making him unable to get up from the couch without waking them and he just whisper-yells to Eddie "Hey babe, could you pass me a beer? Kinda tied up here" and Eddie just blanks and says nothing, but gets a bottle from the sixpack on the floor and Steve says "thanks" like it's just how things have always been between them.

And Eddie's working himself into a frenzy. Has Steve got no idea about what he's doing to him? Because Eddie's been lowkey crushing on Steve since he got mixed up in the whole Upside Down business and it just got worse when he woke up at the hospital to Steve holding his hand and giving him the brightests of smiles that there was, rubbing his thumb over Eddie's knuckles, whispering a soft "Hey there sleeping beauty, how're ya feeling?" while being completely oblivious to the suspicious look Wayne was giving them. And sure, hanging out with him nearly every day didn't help the situation one bit.

But this. This is going to be the death of him.

And it just keeps on happening. Steve murmurs "goodnight baby" into the phone before hanging up, he shouts "babe, come here, you gotta see this" when Lucas ends up stuffing fifteen oreos into his mouth (which is a new personal record) and whispers "hey baby, I'm sorry, I know you'd rather do something else, but I promised Mrs Wheeler" when they're watching Holly's ballet recital, waving at her from their seats when her eyes land on them.

It all comes to a head when Eddie's stupid van breaks down in the middle of fucking nowhere, on their way back from Indianapolis, after going there to buy a special boardgame for Dustin's birthday.

There's not a single car or house to be seen anywhere in a ten mile radius.

"Oh this is just great," Steve hisses as he jumps out of the car to walk around and Eddie does the same. He pops the hood and watches as a small cloud of smoke slithers out of it.

"Shit" Eddie swears under his breath. It looks bad.

"See baby, that's exactly why I told you to get it checked! Because I didn't wanna get stuck in fucking no man's land!"

"Look, I'm sure if we just leave it to rest a little..."

"Rest? Eds, come on, you know that's not how it works. We gotta walk up to the next gas stop and phone someone to tow it."

"Fuck, fine!" Eddie grunted. "But it gets dark in like twenty minutes."

They both know that they can't handle walking out in the wild after dark. Not after everything and not with all the nightmares that still tormented them most nights.

"Then I guess we're sleeping out here tonight." Steve says, dropping his hands on his hips. "You have pillows or some shit in the back?"

"Got a couple of blankets, yeah."

In the end they lay down two blankets on the bottom of the van and bundle up some old jumpers Eddie keeps in there for pillows. They lie there, facing each other in the dark.

"Hey... I'm sorry about all this" Eddie whispers, like his voice could disturb anyone out here in the middle of nowhere.

"It's okay, I just wish you'd pay more attention to stuff like this. I mean shit, babe, what if it's just you out here, huh? What then?"

"Steve-"

"I mean, I just hate to think about how shitty it would be, to be out here alone, in the dark... plus I'd worry myself sick not knowing where you are, you know?"

"Steve."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not alone."

"No, no you're not alone" Steve agrees with a private little smile.

They settle into a companionable silence and Eddie's almost certain that Steve is just about to drift off, but he can't contain it in himself any longer; he has to ask.

"Hey Steve?"

"Mmh?"

"Why uh... why are you keep calling me...?" He can't bring himself to say it out loud without his face heating up.

"What?"

"Names." He settles, hoping that Steve would get it.

"Names?"

He's gonna make him say it, isn't he?

"Yeah like uh... baby."

"Oh"

Even in the darkness of the van Eddie can see how the colour darkens in Steve's cheeks.

"Does it bother you?" Steve asks after a beat and Eddie just sighs out a soft "no".

"Okay."

For a long moment it seems that this is all Eddie's gonna get, but then Steve shuffles a little closer and runs a finger along Eddie's palm before taking his hand into his own.

"It just felt right, you know? Calling you that. I dunno, it was like how it was meant to be."

"That sounds kinda romantic, isn't it?" Eddie's shooting for a joke, but Steve just sighs timidly.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

"Steve-"

"Eddie... can I?" He doesn't finish it, but Eddie knows he'd say yes to pretty much anything Steve could ever ask from him.

"Yeah" He breathes with a little nod and Steve scoots even closer, placing his other hand onto Eddie's cheek. He leans in and looks him in the eyes for an impossibly long moment, making sure he's got permission one last time.

Steve whispers a soft "baby" onto his lips before finally closing the gap between them.

#steddie #these two will be the death of me #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #ficlet #fanfiction #my fic

[strangersteddierthings]

Childhood friends AU Idea

Steve and Eddie are best friends who make plans to learn the elvish alphabet from The Hobbit so that they can pass notes without worrying about other people reading them.

The end of the school year (Eddie in 6th, Steve in 5th) brings a sadness to the two. Eddie's going to middle school and Steve's not yet, but they can hang out on weekends, and they have all summer so no worries. (Also, it gives Steve a little more time to learn elvish, since it'll be a whole year until they're in the same school again.)

Except yes worries because two weeks into summer, Eddie vanishes. When Steve bikes to his house to investigate, the whole house is empty. Packed up and gone. Steve goes to Wayne for answer and all he gets is a smile that doesn't really reassure and words of "his dad got a job opportunity, had to move on short notice. But don't worry, kiddo. I'll get you the number to their new place so you can call."

He learns elvish anyway. It's harder without Eddie to help but he's determined. Eddie might return, or maybe he'll get an address one day. Send a letter to Eddie in full Elvish.

Steve never gets a number or address. Summer ends and sixth grade comes. He doesn't want to forget all the elvish he's learned, just in case. So, he decides to keep a journal. He can write all about everything that's happening and when he sees Eddie, he can give it to him. It's a double win. Eddie will know everything he's missed out on AND it'll help Steve practice elvish.

Sixth grade ends. Eddie doesn't return. Steve did make friends with Carol Perkins though, so he's not as lonely. He hopes Eddie made a new friend, too. But not a new best friend. That's Steve's position, always.

Seventh grade brings Tommy Hagan, but still no Eddie. It brings a growth spurt and sports. Steve likes the easy camaraderie that comes with sports teams. It's like having a lot of friends, which Steve will only admit to needing in his journal. Needing many little connections of friendship to hold together the big hole Eddie left behind.

The summer between seventh and eighth grade brings him a Bruce Springsteen concert. He'd never thought of a boy kissing another boy until he'd witnessed it on stage but he thinks about it a lot after. The end of that summer brings an awaken he refuses to shy away from even if he has to hide it

Eighth grade brings popularity. Steve's good looking, rich, and liked among his peers. It brings the first (and last) time his dad says he's proud of him.

(Steve will spend the rest of his high school career chasing his father's approval.)

Freshman year brings Eddie back, but he's different. His hair is longer and his clothes are darker and he's distant. Defiant and angry. Steve would recognize him anywhere, dressed in anyway.

Eddie doesn't want his friendship anymore. Avoids him in the halls and cafeteria, but Steve is nothing if not persistent. He writes a full letter in elvish to slip into Eddie's locker, but Eddie catches him. Shoves the letter back, unopened, unread, with a harsh whispered, "Don't you get it Harrington? I don't want to be your friend. Fuck off."

Steve doesn't understand why. Not until the table top rants start. Conformity and jocks and brain-dead rich kids who get by on favoritism.

It hurts. Steve feels his heart break the day he finally gets the not-so-subtle messages drilled into his mind. Eddie hates sports, and rich people, and stupid people. Eddie hates all the things that Steve is.

Eddie hates him.

Sophomore year brings Steve a lot of things. It brings the acknowledgment that he was probably in love with Eddie, the way his heart twists the day he sees Eddie flirting with a girl in the hallway, the way he wants the lights out when hooking up with someone so he can imagine a different person pressed against him, the way he gravitates towards brunettes with brown eyes and the flickering hope it might make Eddie jealous. (The way he'd said the wrong name when Brent went down on him, too absorbed in the fantasy of someone else to get it right. Brent hadn't been offended by it, he'd been thinking of someone else, too. Steve finds solidarity for a little bit, until the school year ends and Brent leaves Hawkins.)

Junior year turns Steve's life upside down (pun intended) with monster's coming out of walls. There's probably a lot more he should write about but his journal's pretty empty this year. Too traumatized to document. (Too afraid of what Eddie would say because Steve still writes in his journal like he plans on sending it to Eddie one day. Better to write nothing than sound crazy.)

And halfway through his senior year (don't think about how he's in it with Eddie, about the 4 classes they share, about how Eddie still won't meet his eye) he wants to fade into the background. Nancy and he break up. She's with Jonathan and he hears the whispers of how pathetic he is to be eating lunch with his ex and the guy that 'stole' her. Steve knows that's a lie, Nancy made her choice, and no one can say otherwise, but it hurts to hear. He can't be bothered to try and make new friends. How would he explain the nightmares? The skittishness. The fear of the dark, of pumpkin patches, of his own damn pool now that he's had time to process last year?

Then, the next year brings him Robin. Well. First it brings him an embarrassing uniform and then Russian torture (don't think about it. Don't think about how he'll shorthand the stock list by writing it in Elvish sometimes. Don't think about how the Russian's almost believe they just work for Scoops until they find the stock list in his pocket. Don't think about how they don't believe that the strange script they can't identify isn't proof he's a spy), but in the end he gets Robin. A Platonic Soulmate who understands the hidden side of him. She asked if he was ever in love, and he thinks of the Eddie he used to know, longs to know again, and describes her instead. She rejects him in the softest way possible and then confesses about Tammy, and he confesses about Eddie in turn.

1986 brings Eddie back into his life in the worst way possible. With a bottle to his neck and them both acting like they've never spoken before. It brings twisting guts as Steve lies awake thinking about Eddie alone in a boathouse instead of sharing a bed with him like they used to in elementary school. It brings Steve leading them to Skull Rock (popularized as a make out spot but started as a set of boys' favorite place to play pirates during the summer). Dustin and Eddie make references Steve pretends to not know, despite his own copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings and the numerous amounts of notebooks turned journals with elvish scrawled throughout.

There's a trek through the Upside Down. In another universe, Steve imagines he and Eddie talk. In this one, Robin sticks to his side like an extension of him (which she is), and glares at Eddie every time he looks in Steve's direction. Robin knows everything, knows it all, because there are no secrets between them.

They make plans to stop Vecna, once and for all, and Robin confesses she has a fear. That it won't turn out okay this time, but they have to try anyway. Steve clinks his bottle against hers and looks across the field to Eddie and Dustin. The stakes feel so much higher this time.

"I'm going to talk to Eddie if we survive. Make it right," he says.

"No. He's going to make it right because you didn't do anything wrong," Robin says, which is more support than he thought he'd get given the grudge she holds in his favor.

Eddie said make him pay and Steve does. Nancy advances, shotgun shot after shot and Steve's bounding down the stairs. Vecna beats him to the ground floor but not by much.

A hatchet's not the best tool to remove a head with but he manages. When he looks up, Nancy and Robin are looking down, both approving.

They find Dustin sobbing over Eddie and- and-

Steve's certain he's broken several of Eddie's ribs but he's breathing again, Nancy finds his pulse beneath all the blood, and Robin's retrieved the cut sheets to make bandages out of. Nothing is clean in this world, infection could kill him later, he might not save Eddie like he wants, but fucking Christ, at least if death claims him, it'll be on the right side of the world in a hospital.

Dustin, Robin, and Steve are at Eddie's side when Nancy leads Wayne into the room. They knew she went out looking for him (Steve was going to but Nancy had shoved him back in the chair with a look that left no room for argument) but even so they're startled by him.

Wayne has always been stoic and reserved, so it's no surprise to Steve when he just lets out a low whistle and says, "of all the people I might see here, you weren't one of 'em."

Steve swallows thickly and says, "well. I am. Here, I mean."

And Wayne gives him a watery smile and crosses the room. Pulls Steve into a hug that Steve thinks he probably wants to give to Eddie instead, but Eddie's not awake and standing and Steve is. But then Wayne says, "I told Eddie he couldn' chase ya away. That if he just talked to ya, you'd understand. He tried so hard to make ya hate him, and for what? For ya to be at his bedside anyway."

And Steve sobs. Loud and ugly and suddenly Dustin's there, and so are Robin and Nancy, and it's probably the most awkward hug for all the others but it's the best hug Steve's had in years. He doesn't even care that he's crying because how can he? Wayne's all but confirmed that Eddie doesn't hate him, maybe never hated him. That Eddie has an explanation, a reason for it all, and all he wants is Eddie to wake up and tell him.

Steve finally gets his apology two days after Eddie's release. It's the first time they've been alone together since- well, since elementary school. Wayne drove him here then lied about needing to check on something and said he'd be back in an hour or so before abandoned them to the awkward silence in Steve's living room.

"I'm sorry, Steve!" Eddie blurts out loudly, then looks startled by his own yelling.

"I know. I forgive you."

"You shouldn't."

"I know. Still do anyway. Would like to know what happened, though."

And Eddie tells him. How his father's debts came calling and they ran. How his mom got sick real fast, and his father's crime spree and prison sentence following her passing. How Eddie discovered the same thing about himself that Steve did but didn't have the same acceptance of himself. Hated that another thing marked him as Other. Freak.

He tells Steve how he couldn't let Steve back in because he was afraid of losing him again if he ever learned.

"I didn't think you'd be okay being friends with a faggot," Eddie spits the word out, dirty and mean and directed at himself.

Steve makes a decision then. "Follow me." And he helps Eddie up the stairs and into his room. Eddie sits on the bed and watches as Steve digs out notebook after notebook after notebook, until they're a tower on his bed. Then he topples them over in his search for the first.

Eddie takes the offered notebook with confusion on his face, looking from the cover, where 1978 is written on it. The summer Eddie vanished from Steve's life.

"Open it."

Eddie does and gasps. "Steve. Is this-"

"Every single one of these notebooks was written to you. For you. About you. I read The Hobbit for you. The Lord of the Rings. I learned elvish for you. I think I've been a little bit in love with you since the day we met on the playground on my second day of first grade."

"Steve," it comes out breathless and awed.

"Eddie," Steve repeats back to him, just as breathless as Eddie tosses the notebook aside and reaches for Steve instead. Hauls him in to kiss him senseless amongst the proof of Steve's devotion.

#steddie #fic #this was supposed to be a paragraph or two #why am i like this #steve has a complicated relationship with his parents #but they arent terrible #the picture descriptions have translation for the elvish if you wanna know what Steves been writing in his journals

[steddiealltheway]

Eddie’s eyes are brown.

At least, that’s what Steve would’ve said before staring into his eyes for…ten seconds? Thirty seconds? Five minutes? … he’s lost track of time.

But the time is certainly not wasted.

Steve’s not sure how he’s never noticed that brown eyes aren’t just brown. It’s a silly thought, and he knows that he should probably know this considering he also has brown eyes, but maybe he’s been too focused on his hair. And maybe he’s been a little too focused on Eddie’s lips…

He fights to glance down at them as Eddie stares back at him, his pupils blown wide, but every now and then when he leans a little to the side, the sunlight from the windows hits his eyes just right and his pupils contract, showing off all the color in his eyes. And Steve loves when this happens.

The brown turns into an almost amber color, deep brown highlighted by hints of warm red and orange. And at the bottom of his eyes, there’s small patches of gold standing out against the deep brown ring that circles the whole iris.

Steve thinks he could get lost in it all and stare for hours.

He leans in a little closer, trying to see more of that gold, and nearly groaning when Eddie shifts away from the light again, eyes becoming such a deep brown that Steve can easily see his reflection.

But he doesn’t want to see himself, he wants to see how that dark chocolate turns into that gold and red in the sunlight.

Then, something Steve didn’t fathom happens.

Eddie closes his eyes.

“Steve won!” Dustin shouts, as the other kids carry on loudly, and Steve is harshly startled back into reality.

A staring contest. That’s what this was supposed to be. A staring contest, not a Steve gets lost in his friend’s eyes for so long that he forgets to blink contest. Christ.

He glances sheepishly at Eddie and takes in all his features, the furrowed brow and the slight frown to his lips as Eddie tugs at a stand of hair.

As the kids file out of the room, moving onto whatever activity is going to keep them entertained next, Steve asks, “Are you that upset about losing?”

Eddie shakes his head and leans forward, staring into Steve’s eyes again. Steve fights not to look too deeply, afraid he’ll get lost in the depths forever if he gives himself the chance.

“I saw something I hadn’t seen before,” Eddie comments, looking back and forth between his two eyes.

“I did too,” Steve admits, allowing himself to stare a bit. He reaches out and pulls Eddie closer to him, getting both his eyes directly in the sunlight. “I see a whiskey my dad used to always keep on his desk, with hints of gold that reminds me of the jewelry my dad got for my mom, back when they still loved each other.”

His heart pounds at the memories, back to a time when things almost seemed normal. When he thought he would always be happy.

Steve shakes his head and glances away, unsure of how the colors he saw before could bring up the deep memories he spewed to Eddie. He changes the subject and asks, “What did you see in mine?”

He expects maybe an analysis of green and brown, or hazel as many girls tell him after staring at him for long enough to make him feel uncomfortable. He wonders why Eddie doesn’t make him feel that way.

A finger lifts Steve’s chin, turning his gaze back to Eddie whose stare sends chills down his spines. “I saw longing,” Eddie states and continues, “Was it for those things? Those memories?”

Steve finds himself shaking his head as his eyes glance down to Eddie’s lips which twitch as he swallows. “Was it longing?” Eddie asks, nervousness seeping into his tone.

Steve glances back at his eyes and nods. It’s not like he’s unaware of his deeper feelings for Eddie, but he didn’t expect to fall so hard in just a few moments as he stared into his eyes. And he definitely didn’t expect to have those emotions read so clearly in his own eyes.

Eddie’s hand slowly moves to cup Steve’s face as he says, “Steve, read my own eyes for a moment. Please see the-”

“Can you guys give us a ride to the arcade?!” Dustin yells from the other room.

Steve sees Eddie’s eyes flash with annoyance which is much different from the loving expression from before.

Loving.

Steve takes a deep breath and steps back as he hears multiple footsteps hurriedly making their way back to the kitchen.

“Did you hear us?” Mike asks, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, “Get to the car.”

He lingers back with Eddie as he watches all the kids run to his car, and when Steve gets to the door with Eddie behind him, he yells, “Give me a minute, I need to grab my wallet!”

He closes the door quickly and rushes into Eddie’s space, cupping his face, and asking, “Am I reading this wrong?”

“Not at all,” Eddie says, hope and deep longing shining in his eyes.

“Good,” Steve says, leaning forward and meeting Eddie in the middle as they hurriedly kiss, pouring in all the longing they’ve both experienced for months now but were too oblivious to see before.

(Robin laughs for minutes on end when she hears that a staring contest is what got them together when they’ve been having multiple for months without the label. Steve just rolls his eyes, but as soon as Eddie asks, “Want to have another staring contest?” He can’t resist.)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet

[french-goodbye]

in the low lamplight

summary: your boyfriend is perfect, except for one tiny little detail.

warnings: conversations about sex; dry humping; consensual slapping and chocking; praise kink; fingering; p in v sex. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+.

notes: i'm tired of experienced steve and virgin reader all the time. i want steve and confident slutty reader who's more experienced than him and blows his mind. also a little praise kink bc i feel like my boy would be insanely into that. also my first time writing smut!!! i! am! nervous! title from work song by hozier.

it's not that steve is bad in bed, it's quite the opposite actually. but he's just... extremely vanilla. and you totally get it. most of his sexual experiences were with young suburban girls in the back of his car or in his room when his parents weren't home. he was a couple of girls' first time and knowing steve, he probably put their own comfort above his wants. not probably, definitely.

you just wish he was... kinkier. nothing too intense, just something a little more exciting. and it's not that you don't get to cum, you totally do. he knows exactly how to move inside of you, the spots that make your body burn in need and he gives the best head ever, which is a nice bonus.

but after three months together and having sex everytime you have the opportunity to, because you're still in the honeymoon stage of the relationship, it's getting kinda repetitive. it's always missionary, maybe you on top if you're in a particularly bossy mood. but he nevers puts you on all fours or asks you to sit on his face or even sixty-nine. nothing.

you know steve's attracted to you (he isn't exactly shy to tell you how much) so you know that's not the issue, so you've tried so hard to subtly ask him to be rougher, you've tried placing his hand on your neck and squeezing, you've tried guiding his hands to your ass, but you've had no success so far. every single time he'll respectfully pull his hand away and press them to your shoulder or keep them there but not do anything.

but tonight. tonight is the night, you've decided. his parents are out of town (as usual) and it's just you two in the house, you've made sure he's free the whole day the tomorrow (no driving little shits around or shifts at the video store) so you'll have the whole friday night and the next day to yourselves.

you even splurged a bit and purchased a set of overpriced lingerie, way too expensive for just two little scraps of fabric and shaved, exfoliated and moisturized your entire body the night before. you still haven't approached the subject with him, but you've already planned a careful yet objective way to approach the subject and even practiced what you'd say in the mirror and bought a cosmo magazine. you're not exactly proud of yourself for that last one.

your plan is finally set in motion after you and steve get home from work and throw yourselves on his couch, half watching a movie and eat leftovers from the dinner you cooked the night before. when you're both done, you tell him you need a shower, where you use that lavender soap he likes and spray on the perfume he gave you on your birthday. after you're done, he's waiting in his room for you, halfheartedly flipping through the book you're currently reading.

"you can take your shower now" you tell him distractedly, holding the towel you've wrapped around yourself tightly to your body. he finally looks up and realizes your state of undress, his eyebrows shooting up.

"what are you doing?"

you stop going through your over night bag to throw him a confused look, "what are you talking about?"

"you used that soap i like, and that perfume i gave you that you only use on special occasions..." he stands up from the bed and stalks to you, watching you from narrowed eyes, like he's suspicious you're planning his murder. "what are you planning?"

you fake surprise, your hand coming up to clutch imaginary pearls. "me? why would i scheme something against my dear loving boyfriend?"

he looks at you unimpressed and you stand on your tip toes to rest your hands on his chest, his hands coming to support you on your waist and you whisper next to his ear, "okay, maybe i do have something planned... why don't you go take your shower and find out?"

he glances at you one last time before squeezing your waist and letting you go.

"fine..." he sighs dramatically, "i'll go"

once he's locked the door behind him, you put on your recently purchased underwear and bra on. you throw on one of his old highschool t-shirts since he once mentioned how much he likes seeing you wearing them.

by the time he gets out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam surrounding him, you're sitting on his bed, rubbing lotion on your legs and he's shirtless, wearing only gray sweatpants, that hang low on his hips, his hair half dry as he finishes towel drying it.

you tsk and shake your head disheartened. "oh- wow, okay, harrington"

he glances at you once and goes back to drying his hair. "huh?"

"the chest, the scandalous dick print..." you explain and gesticulate towards him. "are you trying to seduce me or something?"

"why are you looking at my dick? you interested?" your stomach burns with insinuation but you ignore him, simply tucking your lotion back into your bag.

"i mean... it's hard not to notice when you're whoring yourself around" you shrug with fake nonchalance.

he scoffs loudly at you, going back into the bathroom quickly to hang both of your towels and getting on your way when you're about to climb on the bed after having dropped your bag in the corner.

"i'm whoring myself?" he looms over you, hand resting on your shoulder to snap the strap of your bra that's peeking from his shirt "you're the one wearing a new bra babe."

you don't answer, simply slapping his hand away and climbing on the bed, intentionally giving him a peek of your ass as you finally sit near the foot of the bed, with your legs crossed.

"why don't you turn off the lights and come take a look?"

he earnestly complies, almost tripping on a sweater he left on the bedroom floor earlier that day as he does what you asked. he lights the lampshade on his bedside table and walk towards you, leaning down to reach you when you stop him.

"no" you say firmly. "go sit on the bed, near the headboard."

he complies, but not without giving you a look. "ooh, bossy"

you turn to watch him and can't help the spark that lights up in your tummy. he looks ridiculous attractive, hair fluffy from not being styled properly, his hairy chest all on display for you and his thick spread legs giving a privileged view of his dick in those sweatpants. it's almost criminal, but you swallow it down and keep going with your plan.

you crawl to him on all fours, purposefully, until you're between his legs.

"i don't know about bossing " you run a long manicured fingernail through his thick chest hair. "but i was thinking about something i'd like to try with you..." you only stop when your fingers are almost at his waistband and you swirl your fingers around his bellybutton. you glance at his face and he almost looks dazed, eyes following your finger avidly.

hook, line and sinker.

your boyfriend was almost too easy sometimes.

"yeah, babe... whatever you want" you hold back your laughter and finally climb on top of his legs, his eyes following the curve of your hips and your bare legs as you straddle him.

"how do you feel about chocking?" you ask, making his gaze shift to your face.

"chocking? are you serious?"

"yeah, i think it'd be really good to have your hands around my neck" his fingers dig tightly on your hips, but you can tell he's still unsure.

"what if i hurt you?"

"if it makes you feel better, we can have a safe word and we can immediately stop if one of us says it. no questions asked"

"what if you can't speak?"

"then i can just tap you three times, like this?" you demonstrate, tapping his shoulder. "is that okay?"

he nods quietly, so you ask: "what if i do it on you first so you know what it feels like?"

"yeah, sure"

you gently put your hands on his throat, not applying pressure yet, just resting there.

"you just have to make sure you squeeze the sides, not on top so you don't stop airflow" you explain, spreading your fingers so they're on each side of his throat and squeezing carefully. steve himself is more surprised than you when his breath stutters and he lets an almost groan out.

"did you like that?"

"fuck yeah, that's super hot" he tells you breathlessly, surprising you with a forceful kiss. he manages to distract you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and brushing against yours as his fingers squeeze your hips and start guiding you to grind on his lap. you let him call the shots for a moment, slowly moving your hips against his now half hard cock and sinking your fingers on his hair to scratch his scalp lovingly.

however, when his hands start to wander underneath your borrowed shirt you bite his lip softly, letting it slot back in place as you pull away.

he's about to complain, big brown eyes staring at you and almost pouting. you press your pointer finger to his lips, silencing him, hips still moving at a torturously slow pace against him.

"there's one more thing, actually" you move your finger away and trace his bottom lip carefully.

"more?" his eyebrows raise in question.

"what about you... i don't know, maybe you can be a rough with me? like slapping me a little bit"

"slapping?! babe, i don't wanna hurt you and i don't-"

"you slap my ass all the time!" you accuse him, reminding him of all the times you'd walk past him or bend down and he had slapped your butt teasingly.

"yeah, jokingly"

"babe, i trust you" you grip his face, forcing him to look at you. "i know you'd never hurt me if i didn't ask you to. i just think it'd be really hot, and who knows... maybe you'll like it too. and if you really don't like it we'll never speak of this again" you shrug, gently pushing his hair from his face.

"you sure?" you nod and press a quick kiss to his lips.

"if you wanna stop just say red, okay? anytime."

"yeah, i like that"

"you'll tell me if you wanna stop, right?" you press another quick kiss to his lips in thanks.

he nods eagerly "you too, okay? just say the word and we'll stop" you nod in agreement. "okay... but now what? do i just... jump right into it?"

"no... what about we start the way we always do before having sex?" you smirk, starting to move your hips in slow circular motions again and his hands slide down your back to slip under your t-shirt again.

he laughs huskily next to ear, making you shiver. "we're really good at that", his lips make contact with the skin of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses there. you keep moving on top of him, hands sinking into his hair and keeping him there.

"fuck, steve" you whine when he sucks at a sensitive spot on your neck, his hands squeezing your thighs roughly, moulding fat like dough underneath his fingertips.

suddenly you feel a sharp sting on your backside as steve slaps your ass. you whine deep in your throat and your hips stutter in their rhythm against his lap.

"oh, you really like it when i do that"

"god, i do" you breathlessly tell him with a smile, tugging his hair harshly to guide him to your mouth. "you like this too, don't you? just wanna give me what i need, huh baby?"

"i do, i do. just want my girl to feel good" he whines against your mouth, while he spreads your ass and digs his fingers into your skin.

you kiss him some more, until you can feel his now hard cock against you, through the lace fabric of your underwear and his sweatpants. his hand lift up your t-shirt and carefully takes it off of you.

"god, you're gorgeous" you push on his chest gently until his back is against the headboard so you can show him the whole thing, from the intricate lace to the small straps keeping everything together. "you got this for me?" he teases you, his hands playing with your underwear, pulling it and letting it snap against the skin of your hip.

"yeah..." you answer distractedly, his cock rubbing in a very nice spot near your covered clit. his hand moves up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing your pebbled nipple through your bra. "you like it?"

"fuck yeah, i love it" one of his hand cups your breast, while the other pushes the fabric of your bra down so he can pull and twist your nipple.

you're already a mess on top of him, feeling the wetness on your underwear sticking to your folds, when he lowers his head to suck your nipple into his mouth and his hand plays with your other breast. the nails of your left hand dig half crescent moons on his bare shoulders while the other tug on his hair to keep him there and your head drops back in pleasure.

his hand stops massaging your breasts and you're about to complain when you feel it start to slip down your stomach and hook under your underwear to rub his fingers through your wetness, his knuckles grazing your clit. you hold him tighter, a loud moan leaving your lips when he sinks two fingers inside of you.

"yes, yes, yes, baby" you whine, hiding your face in his hair as he realeases your nipple with a lewd pop.

"you're so fucking wet" he rasps against you and sucks a mark on the swell of your breast, pumping his fingers in and out of you as the palm of his hand rubbing on your clit everytime he moves. "god, you feel so good around my fingers. can't wait to have my dick inside you."

you're lost in the rhythm of it, his palm brushing your clit at every stroke, the feeling of his lips sucking on your chest and his hips bucking underneath yours occasionally. but you finally reach your peak when his free hand slips down your back and slaps your ass again, harder this time, palming it underneath his fingertips.

"that's it... come for me, baby" you pull him to your mouth again as you come down and he guides you through it, still feeling yourself clenching on his fingers as you twitch in his lap.

"god, you're so fucking hot" you whisper against his mouth, still breathless. "you're so good to me, baby. such a good boy"

suddenly, he's holding you tighter and manhandling you, roughly dropping you on your back and looming over you between your knees. before you can react, he's ripping off his sweatpants and throwing it on his bedroom floor.

he stands completely naked in front of you, helping you spread your legs. you eye him lustfully, from his mussed hair to his throbbing cock standing tall, the tip pink and dripping with a little pre cum.

"can i go down on you?" you ask him avidly, starting to lift yourself up but he stops you, holding your wrist above your body.

"nuh-uh, baby. i'm gonna blow my load if you do that" he denies and you giggle, about to complain when he licks the palm of his free hand and strokes himself one, two, three times, shutting you up real quick. he's starting to align himself with your entrance when you stop him.

"wait, wait" he stops immediately.

"what? what's wrong?"

"i want you from behind"

he groans, dropping his head on the curve of your neck and letting go of your wrists. "you really can't say shit like that to me if you want me to last"

you giggle and tap his shoulder sympathetically, "you'll live". you lightly scratch his back, sliding your hands from his shoulder to his lower back and wrap your legs around his hips, feeling the tip of his cock nudging your inner thigh. "now... why don't you put me on my knees, handsome?"

he quickly moves to reposition you, helping you lift yourself up and pushing your spine down gently when you get on your knees. you lower your torso all the way until your chest is pressed against his bedsheets, lifting your ass up.

"fuck, baby. you look so good like this" he says when he slots himself behind you.

"maybe you should listen to me more, harrington" you tease, looking at him from over your shoulder as he kneads your ass.

"maybe i should, pretty girl" he answers distractedly, and you feel his thumb spreading your entrance. "look at this pretty pussy"

you moan and try to wriggle in the hold he has on your hips, "steeeve-"

he laugh mockingly and starts rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. "you this desperate babe?"

before you can answer he starts sinking himself inside, both of you sighing at the feeling. when he's finally inside you can't help the moan that escapes you, his big cock filling you up beautifully and the stretch in this position making you feel so full. however, his strokes are slow and languid and while that's nice, it's not exactly what you need.

"come on, babe" you grumble, trying to rock your hips against his grip. "fuck me like you mean it"

he scoffs and speeds up, his hand wrapping around your hair to press your face against his mattress and to keep you still, changing the angle slightly and pressing right against your spot inside of you.

"is this how you want it?" he huffs, slapping you again.

"oh god, yes. right there!"

he pulls you up until you're both kneeling on the bed, his hips slapping against your ass. his free hand climbs up your chest until it's resting on your neck. "do you want-?"

"yes, i want it. please, please, choke me" you interrupt, begging him to keep going, begging him for more. his fingers carefully start squeezing you throat and you wrap your hand around his to guide him until the pressure is just right.

"squeezing my cock so tight, baby. should've told me you wanted this sooner."

you don't get to answer, his free hand suddenly slipping down to rub circles on your clit and you're gone, your orgasm hitting you like a fright train. he helps you ride it out, until you gently pull his hand away and bend down again, resting your weight on your elbows.

"your turn, baby" you tell him, tilting your head slightly so you can see him.

he starts babbling and pressing you harder against the bed, a clear sign that he's close himself. he bends down, his chest against your back until he can stretch his hand out to hold yours against the mattress and he can babble against your ear about how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, how much he loves being inside you.

"that's it, babe. you made me feel so good, it's your turn now" you tell him, still slightly breathless and sensitive around his cock. "please come, need you to come so bad"

"god, i'm gonna cum" and it's all it takes to feel him pull out and finish himself off on your back. you're both still for a second as you catch your breath and he squeezes your hand still intertwined in his gently. when you turn your face to the side to see him, he presses a kiss to your cheek.

he taps your hips gently as he gets up and goes to the bathroom, coming back quickly to wipe you and himself clean with a wet washcloth. when he's done he throws it on top of the rest of his dirty laundry, still thrown on his bedroom floor.

when he finally turns to you, you're finally laying on your back and getting comfortable on his pillow. steve throws himself next to you and his arms immediately wrap around your waist. you hug him back, guiding his head to rest on top of your bare chest, now littered with purpling marks.

"you had fun, pretty girl?"

"you couldn't tell?" you laughter, his head shaking slightly against your chest as you comb his hair away from his face and his breath against your skin.

"god, i'm obsessed with you" he complains, hiding his face on your boob. you laugh, gently coaxing his face away so you can see him.

"that's good," you smooth the messy hairs on his eyebrow. "i'm pretty obsessed with you too"

"we're pretty perfect for each other then"

"you should keep me forever" you tease, tracing his features gently. he presses a kiss to your sternum and gets comfortable against you.

"maybe i will"

it sounds like a pretty good deal.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington smut #i wrote this instead of working on my thesis 😃 #i wasn't sure if i should post this but i got so much love on my last fic it made me braver so 🙃 #mine

[imfinereallyy]

Bedside Manner

for @acasualcrossfade request for "the infection has spread"

"Some birdie told me that you have been causing a fuss, Wayne, is that true?"

Wayne huffs from his hospital bed, glasses sliding down his nose. He places the newspaper he was reading on the table beside him. "You tell that Robbie of yours to stop exaggerating. It was only a small request."

Steve raises his eyebrows at his favorite patient (Dustin tells him he isn't supposed to have favorites, but he also used to cry anytime he picked up Max before him when they were younger, so what does he know) and gives him a knowing look. "Robin listens to no man, Wayne, you know this. You're better off sending that message through her wife. Besides, small? She was telling me you refused to have any other nurse help you because I wasn't here last night. Which surprised me since you are always pushing me on about taking a vacation. "

Wayne opens his mouth, but Steve presses on. "And the fact Robin was even in the room means they called a psych consult, so I can only imagine how bad it was."

Wayne grumbles like a little kid being scolded for getting his hands caught in the cookie jar. "Yea, well, it was a bad night, kid."

Steve feels his shoulders sag, he takes off his glasses and rubs a hand down his face before placing them back on. "Sorry, Wayne, I had a bad migraine last night. Nance and Robs wouldn't even let me pass the entrance. Bad news?"

"Kid, don't stress yourself out over me. I'm just your patient, and more so, I am just a cranky old man." Wayne patted Steve's knee as he sat down next to him.

"C'mon, Wayne. You're more than that. I'd like to think seeing you in and out of here the last year has made us friends. Although I gotta say, you're the only friend I have that I'll be glad if I don't get to see again, given the circumstances. So, what's the news?"

"The infection has spread."

Steve takes in a deep breath, he tries not to panic, but any infection in a hospital can be deadly, especially for a cancer patient like Wayne. "Incision site?"

Steve must not be as good at hiding his emotions as he used to be because Wayne jumps to ease his worry. "No, kid, don't worry. The surgery was a success. Just got that hospital fever, the good old bronchitis. But it just means I'm here longer than I have to. It also means my nephew is on edge, and I don't know if I can take a second longer of his hovering."

Steve laughed wetly, thankful for the topic change. "Ah yes, the mysterious nephew of yours that I've never met. The way you talk about him almost tempts me into switching to the day shift, sounds like he might be entertaining. But only almost."

"Always wondered why you were always working the nights, most of the others seem to switch. Not a big fan of the day?"

Steve shakes his head gently, "No, I like the quiet here at night. Like getting to know the patients without having to worry about fixing ten million things. Don't get me wrong, it has its downfalls. Like the doctors can be horrible at night, never tell Dr. Wheeler that or Robbie will kill me, and the food is awful. But there is something special about it here at night. So sorry, your ridiculous nephew isn't enough to tempt me."

Wayne smirked, "What if I told you he was a looker and single?"

Steve blushes slightly. He is used to patients trying to pawn him off to their relatives, it came with being a young male nurse, but typically it didn't phase him. But Steve has become close with Wayne, so hearing him suggest he get together with his nephew has him flustered. "I'm good, Wayne, thanks. Gave up on the dating scene a while ago. Not many people can keep up with a guy who works nights and suffers from severe head trauma."

"Shame, Eddie likes the nights too. I'd reckon yal would get along."

"I'm pretty sure we would need more than that, Wayne."

Wayne smiles fondly at Steve. "You don't need a whole lot to build a connection, son. Me and Linda, god rest her soul, only started dating for our mutual love of mugs. And we may not have had long together, but our love was strong. Besides, there is more yal would have in common than just the night shift."

Steve huffs a laugh, "Oh yea, like what?" The least he can do is humor the man.

"Well, you both care about me deeply."

Steve blushes again, "C'mon, Wayne. I'm your nurse. I'm kinda paid to care."

Wayne won't hear any of it, "No, son, it's more than that. You take your break in here every night. You make sure to record the game at home for me because they only have the news here. And last night, you tried to come in with a migraine, even though we both know I am the only patient you can stand right now."

Steve doesn't know what to say back. Wayne is right, of course. Steve has been spending all of his time with the man, giving him extra care. Steve isn't bad with his other patients, he goes above and beyond most of his coworkers, but there is something special about Wayne.

"You got nothing, kid, you know I'm right. Remind me a lot of my nephew. Before visiting hours ended is when I got the news of having to stay longer. Kid almost threw a fit when they kicked him out. Swore he was gonna break in to stay the night with me. I told him not to worry since you would be there, I brag about you too, ya know. When he found out today you weren't here, that boy threw a fit again. Swear he gets his tantrums from his father. Said he was gonna sneak back in tonight. Make sure I had company. That 'the man' couldn't stop him. That if he ran into you, he was gonna have a word with you."

Steve can't help the snort that shakes his body, "I'd like to see him get passed Hop first."

Wayne starts to chuckle, too, "Eds may have had his fair share of escaping the law, but no man moves as fast as Jim in a security uniform."

Steve is fully laughing now, "I know, right? It's like those pants make him aerodynamic or something. No way your nephew is getting by."

It is almost as if Steve's words summon what happens next. There in the doorway is the most gorgeous man he's ever seen, even though he is bent over and out of breath.

"Eds?" Wayne questions, clearly surprised. Steve has to mask his face and quickly before Wayne catches him ogling his nephew. Steve is finding it difficult, though. The man, Eddie, despite his out-of-breath appearance, is stunning. His long curly hair is thrown up in a bun, showing off the piercings up his ears. His clothes are simple but suiting, ripped jeans and a black band tee. Tattoos cover his entire body, and Steve wants to ask about every single one of them.

The most surprising thing about him isn't that he got by Hop (although he has questions for that later), no the most surprising thing to Steve is that Wayne somehow knew his exact type, which most people assume wrong in that department.

Eddie awakens an old craving inside Steve that he thought he had buried long ago.

"Wayne, you would not believe what I just went to get up here. The story I have for you, oh boy. You're gonna love it. Who knew security guards could move that fast. Anyway, I hope that nurse boy of yours is here tonight because I am ready to—" Eddie stops mid-rant when his eyes land on Steve, a lovely blush blossoming across his pale cheeks.

"I believe what you are trying to say is, what was it, Wayne? Oh yea, 'have a word with me,'" Steve laughs softly.

Eddie sputters, "Wayne!?!" His blushing becomes deeper as the seconds pass by.

Wayne just chuckles as Steve stands. "Don't be mad at your Uncle, I think he was just trying to make me feel better. I am sorry I wasn't here last night for the news. Got my head knocked around too much as a kid—" Steve taps his head with his knuckles, "—so I suffer from migraines sometimes. I really did try to come in, but well—you met Jim. He's pretty fast." Steve worries his lip. Eddie's eyes follow.

"Well, I can't be too mad now, can I?" Eddie swallows nervously before a smirk spreads across his face, switching from shy to confident in two seconds flat. Steve shouldn't be turned on by that. "The pretty face helps too. I'm pretty sure you could convince me to give you my kidney right about now. I'm Eddie, which I know you know by now, and you are...?"

Steve puts his hand out for a shake, "Nurse Harrington. But most people call me Steve."

Eddie grabs his hand gently and brings the back of it to his lips. "Stevie, a pleasure, really." A light kiss is placed on Steve's knuckles. Stevie, he thinks. That's a new one. And he isn't mad about it, at all. In fact, the butterflies in his stomach want him to get Eddie to say it again.

Steve catches Wayne's smug face in the corner of his eye as Steve begins to blush again.

"I'm just gonna—I'll be right back." Steve stutters.

"Leaving so soon?" Eddie says disappointed.

Steve has the sudden urge to fix the frown on his face. "No, no! Just, uh, gonna call Jim and tell him not to send out a search party. That it's okay if you stay. I'll keep an eye on you."

Eddie's face breaks out into a brilliant smile, "Really, Stevie? You gonna keep me around?"

Steve's heart skips a beat, "If I can help it."

***

#steddie #stranger things #wayne munson #modern au #wayne likes to play match maker but unlike dustin he is good at it #steve harrington #eddie munson #implied ronance #platonic stobin #nurse steve harrington #my writing #request game #steve x eddie #ficlet

[loveinhawkins]

Steve thinks he’s doing a good job at hiding it, but then Eddie catches his eye right as he’s limping out of the RV and… huh, maybe not.

Eddie, with panicked urgency—which, in Steve’s opinion, is admittedly sweet but unnecessary—asks if the bites are bothering him again.

“No, dude, it’s nothing,” Steve says. “It’s literally nothing.”

Eddie doesn’t look at all reassured.

Goddamn it, Steve thinks. Better rip off the band aid and hope it’s not too mortifying.

“It’s not the bites. It’s… um. My feet.”

Eddie glances down but there’s nothing to see; as soon he’d entered The War Zone, Steve had crammed his feet into the first pair of combat boots he could find.

“Oh,” Eddie says, the penny dropping. “Oh, shit. Yeah, hang on, just…”

He looks around, humming in thought, then grabs a bottle of water with decisiveness, and yeah, Steve thinks, this is gonna be incredibly mortifying.

But he can’t find a way to wriggle out of it without making the whole thing a way bigger deal than it needs to be—so he ends up sat in the grass, wincing as he pries off his boots.

It is, in a word, gross.

“Don’t know why they’re bugging me so damn much,” Steve says just to fill the silence. He huffs self-effacingly, goes to wiggle his toes before deciding ow, better not and ew, better not. “It’s, like, hardly anything compared to…”

He gestures to the bandage wrapped around him.

“Well, you weren’t walking on your stomach,” Eddie points out.

He pours out water onto some tissues he’s rustled up and gets to work.

Steve keeps waiting for the embarrassment to well and truly set in.

But… it doesn’t.

Eddie doesn’t once make a crack about how awful his feet look.

Instead he launches into a story of how, against his uncle’s sage advice, he’d gone to school in a new pair of boots (his birthday present) without breaking them in first.

It was freshman year, so Eddie’s whole look hadn’t been solidified yet. But he was determined to make it work—stomping around the school (“Were any lunch tables harmed?” Steve asks, and Eddie warmly tells him to shut up), steadfastly ignoring the growing discomfort.

At the end of the day, he’d taken his boots off and surveyed the damage with a melodramatic cry; “Kid, I really don’t know what to tell ya,” Wayne had huffed.

Eddie hams up his whiny, teenaged disgust so that he becomes the butt of the joke, and Steve suddenly feels like he’s watching a magician onstage—except he knows where to look, isn’t fooled by the sleight of hand: Eddie’s dramatics all serve as a distraction from the caked on dirt and blood he steadily cleans off Steve’s skin.

It’s quiet, unassuming. A hidden kindness.

Eddie doesn’t need to be doing this; Steve could quite easily take the bottled water and do it all himself—would probably get it over and done with in a matter of minutes, concealed around the other side of the RV, quick and perfunctory.

But you’re letting him, Steve thinks. Why are you letting him?

Eddie’s hands are cold, a pleasant contrast to the burning sensation all across his feet—honestly, he’d been hoping that so long as he just kept walking, he’d gradually become numb to it.

There’s a loud rip of plastic as a pack of baby wipes are opened. Eddie’s touch is light which soothes some of the sting, at least; he trails off into silence as he works, hissing sympathetically at whatever’s revealed.

“You’ve got a couple cracks,” he says, eyebrows drawn.

Steve gives an over exaggerated sigh. “Give it to me straight, doc. Am I gonna have to chop ‘em off?”

Eddie chuckles, but his concern doesn’t fade away.

“Just here,” he says, pointing, and the tip of his finger brushes against Steve’s heel—Steve tries not to, but he twitches reflexively, and Eddie flashes him an impish grin. “Ticklish?”

“Fuck off,” Steve says, smiling.

He kicks out, stops just short of actually hitting Eddie in the face.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Harrington,” Eddie says through laughter, pushing Steve’s foot away—gently. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

It’s a joke; Steve knows it’s a joke. But—

“You don’t need to do that, man. Robin already knows.”

Eddie stands up and stretches, gives Steve’s ankle a little pat.

“Think you’re all set—woah, wait,” he says as Steve reaches for the combat boots, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Uh, what’s it look like?”

“Harrington. You cannot put those on without socks again, you’re gonna summon my uncle; he’s got, like, a sixth sense about that kinda stuff.”

Eddie’s smile drops a little at that, a flash of melancholy breaking through.

God, you must really miss him, Steve thinks.

“I’m just making do. I don’t have any socks.”

“Yeah, you do.” Eddie’s smile returns in full force—puzzled, perhaps just a little fond. “You got me some, remember?”

Eddie retrieves a pair from the RV and, that’s right, Steve had forgotten: he’d bought a whole pack during their first grocery trip, after Eddie had made an offhand comment about feeling cold in the boathouse.

Poor guy, Steve had thought as they walked through The Upside Down. This is cold on a whole new level.

The socks are thick and warm. Steve pulls on the boots, relishing the fact that his toes no longer scream in protest as he does so.

He tightens the laces; Eddie’s sat down opposite him again.

“There. Ready for battle,” Steve says.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over the combat boots, then Steve’s whole get-up—and there’s nothing teasing in his gaze now, as if he’s seeing everything in another light. Like the gravity of it all has just hit him.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Battle.”

“Hey, Eddie. Don’t worry.”

Eddie huffs with a wan smile. “Wow. And just like that, I won’t.”

Steve nudges him with his foot. Gentle. “M’not gonna ruin your handiwork.”

Eddie doesn’t reply.

Steve stands, tries a short walk in place. It’ll work. It has to.

“I’d just do it again,” Eddie says suddenly. “If… I—I wouldn’t mind.”

Steve pauses. Offers Eddie a hand and pulls him up.

“I wouldn’t mind either,” Steve says softly.

And then he lets go of Eddie’s hand.

Standing tall, he starts to round everyone up for the drive back—and wishes them all a future of simple fixes: of superficial cracks, easy to patch up.

#little moments of care ❤️ #pre steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[spicycinnabun]

“Steve, something is wrong with Christofern!” Eddie entered Steve’s room, cradling the potted plant in his arms.

He’d come home after work, ready to greet his bud-dy, but one look at him had made Eddie gasp. His leaves were shriveled up like sad little green raisins. Usually, they were puffed up like oversized Rice Krispies.

Christofern had been Robin’s, originally. It had been in a very sorry state on her windowsill before she’d left for college—a lot worse than it looked now, under Eddie’s care, thank you—and she’d told him, “I honestly can’t stand the thing. You keep it. It sheds worse than my aunt’s Great Pyrenees, and I’m tired of vacuuming. Just don’t throw it out, or Steve might murder you.”

And that had been that.

Christofern didn’t look like a typical house plant. He wasn’t a fern, which Steve kept reminding him. Steve was more practical. He didn’t give his plants names but called them by their designated labels.

Christofern was a Donkey’s Tail, or sedum morganianum, part of the succulent family. That term meant absolutely nothing to Eddie unless it was referring to a big bowl of pasta—he had no idea there was a whole plant category called delicious.

“But maybe he wants to be a fern, Steven,” he’d argued. “Ever thought of that? He doesn’t have to be a succulent just because he was assigned so at birth.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had been Steve’s reply.

At first, Eddie had enlisted Steve’s help purely because he’d wanted his attention, and talking about plants was an easy as hell way to get Steve’s attention. Steve was a very passionate plant dad. But later, Eddie grew to love Christofern, and the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for him were almost like raising his own child.

Christofern had not just one but seven long, thickly spiked green tails. Seven tails. He reminded Eddie of a mutated dragon. He was adorable but occasionally grumpy and high-maintenance, like a certain someone Eddie knew. (Perhaps Christofern was more of a prince than a dragon—a dragon prince?)

If he didn’t get enough sunlight, his leaves shed, and he wilted. If he wasn’t rotated daily, he got yellow and sunburnt. And if he didn’t get enough water…

“I swear I watered him... uh, recently.” When had Eddie last watered him? Not the day before, but maybe Wednesday? Or had it been Tuesday? Shit. Eddie pouted. “I just gave him a drink now, anyway. It’s not too late, is it, Doctor Steve?”

He clasped his hands and watched Steve’s attentive eyes rove over his plant, waiting for the diagnosis.

“Eddie, how could you neglect Christofern like this? I should call Plant Protective Services.” Steve grabbed his hand, startling Eddie and his overactive heartbeat.

He took Eddie’s index finger and pushed it into Christofern’s soil right down to his second knuckle. It felt inappropriate. Eddie made a noise, appalled. “Steven, why are you making me violate Christofern?”

Steve ignored him. “What do you feel? The soil is soaked down there, isn’t it?”

Eddie wiggled his finger. It felt goopy. “Yes,” he admitted.

“You’ve overwatered it,” Steve chastised. “Now, the leaves might rot instead of rehydrating themselves. You’ve got to make sure you don’t drown it. Christofern only needs a moderate amount of water every two weeks, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said meekly. “I’m sorry, Christofern.”

Steve pulled his finger out of the soil and gave him a look bordering on amusement. “Leave him with me for a few days, and I’ll get him back to where he should be.”

“Thank you, Doctor Steve. How can I ever repay you?” Eddie imagined repaying Steve with his mouth, his tongue, his hands (after he washed the soil off)…

“You can clean the bathroom,” Steve said.

Eddie’s fantasy shattered. He whined. “Does it have to be that?”

“Yup.”

“Damn it, Steve, just make me suck your dick next time,” Eddie grumbled on his way out.

He missed the way Steve’s jaw dropped.

#fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie au #roommate au #steddie fic #plant dad steve harrington #crack fic #christofern is their love fern #eddie won’t let it die #🪴

[imtryingbuck]

Seven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 6,178

Warnings: fluff, angst, talks of child abuse - heavily. mentions of injuries and scars on a child. swearing

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

He first met her when he was seven.

The day started off as the same as those that came before; wake up, have breakfast, get ready and head to the east wing of his home to begin his tutoring. Have lunch, carry on with the schoolwork, and be done for the day.

Even after he said his goodbyes to Mrs Mars he was still stuck in a routine.

Day in and day out.

However that day was different because it was Friday. Every Friday his best friend Steve came to stay over for the weekend, every weekend they caused havoc. Not that Winnie or George minded, all week they saw their son miserable until his friend arrived on Fridays at 3pm, not a minute earlier and not a minute later. Sadly that hadn’t happened for three weeks as Steve and his ma had to go to Staten Island for a family emergency.

To Bucky Staten Island was on the other side of the world, so when he found out that Steve had to leave for a few weeks - well he kicked off.

He destroyed everything that was in his path, crying and begging his ma to stop Sarah from taking his best friend away. Promising her that if she let Steve live with them that he would be on his best behaviour, forever and ever he promised her.

Once he had exhausted himself out and grew tired the whole house went quiet.

For the three weeks that he didn’t see Steve he was quieter, he sulked at his desk and at the dinner table. He was restless, and as the Fridays approached and went by his attitude only grew worse.

Winnie nearly cried in response to hearing Sarah saying that her and Steve would be leaving the next day. Winnie oddly enough found some comfort in knowing that Steve was acting the same way as her beloved James. Winnie had decided that she wasn’t going to tell James about how on that Friday he was going to be reunited with his best friend, keeping it to herself and her husband in order to surprise him. 

A seven year old Bucky made his way in to the kitchen glaring at his mother when she told him that he needed to come with her, they made their way to the front door just as a knock cut through the silence.

“Open the door sweetie” she told him, ignoring the glare that was coming from her only son.

Not wanting to be in trouble with his father again he complied with his mothers instructions.

Hand on the door handle he opened the door, the frown he wore day in and day out for 21 days vanished when he sees his best friend standing there.

“S-Stevie?”

“Bucky”

“You’re back?”

“I am”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.“

Both Winnie and Sarah watched on as their sons talked and as Bucky pulled Steve into a bone crushing hug - which didn’t last long as Steve started to scuffle up Bucky’s hair, then both of them started to wrestle with one another.

“Come in Sarah, I’ve missed you my friend” They left the two seven year olds wrestling in the foyer.

Their wrestling match came to an abrupt end when Steve’s asthma got the better of him.

He was playing in the backyard with Steve when he felt eyes on him, Bucky chose to ignore the feeling thinking it was just one of the staff members keeping an eye on the pair.

“Buck get the ball” Steve shouted slightly out of breath.

Nodding he turns to where Steve was pointing, frowning at not being able to see it straight away. “Steve I can’t find it!”

“Do that means I win this round?” Steve shouted back.

“No! Why did you have to kick it so hard?”

“Because I’m the best!”

“No you’re not! I’ve found it!”

Bucky bends down to grab the ball, ball under his arm he stops when he hears someone talking. He knows he shouldn’t go and check it out but he’s never really listened to his father, so he drops the ball again and climbs over the fence that separates the woods from his garden.

“-Miss Ladybug come back”

He watches a girl; a little bit smaller than him with wild bushy hair, the dress she wore was ratty and ripped on the bottom. He notices dirt on her arms and neck and that she wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“-Mr Ant that tickles, what have you been up to today?”

“Ants don’t talk.”

“You scared me!”

He watches her spin around to face him, his eyes widen when he sees the dark bruise around her eye and her bottom lip having dried blood on it.

However even at seven years old he likes the bright colour of her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m Bucky what’s your name?”

“Y/n, Ducky’s a weird name”

“It’s Bucky not Ducky”

“Can I call you Ducky?”

“Fine. But I get to call you…um Bunny!”

“But my names not Bunny it’s Y/n”

“My names not Ducky but I’m letting you call me that. So Bunny what are you doing?”

The girl waves him over and smiles “Look Miss Ladybug and Mr Ant are friends”

“They can’t be friends”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense, Miss Ladybug should be friends with other ladybugs and not ants.”

“They can be friends.”

“They can’t”

“Yes the can!”

“Whatever. Why don’t you have shoes on?” He asks changing the subject.

“I don’t have any, what are you doing here?”

“Why don’t you have any shoes?”

“My parents are poor.”

“Mine are rich”

“Oh. I guess you live in that house over there?”

“Yeah, where’s your house?”

“On the other side of the woods. It’s super small and poorly”

“How can a house be poorly?”

“I don’t know but that’s what my mama says. Do you want to play fairies with me?”

From where they were stood they called hear Steve calling for Bucky, he watches as her smile fades slowly.

“I’ve can’t, got to go back to my friend. I can see you tomorrow?”

“Okay!” She beams up at him.

“Bye Bunny”

“Bye Ducky”

She watches him as he walks away, her tiny arm still waving side to side long after he climbs over the fence.

“Buck what took you so long?” Steve questions from his place on the ground.

“I-I met someone Stevie” Sitting down next to his friend.

“What do you mean?”

“Her names Y/n-“

“Her? A girl?”

“Yes a girl. She’s pretty Stevie, b-but she had bruises on her face and arms I thought it was mud at first but I got closer-“

“You met a girl that is pretty?”

Rolling his eyes “stop butting in! But yes, real pretty. I like her eyes”

“Bucky loves a girl, Bucky loves a girl-“ Steve sings as he runs around the garden.

“No I don’t!” Bucky shouts as he runs around after the blonde.

The next day Bucky leaves Steve in the living room so he could draw, his asthma had worsen over night so he wasn’t up to playing games.

“Go and see your girlfriend”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“But you love her”

“I don’t love her Steve! Stop saying that. I’ll be back soon okay?”

“Okay, have fun”

Climbing over the fence he wasted no time in going to the spot he had saw her the day before, frowning when he couldn’t see her.

“Y/n? Bunny?”

“Up here Ducky”

He looks up and sees her sitting on the branch of the many trees that filled the woods.

“What are you doing up there?”

“Hiding”

“From what?”

“The monsters”

“What monsters?”

“The worst kind of monsters” He’s about to reply when she drops down from where she was perched “they call themselves the tickle monsters!”

She laughs at his deadpanned look. “How old are you Bunny?”

“Six, you?”

“Seven. Can I ask you something?”

“Okay”

“What happened to your face?”

“My father is not nice. He drinks special juice and gets mad”

Bucky stands and watches her twiddle her fingers, feeling bad about asking her that question but he was curious.

“He gets mad and hurts me, I don’t know why but I don’t think he likes me very much. Do you like me?” She continues and asks.

“I like you. You’re my friend Bunny” Smiling when he sees her smile.

“I’ve never had a real friend before. Your my friend Ducky”

“I have another friend his name is Steve, he gets poorly a lot”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure but he’s great” Bucky states as he picks up a twig off the ground.

“Would he be my friend too?” Y/n asks and copies what he did, waving the twig around in the air.

“Maybe”

“I would like that.”

Y/n took him to her favourite spots in the woods, introducing him to the animals she named. He liked it, liked her.

“It’s getting colder” he says as they walk around.

“It is. You should go home, I’ll walk you”

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay out later my mama is at her job and I don’t want to go home just yet”

“What about food? You need to have dinner”

“I’ll eat some berries like always, father doesn’t know how to cook not like my mama”

“You can come with me if you want, my ma wont mind”

“I’m dirty but it’s okay. Will I see you tomorrow Ducky?”

“Your smelly too and yeah I’ll see you tomorrow”

“You’re smelly!” She giggles.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Bunny”

“See you tomorrow Ducky”

The next day after Bucky, Steve and their parents got back from church he ran into the kitchen to ask the cook to make him some sandwiches. Saying his thanks he leaves Steve once again to go and see his Bunny.

“Bunny what happened?” He says as he see her in the same spot they keep meeting in.

One side of her face was swollen with dried blood splatters darted across her face. Her left eye was completely swollen shut and her lip had been split again.

“Ducky you’re here! I’ve been waiting ages”

“I’m here Bunny but what happened?”

“I thought you wasn’t coming”

“Y/n what happened to your face?”

“My father got mad last night when I came home. I like your clothes”

“I had to go church, why was he mad?”

“He ran out of his special juice” she shrugged one shoulder.

“Have you had any food today?”

“Just a few berries. I won’t be able to play today my arm really poorly”

“I brought you some sandwiches the cook made them”

“You can eat them Ducky”

“It’s for you, eat and I’ll take you to my home and have my ma look at your arm”

“I can’t”

“Why not?”

“I’m dirty…I don’t want to get mud in your home, I’ll be okay promise”

“Don’t be silly Bunny, eat”

He watches as she carefully undoes the foil that kept the sandwiches safe, her eyes going up to his he smiles and nods. “We’ll have to take the long way round I don’t think you can climb the fence”

“It will get better just like last time Ducky, I’ll be okay. Thank you for the food”

“My ma can help she’s a nurse”

“I-I…I’ll be fine Ducky I swear it”

Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He was going to drag Bunny home to get his ma’s help whether she liked it or not. He didn’t know why but he felt such an overwhelming urge to protect her, he didn’t want her to have bruises on her pretty face anymore or see her pretty eyes sad.

He’s only known her for a few days and all he wants is for her to be safe.

Bucky watches silently as she devours the ham sandwiches, regret washing over him when he realises he forgot to bring a drink with him for her to have.

“Thank you Ducky, it was very yummy” she says as soon as she swallows the last bit of food.

“It’s okay Bun-“

The rest of his sentence dies on the tip of his tongue, Y/n looks at him with wide eyes, the fear drowns him whole at the monstrous booming voice coming from the other side of the woods.

“Y/n! Get home now you bitch!”

“I-I-I have t-to go. Bye Bucky” she whispers as she stands up on shaky legs.

“Bunny come with me” he whispers back afraid to speak any louder the monster will get him and his Bunny. He leans on his knees to hold her good hand as a way to get her to stay with him and not to go towards the voice that echos over the silent woods.

“I-I can’t-“

“Get back here you fucking cunt!” The voice sounds again, angrier and louder this time.

“Bye Bucky” She pulls her hand away and takes off running towards the monster that awaits her. Bucky can only watch, scared for his friend, his Bunny.

The woods fall silent once again.

On Monday after he was released from Mrs Mars’s clutches he runs into the kitchen to ask the cook if she could make sandwiches once again. Saying his thanks he runs through the doors and into the garden and over the fence.

“Bunny?”

No response.

Looking up in the trees to see if she was hiding again his shoulders sagged in defeat when she wasn’t there.

So he waited. And waited. And waited.

It was getting dark and truth be told he was kind of scared of the tall trees that looked mean and scary in the darkness.

Reluctantly he left, slowly putting one foot in front of the other just to see if she’ll come back to see him, before he knew it he was back at the fence.

Tuesday he did his whole routine and once again asking the cook for sandwiches he takes off to the woods.

“Y/n? Bunny it’s Ducky…”

No response.

This time he ventured further in and went to the places Y/n had shown him, coming up empty he made his way back to the spot. The hope he had disappearing when she wasn’t there waiting for him.

So he waited. And waited. And waited.

Like the day before he took his time in reaching the fence, however moving just as slower in hopes of hearing her voice.

It didn’t happen.

It was Wednesday and like the past two days he repeats his actions. Frustration and sadness are the only emotions he feels when he sees that she’s not there once again.

Bucky repeated his actions for two weeks straight. On the first Friday he had even took Steve over the fence in hopes that if she senses that he brought his friend with him that she’d come back to him. Steve thought he was going crazy, honestly. He generally thought that Bucky had made the whole thing up just to mess with him.

It was Saturday and it had been almost three weeks without seeing her. Bucky thought Steve was right about him making it up, he thought that maybe she was his imaginary friend but she looked, sounded and felt so real.

Bucky promised Steve that this would be the last day that he ventured out into the woods to try and find her. After helping Steve over the fence he climbed over and both made their way to the designated spot.

They’d been out there for a while when Steve spoke up.

“Buck come on she’s not real”

“But she is. I know she is”

“Let’s go please it’s really cold”

He was right, the winter air was getting colder now. Nodding he turns around and helps Steve off the ground, walking back in the direction of his home Steve speaks again.

“What did you say?”

“What?”

“Did you not just say something?”

“No what did you hea-“

In the distance he hears the voice that he had been wanting to hear for three weeks now, the voice belonging to Bunny.

“D-Ducky!”

He spins around and his heart drops. She’s there, getting closer to him and Steve. Her smile takes up most of her face as she limps as fast as she could towards the two boys.

“Bunny!” He says just as he takes off running towards her. His legs pushing him faster than ever before.

Once she was in reach he wasted no time in pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her, just like he seen his father do to his ma.

“Sweet Bunny you’re here” he lightly pants into her bushy hair.

“I’ve missed you Ducky”

“I’ve missed you too Bunny”

Steve stands just off to the side watching the scene in front of him. She’s real and his best friend isn’t crazy he thinks to himself.

Bucky slowly pulls away from her, his smile fading at seeing the damage and pain caused to her face close up. A cough from the side of them have their attention taken away from one another to the blonde standing there.

“Y/n this is Steve my best friend, Steve this is Y/n my Bunny”

“Hi it’s nice to meet you” Steve says waving awkwardly.

“Hi. Will you be my friend too?” Y/n asks shyly, burrowing in closer to Bucky’s embrace.

“Yeah but you have to be mine too”

“Yes!”

Bucky smiles before turning his full attention to Y/n. “Bunny…what happened?”

“I wasn’t allowed to come out. I was naughty”

“D-did your father do this?”

“Yeah. Hey look I lost two teeth” she smiled baring her teeth, and sure enough she was missing her two front ones.

“Where did you lose them?” Bucky chuckles.

“I don’t know” she shrugs with a giggle.

“Bunny I’m going to take you to my ma and she’ll take care of your face”

“It’s fine Ducky I promise”

“Ducky?” Steve questions with a small laugh following.

“His name is Ducky and I’m Bunny” she says proudly.

“That’s cute!”

“Steve. Shut up. Bunny come on”

Both boys have to convince Y/n to follow them and accept help, Bucky notices the limp she has was getting worse as they walked back to the fence and he worries that if they go the long way around she’s going to be in more pain so he tells his two friends that he’s going to help Y/n over the fence first then he’ll help Steve.

Easier said than done.

After struggling to pull himself over the fence for what felt like the hundredth time he gently took Bunny’s hand in his and marched off as if he was on a mission.

“D-Ducky…what if your ma doesn’t want to help and we can’t be friends anymore” She whispers as the trio get closer to the huge house.

“She will help you I promise and we’ll always be friends Bunny don’t worry”

Steve opens the door that leads into the kitchen and holds it open for the two, shutting it behind him he follows closely. Ignoring the muddy footprints that Y/n leaves behind her.

The trio follows the sound of music that comes from the living room, when they reach the room they see Bucky’s parents slow dancing to the hum of the song.

Bucky rolls his eyes.

Steve looks down at his shoes.

Y/n watches with a smile gracing her lips, her eyes following their movements.

“Ma” Bucky says loudly startling the couple.

“Jame-oh my goodness, James who is this and what happened?” Winnie starts before her eyes land on Y/n. Detaching herself from George she moves closer to the girl.

“This is Y/n she needs help Ma”

Winnie lands on her knees with a soft thud in front of Y/n, her hands going slowly and gently to the little girls arms - noticing her hand linked together with her sons. “Hello sweetie, I’m Winnie I’m going to clean your wounds for you okay? Would you like to come with me please?”

“O-okay” she says hesitantly her eyes going from Winnie’s to Bucky’s who nods and smiles at her.

Winnie takes her free hand in hers and waits for Bucky to untangle his fingers from the girl, she leads her upstairs to the bathroom, speaking softly to the girl as they go.

“This will sting sweetie but I’ll be as gentle as I can be, let me know if I’m hurting you okay” she says after she’s sat Y/n on the closed lid of the toilet.

“Okay”

Winnie takes a few wipes from the packet and moves closer to the girl who sits there swinging her legs back and forth. Slowly wiping the ray of cuts that cover the girls face she can’t help but wonder who would hurt such a beautiful creature.

“My son James, he didn’t do this did he?” Hating herself for even asking but she had to be sure.

“No Miss, m-my father is not nice”

“Your father did this?” Halting her movements she watches as the girl nods. “Where’s your mother?”

“Mama goes to her job”

“Where does she work?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in two weeks, do you know where she is?”

Oh how Winnie’s heart breaks.

“I haven’t sweetie, does your father hurt your mama?”

“Yes. Did you know that Ducky’s my friend”

“Ducky?”

“Bucky”

Winnie chuckles which causes Y/n to giggle “you call him Ducky?”

“Yes and he calls me Bunny. Why did you call him James Miss?”

“Call me Winnie darling and because James is first name, his middle name is Buchanan but Stevie calls him Bucky”

“And I call him Ducky” Y/n giggles loudly.

“You do. Sweetie do you have any more cuts that I need to clean?”

Winnie watches as her face drops and as she scoots further back on the toilet. Clutching her tatty dress a little tighter in her tiny hands.

“I-I can help you Y/n, it’s okay I promise”

“Yo-you won’t be mad?”

“No my love I won’t be mad”

Y/n pushes herself off the seat until she stands up, her eyes finding the tiled flooring more interesting as her hands pull the bottom of her dress further up her thin body.

Winnie had to slap her hand across her mouth as she sees the unmistakable light red lines of scars mapping across the girls’ very thin, bruised thighs.

“Sw-Sweetie, i-is there more?” Her heart cracking as Y/n nods again, pulling her dress further up until Winnie had to help in pulling the whole ratty thing off her.

She fights with herself trying to keep the tears at bay as her eyes dart around from one scar to the next. She fights off the thought of how any of them happened out of her head, she knows if she let that thought in she wouldn’t be able to sleep ever again.

“M-my father gets mad when he runs out of his special juice. It’s my fault because I’m a stupid bitch a-and a worthless cunt” her eyes go to the ceiling as she remembers the words that her father calls her most days.

“No no no my sweetie, you are none of them things you hear me? Y/n you are such a sweet girl, oh come here my sweet baby” Winnie says as she brings the girl into her warm embrace gently wrapping her arms around Y/n’s slim body, pressing light kisses to her forehead. She lets the tears fall freely.

Since Y/n wasn’t so use to feeling of loving hands on her she tenses up. She was confused by Winnie’s words and affection all she wanted was her Ducky.

After a while Winnie pulls away, wiping her tears with the backs of her hands she stands up on shaky legs. “I’m going to run you a nice hot bath, it will help. I promise” she turns to where the bathtub sat when she felt small hands tug lightly on her dress. Looking down she sees Y/n standing looking scared.

“It’s okay, here take my hand”

Filling the bathtub full of water she lets Y/n pull her underwear down and Winnie helps her into the tub.

“I’m just going to ask George to get some clothes for you and I’ll help you wash your hair okay? I’ll be right back I promise”

“O-okay”

“Bucky who’s that girl?”

“Y/n” he says as he watches his ma and Bunny go upstairs, he starts to follow when his fathers hand stops him.

“I know but who is she? Where did you find her?”

“In the woods-“

“You’re not suppose to go out there!” George scolds.

“I know! But I did and she’s my friend now”

Bucky really doesn’t understand what the big deal is, okay so he disobeyed his fathers order of not going over the fence but if he didn’t he wouldn’t have met Y/n.

George sighs and crouches down to his sons level “son what would have happened if you fell or hurt yourself and me and your mother couldn’t get to you huh? Listen son I’m not that mad at you okay, I just worry”

“I-I’m sorry dad”

“It’s okay. Do you know who’s hurt her?”

“Her father” he spits out in disgust “he drinks special juice and he hurts my Bunny!”

George is puzzled by what this special juice could of been before it clicks, sighing at the memories of him calling the alcohol that his father use to drink when he was younger comes up after so many years of repressing the memories.

“Oh son-“

“It’s not fair dad, why does he do it? She’s amazing and pretty and funny and weird and she’s my friend and sh-she’s my Bunny-“

“James breath! Come on son breathe with me a-and Steve, watch what we’re doing. There you go, oh come here sweet boy” George says seeing the tears fall from his sons eyes, pulling him into his arms he lets his son cry.

He hears sniffles coming from the side of him and he sees Steve crying too so he wastes no time in opening his arms for his unofficial adopted son for him to run into the hug too.

They stay in the hug before Bucky pulls away first, wiping his tears “dad can we go up and wait for ma to finish? I-I want to be with Bunny p-please”

“Of course, come on” he holds his hands out for his sons to place theirs in his before moving towards and up the stairs.

George and Steve sit down on the wooden floor as they watch Bucky pace back and forth, his eyes going from the bathroom door to the floor and back again.

“Dad what’s taking so long?”

“I’m not sure son, it’s okay though your mother knows what she’s doing don’t worry”

“It’s been so long though”

“Bucky come and sit down and tell me why you call her Bunny, ay?”

“She calls him Ducky, George” Steve giggles and George has to stifle his laugh as Bucky glares at Steve.

“Ducky, um strange. So Bunny?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and sits down next to his father “she calls me Ducky because she said Bucky was a strange name, I call her Bunny because she’s cute…like a bunny.” He shrugs, lightly tapping his knees with his fingers.

“I think Bucky loves Bunny” Steve tries and fails to whisper to George.

“I don’t love her Steven!”

“You sure James?”

“I. Do. No. Love. Her!” Bucky growls.

“Boys calm down, Steve stop winding Bucky up about him loving Bunny and Bucky just admit you love her” George laughs which gets slightly louder as Bucky starts hitting him.

“I do not! That’s gross! Girls are gross”

“Girls aren’t gross James”

“Yes they are. Bunny’s yucky”

Steve and George share a look full of mischief just as they start chanting “Bucky loves Bunny”.

“I hate you both!” Bucky says standing up to begin his pacing again.

“Buck we’re only messing with you” George starts “your right girls are gross and yucky”

“Dad can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can”

“Can Bunny live with us? I’ll be extra good and I won’t ask for anything for my birthday or for Christmas I promise”

“I-I’m not sure son-“

“Why not? Please dad-“

“Because she has parents Bucky-“

“Her dad hurts her!”

“She has a mother?”

“Yeah but-“

“Bucky-“

“I’ll run away and I’ll take Bunny with me.”

Sighing whilst sliding his hands down his face George is about to reply when the bathroom door opens, Winnie waving him over.

“Is Bunny okay ma?”

“She is darling I just need to talk to your father for a second”

“Can I see her?”

“Not yet, she’s in the bath. George can you go and get some clothes from James’s room please”

“Of course my love”

Bucky and Steve watches as George heads down the corridor and slipping into Bucky’s bedroom, not long after he comes back with a red checkered pants and a woolly sweater and some socks.

“Will this be okay?”

“Yes, thank you. How about you take the boys downstairs and start doing dinner? Make enough so that Y/n can join us” Winnie smiles trying not to look George in his eyes knowing that he’ll know that she’s been crying and she really didn’t want the boys knowing that their friend is covered in scars.

“Come boys you can help me, you have to make sure I don’t burn the house down”

Bucky waits until Steve and his dad is a little further down the hallway, turning to his mom he cocks his head to the side. “Ma…is she really okay?”

“She will be James, you should be proud of yourself for bringing her home to get help”

“Yeah…Ma I already asked dad but can Y/n live with us? I’ll be extra good I swear!”

“We-I-Bucky please go downstairs and help your father and Stevie with dinner”

Huffing loudly he nods and heads to the kitchen.

Winnies heart breaks as the hope vanishing from her sons eyes at the prospect of Y/n living with them. She couldn’t lie that the thought of having her in their home where she was safe and protected hadn’t crossed her mind, sadly she knew she just couldn’t kidnap the child no matter how bad her home life was.

“These belong to James but you can wear them, let’s get you cleaned up before we have some dinner”

After carefully cleaning Y/n’s body with the sponge and lavender body wash Winnie took her time in washing the girls hair, slowly untangling the knots apologising every time she snagged a rough one.

Once cleaned, dried and wearing warm clothes Winnie started on brushing Y/n’s hair, taking her time once again as the girls hair was curly and bushier than before.

“All done my sweetie. Let’s go and get some food in our tummies, yeah?”

“A-are you sure Miss?”

“Of course, you must be hungry”

Y/n nods and holds out her hand for Winnie to take, the woman does so with a smile on her lips and leads them downstairs to the kitchen. Steve was the first one to notice Winnie and Y/n standing at the archway he had to blink a few times to make sure it was really his new friend standing there.

“Buck” Steve whispers towards Bucky.

“What?” He whispers back.

“Look”

“Wha-Bunny!” Bucky noticing the blonde staring off so his bright blue eyes followed, landing on Y/n. Dropping the cutlery on the side he rushes over instantly pulling her in for a hug. “You smell nice an-and your hair isn’t wild no more”

“I had a bath Ducky!” She beams proudly, hugging him just as tight as he was.

Winnie’s eyes found George’s smiling sadly at her husband as she moves closer to him.

Steve stands there for a few minutes before slowly moving towards his friends and wrapping his arms around the pair.

“It’s called spaghetti and it’s nice” Bucky says showing Y/n how to twirl her fork around the food, after he had to stop her from picking up the food with her hands.

“It looks like wormies” she giggles.

“It’s nicer then worms Bunny”

She soon gets the hang of twirling the spaghetti around the fork and everyone’s taken back by the fact she’s the first one to eat every last bit of the home cooked meal.

“Would you like seconds Y/n? There’s plenty more left” George says already standing up to place more on her plate.

“Seconds?” She asks.

“It means you can have more Bunny” Bucky informs her.

“I-I-am I allowed Ducky?”

“Yeah, do you want so more?”

“Yes. It’s very yummy”

George piles more food on her plate, feeling rather proud of himself that someone likes his cooking - at the weekends the staff have the two days off and normally Winnie takes over cooking, on the rare occasions that George cooks everybody complains about it being burnt or undercooked.

“Thank you Mr” Y/n whispers before digging in again.

Her plate is once again empty before anyone else’s.

Y/n sits patiently waiting for Bucky to finish, her eyes fluttering around the room looking from one thing to the next when her eyes dart straight to Winnie who’s sitting there chuckling, Y/n has no idea what is funny but she starts to giggle too smiling widely at the woman.

“Darling what’s so funny?” George asks from his seat at the end of the table.

“Sweetie look at James for me” Winnie tells Y/n so she does. Bucky bursts out laughing when his Bunny looks at him with spaghetti sauce covering her lower face…and somehow a bit on her eyebrow.

“Bunny you’re messy again” Bucky laughs, taking his napkin and lightly and as gently as he could he starts rubbing the sauce off her face.

“Sorry”

“It’s okay Bun, all…clean”

“It just means that you enjoyed your dinner” George tells her.

“It was yummy. Thank you Mr Ducky’s dad”

“You can call me George sweetheart”

After dinner was done, they move into the living room, Bucky helps Y/n onto the couch and he sits next to her. Steve sitting on the other side of Y/n.

“Ma, dad can Y/n live with us now?”

“James I’ve told you it’s not that simple son” George starts before looking over at Winnie silently begging her to help him out.

“Your fathers right darling, she has a mama who is probably worried about her”

“But-“

“No buts James-“

“Please Ma”

“It’s okay Ducky, my father has gone away until Wednesday I’ll be okay and I’ll get to see you tomorrow and the next day”

“Sweetie…what do you mean? Where’s he gone?” Winnie asks.

“He said he had to go to Mexico for work, do you know where Mexico is? It’s super far away!”

“And where’s your mama?”

“I’m not sure I’ve not seen her in two weeks Miss Winnie doesn’t know where she is, do you know?”

“N-no I don’t sweetheart. Is there anyone at your house?”

“No”

“Who would be looking after you whilst your father is away?” Winnie then asks.

“No one, I have to go to my spot in the woods like before”

Winnie looks at George in what can be described as horror. George looks at Bucky who just shrugs.

“The spot you took me to Bunny?”

“Yeah…do I go now Ducky?”

“No!” Winnie and George shouts causing the three children to jump further backwards in their seats.

“No, we meant you can stay with us until Wednesday w-when your father gets back” Winnie says quietly.

“Yes!” Bucky cheers pulling Y/n under his arm “it’s going to be so much fun Bunny!”

Y/n giggles and nods.

Winnie tucks Y/n into bed in one of the spare rooms, she sits on the bed looking at the little girl as she brushes her hair out of her face.

“Are you okay sweetie?”

“Yeah, thank you Miss Winnie”

“You don’t need to thank me darling, would you like me to leave the light on for you?”

“No it’s okay”

“Okay, I’ll leave the door cracked open a little bit for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Night night my sweet girl, I’ll see you tomorrow” she bends down and places a kiss to the girls forehead. Winnie freezes by the door staring into the darkness as she hears-

“Night night mama”

She meets George in the living room where she breaks down crying, telling him what she had saw on the tiny body belonging to Bucky’s friend, her husband holds her and cries himself.

A few glasses of wine later they head to bed themselves, Winnie stopping as she sees Y/n’s door fully shut, opening the wooden door she smiles at seeing her son in bed with Y/n, holding her tightly in his arms.

George comes up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and smiles. Whispering to her that they should go to bed, Winnie closes the door quietly.

“Night night my sweet Bunny” Bucky whispers into the darkness, kissing her forehead lightly, he heads off to dreamland.

Next>

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #marvel fic #bucky barnes series #Bucky Barnes angst #Bucky Barnes fluff #Through The Years #bucky barnes x y/n #James Barnes #james barnes x you #bucky series #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes female reader

[solarmorrigan]

You know how cats seem to have an innate sense of when you’re about to get up, and they choose that exact moment to sit down on your lap? And no sooner have they made themselves comfortable than you realize that you have to go to the bathroom, or someone calls you over, or the phone starts ringing, and you have to shove the poor cat off your lap?

That’s basically Eddie’s sex life right now.

Well alright, no, not entirely, but – it’s a component that’s certainly starting to become an irritation.

It’s just that Steve has a wonderful lap.

At least, Eddie assumes it’s wonderful. It’s wonderfully inviting, at the very least; it’s wide enough to offer Eddie (who is not quite as generously endowed in the whole… thighs-ass department, he’ll admit) a good seat, and he’s had his hands on the area often enough to know it’s firm but with just the right amount of give to be very comfortable.

But Eddie’s never actually gotten to spend much time on it.

He doesn’t even mean that in a sexual way (although that much is also true). Every time he’s so much as tried to plop himself down on Steve’s lap to do something as innocent as watch a movie, Steve seems to remember something he needs to get up and do within just a few minutes.

For a little while, Eddie had been worried about what that meant. Did Steve not want to spend time with him? Did Steve not want Eddie near him? Did Steve not find him attractive? Did Steve just find him annoying?

But further time spent together has given Eddie more confidence. Clearly Steve enjoys spending time with him—submits to it willingly and often—and does find Eddie annoying but in a way he enjoys. Steve also most definitely finds Eddie attractive (and, in fact, has no trouble at all spending extended time on Eddie’s lap). So at this point, it’s more of a puzzle. A frustration.

It can’t be that Eddie’s too heavy for him; Eddie isn’t a small guy, really, but he isn’t huge, either. He’s seen Steve push and pull bigger people around – hell, he’s seen Steve carry Mike a good ways through the woods and back to the car after the kid had slipped and twisted his ankle when they’d been out walking (an incident which none of them are allowed to speak of ever, for varying reasons of blackmail and dignity), and he’s not too much smaller than Eddie.

Eddie is nothing if not a direct sort of guy, though – if he’s thinking something, he’s going to say it. This is mostly because he has very little brain-to-mouth filter, but he’s learned to make it part of his image. He’s pretty sure it works for him.

All of this to say that one afternoon, as they make out on Steve’s couch, Eddie freshly settled on Steve’s lap, Eddie decides to just… ask.

He waits until he can feel Steve’s hands sliding down around his thighs—not groping, but with the intent to move him—before he pulls back to say anything.

“Hey,” he says—gasps, really, still a little breathless with his attempt to seize the opportunity, “question.”

Steve blinks up at him, startled. “Uh. Shoot.”

“Do you not like it, when I sit on your lap? Because it kinda seems like you find other places to be when I try to make that happen.”

If Steve had been startled before, that’s nothing on how he looks now. He covers it in an instant, but Eddie’s seen it; Steve’s good, he’s very good, but Eddie is literally right in his face.

“What?” Steve pulls back, brows drawn in confusion. “No. Why would I have a problem with you being in my lap?”

Eddie shrugs. “Not a damn clue. That’s why I figured I’d ask. It’s just that whenever I get myself settled here, you suddenly remember you have to get up.”

“I don’t do that,” Steve scoffs, throwing in a good-natured eye roll.

“You kinda do, babe,” Eddie says, keeping it light; this isn’t an argument, nor an accusation – it’s literally just a question, and he doesn’t want to scare Steve off.

“So you’re saying, that every time I have my boyfriend on my lap – a guy I find insanely hot, by the way,” Steve’s hand slide back up Eddie’s thighs, edging towards his ass, and this time he’s groping, “you’re saying I don’t want him there, is that right?”

Eddie’s resolve almost breaks as Steve stares up at him with his ridiculous, pretty eyes (he’s good, he’s very good, Eddie will give him that) and tugs him closer with his ridiculous, strong hands, but he knows Steve is lying. He knows it.

He just doesn’t know why.

And isn’t that interesting? Eddie wouldn’t exactly call Steve an open book, but they know each other pretty well by now; Eddie can usually read Steve, but he has no idea what he’s thinking just at the moment.

So he decides to allow it.

He’ll see where it goes.

“Hm,” Eddie hums, as if he’s thinking. “That does sound a little silly, if you put it like that.”

“Completely silly.” Steve grins up at him, but there’s a thread of very genuine sincerity in what he says next. “Of course I want you here.”

And Eddie’s not sure what to say to that, so he leans back in to kiss Steve again.

And for a while, it’s fine. Great, even. Steve is a very good kisser, after all, and Eddie likes to think he’s no slouch himself, and a good time is being had by all, except before too long Eddie can feel Steve starting to tense up under him.

Once again, Eddie doesn’t mean this in a sexual way.

It’s not the fun, anticipatory kind of tensing, but the ready to run or punch something kind of tensing. The kind of tension that comes from a threat, not from having your boyfriend on your lap.

Eddie waits to see if Steve will do anything, say anything, but he does nothing. His kisses grow more distracted, quicker and shallower, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t push Eddie away.

It’s when Steve starts shaking that Eddie gives up.

“Okay,” Eddie pulls away, shifting himself to the side so he doesn’t have more than an ankle draped over Steve’s legs, “what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who pulled away,” Steve snaps.

“Yeah, because it feels like you don’t want me up there,” Eddie shoots back.

Steve rolls his eyes again, irritated this time. “What, you don’t like it if I don’t let you sit on my lap, you don’t like it if I do let you sit on my lap– What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Maybe just the goddamn truth.”

Whatever Eddie expects, it isn’t for Steve to just… stare at him.

He stares at Eddie for a good five seconds in full silence before shaking his head. “No,” he says quietly, “you don’t want that.”

His sudden reticence only sparks Eddie’s irritation. “Don’t tell me what I do or don’t want, Steve. You don’t want to tell me, that’s on you, but don’t decide for me what I don’t want to know.”

“Well what do you think you’re going to hear, Eddie, huh?” Steve barks. “What do you want to hear? You wanna hear how Billy Hargrove sat on me – pinned me down while he beat me unconscious? Or you wanna hear how it felt to be handcuffed to a fucking chair while some Russians– while they– how it felt to be held down and not be able to stop them from doing anything?”

Steve has stood up now, pacing in front of Eddie, and Eddie wishes he could do anything other than fucking stare while his boyfriend has some kind of breakdown that he started.

“Or – or how about how I ruined multiple dates, or hookups, or whatevers when someone tried to sit themselves down on top of me and I damn near shoved them off onto the floor and then had to make up some dumb fucking excuse and run out on them before I had some kind of fucking panic attack? You wanna hear all that?” Steve demands, rounding back on Eddie. “No! You don’t… you don’t want to hear that.”

“Steve… no, I don’t wanna hear all that,” Eddie says, and hurries on when he can see Steve practically crumple in on himself, “I don’t want to hear that all that horrible shit has happened to you, but I need to.”

“Wh– what?”

“You don’t… I mean, you don’t have to give me specifics if you don’t want, but I need to know what might set you off so I don’t accidentally do it, okay?” Eddie says. “It fucking terrifies me that you went through all that, and I know I can’t do anything about it, but I’m at least not going to be one more thing that makes you hurt. I’m gonna make damn sure of that.”

“…Oh.”

It’s clearly not what Steve was expecting to hear, and for a moment he shifts uncertainly in front of Eddie. He wraps his arms around himself before seeming to think better of it and crossing them over his chest instead. Eddie wants nothing more than to draw him close and hold him, but Steve’s not quite ready yet.

“I’m not… I didn’t want to say anything. I don’t want it to be an issue,” Steve finally says.

I don’t want you to treat me differently, he doesn’t say.

“Then we won’t make it an issue.” Eddie shrugs. “You got some kind of trauma associated with sitting on other people, or can you come back over here to me?”

Steve blinks at Eddie, startled, before he gives in to a little huff of laughter, slowly crossing back over to the couch.

“You’re an ass,” he says, all fondness.

“Mm, so I’ve been told,” Eddie says, aiming a smug smile up at Steve as Steve settles himself right over Eddie’s lap. “And yet, here you are.”

“Yeah…” Steve leans in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth, quirking a little smile as he pulls away. “Here I am.”

#This week on Steve's Got Trauma: whatever this is #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #this got a bit sappier than intended but here we are I guess #solar wrote #eddiesteve

[espinosaurusrexex]

!this is a repost because something was wrong with the original!

Thank you so much! I had a lot of fun with this. Already looking forward to all the other imagines lined up 🥰

Secret Relationship (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Female!Avenger!Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: fluffy af, little angst

Your eyes stared over the coffee mug at him from across the room. He was stealing glances over to the kitchen in which you sat as Sam and Tony tried to convince him to meet the smoking hot yoga teacher bachelorette the two of them had found for him this week. 

You felt a little bad for him, to be honest. Bucky seemed exhausted from their constant nagging. It was weird to see the two men together like this. Normally, Tony and Sam would just pass in the hallway with subtle nods. But when it came to finding a woman for Bucky, the two could be mistaken for best friends. 

“Her name is Ronda and she is hot.”

“Mhm. Gives hot yoga a whole new meaning.”

“That’s right. And she’s willing to meet you!”

“Well, I’m not willing.”

“Why are you always like this, Bucky? We go out and we find you a nice girl and you decline every time.”

“Maybe he’s like this because Dr. No over here isn’t getting laid. Which is why you should go on this date.”

“I don’t need to get laid to be in a good mood, Tony.”

“We don’t know that. You’re always grumpy and you’re most certainly not getting laid. Doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.”

“Oh, that definitely isn’t a coincidence.”

“I’m a scientist I know that stuff.”

“Yeah, he’s a scientist. Listen to him.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

But Bucky was panicking, you could see it in his eyes. He wanted to say it, that he didn’t want to go on dates because was already dating you. But you had forbidden him from doing so. It was better this way, and he had not spoken up when you suggested keeping your relationship a secret for now. 

With a small smirk, you got off your chair.

“Have you two geniuses ever thought about your annoying banter being the reason for his bad mood?” You sauntered past the men with your mug still in hand, the other slightly grazing Bucky’s back on your way to the door. You could feel his muscles relax just from the small touch. 

“How are we being annoying? We are literally helping him get some.”

“I don’t need to get any!” 

That was the last thing you heard Bucky shout frustratedly when you entered the hallway, a small chuckle leaving your lips before you went to your room to finish the report you had yet to hand in. 

-❁-

It wasn’t long before Bucky entered your room with an exhausted sigh. He leaned against the closed door when you looked up and then proceeded to approach you at your desk, where he leaned over your shoulder, arms caging you to his chest and chin nuzzling in your neck. 

“They’re the worst,” he mumbled into your sweater before placing small kisses along your neck. 

“I know, baby.” You stroked his arms. “For the geniuses, they claim to be, they’re really hardheaded.”

“I feel like it’s just me they’re bothering with this. For all they know, you are single too.”

Another pang went through your chest. Bucky had not been part of the team for long. And you had spared him all of the details about most members that Steve hadn’t already told him about. 

There was a reason why Tony and Sam didn’t suggest eligible partners to you, and that was because you had multiple suitors amongst the team and beyond already. If you wanted to have someone, they just assumed you would get them. Not to mention the total embarrassment they had witnessed when you had rejected Pietro in front of the team during movie night. You hadn’t meant to, but he had sprung it upon you without warning, and you hadn’t wanted to lead him on. 

Then there was Peter, the intern, that harbored a silly schoolboy crush on you since he had gotten his first action figure of you, and letting him down gently was harder than you had thought. Tony and Sam, especially, had gotten amusement from the frequent serenades and suggestive fan mail you received. They even suggested an “open mail + wine night” for their personal entertainment one time. And, well, you didn’t say no to wine and gossip. 

But despite all this, it wasn’t the reason why you wanted to keep your relationship a secret. Bucky had been closed up from the very first time Steve introduced him to the team. It had taken two months for him to reply to simple questions such as if he wanted coffee, too. But somehow, you had the honor of being the first person he trusted after Steve. And once you had gotten to know him better, he was the sweetest person ever. Caring, funny, charming - very touchy. But you were scared this would go away once everyone started teasing him about it. So yes, it might have been to protect Bucky, but it felt more and more like personal gain to you. 

“I want you to know that I don’t need Yoga Brenda, or Coffeeshop Mandy, or anyone else. I just wanna tell them that I’m already dating the most gorgeous woman they could ever find.”

“You are wonderful, do you know that?” Your head leaned against his shoulder when you felt Bucky smile into the crook of your neck. “And I guess I could deal with a little more PDA - warm the team up to it slowly.”

“Sounds like a great plan.” And with that Bucky turned your chair and pulled you up and towards the bed. “Until then,” he patted his lap once he sat down, “I demand a kiss for every time I had to vouch for us.”

You smirked before straddling him. “Oh, I’ll gladly pay up, then.”

-❁-

You knew Bucky was touchy, but now that he had permission to do so outside your rooms, it lit a whole new fire within you. You couldn’t reach the cupboard? He would press up against you with a hand on your hip and get whatever item you needed. You walked through a door? You bet he would hold that thing open until you were all the way through. 

But those were just the, in his way, subtle approaches for when everyone was around. When the two of you happened to catch a quiet moment, he wouldn’t hesitate to hug and kiss you in every common area of the compound. 

You didn’t mind it too much - Bucky was a great lover all around. But you were still a little nervous as to what the team’s reaction would be. You had already gotten glimpses of it. A raised brow from Natasha, who really was just surprised it had gone past her for so long. A double take from Pietro when Bucky brushed an eyelash from your face. And a knowing smile from Wanda, who to be honest, had probably known all along - your thoughts weren’t exactly subtle... or PG.

Though you had yet to see Sam or Tony react to the increase in affection Bucky gave you. It wasn’t unusual that he asked you to train or make a joke - you were friends in everyone’s eyes. But it would become obvious if he kept up the thing he was doing right now. 

Bucky had just swiped some chocolate from your face in the kitchen, and when Clint had left the room, Bucky’s hand just lingered on your face. You were staring at him. And every time those eyes gazed into yours, it was hard to remember that there was a world around you. 

“I like this,” Bucky smirked when his thumb grazed over your cheek. His mouth followed shortly and soon he was stealing pecks from your soft lips.

“It is very nice,” you admitted flustered from the kisses, your hands now grabbing at his shirt. 

“See, it’s not so bad.”

You just hummed in response when Bucky patted your ass affectionately.

“Ahhh! What did I just see?” Sam’s eyes were wide, his head immediately snapping to Tony. You just sighed as you leaned against Bucky’s chest. It had to happen sooner or later...

“Holy smokes, Barnes. Had we known you got Miss Unattainable, we would have shut up a long time ago.” Tony whistled in acknowledgment before he approached the fridge and retrieved a water bottle.

Bucky just looked at you with a lazy smile, his hands rubbing up and down your back. It was nice not to hide anymore.

“What can I say?” He was looking into your eyes when he spoke. “She likes to keep me to herself.” And when you responded with a smile, he leaned in and kissed you shamelessly.

“Geez, get a room,” you heard Sam mumble gruffly. 

But all you could do was giggle as Bucky hid his smile in the crook of your neck, his scruff tickling your skin and the weight of the secret falling from your shoulders.

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