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thatfatbitxch · 3 months ago

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The muggle wife part 2

Pairing: Severus Snape x reader

Summary: Snapes muggle wife comes to Hogwarts with him again.

Prequel Part one

Masterlist

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the cozy sitting room as you curled up on Severus’s worn yet surprisingly comfortable couch, stretching out after a long shift. Your legs ached, your shoulders were sore, but the warmth of the tea in your hands made it all feel worth it.

Severus sat in his usual armchair across from you, a book open in his lap, though he wasn’t actually reading it—just pretending to while subtly watching you.

“You’re staring,” you murmured, taking a slow sip of tea.

His dark eyes flicked back down to his book. “No, I am not.”

You smirked. “Yes, you are.”

He let out a sigh through his nose but didn’t argue. You knew him too well.

Setting your tea down on the table between you, you stretched, feeling the fatigue of the day settle into your muscles. “I was thinking… I should go back to Hogwarts this week.”

Severus didn’t even look up. “No.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I said no,” he repeated, flipping a page in his book.

Your lips parted, caught between shock and amusement. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission.”

“You do not,” he admitted. “But I am still saying no.”

You sat up, crossing your arms. “And why, exactly, do you think you have a say in this?”

Severus finally glanced up, his expression unreadable. “Because the last time you stepped foot in my classroom, you caused nothing but disruption.”

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest in mock offense. “I was adorable and charming, thank you very much.”

“You distracted my students.”

“They liked me.”

“They worshiped you.”

“Well, I am rather wonderful.”

Severus exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this conversation physically pained him. “Y/N…”

You bit back a grin, already sensing victory. “I told them I’d come back.”

“That was a mistake.”

“I don’t want to be a liar.”

“They will live.”

You pouted, leaning forward slightly. “Come on, Severus. You liked when I went with you.”

He scoffed. “Did I?”

You smirked, shifting to your knees and crawling across the couch toward him. “Yes,” you said sweetly, settling at the edge of his chair. “Because you have the world’s biggest soft spot for me, and we both know it.”

Severus closed his book with an exaggerated slowness, setting it aside before looking at you fully.

“You are intolerable,” he muttered.

“And yet, here you are, putting up with me.” You tilted your head, studying the faintest trace of affection in his otherwise sharp features. “Because deep, deep, deep down, you actually like me being around.”

His gaze flickered to your lips, just for a moment.

You caught it.

With a small, knowing smile, you slid your hands onto the arms of his chair, leaning in ever so slightly. “Let me go,” you whispered.

Severus stared at you, his jaw tightening as if fighting some internal war.

And then—just like you knew he would—he exhaled in defeat. “You are insufferable.”

You grinned. “And?”

He rolled his eyes. “And you always get your way.”

Before he could say anything else, you pressed a quick, sweet kiss to his lips. His hand instinctively found your waist, fingers curling just slightly against your hip before you pulled back.

You beamed at him, triumphant.

Severus sighed. “I already regret this.”

“No, you don’t.”

“…No. I do not.”

You kissed him again—slow, lingering this time—before hopping up from his chair, practically glowing with satisfaction.

“We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” you declared, stretching your arms above your head.

Severus leaned back in his chair, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“I make no promises,” he murmured.

And for once, you had nothing clever to say.

⸻

The Hogwarts Express rattled along the tracks, the familiar scenery blurring by as the train headed toward the castle. You were already daydreaming about your return to the ancient halls, the familiar sights and sounds that always brought a sense of peace.

When the train finally came to a halt, you practically jumped out of your seat.

“Careful now,” Severus muttered, watching you with a bemused glint in his eye as you grabbed your bag. “No need to rush.”

You shot him a look, but it was softened by a smile. “I’m just excited.”

Severus arched an eyebrow. “Excited to disrupt my classes again?”

“Oh, please,” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his as the two of you exited the train and headed toward the castle. “I promise I won’t be a distraction this time.”

“Not a chance,” he muttered under his breath.

You caught the tail end of it, but before you could say anything else, Severus was leading you into the castle, guiding you down the familiar hallways until you reached his chambers.

“I’ll leave you here,” Severus said, opening the door. “You can stay here while I attend to my duties. I do not want you in my classes today.”

You cocked your head, grinning. “You’re really worried I’ll be too distracting?”

“I am not worried,” Severus said curtly, though his eyes held a glint of something. “I simply don’t trust you not to cause chaos.”

“Wooow, Severus,” you said dramatically, stepping into the room. “I’m offended.”

He simply stared at you with that all-knowing gaze, one eyebrow raised. “Try not to cause anything. I love you.”

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, you collapsed onto the couch with a sigh. It was still early afternoon, and you had the entire place to yourself, but—honestly—you were already bored.

“Too much free time,” you muttered, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling.

It was quiet. Too quiet. You needed something to do.

After a few minutes of silence, your stomach let out a soft growl.

Snack time.

You pushed yourself up from the couch, grabbing your bag and heading toward the door. “Just a quick snack,” you promised yourself. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

The hallways were mostly empty as you made your way towards what you assumed would be the kitchen but you honestly had no idea where you were going. The school felt peaceful, calm—a far cry from the chaos of students when they were running between classes.

But as you rounded a corner, you froze.

There, standing in the hallway, was none other than the students you had spoke with last time you were here. You had just seen them a few days ago in Severus’s class, and they greeted you warmly as you approached.

“Oh, hey!” Harry said, his eyes lighting up when he recognized you. “You’re Snape’s wife, right?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yep, that’s me. I told you guys I’d come back and say hello.”

“I’m so glad you did!” Hermione said, giving you an enthusiastic wave. “We were hoping we’d see you again.”

Seamus grinned. “It was fun having you there. Don’t tell Snape we said this, but he’s a bit of a hard ass in class.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.”

“You should totally hang out with us,” Ron said, his grin as wide as ever. “We’ve got some time between classes. We can show you around the castle if you want.”

Your stomach growled again, but you figured a quick detour wouldn’t hurt.

“Alright, I’ll join you for a bit,” you said with a shrug. “But only for a little while, then I’ll get back to Severus’s room.”

“Oh, he won’t mind,” Hermione said with a knowing smile. “I think he’s used to your little surprises by now.”

The four of them led you through the castle, and you marveled at all the hidden places they showed you. Ron and Seamus were the most energetic, rushing ahead to reveal secret passageways, while Hermione offered detailed explanations about the history of certain rooms and objects. Harry stuck by your side, engaging in light conversation.

“First stop, the Trophy Room!” Ron said dramatically. “It’s not the most exciting, but there’s always something weird in here.”

As you wandered through the castle, Seamus pointed out a painting of a wizard with a giant pumpkin. “We’re not sure if it’s enchanted, but some say it moves when no one’s looking.”

“Really?” you asked, amused.

“Yeah, but try catching it and you might end up hexed,” Hermione added, smiling.

After the Trophy Room, Harry led you to the Room of Requirement. “This place is one of the coolest. It only shows up when you need it.”

“No way,” you said, impressed. “That’s incredible!”

“It’s a bit of a mystery, but it’s always useful when we need something,” Harry explained.

The group made their way to the library, where Hermione couldn’t contain her excitement. “This is my favorite place in Hogwarts! There are books on every subject.”

Seamus chimed in, “Some books even move when you’re not looking!”

You laughed, feeling a growing connection to these students who clearly loved Hogwarts with all their hearts.

Eventually, they led you back toward the dungeons, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks for the tour, guys. I had no idea Hogwarts had so many hidden gems.”

“No problem!” Harry grinned. “We’re glad you came back to visit.”

Before you could respond, the sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Uh-oh.

You barely had time to turn before Severus appeared at the end of the hallway, his black robes billowing as he strode toward you with an expression that screamed unimpressed husband mode activated.

“Mrs. Snape.”

Your stomach did a tiny flip—not out of fear, but because, despite his irritation, there was something undeniably attractive about him in full professor mode.

The Gryffindors, on the other hand, immediately stiffened.

“Oh… hey, love,” you said sweetly, tilting your head like you weren’t caught red-handed.

Snape’s gaze flicked from you to the four students. “You were meant to be in class five minutes ago.”

Hermione gasped, checking the time. “Oh no, we completely lost track!”

Ron groaned. “Brilliant. Now we’re doomed.”

“Indeed,” Snape drawled. “Ten points from Gryffindor—each.”

“WHAT?!” Seamus yelped. “But we were just—”

Snape’s dark eyes silenced him instantly

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Professor. We got a little carried away showing Y/N around.”

At that, Snape’s already formidable scowl deepened. His gaze snapped back to you. “And you. I told you to stay in my quarters.”

You offered a sheepish smile. “I got bored.”

His jaw clenched. “Bored.”

“And hungry,” you added, as if that made it better.

A muscle in his cheek twitched. “So rather than wait like a rational adult, you decided to wander the castle—causing disruptions, I see.”

You bit back a laugh at how dramatic he sounded. “I wasn’t causing disruptions,” you defended, “I was making friends.”

Snape’s lips pressed into a thin line.

You took a step closer, lowering your voice just enough that the students probably couldn’t hear. “Come on, Severus, don’t be mad.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable. He sighed, clearly waging an internal war.

Seizing the moment, you reached up and pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to his lips.

Instant regret for the students.

Ron made a disgusted noise deep in his throat. Seamus physically recoiled. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose like he was in pain, while Hermione let out a small, horrified squeak.

“OH, COME ON!” Seamus groaned. “Did we have to witness that?!”

“We knew they were married,” Ron muttered, “but seeing it is a whole other thing.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m going to need to bleach my brain.”

Snape exhaled sharply, clearly exasperated but no longer angry. His fingers ghosted over your wrist for just a second before he turned sharply on his heel. “Come along. Now.”

You smirked at the still-stunned students. “Lovely seeing you all. Enjoy class!”

They didn’t respond. They were too busy trying to recover.

⸻

The walk back to Severus’s quarters was silent. Well, mostly silent. You, of course, were still feeling playful despite his grumpy mood.

“You know, you really should be thanking me.”

Severus didn’t even glance at you. “For what, exactly?”

You linked your arm through his, leaning into him slightly. “For ensuring that your students respect your authority. If I hadn’t kissed you, they would’ve kept thinking you’re just some poor, helpless husband, bullied into submission by his charming wife.”

He exhaled through his nose—the closest thing to a laugh you’d get from him while he was still pretending to be mad.

“You are an insufferable woman,” he muttered.

“And you are a dramatic man,” you countered, stopping just outside his door. “Come on, Severus, I was just hungry. You can’t honestly expect me to sit around doing nothing all day.”

“I expected you to follow my instructions,” he corrected, unlocking the door. “A foolish expectation on my part.”

You grinned. “Very foolish.”

The door clicked shut behind you both. The room was dimly lit, the warm glow from the fireplace making the space feel even cozier. You sighed in relief, flopping down onto the sofa.

“So,” you began, “now that you’ve successfully dragged me back, what’s for dinner?”

Severus raised a brow. “Pardon?”

You crossed your arms. “You stormed through half the castle to retrieve me, all while knowing I was starving. Surely, you had a plan for feeding your poor, suffering wife?”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, likely questioning every life decision that had led him to this moment. Then, with a resigned sigh, he flicked his wand.

A moment later, a plate of warm stew and fresh bread appeared on the small table in front of you.

Your eyes lit up. “Oh, Severus, you do love me!”

He rolled his eyes, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. “Eat before I change my mind and vanish it.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You pulled the plate into your lap and took a bite, practically melting at the taste. “Merlin, this is good.”

Severus sat beside you, watching with an unreadable expression. “One might think you hadn’t eaten in days.”

“One might be right,” you mumbled through another mouthful.

Severus shook his head but said nothing. Instead, he leaned back against the couch, resting his arm along the back, his fingers barely grazing your shoulder.

You looked up at him between bites. “So, are you still mad at me?”

He exhaled slowly. “I was never truly mad, merely… irritated.”

You smirked. “Mmm. And how long does irritation usually last?”

His dark eyes flickered with something fond, something familiar. He tilted his head slightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your cheek.

“Less time than it used to.”

Your heart warmed at that. Setting your plate down, you shifted closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder.

““Good,” you murmured, “because I fully intend on distracting you again.”

Severus sighed in that long-suffering way of his but didn’t move away. Instead, his fingers traced lazy patterns along your arm, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary.

You tilted your head up, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against the corner of his mouth. He stilled for only a second before turning fully toward you, his dark gaze heavy.

“You,” he murmured, voice lower now, “are truly impossible.”

You smirked. “And yet, here you are—completely unable to resist me.”

His lips crashed against yours, his hand curling around the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. The firelight flickered, casting shifting shadows across the room, the warmth of it nothing compared to the heat pooling between you both.

You barely noticed when he flicked his wand again, vanishing the forgotten plate of food from the table.

Dinner could wait.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #severus snape #severus snape x reader #x reader #harry potter oneshot #professor snape #snape x reader one shot

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ragde890 · 4 months ago

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Chainsaw Man #194 analysis

So... Chainsaw Man 194.

I can't help but think about Power with the first scene. Two chapters ago, Denji mentioned her. And now we've got a first page very reminiscent of the composition of chapter 71 —almost mirroring it.

It doesn't end there, however. I find the next page is also reliving —in this cycle Denji seems to be trapped in— the "Bat Devil Arc" (chapters 4-12).

Back then, Denji was in a very similar state to his current one. He found his life empty and meaningless and his trauma, simple thinking, lack of socialization and toxic relationship with society, sex, gender and himself led him to gaslight himself into believing that what he really needed was sex. During his whole "rescue Nyako" thing, for example, despite the fact that he obviously felt empathy towards Power and wanted to help her because he could relate to her feelings (having lost Pochita himself), he still gaslit himself into believing he was "only doing it for boobs". In fact, Denji thinking about himself as some kind of unfeeling monster or animal (or dog, as he was called by the Yakuza and Makima alike), trying to interpret anything in terms of "biological needs" is a self-destroying attitude that has persisted until now.

The only difference with that and his current way of thinking is that now he's at the very least self-conscious (although he is still unwilling to accept the times he's been a victim of SA and blames himself from it/is trying to convince himself he has/should have like it.), and the trauma is much bigger.

Then, the immediate page after this opening displays something that was already shown in the "Bat Devil Arc".

Denji, despite being hypersexual, stuck in a loop of death and violence, and in the case of these last chapters, pretending he can live "like a Devil", is not at his core a bad person. He cares about consent, he values the people around him, he doesn't wish harm.

Fujimoto feels the need to reiterate this because we've seemed Denji do fucked up shit these last chapters (eating the tree people, "enjoying" Yoru's destruction and killing spree) and we're probably gonna see even more.

In the next pages, we see that he's well-aware of how fucked up the situation is, but his casual demeanour shows that he's not really facing how *serious* the situation really is: like he doesn't want to truly face reality.

Again, we turn to the omnipresence of Fire . First in the news, that show the destruction caused by both Yoru and the Fire Devil, and then, a bit subtler, with Denji cooking Gyozas —with the paneling emphasising the fire on the stove.

The next page yet again reinforces Denji's new (old, in fact, but I'm referring to its post chapter 183 version) mindset of living like an animal/devil: caring only about "sensory pleasures" like eating, sleeping or sex.

It also makes the yuxtaposition of "everyday life" and destruction/apocalypse that's been on for the last arc even more obvious.

After that, we get to the next scene.

Some people might have not noticed, but this "One month from now" dialogue is implying a timeskip. "Two weeks" in universe ago, Barem said "Half a year", so... When was the 5 month timeskip? After Denji was captured by PS? During this chapter, after the first scene (in which case, Asa was 5 months in the backseat?)? For now, it's a mystery.

Right after that, we've got what looks like a callback to chapter 131, with Fami using what seems like the same kind of excuse Nayuta used back then. If we believe Fami is being honest here, then she was sincere as well in that interaction with Nayuta, and we'd finally have some characterization for her. It does indeed look like she's given up: she doesn't believe she can defeat the Death Devil anymore, so she's trying to enjoy what little life she has left (maybe even in *imitation* to Nayuta).

This next interaction with Yoshida is also interesting. He looks legitimately serious here. His "I'm no fun, huh?" is not one of his usual quips: he's genuinely agreeing to Fami's comment, and accepting as his reality.

Yoshida's painfully accepting that he's never had and will never have the fun/joyful live of a normal highschooler. Death will soon come and everything he'll have experienced are his practised smiles, fake connections and isolation. He's always been an outsider, unable to form connections with his peers, having shaped himself to be a Devil Hunter first and a human second (if at all). This is the alienating world he's chosen, that has forced him to cut all sensorial and social aspects of live. Until he is, as Fami described, no fun at all.

And he suffers all of this completely alone because the mask he's created for himself doesn't allow others to see the pain. He's shaped himself as a "necessary evil", a tool to serve PS, his whole existance defined by his job. He's one of the only main characters that take the treath of the Death Devil completely seriously. He wants the world to be saved, at the expense of his own life, because he wants to do the right thing (that's when he does "evil" things in order to "save the world", he still feels bad about it, like when he had to imprison Denji). But in order to do that, he has to sacrifice himself and his individuality. He believes live is about sacrifices, that wanting more than the choices you're given is selfish, that normalcy is about fitting in the box that's been constructed for you. A completely selfless, "lawful" ideology that goes completely against Denji's.

Yoshida craves human connection, but he can't get it at all, so he buries this need in books, tv and parasocial relations. Even when he tried having an actual connection with Denji, it didn't work at all. He's so painfully lonely and feels that's how it'll be forever. If anything, he acts as a perfect foil for Denji: both craving for actual human connections, and both adopting completely opposite but equally toxic mindsets to cope with the fact they can't get them. Both being forced into being used as tools, objects, but never people.

Then we get to the last scene. After a page of Yoru and Devil "hanging out" as devils, Asa finally takes control of her body again.

It's quite sad that even here, Denji still can't tell the difference of when it's Asa and when it's Yoru. That he still sees them as one big entity is very fucked up.

About Asa's situation right now, I don't know what'll happen. Her situation is as bad and traumatic as Denji's right now. Let's not forget that she's also been a victim of Yoru's SA (it was her body, after all), and she feels responsible for it. Not only that, but she's been forced to see how Denji completely disregards her to happily hang out with her abuser.

Furthermore, her entire motivation has "just" (depending on the precise location of the timeskip) been torn apart. All the stuff about "beating chainsaw man to save Denji" that Fami told her was pure lies, with Yoshida and Yumiko admitting that they want the War Devil to turn CSM into a weapon. She had convinced herself that saving Denji was her responsibility, her purpose, and now she's found out that she's just been used, and the situation just keeps worsening. What does she have left now?

For the record, I don't think she'll attack Denji next chapter. But it'll be as easy as talking it out either. This next arc will most surely be a tough one, as we're getting progressively closer to Part 2's climax.

#csm 194 #csm #chainsaw man #chainsaw man part 2 #chainsaw man analysis #chainsaw man manga #csm spoilers #csm part 2

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drdarine · 5 months ago

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The Journey of Return

After fifteen months of forced displacement, we returned carrying hope, but what we found was harsher than we had imagined. Our homes were no longer homes. They had become silent ruins telling a story of loss. There were no longer walls to protect us nor windows overlooking the dreams we had grown up with. Every corner here whispered the pain of memories, the sound of laughter buried under the rubble, and the warmth of family that had become just a memory.

We walked 11 miles, nearly 18 kilometers, carrying what was left of our lives on our shoulders, treading over harsh ground that seemed to reproach us for our absence. The road was not just a distance. It was a lesson in patience and resilience. Our bodies were exhausted, but our souls burned with longing.

Today, we stand on this land, trying to gather what remains, to start again despite the pain. But the truth is, we can't do it alone. We need a helping hand, support to rebuild our lives as they once were, or even better. This land has suffered just as we have, yet it still holds the potential for life. And so do we… we just need someone to believe in us, to help us rise again.

=====================

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #15 )✅️

Also supported by @nabulsi Here. Here

@a-shade-of-blue

@catnapdreams @oediex @bloodbornebutch @soft-sunbird @disasterhimbo @barricadebops @qzcyborg @mrfeeshboyo @meglyfer

#free palestine #boost #life #gaza strip #signal boost #viral video #photooftheday #photoshoot #my photos #photography #photographers on tumblr #love and deepspace #love #gaza #free gaza

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rekino2114 · 11 months ago

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Gifting the chainsaw man girls a plushie of themselves

A/n: I'm still on vacation and wanted to do a smaller post while i'm free so i saw this prompt around and thought it was adorable, I'll probably do it with more fandoms let me know if you wanna see it

Makima

Thinks it's amazing and will treasure it forever, she specific keeps it on a shelf in her office (most of her subordinates are very confused to see it just sitting there around the paperwork)

She will 100% give you a plushie of yourself to repay you

Might ask you for a pochita plushie to replace the real one since she doesn't want it anymore.

"Oh, It's adorable darling you're so talented, how about I make you one of yourself to match?"

Power

She is confused at first and asks what power (lol) you used to make a mini her but quickly grows to love it.

It's soft and cuddly just like meowy whenever you're not near her you can bet she'll be cuddling those two things to fall asleep.

Definitely brags about it to denji and aki. Where are their small and fluffy versions of them uh?

"*gasp* is that an idol of the great power? Very well I will accept this. T-thank you"

Himeno

Thinks it's the cutest thing ever and immediately hugs you and peppers you In kisses as thanks

Will always keep it on her shoulder or in view in general hoping that someone asks her about it so she can start ranting about how wonderful her partner is

You have found her multiple times passed out drunk hugging the plushie and mumbling about how much she loves you

"Oh my God! Is that me? Thanks so much it's soooo cute, well not as cute as the original of course~"

Kobeni higashiyama

An incredibly blushy mess whenever you give her the plushie but thinks it's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for her.

It kinda becomes a comforter for her. Whenever she's more nervous or sad than usual, she hugs the plushie and thinks of you, and it makes her feel at least a bit better

She feels kinda bad about not giving you anything back so she'll probably save the small amount of money she has to buy you a plushie you like.

"O-oh, that's really cute. w-wait, is that m-me? I love it a lot. Thank you so so much"

Quanxi (and her harem)

You immediately got tackled in a hug by 4 of your girlfriends when you showed them plushies of every one of them, quanxi just looked at hers for a while before smiling and joining the group hug

Might genuinely stab someone if they say anything remotely negative about the plushie

She works hard with her girlfriends to make you a plushie of yourself since they thought it wasn't fair that you were the only one in the relationship without one.

"Eh, it really does look like me, you did an amazing job on the girls too, don't worry I'll keep it close at all times"

Asa mitaka

Genuinely can't fathom that you would put effort into making something so cute of her out of everyone and the fact that you gifted her that makes her fall in love with you even more

Always keeps it with her mostly in her bag at school, similarly to kobeni it helps calm her down whenever she's having a bad day, it's a reminder that there is someone willing to love her this much

Yoru once tried to draw the scars on it to make it a plushie of her (just to mess with asa) but thankfully she took control in time

"Wait, seriously? That's....for me? Wow, i- I don't know what to say. Just thank you so much"

Yoru

Acts like she doesn't care that much but actually thinks it's really cute, asa often wakes up finding herself hugging it, courtesy of yoru not being able to sleep without it and taking over during the night.

Definitely brags to asa about it (not realizing it's technically a plushie of both of them)

Might ask you to add some weapons to the plushie to make it more interesting

"Hm? What's that? a plushie? I guess it does kinda resemble me, thanks it is kinda nice"

Fami

She might seem as indifferent as usual but genuinely loves the gesture and thinks it's adorable

She brings it with her whenever she eats (which is most of the time) she even puts a little bib on it, it's really cute to watch

Feels really bad when she gets it dirty (mostly when she's eating) so she'll try cleaning it even if she has no idea how

"I see, so it's a plushie of me. How cute. Thank you, you did a great job"

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sitepathos · 6 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/sitepathos/771441759147507712/imagine-the-angst-if-bruce-does-end-up-finding-a?source=share

In that post you said jason would have raised reader if he wasnt so blind now my question would he have done that actually or would he just be a good brother also what if reader ended up in the same situation as in the start of the series but jason saved reader

He’d basically assume Dick’s title as #1 Big Brother with you, always texting you, asking how your day was, and even making it a point to stop by your work, clad in his Red Hood gear (which actually led to an increase in business when rumors began circulating that Red Hood likes retro games).

He’s pissed beyond words when he realizes that you’ve been neglected ever since day one of moving into Gotham, offering to rip Bruce and the others several new ones on your behalf, but you convince him it’s not worth it and him and Alfred are more than enough for you. He’s happy to hear that you hold him in such high regard (something that means a lot to him since majority of Gotham worship at the Alter of the Bat), but he does go hard on them during sparing sessions to get back at them.

He loves spending time with you, the two of you staying in one of his various safe houses, teaching the other about your interests; you show him your game and go off on tangents on your favorite games and he nerds out about Jane Austin and shows you how to handle firearms, gifting you a custom-made pistol to reward you for completing his firearm safety test.

Jason will also help you with school and you were shocked to find out that despite him being built like a brick shithouse, he loved school after being adopted by Bruce and had As and Bs. He’ll help you study for your tests and when you pass them, he’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate.

And if this scenario took place when Damian first moved in, he would’ve defended you from his sword. The moment he saw the little brat reach for his sword, he instantly knew what was about to happen and dashed out in front of you, shielding you with his body and shoving Damian away. Bruce and Dick chastise him for shoving Damian, but he glares at them, his eyes Lazarus Green, and carries you out of the room, wanting to put as much distance between you and the demon spawn.

And the night you were kidnapped by the three thugs? You gave them Jason’s number when the leader demanded someone to call and arrange for a ransom. When he found out he was speaking to your kidnapper, that night with Joker flashes before his eyes and all the fear, pain, and despair he felt that night came flooding him all at once. He keeps them on the line as he traces the call and races to the cabin. Once he arrives, he uses his helmet to see through the cabin’s walls and due to the poor condition of the wood it’s made of, he manages to put a bullet in each of their heads through the walls. He rushes into the cabin and casts his helmet aside, wanting to see if you’re hurt with his own eyes and when your eyes met his, you notice they’re the greenest they’ve ever been.

He takes you to the safe house you’d come to know and love, telling you that you wouldn’t be going back to the manor since Bruce isn’t able to pull his head out of his ass and give you the care you need. Alfred is sad to see you leave, but is glad Jason will be the one to take care of you, so he helps pack all your stuff and often sends food in the mail. After you move in, Jason tears into Bruce, saying he’s a failure of a father and that he never should’ve been allowed to reproduce.

The night you graduate, you can hear him cheering you on as you receive your diploma, even with the rest of the audience giving you a round of curtesy applause. When you meet up with him and Alfred, he gives you a giant bear hug, swinging you around and saying he’s so proud of you.

When you tell him you want to move back to your old house in Goodsprings, he’s sad, of course, but he understands that desire to go back to more familiar surroundings. He goes with you to Nevada to make sure you get there safely and helps clean it up and make it livable, even going as far as to buy you all new furniture and appliances (using Bruce’s credit card, of course). You turn your old room into a guest room that’s always ready for him and he makes it a point to stay over once a month.

When your game finally releases, you give him the first copy and even dedicate it to him, bringing a tear to his eye. While he’s not the biggest gamer out there, he becomes your biggest fan and praises your work online.

And should you ever meet a man that you wish to date, he ensures that before your dates leaves with you, the last thing he sees is Jason cleaning his extensive collection of guns.

#asks #from gold to mold

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months ago

Text

it's the next best thing - part two

part one || part three

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson || ~22k, complete || phone sex || accidental love confessions || there was only one bed || getting together || mutual pining || porn with plot || smut || wet & messy || friends with benefits || oral sex || rimming

This is part two of three of my gift for @eyesofshinigami for @steddieexchange!

Eddie gasps for breath, collapsed on the linoleum of the kitchen, hand still stuck in his pants and phone dangling off the line cord tickling his face as his ragged breathing makes it sway back and forth.

“What the fuck was that?” he says to the quiet of his trailer.

He knows what that was, still has the jizz cooling in his underwear and cock softening in his hand to prove it. He’d just never imagined that his not-so-innocent question would ever lead him to this. Even now, he’s not sure how it’d happened, doesn’t know what had caused Steve to use that tone of voice and hiss sinful things down the line.

He’d just been along for the ride, and now he’s here, shaking with aftershocks and chilled on the kitchen floor. Steve’s little, “same time tomorrow,” ringing through his head.

He gets up to shuffle into his bedroom, too wrung out to do more than wipe himself down with a dirty t-shirt and collapse into bed. They’ve talked five nights in a row by now, but Eddie’s always the one that calls, Steve on the other side of the line sounding begrudgingly entertained, but this? Steve had practically asked Eddie to call, right after talking him through one of the hottest orgasms of his life.

Does he want to do it again?

Sleep is a long time coming that night, leaving Eddie cranky and sulking into his mug of coffee as Wayne shuffles into the trailer after his graveyard shift.

“You’re up early,” Wayne says, collapsing onto the empty chair at the dining room table to remove his shoes with his usual bitching and grunting.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Eddie mumbles grumpily even as he gets up to pour Wayne his own mug.

Wayne takes a sip, humming in satisfaction after he swallows. Only once he’s put his mug down on the table does he pin Eddie with his piercing gaze. “D’ you want to talk ‘bout whatever’s goin’ on?” he asks, not even blinking as he waits for Eddie to answer.

Eddie’s never kept a secret from Wayne, even government-enforced NDA’s couldn’t shut him up. He’s not about to start now. “I had phone sex with Steve Harrington,” he blurts. He feels crazy, eyes wide and manic as he waits for Wayne to spout his wisdom and do what he always does when Eddie has a problem: fix it.

Instead, Wayne picks up his mug and takes another long sip, leaving Eddie to wait on tenterhooks as he savors his shitty cup of Folgers like the pope himself had made it. “Steve’s a good kid.”

Eddie stares, unblinking, long enough that his eyes start to dry out. “That’s it?” he demands, smacking his hand down on the table for emphasis, rattling both of their mugs, Eddie’s coffee sloshing off the edge.

“What d’ya want me to say?” Wayne replies, picking up his coffee, probably to save it from any more of Eddie’s antics. “You like this boy? Talk to him.”

He shouldn’t have expected anything else, really. Wayne’s been team Steve Harrington since he’d found out he’d single-handedly carried him out of a hellscape and put pressure on his wounds until Nancy had hauled ass all the way into the hospital bay.

Keep a guy’s guts inside his body one time, and apparently that’s all it takes to win the parental figure over.

“Wayne,” Eddie whines.

“It’d be one thing if he wasn’t your sort,” Wayne continues, standing up, coffee still in hand as he makes his way toward the bathroom. “But phone sex, Ed? Sounds pretty gay.”

Eddie splutters, mouth hanging open and face heating up as Wayne closes the bathroom door, the sound of the shower starting a moment later.

He should’ve never talked to Wayne.

Still, despite his ratcheting anxiety and sleep deprivation, once eight p.m. rolls around, Eddie calls.

“Thank you for calling Family Video,” Steve answers, but he must know it’s Eddie because his voice hits a lower register than usual. It’s almost…suggestive. “How can I help you?”

“Um!” Eddie squeaks out, face already aflame. “You said tomorrow, so…?”

Steve huffs but doesn’t answer, silence deafening across the line. Eddie stews, socked feet tapping silently against the floor as he waits. “And?” Steve finally asks.

Eddie mentally scrambles, trying to force a coherent thought into his brain. “And?” he asks, voice reedy. “And I—what? Oh!”

He clears his throat, and Steve huffs again. This time it sounds more like a laugh than like he’s exasperated with Eddie. “What are you wearing?” Eddie asks, holding his breath, hoping against hope that it was the right answer.

“Jeans, green sweater, vest, sneakers,” Steve lists out just like he usually does. Eddie lets his breath out, settling into his skin as they continue to wear in the grooves of their usual conversation. But then Steve’s voice drops low and he finishes with a pointed, “no underwear,” and Eddie’s left floating again.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, clutching the phone tightly as he sinks down to the floor, dick already hardening, only getting worse as Steve laughs. He slides his hand into his pants and grips himself. “At work?”

“No one’s here, baby,” Steve replies, still using that stupid fucking sultry tone that makes warmth pool in Eddie’s gut. “No one will know that just the thought of my dick has you touching yourself.”

“I’m—” I’m not, he wants to say. But he is, grip vice-like around his shaft as he listens to Steve laugh at him.

“You think I don’t know what it sounds like when you push your hand into your pants, Munson?” He asks, sharp, and mean, and so fucking hot that Eddie’s going to combust right here and now. “Your stupid belt’s loud, baby.”

Eddie can’t help the way he whines, hand stroking quickly, just once, like that’ll keep Steve from knowing what he’s doing. But his belt clinks, cuffs tinkling tellingly together, and Steve laughs again. Fuck, Steve’s right: his belt is loud.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, and he sounds soothing now, like Eddie’s a feral cat he’s trying to coax out from behind a dumpster. Eddie feels like one, like he’s one second away from snapping and scratching out someone’s throat. God, this is all such a bad idea. “You can touch yourself, Eddie.”

Eddie in Steve’s voice is worse than baby. It’s soft, sibilant, intimate. Eddie’s hand moves on his shaft, grip light as he closes his eyes and pictures Steve at the front counter of Family Video, big hand wrapped around the phone.

“What about you?” he asks, voice breathy as he continues to move his hand.

“I’m at work.” Steve sounds admonishing, like he thinks Eddie should’ve known better than to even ask. “You want me to get fired? Rather call Keith every night, have him tell you exactly how to fuck yourself?”

Eddie shudders again, grip tightening even as disgust fills him. “No,” Eddie says, and even to himself he sounds bratty. Petulant. Whiny.

“Besides, playing with you is more fun,” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret just between them.

Eddie’s grip tightens, hips jerking as he tries to get more leverage in the confines of his jeans, belt twanging with every minute shift.

“So fucking loud,” Steve says again.

Shame hits him, pools in his gut. It’s like getting picked last in gym before he just stopped showing up, like being pushed into lockers before he hit his growth spurt and made himself the loudest predator in the school, like not graduating for the first time.

“Sorry,” he gasps, cheeks hot as he lets go of his cock, desperate to get the belt off to stop the stupid fucking noise its making and get back to it. “I can take it off, let me just–”

“Stop,” Steve orders, and Eddie freezes, the flap of his belt out of the loops, metal clasp clutched between both his hands. “Leave it on.”

Eddie drops the clasp, it clasps noisily against itself, loud in the quiet of the trailer. He closes his eyes, still frozen, afraid to make another move, lest the sound of his fumbling travel down the line.

“But, you said…” he starts before trailing off, unable to find the words.

“It’s loud,” Steve reaffirms, sending that same spike of shame in his gut. “But I want to hear you.”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and his hand moves on instinct, wriggling back into his pants before going rigid when that same metallic clack twangs as his belt shifts.

“That’s it,” Steve encourages, and his shame turns sharp and hot in his stomach, urging Eddie’s hand further into his pants until he’s got a hold of his cock again. “Let me hear you.”

Eddie moans, eyes closed, head tipped back against the cupboard as he listens to Steve breathe over the line. He’s moving his hand slowly, but his belt still rattles with every upward stroke.

“That’s it,” Steve says again, something dangerously close to awe in his voice. “Little faster now.”

Eddie does, following Steve’s directions without thought as he strokes himself faster, that stupid fucking metallic clanking speeding up right along with him. He squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, focusing on the feeling on his cock as he fucks his hand, trying to drown out his own sound with Steve’s heavy breathing.

“Faster,” Steve demands, and Eddie does it, the sound of his jingling belt growing quicker right along with him. “Fuck, listen to that.”

Eddie whines, speeding up again without Steve’s command, hips rising up off the floor with little aborted thrusts, his hand coming down to meet each thrust with a meaty thwack that does nothing to drown out the sound of his belt or the sound of his own panting.

He gets lost in it, the feel of his own length in his hand, Steve’s words urging him on, heating him up from the inside out. He’s getting close, can feel that familiar warmth pooling in his gut, so close he can almost taste it in the back of his throat.

Eddie can hear the familiar bell on Family Video’s front door jingle through the line, announcing someone’s entry. His hand freezes on his dick, breath stuck in his throat, like the customer will somehow be able to see him if he doesn’t stay still.

“Be right with you!” Steve calls, sounding cheerful and helpful, like he didn’t have Eddie on the knife’s edge of coming in his pants for the second time in just as many days. He’s quiet when he speaks again, words just for Eddie. “I want you to come for me, okay?”

“Steve,” Eddie gasps, but his hand’s already moving, stripping his cock with hard strokes. “Customer?”

He’s turned into a caveman, all one word questions and monosyllabic grunts, Steve’s words and Eddie’s own hand having done away with any higher brain function

“Fuck the customer,” Steve hisses, words so quiet Eddie can barely hear them. “Come on, baby, I want to hear it.”

Steve’s begging now, like all he wants is to listen to Eddie lose his mind, his own pleasure secondary to Eddie’s. Does he know Eddie’s collapsed on the kitchen floor, or does he think Eddie’s in bed, writhing between the sheets, as if he’d ever be able to afford his own line.

He wants to reach into Steve’s brain and scoop out his thoughts, see himself through Steve’s imaginings. Eddie wants to know everything.

And just like that, he’s close again, wishes Steve would live up to the promises he made last time and fill his mouth up with something else.

He’s almost there. He just needs, just—

“Come for me.”

Eddie shouts, loud enough to bother the neighbors as his dick spurts, tip peeking out of his jeans just enough to make a mess of his shirt, come painting white stripes against the black fabric. He strokes himself through it, keeping his grip firm until the overstimulation has him writhing, smacking his head painfully into the cupboard as he falls over, landing fully on the hard floor.

He lost the phone in the race to the finish line, so once he has the wherewithal to remember it, he reaches out blindly, eyes too hazy to be at all helpful, until he finds it and drags it back to his ear.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, voice slurring. The line’s still active, but there’s no response, so he asks again, “Steve?”

Steve doesn’t answer, but he hears the sound of a woman’s voice, unintelligible and tinny, then Steve’s own laugh, louder, but still too far away from the receiver for him to be holding the phone. Eddie catches his breath, listening to bits of an indecipherable conversation happening all the way across town, hoping desperately that Steve hasn’t forgotten about him.

He hears Steve call, “have a good night!” loud enough for Eddie to make out, and then the distinct sound of the bell ringing, announcing the customer's departure. Then, Steve’s voice directly in his ear whispering, “holy shit, Eddie. That was so fucking hot.”

Eddie laughs, breathless and buzzed on Steve Harrington’s attention. God, he wasn’t going to survive this, no matter what Wayne said. But, what a fucking way to go.

He can’t wait.

***

Steve’s whole body is buzzing, dick hard in his jeans. At fucking work. Because Eddie Munson sounds like a porn star when he comes. He wants nothing more than to hustle into the bathroom and take care of himself, but he’s alone, and besides, Robin would kill him if she found out he’d jacked off in the bathroom while on shift.

He adjusts his dick in his pants, tucking it up unobtrusively in case someone else comes in, and he tries to think of anything besides what Eddie’s face must have looked like when he made that sound.

It doesn’t work.

There’s a steady stream of customers throughout the rest of the night, and Steve helps each and every one with a dick hard enough to hammer a nail in with. When he finally gets home, he’s barely through the front door before he’s shoving his hand into his pants and getting himself off, Eddie’s sinful sounds ringing through his ears.

He needs to talk to Robin.

Sunday is one of their rare remaining shared shifts. Keith takes the morning, but the nights are busy with people returning the weekend’s rental before the work week hits them where it hurts. He holds it in his mouth for the first few hours, Robin shooting him squinty-eyed looks between each customer interaction.

He’s waiting for the rush to die down, wants enough time to talk it all through, but as the bell jingles with another customer leaving, the store blessedly empty for the first time all night, it just comes out of his mouth.

“I had sex with Eddie,” Steve blurts.

Robin whips her head toward him so fast that he hears her neck crack. Her eyes are wide and a manic smile is creeping across her face, all her shiny white teeth on display. She looks like a shark and Steve, very suddenly, feels like a raw, bloody steak dropped into the water.

“No, I didn’t,” he says, wincing when that just makes Robin’s smile widen. Is she going to eat him? “I don’t know why I said that.”

There must be something in his voice because her smile droops as all that intensity goes into her eyes instead. She stares him down like she’s trying to find all the secrets of the universe in his eyes. Because it’s Robin, Steve stares right back, wondering what she’s picking up from his face.

“Is this a bathroom floor conversation?” Robin asks, already grimacing. She’s surprisingly squeamish when she’s not high out of her gourd and already covered in piss, vomit, and Steve’s blood.

Neither of them have ever mopped the bathroom floor, and there’s no way Keith has either.

Steve drops to the carpet behind the counter, pulling his knees up to his chest. They’ve never cleaned this floor either, but at least the chances of sitting on piss are lower out here. Robin’s still grimacing, but she drops down with him. Their knees knock together as Robin scoots forward, reaching out to interlace their fingers and piling all their hands atop Steve’s own knees.

“What’s going on, babe?” Robin asks in that sweet voice she only uses when she thinks Steve’s fragile. It always kind of makes him want to cry.

Steve looks down at their hands, attention caught by Robin’s thumb rubbing soothingly against his own, fingertip getting caught with each pass against the wrinkles of his knuckle. He keeps his gaze on her hands as he thinks of what to say. It feels safer, somehow, when he can see how soft she’s being with him.

“We had phone sex?” Steve says and it comes out like a question. Robin squeezes both his hands, biting her lip to keep her chatterbox tendencies contained. “Uh, twice. And it was—it was really good, Robin.”

“Yeah?” she asks, and when he looks up at her, she’s smiling again, a small, private thing that prompts him to finally open up his mouth and say what he really means.

“I really like him, Bobby.”

She squeezes his hand and scooches impossibly closer, like she wants to merge together and they can finally become one person like the kids are always joking. He moves right along with her, one mind in this, until their legs are locked, one wrong move away from one of them sitting in the other’s lap.

Steve doesn’t mind, can never quite get as close as he wants to with Robin. He’d climb into her skin if he could, and knows without having to ask that she’d let him.

“Does he like you?” she asks, quiet enough to be a secret shared between them in the empty store.

Steve looks back down at their hands and thinks about it. Eddie’s stuttering and shy on the phone, stammering over um’s and uh’s just as much as words. Does that mean anything besides him being shy? He sounds eager, too, every time Steve answers the phone. He always has, even before Steve had flipped the script from a joke to overtly sexual. But, he sounds just the same when he talks to Robin—Steve’s seen him walk into Family Video and light up at just the sight of her.

The bell on the door jingles, and because she’s the best, Robin lets go of his hands, pats his knee once, and jumps up to greet them, letting Steve stay out of sight beneath the counter as she assists them.

Does Eddie like him? As a friend, sure, and sexually, yeah, but the way Robin’s implying?

It spins around and around in his head, never quite reaching a coherent conclusion.

When the phone rings at eight, Steve dashes to it, picking it up, and giving his usual spiel, made shy with Robin’s twinkling eyes trained on him.

“Thank you for calling Family Video,” he says, unsurprised when it comes out breathy. “How can I help you?”

“Oh, I can think of a few ways you could help me,” Eddie says, voice suggestive right from the start.

Steve grins, all his worries melting away at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “Robin’s here,” he cautions.

“Ohh!” If anything, Eddie sounds excited, like Robin being here is a good thing, no matter what it means for his virtual sex life. “Put her on, Stevie.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but dutifully holds the phone away from his ear and drolly says, “phone for you.”

Robin speeds over, tripping over the computer’s cord, Steve’s outstretched arm the only thing stopping her from braining herself against the counter.

“Family Video,” she says, even though she, too, must know who it is by now.

Steve’s standing close enough that he can hear Eddie’s cheerful call of, “Birdie!” The rest of his words are lost to Steve, but they make Robin laugh, a quick burst of a thing, like what he said had shocked her.

“At work?” she says, looking at Steve with the put-upon air of scandal. “For shame, Steven.”

He scrambles for the phone, trying to wrench it from her hand until they’re in an all-out brawl that ends with the cord tangled around their bodies, trapping them so they’re pressed together chest to chest. “Give it,” Steve pleads, finally snatching the receiver from her hand and pressing it to his ear, hissing as she grabs a hunk of his hair and yanks.

“You told her,” Steve demands down the line.

Eddie sputters, “I—you—she—“ he stumbles over each word, sputtering in a way that’s almost as fun as it was last night. “I just said I’d hoped to talk to you alone!”

“Oh,” Steve says, looking down at Robin’s beat up converse, eyes glazing over as he realizes—“I told her.”

“Steven,” Eddie says, voice so close to Robin’s own irate tone that Steve can’t help but laugh, heart full. “Why would you do that?”

He’s whining now, and Steve’s grinning about it, can’t help it. He leans toward Robin, hunching down the tiniest bit to hook his chin over her shoulder, safely ensconced in their phone cord cocoon. “It’s Robin,” Steve replies like that answers everything.

Eddie’s quiet on the other side of the line for a moment before he huffs and mutters a quiet, “fair enough.”

Steve smiles, digging his chin into her shoulder just to make her squeal and try to get away. But, they’re still tied together, so she’s bungee-corded right back into him and they both go down in a tangle of limbs and phone cord, knees rammed in places they should never go.

The phone’s been flung a few feet away, Eddie’s tinny voice coming through the speaker asking, “Steve? Did you guys die? Steeeeeevie?”

He’s in the middle of crawling toward it when the front door jingles and he freezes, abdominals working to keep him upright with one arm and one leg stalled out mid-crawl. Behind him, Robin’s also gone deadly silent and Steve knows they’re both thinking the same thing: if they stay absolutely still, maybe whoever has entered the store won’t even see them.

But, then Eddie’s voice calls out “Robin? Anyone?” And if they can hear it this clearly, he must have shouted loud enough to wake up the entire trailer park. Steve turns his head slowly enough that he can feel the stretch of each vertebrate as he finally faces the front door.

There, Mrs. Carruthers stands, staring down at him, nose upturned and wrinkled like she smells something bad. Steve meets her eyes and she sniffs audibly with disdain before disappearing into the shelves.

Steve drops his raised arm and leg and crawls the three quick strides to the discarded phone, dragging a tangled Robin behind him.

When he picks it up, Eddie’s humming loudly, like his new plan is to annoy them into speaking. Steve hates himself a little for finding it endearing. “Uh, Eddie?” he whispers, and the humming cuts out entirely. Steve keeps his eyes peeled for Mrs. Carruthers, unwilling to be caught in a compromising position by her again. “We’ll have to talk to you later, okay?”

“Uh, okay?” Eddie replies, more question than affirmative response, but at this point, he’ll take it.

He drops the phone, and as one, Steve and Robin jump up, hopping around each other to disentangle themselves from the cord as fast as possible. She trips and goes down on her knees, but she’s freed herself from the cord by now, so Steve spins himself free and dashes for the front desk, slamming the phone into the cradle right as Mrs. Carruthers rounds the shelves once more, tape secured in her hand.

Steve smiles his best customer service smile and asks, “Will that be all?”

From where she’s still on the dirty carpet, hidden from view beneath the desk, Robin snorts.

***

Before the phone line disconnects, Eddie listens to the weirdest set of sounds he’s ever heard. There’s a crash that he can only guess is Steve dropping the phone, then there’s some contextless rustling and grunting that goes on for an alarmingly long time. When the dial tone finally rings down the line, Eddie pulls the phone back to stare at it, perplexed.

“What the fuck?” he mutters before finally hanging it up.

The trailer’s quiet—he’d been happy when he thought there was something risqué on the menu, but now that it’s just him, he wishes Wayne was here. Or Robin, or Steve, anyone to fill the silence. Eddie pats his own crotch, mutters a quiet, “sorry, buddy,” to his disappointed dick, and goes to find something else to do.

He fills his night with campaign planning and the devil’s lettuce, the next day with breakfast with Wayne and fucking off so the old man can get some sleep. But that night, he calls Family Video and gets Steve all to himself.

He calls again the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that. He just keeps calling, and Steve always sounds excited to talk to him. Even when he’s at work giving himself his very own pair of blue balls. Or when Robin’s loitering around and all they can do is shoot the shit until the next customer walks in.

It’s enough to give him a complex.

But, they don’t hang out. Steve drives Dustin to Hellfire, held in the Wheeler’s basement now that Eddie’s finally snatched his diploma with both hands. He waves at Eddie where he’s making his way up the drive, smiling like a PTA mom dropping off their kid for a play date.

He doesn’t come inside.

There’s a movie night at Steve’s house, all the kids in a heap on the floor, Nancy and Jonathan sharing the same space in the Harrington’s only recliner, and Robin, Steve, and Eddie all piled onto the couch, Steve in the middle. The scant inches between his and Eddie’s thighs feel like the Mariana Trench.

They laugh and they joke, and it’s all exactly like it was before, like Eddie isn’t calling Steve every night to fuck his own fist to Steve’s surprisingly salacious words.

Eddie’s unraveling at the seams—something piteous and yawning opening up in his heart. He tries not to look too closely at it, doesn’t want to put a name to the feeling lest he ruin this one, shining thing.

Still, when Wayne asks, “you alright, boy?” one night, Eddie blurts, “I’m going to invite Steve over,” like it was inevitable. Like, somewhere in the recesses of his brain, he’s been plotting this, unbeknownst to himself.

Eddie’s more surprised than Wayne is. The old man just snorts, keeps lacing his shoes, running late for his shift as he replies, “make sure I ain’t here for that one, will you?”

“Wayne,” Eddie gasps. “This is how you support me in my time of need?”

“What need?” Wayne says, pulling his lace tight and double knotting it before standing with a groan. “Y’already like each other, don’t ya? People who like each other usually spend time together.”

Eddie gapes at his retreating back, sputtering on retorts that won’t quite come until he finally asks, “he likes me?” to the already-closed door. When he rushes over to it and peers out into the dark of Forest Hills, Wayne’s already in his truck, high-beams blinding Eddie where he stands. “We like each other?”

Wayne backs out, either having not heard Eddie at all, or deciding to ignore his nephew entirely.

It’s raining—Eddie spends a long time staring at the water dripping erratically off the roof, getting stuck in the leaves clogging the gutters.

When he goes inside, he calls the Buckley residence. Robin’s number is written on its own piece of paper stuck to the fridge, with Steve’s beside it, too sacred to hold any other information on it. Robin’s mom answers, but dutifully calls for her daughter, who picks up the phone, already sounding annoyed as she asks who’s calling.

Eddie ignores her question entirely, instead asking, “When’s Steve’s next day off?”

Robin snorts derisively. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Buckley,” Eddie replies, definitely not whining. She sighs, and he can feel her wearing down already, so he asks, “please?”

It’s silent for long enough on the other line that Eddie worries he’d read her wrong, that she wasn’t going to respond at all, but just as he opens his mouth to continue wheedling her, she says, “tomorrow,” and just as Eddie fist bumps, she continues, “you finally going to make a move?” and Eddie’s back to incoherently sputtering.

She laughs at him, and he reflexively hangs up only to pace erratically back and forth for the next hour, psyching himself up. They’re friends, he can invite Steve over. That’s what friends do, don’t they? Steve can sit on Eddie’s couch, they can watch a movie, or get high, or just chat.

He’d take anything if it meant Steve would be here, smiling at him, no Robin or kids as a buffer.

But when he calls that night, Eddie doesn’t say a word. He just listens to Steve whisper sinful things down the line, fisting his cock, eyes closed so he can pretend it’s not his own hand getting him there. It’s Steve—standing in the kitchen, close enough that his breath sends puffs of air against Eddie’s neck, hand a warm brand on him as he’s tugged to completion.

And when the line disconnects, Eddie stares down at his own spent dick and sighs.

If there’s anything Eddie Munson has always been, it’s a fucking coward.

***

The phone rings, and it’s a few hours early, so Steve doesn’t expect Eddie to be on the other line.

“Do you want to come over?” Eddie asks, leaving off his usual greeting entirely. “I rented Hellraiser, and Wayne didn’t want to watch it with me so…?”

Steve had already watched it with Robin during one of their shifts, pausing it quickly anytime a customer came in and giggling at all the overtly sexual scenes. So, he’s doubtful that Eddie ever planned to watch it with Wayne unless he’d heard absolutely nothing about the movie and failed to even read the synopsis on the back.

“Sure, what time?” Steve asks, not bothering to call him out on his lie. After all, if there’s anything that’ll pop this celibate bubble they’re living in, it’s watching that movie pressed together on the Munson’s couch.

“Uh, now? Whenever you can?” Eddie asks, sounding so much like an eager puppy that Steve grins. “Wayne’s got a double shift so he won’t be back until morning.”

Steve’s heard that same line from enough girls that he’s sure he knows where this night is heading. Excitement bubbles up within him, palms aching to reach out, to finally be able to touch.

“Alright, want me to bring anything?” Steve asks,

“Just yourself!” Eddie tries, all strained cheer. Maybe he’s more nervous than even Steve is. He hangs up before Steve can decide how to respond.

Steve puts the phone in the cradle and turns ideas over in his head. There’s his pair of jeans that even Robin says make his ass look good. Maybe a sweater to soften the effect? But, that’s not really Eddie’s aesthetic, is it? Should he wear black, or would that look like he’s trying too hard.

He stares into his wardrobe, unblinking, brain ticking away at all the options before he turns away, unchanged, and heads to the bathroom to check his hair. Once every hair is perfectly in place, he shoves his socked feet into his sneakers, not even bothering to untie them.

Come as you are is the general expectation for staying in with a friend. And that’s what he and Eddie are—friends. The same thing is expected from a booty call. Either way, he’s dressed perfectly. Putting in extra effort is for dates, and as he has to repeatedly remind himself on the drive over, this isn’t a date.

It’s not.

Steve regrets his decision when he knocks on the Munson’s front door and Eddie stares down at his faded long-sleeved Hawkins High swim t-shirt and old gray sweatpants with a piercing look he can’t read.

“Uh, hey?” Steve says, shuffling uncomfortably on the front step as Eddie shakes himself like a dog and comes back to life.

He’s smiling now, cheeks pink from the cold as he takes a step back, and gestures Steve inside. “Come in, man!” he cries, voice too-loud in the dark of the trailer park.

Steve steps past him, forearm brushing the arm Eddie’s using to prop the door open. As he closes the door behind them, Steve swears he can hear Eddie’s breath catch.

“So, movie?” Steve asks, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, waiting for Eddie to lead him into the living room. Steve dawdles by the couch as Eddie pushes the tape into the player, waiting to see where he’ll sit.

“Have you seen this one yet?” Eddie asks as he settles into his usual seat at the end of the couch.

Robin’s not here, but Steve still plops himself down on the middle cushion, letting his legs spread into Eddie’s space.

“Robin and I had it on when it first hit the shelves.”

Eddie makes a strange, wounded noise, and when Steve glances over at him, he’s staring down at Steve’s knee, wringing his hands. “We can watch something else?”

Steve nudges his knee even farther into Eddie’s space, knocking them together. Eddie’s breath catches and doesn’t start up again until Steve pulls back. “Nah, we watched it at work so I missed some of it.”

Eddie nods jerkily and turns back to the screen. They watch in silence. While Steve’s leaning back into the couch, lounging the way he always does at movie nights, Eddie’s sitting ramrod straight, like someone might come along and grade him on the curvature of his spine.

Steve sits, waiting for Eddie to make a move, but he just—doesn’t. There isn’t even a popcorn bowl they can accidentally brush hands in, or flirty conversation to be had.

Even as Frank and Julia fuck on the screen, Eddie doesn’t reach out. He just blushes and presses himself more firmly into the corner of the couch.

Steve might have misread this situation.

He watches the movie, the space separating their bodies aching like a missing limb, fingers flexing against his own thighs with the desire to reach out. He’s spent so long hearing the sounds Eddie makes that he can’t help wanting to see, wanting to touch.

But, Steve’s used to disappointment; he’s used to making the best out of the unrequited. He can do it again.

The movie ends, and Steve’s ready to make his excuses, get the hell out of here with his remaining shreds of dignity, but Eddie beats him to it.

“Wanna stay the night?” he asks, and when Steve looks back over at him, he’s slouching into the couch now, gaze still trained on the TV as the credits play out on the screen, like Steve’s answer doesn’t matter at all.

Steve’s beginning to suspect he’s misread the situation, again as he watches Eddie literally twiddling his thumbs, unable to meet Steve’s eyes.

“Uh, sure,” Steve replies, and Eddie turns to him, smiling so brightly, like Steve’s continued presence in his home is a gift.

Steve’s heart flops around in his chest, pitter-pattering away as he follows Eddie into his bedroom. There’s something blooming in his chest, bright and hopeful, and dangerous.

It feels alarmingly close to love.

***

His bed’s not big, so when Steve climbs in beside him, both settled onto their backs, Steve’s forearm presses against his own. The point of contact burns—Eddie doesn’t know whether he wants to press into it or jerk away, scalded, but Steve doesn’t move, so neither does he.

No one’s ever been in his bed before.

The scant inches between their bodies feel like miles. Eddie wants to reach past them, let their fingers tangle together. He wants to touch so badly that he has to clench his fingers into the fabric of his t-shirt to stop himself from moving.

Eddie’s room is as dark as it ever gets, his flimsy curtains muffling the brightness of his neighbors porch light. If he squints, he can make out the Steve shaped lump beneath the covers.

He feels like he’s suffocating in the oppressive silence of his room, breaths stuttering as he tries to keep them inaudible, heartbeat rabbiting damn-near out of his chest as Steve lays there immobile, making no sound at all.

It’s so quiet that when Steve sighs, long and low as he settles more firmly into the pillows, Eddie jumps at the unexpected sound. Unlike the sweet sighs Steve had let slip over the phone on their nightly calls, Steve sounds frustrated, disappointed even.

It’s that sound that gets Eddie’s hand creeping across the scant inches between them, moving slowly, like if he’s careful, Steve won’t even realize what he’s doing. The first touch is against Steve’s hip, grazing the fabric of Steve’s sweatpants.

He presses down firmer, feeling the warm body beneath the fabric, and that’s what makes Steve inhale sharply, body jerking. Eddie freezes, fingers trembling as he waits for Steve to say something, to get up and leave, to do anything.

He stays right where he is, slumping further into Eddie’s mattress, springs squeaking as his weight shifts.

Holding his breath, Eddie lets his shaking hand press more fully into Steve’s hip, moving slowly across Steve’s body until it’s tucked beneath his shirt, fingers just barely brushing against bare, heated skin.

Steve jolts again, and Eddie snatches his hand back and cradles it against his own chest like it's a wounded bird, sure that Steve will get up and leave. He’d been fine talking Eddie through orgasms over the phone, but this is one step too far. This is real—Eddie’s hands touching Steve’s skin, meaningless words given weight.

Eddie closes his eyes, unwilling to watch Steve’s shadow detach itself from the bed and slink out of his room like a dirty secret.

It’s a surprise when instead, Steve’s weight shifts, springs squeaking as he rolls over until he’s pushing Eddie into the mattress. Eddie’s eyes fly open, legs falling open on instinct as Steve settles between them, pressing down with enough force that there’s no way he’ll miss how hard Eddie already is.

But then he grinds down with intent and Eddie can feel Steve’s own erection pressing into his hip. He adjusts, lining their bodies up until all that’s separating them is two thin pairs of sweatpants.

The whine that escapes Eddie’s throat is embarrassing. He tries to cover his own mouth to keep it in, but Steve grabs his wrist and pulls it off his face, linking their fingers as he traps Eddie’s hand against the mattress.

“Wanna hear you,” he says, breaking the seal of silence that had shrouded his bedroom.

Eddie bites his lip against the next noise, at Steve’s mercy as he continues moving against him, grinding hard enough that Eddie’s sweatpants start to chafe. He doesn’t care, never wants Steve to stop no matter how much it hurts.

“Come on, baby,” Steve says, bending over him to bite into the meat of Eddie’s shoulder as he ruts down. Eddie’s lip jumps free from between his teeth as he groans, low and almost painful with the force of its vibration. “Yeah, just like that.”

Steve lets go of Eddie’s hand, leaving him bereft until his arms snake around Eddie’s shoulders pulling him closer as Steve buries his face in the crook of his neck. On impulse, Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s hips, pulling him down faster and harder. The bed’s shaking enough that Eddie’s worried his headboard smacking into the wall will break right through the shitty plaster.

They’re loud—his bedroom full of enough lewd sounds that he wishes he’d had a tape recording it so he could play it again and again. The sound of his own embarrassing moans, the way Steve’s breathing has gone erratic, the squeaking of Eddie’s old mattress. He feels drunk off it, mouth hanging open and drooling as he loses himself in it.

This is nothing like the few rushed hand jobs he’s had in Indy. The way Steve’s breaths hit Eddie’s bare skin feels intimate, the way his hands hold onto Eddie like he’s trying to merge them together.

He can feel himself unraveling thrust by thrust, entire body tingling from the tip of his dick to the molars in the back of his mouth.

“Steve,” Eddie gasps out, on the precipice of something he’s not sure he’ll survive, smothered by Steve’s weight and still needing more.

Like that’d been all he was waiting for, Steve leans back, untangling one of his arms from around Eddie to slide his hand into Eddie’s tacky sweatpants, fingers barely closing around Eddie’s cock before he’s gone, lost to the best orgasm of his entire life.

***

Eddie’s quiet when he comes—Steve’s not even sure he’s breathing as he writhes. Steve keeps his grip firm as he strokes him through it, enraptured by the view of the other boy beneath him. His curly hair is pillowed around him, blending into the shadows of Eddie’s sheets. His mouths open and a silent shout as Steve milks him for everything he’s worth, not stopping until the last spurt of hot come has landed on the back of Steve’s hand, and the look of ecstasy on Eddie’s face begins transforming into pain.

Half of Eddie’s come rubs off on the inside of Steve’s sweats as he shoves the now-free hand into his own pants and wraps it around his cock. He doesn’t ease himself into it, fist moving furiously on his dick as he watches Eddie’s eyes squint open beneath him before they pop wide as he realizes what Steve’s doing.

“Holy shit, Steve,” he says, reaching trembling hands out and clutching onto Steve’s hips to pull him even closer, fingers slipping beneath his rucked-up shirt until his fingernails dig into bare skin. “Yeah, yeah, you’re so hot.”

He says it all on one whispered breath, like he doesn’t realize he’s speaking at all, too busy staring down at the way Steve’s sweats tent around his dick, moving quickly as he fucks his own fist. Steve moans, the words and the scrutiny making heat pool in his blood.

It’s only a few more strokes before Steve’s groaning, eyes closed against the feeling tearing through him as he makes a mess inside his sweats. Steve pants, free hand pressed against Eddie’s ribs to keep himself upright, clenching into the fabric of his t-shirt as he tries to catch his breath.

When he has the energy to open his eyes again, Eddie’s still staring up at him reverently, clenching so hard against his hipbones that Steve’s pretty sure he’ll need to pry them off.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says again.

Steve throws his head back and laughs, too high on endorphins to regulate anything. Eddie’s fingers clench against his hips, bringing him closer together and inadvertently sending an overstimulated shiver through Steve as his spent dick is pressed against the inside of his pants.

“Yeah,” Steve says, panting from sex, and laughter, and whatever emotion is sending fireworks bursting through his sternum. “Holy shit.”

Even if his reputation has always been overblown, Steve’s had a lot of sex with a lot of people. It’s never felt like this—like if he doesn’t see the look on his partner’s face as they come, he might die. Like his own dick barely matters, just the sounds his partner makes getting him halfway there.

It’s been a long time since he’s wanted to stay after.

He drops down, slumping onto Eddie’s chest before he rolls to the side, staring up at the shadows drifting across Eddie’s bedroom ceiling. With a good orgasm comes the crash—Steve’s is hitting him quick, pulling him down, down, down, no matter how rapidly Steve blinks his eyes.

“Stevie?” Eddie asks, continuing when Steve grunts in return, “you still awake?”

He closes his eyes, whispers a quiet, “mmmhmm,” even as his body slackens, arm slung over Eddie’s waist, head becoming one with the corner of Eddie’s pillow, close enough that Eddie’s breathing is ruffling the hair on Steve’s head.

“Sure you are, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers.

As he falls into a blissfully deep sleep, Steve swears he can feel Eddie’s dry lips pressed to his sweaty forehead.

***

Eddie’s still out of breath from the best sex of his life, and Steve’s inexplicably already passed out. In his bed. In his arms, using half his pillow like that’s where his head has always belonged. Eddie bends down and presses a kiss to his forehead. If anything, Steve’s breath gets deeper, like a reverse sleeping beauty where Eddie’s kiss has only sent Steve into a deeper sleep.

His heart’s beating erratically, lodging itself in his throat; either this is what love feels like, or he’s having a heart attack. Regardless, his next actions are obvious. He paws blindly toward his extra pillow abandoned at the other side of the bed, strips the pillowcase off, and pushes it into his own pants, wiping the tacky come from his skin. His pants are still wet, so he rubs at them as well, getting as much off as he can lest they stick to his skin and rip his pubes out later.

Once that’s done, he stares at Steve’s peaceful face. It’s outlined in shadows in the dark, but even with the dim light, Eddie can see the dark stain on the front of his sweats. Not giving himself enough time to think further, Eddie pushes the still-clean side of the pillowcase into Steve’s pants.

He freezes when Steve’s breath stutters, knuckles barely brushing Steve’s soft skin as he waits for him to settle once more.

He’s gentle, wiping in small circular motions at warm skin. Steve doesn’t wake, pliant and trusting in Eddie’s sheets as he cleans him up. He wants to look, so badly, that his mouth’s watering with it, but he keeps Steve’s sweats at his hips, covering all that tantalizing skin.

Steve groans, a small, barely-there breath leaving him as Eddie pulls his hand out of Steve’s pants, the other boy now as clean as Eddie can make him without crossing any lines.

The pillowcase is wet, both of their spends mixing in its fabric, heady with sweat and come. Eddie wants to put it in his mouth, suck the fabric until it’s clean, but like looking, that feels like a step too far. The smell hits him though, gets stuck in his nose and makes its home there.

He wants to put it back on the pillow, and sleep on it all night, the tacky fabric sticking to his face, rubbing all over him until it reeks of sex and Steve Harrington.

Little Eddie gives a valiant twitch, but Eddie would rather die than to get up right now to take care of him.

He throws the pillowcase across the room and shares the pillow Steve’s head is already on, the other boy pressed into his side, still sleeping soundly despite all Eddie’s twisting and turning. His skin’s warm and soft curled against Eddie’s own.

He presses another kiss to Steve’s head and resigns himself to a long, futile night of trying to sleep.

It smells like bacon when he wakes up. Eddie opens his eyes, squinting against the sunlight filtering through the curtains, eyes hazy with too few hours closed. Still, he zombie-shuffles his way out of his bedroom, eyes half mast as he stumbles into the kitchen.

Wayne’s sitting at the kitchen table, Steve across from him, talking around forkfuls of food.

“Um?” Eddie says, blinking dazedly as they both turn to him, still smiling.

“Ed,” Wayne says, gesturing Eddie forward with his fork. Eddie follows its movement with his eyes and body, reeled in by that delicious smell. “Your boy made breakfast.”

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, half-asleep and unarmored beside the kitchen table.

Steve laughs, and it fizzes through him like a morning coffee, jolting his synapses to life. “I’ll get you a plate.”

Steve jumps up and rushes to get a plate from the correct cupboard before standing in front of the stove and dishing Eddie up like he does this every morning–like he belongs there. Eddie stares at him, the way his strong shoulders flex beneath his wrinkled t-shirt, how his hair’s fucked up in the back, the way he’s wearing a pilfered pair of Eddie’s own sweats because his had been—

“Boy, sit down,” Wayne orders, and Eddie drops into a chair, a marionette that’s lost the plot of its show.

He’s still wearing the pants he’d fucked Steve Harrington in. They’re stuck to his pubes even after his half-assed clean-up attempt last night. Eddie shifts in his seat, not daring to look down and see if there are any visible stains. It’s too late, and that would just draw Wayne’s eyes right down to where he least wants them to be.

Steve turns back around, plate heaping with hash-browns, scrambled eggs, bacon crisped to perfection, and a perfect golden brown piece of toast. It’s still steaming, made recently enough that everything’s still hot. He stares down at the offering before looking back up at Steve.

He’s having another heart attack.

“Eat your breakfast, Eddie,” Steve says, picking up his own fork again and scooping some eggs onto his toast before taking a large bite.

Eddie follows his lead.

The food’s just as delicious as it looks. Eddie loses himself in it, each mouthful tastes like all the mornings with Steve that this moment could lead to. Steve in front of the stove, making whatever he wants, towel over his shoulder to wipe away any runaway butter. Eddie coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, burying his unshaved face into his neck and burrowing in just to make him laugh and swat him away.

Eddie will learn to make eggs that aren’t rubbery, if that’s what Steve wants. He’ll make a thousand failed eggs until he gets it just right.

“Don’t like your food?”

Eddie jumps, egg speared on his fork jumping right along with him, falling off his utensil and splattering into his coffee. It’s Wayne who spoke, but his eyes go to Steve first. Steve who’s sending furtive looks his way every few seconds, even as he continues sipping on his own egg-free coffee. He doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie drops his fork with a clatter, grabs his piece of toast, and crams half of it in his mouth. “It’s delicious,” Eddie says, crumbs spraying out of his mouth.

He doesn’t care about the fucking food. He’d eat sawdust if Steve served it to him.

Steve wrinkles his nose, but he’s smiling again, and finally looks up, gaze warm as he looks at Eddie.

Eddie swallows the toast in his mouth. It hurts his throat going down, not chewed enough to ease the way, but Steve’s smile ramps up into a grin when Eddie takes another bite, so it’s worth it. He even drinks the fucking egg coffee down to the dregs, swallowing the egg at the bottom whole lest he accidentally taste it.

And when he walks Steve to the front door later that morning, they both linger at the threshold, even though Steve’s already running late for his shift.

The trailer’s duller once the beemer drives off, taking Steve along with it.

Eddie sighs, not at all lovelorn.

“Oh boy,” Wayne mutters.

“What?” Eddie whines, turning to glare at Wayne, hands on his hips.

Wayne snorts, getting up and shuffling off to get ready for bed, leaving Eddie to clean up the mess. “I ain’t getting involved in this, boy,” he calls, turning back to smirk at Eddie. “You’ll figure it out.”

Then he just shuts the bathroom door, leaving Eddie to pine away the hours until he can talk to Steve.

According to Jeff’s mom’s Cosmo, you’re supposed to wait three days to call a girl after a first date. But, Steve’s not a girl, and this wasn’t a date, and Eddie’s never played anything cool in his entire life. So, when eight p.m. strikes, he’s going to call.

He always will, as long as Steve keeps answering. Maybe even if he doesn’t.

part three

#SteddieWinterExchange #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #my fic

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amazingeurus · 1 year ago

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"seventh day, I found that he didn't get along so well with his famies."

#my art #sanzo #one piece

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missmarveledsblog · 9 months ago

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It's only pretend right? ( Bucky barnes x reader ) part one

summary : bucky (more so steve) agree's to be Y/N fake boyfriend for a week at her families ranch , he discovers his best friend left out some part that not all of her family is accepting of her but bucky is gonna be there every step to show them why she the best .

warnings : none well some shitty members of family , slow fast burn , idiots in love , mutual pining ,

A.N : this has been on back burner for so long so decided to let her out , sort of goofy love story some angst thrown in but mostly fluffy our dear bucky deserves that

The sun gleamed through the sky as most of the team enjoyed the rare time off, that was until her screams rang out through the compound sending him to break out into a sprint to the noise. He moved so fast it could have been compared to pietro maximoff not that he cared for anything like that , not in these moments . Due to the universe and its cruel ongoing joke , he was expecting the worst case scenario. Was she taken? , fighting against assailants? Was she hurt? It all came to his mind as he ran toward the source of the noise and yet in an instant that fear melted away when he heard her giggles and laughs looking in with now amusement. The sight was something James Buchanan Barnes couldn’t help smile so widely at . There he watched as three avengers stood like naughty children trying not to laugh at their own actions covered in ice cream and god knows what else. .

“ Now pretty girl not so funny now is it?” Sam teased.

“ What is going on here?” Bucky crossed his arms.

“ Well little miss here thought it was funny when poor stevie here fell spilling ice cream all over himself” sam started.

“ Actually you laughed first. If I can remember , I may have given her something to laugh at. "Steve chuckled.

“ He hit him right in the face with ice cream” she fell into Steve in a burst of laughter. “ So I showed her how it felt,”Sam nudged her.

“ Literal children '' Tony rolled his eyes looking at the earth's mightiest heroes covered head to toe in a now melted sweet treat.

“ Hey in my defense I came in to make the team something to cool down. They insisted on helping” she held her hands up.

“ Well that defense goes out the window when you're the one who tripped cap” tony smirked .

“ you little..” Steve began chasing her .

“ language” she giggled, rushing to get away from the super soldier which usually wasn’t an easy feat but the ice cream that covered the floor both helped and hindered her escape.

“ Bucky help” she ran into the men's arms , a both sudden and most welcomed action.

“ Leave my doll alone punk” he carried her out chuckling when he turned his head to see her sticking her tongue out at his best friend.

“Very mature” steve copied her action.

“ Just friends my ass,” Sam called.

She didn’t hear the words , still now aimlessly talking about her sister's new dog but bucky heard. A phrase he wished he could say was fact but it wasn’t because they were just friends . How he wished he could call the most beautiful being he’s ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on in all the years he’d been alive . how even something as hearing her voice made his worst days the best. How her laugh was in his own words definitely heaven sent. In four years , 2 with shield and 2 with the team he had studied every detail of the woman at his side , first because he didn’t trust new people then it was because he actually wanted to get to know her , the more he found out the more he fell for her. All her mannerisms he knew so he could tell when she wasn’t having a great day and he made it his mission to make it better. How she bristled like a kitten at the sight of John Walker, something he found in common and found adorable all in one.

If anyone were to ask James Barnes to describe his perfect woman that description would have been Y/N L/N because to him she was perfect. How she cared so deeply about those around her friends , family or even a casualty in a mission. That soft , sweet side along with the spitfire , kickass , stubborn and oh so sarcastic side that could rival stark in every way. She was serious when it came to missions but would be the first to cheer up and make everyone laugh after the mission . so it wasn’t hard at all for Bucky to fall for the woman. What he found hard was trying to express how he felt. When he went to tell her how he truly felt, suddenly he felt like he had swapped bodies with pre-serum Steve back in the day or the spider kid. Words would sometimes fail to even come out his mouth which was better when the words jumbled or stuttered , a stumbling mess that ultimately shut him up changing the topic completely.

“ So now I got the time off and all well I have to go for like a week and need to find a date in the next 24 hours” she sighed knocking the man back to earth completely confused to what she was talking about.

“ Sorry, what doll?” he shook his head.

“ My family reunion is a big deal sort of thing , my sister and brother both proposing to their girlfriends” she laughed .

“ hey bucky can go… sorry” steve winced seeing her jumping at his sudden appearance.

“ missions ?” she rolled her eyes.

“ Thor and Loki will be here,” Steve shrugged.

“ Well then settled i’ll be your date” bucky smiled awkwardly wanting to kiss his best friend's ass .

“ wait really … oh my god thank you bucky i’ll make it up and promise not to be the world worst fake girlfriend , ok i gotta pack you should do the same, oh nat waiting for me and i need to shower” she beamed almost skipping off to her room .

“ i’ll help him out” steve called .

“ Your welcome jerk,” the blonde chuckled before walking ahead toward his best friend's room while the man in question tried computing what the hell happened .

“ what the hell happened you” nat chuckled sitting on the bed looking her best friend walking in covered in god know what.

“ food fight with cap and bird brain” she shook her now stiff hair.

“Steve tells me Bucky is going to be your fake boyfriend for the week” she wiggled her brows.

“ yeah let me shower first and freak out about that after” she ran into the ensuite heart pounding. Nerves coursing through her as she had to pretend to be in love even though she was definitely not going to fake it. Since day one of meeting James Buchanan Barnes , well had her hook line and sinker. How could he not the man would cause a nun to sin with how hot he was. Pair that up with caring , understanding and all around amazing well she never stood a chance. Now she was going to spend the week pretending , almost having a taste of what it would be like to be the one he called his . even thinking of it made her knees weak and yet she shook it from her head knowing natasha was sitting outside on her bed. Scrubbing her hair as she giggled while sprinkles fell at her feet and enjoying the mobility of her hair again .

While only across the hall Bucky Barnes was panicking as he thought of the whole thing once Steve filled him in on the conversation he missed .

“ This is perfect. I mean you could make this the week you confess and finally get your girl” the blonde beamed brightly.

“ or completely screw up and lose her completely because let's be real with my life that is the most likely option” he pulled the case out.

“ Aye my man finally got the girl '' Sam cheered as he walked into the room

'' One shut up she could hear you and two I'm a fake boyfriend” he hissed, shutting the door .

“ well put on a good show that she will want the real thing… not like that not already of the case” he mumbled .

“ ok sit we can do this, '' Steve led him to the bed, pulling out clothes and a couple of suits .

'' What if I screw this up so bad she’ll quit the team and I'll never see her again” he stood pacing while the other two men rolled their eyes .

“ or you’ll see what we see '' Steve mumbled but the man before them was too lost in his head to pay attention to the non stop hints they tried to but he never did so it wasn’t anything new .

“ ok so the clothes end will be sorted and tony agreed to the time off well he told me to tell you not to waste it” steve smirked before heading off into the bathroom . “ Clint said he can drop you both off before he heads home so flights are covered,” Sam added .

“ Ok man, think of this week , where you don’t have to hide those feelings where you can act around her like you’ve always wanted to act” Sam turned, seeing Bucky still freaked out.

“ What if I make her uncomfortable?” he asked.

“ i’m not saying bang her on the spot i mean little thing like when your trying to hide the fact you stare at her like stark looks at his suits or pepper” sam rolled his eyes.

“ he’s right Stark loves those suits and you love Y/N'' Steve teased throwing the bag of toiletries into the suitcase.

“ this can be good … or it's going to be a complete disaster” .

“ how the hell am i going to do this… is it too late to fake my death and start a new life” she asked pacing while Nat and now wanda took the task to pack her suitcase.

“ No faking your death” nat rolled her eyes as wanda giggled .

“ how the hell am i going to convince my parents i’m with bucky but not scare off my best friend… male best friend” she corrected herself after nat shot her a look.

“ Be the way you guys are already,” Wanda winked.

“ be serious here i don’t want to lose my best friend.. You know what i mean” she rolled her eyes at nat.

“ You won't ok , you couldn’t lose Bucky even if you tried. '' Nat smiled softly just like the guys, the woman before them was completely oblivious to what was in front of her.

"I'd cancel but i can’t miss my brother and sister's engagement .. to separate people we ain’t that far down south '' she clarified hearing the words coming out her mouth . “ We know what you mean , look, just use the time to get the taste of the experience” nat said.

“ Maybe your eyes will finally see,” Wanda whispered under her breath.

“ hopefully we can sell it enough so my aunts and uncles finally stop with their matchmaking and finally like me i mean one of their blind dates brought me to a strip club was fun i mean he even gave me my own ones but that doesn’t scream marry me , ”she winced as the two women fell into a fit of laughter.

“ Is that why I keep finding glitter on you?” Nat wiped tears from her eyes.

“ Yeah, that courtesy of candy , we’re friends on facebook , great gal was gonna hire her for peter's birthday next month actually ” she smiled.

“ You'll kill the kid,” Wanda snorted.

“ Hey, death by candy is a way to go,”she winked.

“ You realize she and Peter are the same age and now i don’t know if you want bucky or candy” nat teased.

“ Ok enough on my bi curiosities of my new stripper friend , how am i going to survive a week of pretending to be in love but not in love with my best friend … nat stop glaring you know what i mean” .

“ This is gonna kill me”she fell back onto the bed.

Ten minutes he must have been standing at the door paralyzed nerves taking over and words escaping his mind to why he was there.

“ Just knock man this is pitiful , to think this is the once feared winter soldier can’t even knock on chicks door” tony rolled his eyes as bucky glared at the man. “ oh for fuck sake , thank me later terminator , don’t screw it up” was all the billionaire said before thumping the door and running off a bucky stood looking down the hall to contemplate how this was his life.

“ fucking asshole should of kill him instead of how… how are you doll you busy” he caught himself as she looked puzzled at the man. He could hear the laughs before the two women came to view .

“ shes all your barnes” nat winked letting him only confirm more people were aware of his feelings .

“ Tell candy we say hello” Wanda snorted as she followed Nat down the hall. “Candy?” he arched his brow.

“ my new erm .. stripper friend .. come in “ she cleared her throat trying to ignore the glint in his eyes when she said it.

“ what… actually tell me another time I'm here to go over a back story like the way we do on missions so I don't say the wrong thing or we get caught out” he smiled softly as her own feature light up at the suggestion .

“ You clever son of a bitch” she danced excitedly. The little drawl in her voice came out more when she was either happily excited or pissed off.

“ i didn’t even think of that , i mean you’ve met my parents not my siblings so sorry for that .. you’ll understand when you meet them” she snorted leading him into the room and toward her sofa .

“ Ok so obviously we met at work which I think my mom and dad just wanna prove i am actually an avenger” she chuckled.

“ Who asked who out?” he asked softly.

“Well I mean you asked me out cause if my aunts think the other way around they will think you're desperate or held hostage they have old way of thinking on somethings” she winced.

“ Ok deal , how long have we been together?” he asked .

“ Six months it's not too long to wonder why we aint been announced and not too short for you to meet the family” she nodded.

“ PDA” he coughed, hiding the nervous break in his voice.

“ Whatever you're comfortable with, we don’t have to go full PDA so I won't jump you during family dinner” she teased . “ Well I mean we cuddle and hold hands all time so that part ain’t so hard right ” she added her cheeks flushing.

“ No, it's a fine doll, I mean it’s kinda handy knowing all about you , well I thought I did until the whole stripper thing” he laughed.

“ Hey candy is an artist and everything huh? My my bucky barnes i didn’t know you were a fan” she teased .

“ says the one with 50 pictures next to my exhibit” he countered .

“ Hey, it's not my fault bird brain can't take a good picture anyway, shut it before I can switch you out with candy” she stuck her tongue out .

“ I mean you could but do they know her like they know me” he asked .

“ unless they frequent strip clubs when they visit.. Ok i grossed myself out”she scrunched up her nose at the thought while bucky though she was the cutest thing to ever exist.

"Go on doll hit the hay Clint is bringing us so you know it’s going to be early as hell” he stood kissing her head before walking out the room while she in turn fell on to the bed knowing the star of the dreams she was going to have was just across the hall.

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