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#but steve would rather die
Ok that last post I reblogged got me thinking... DM Steve. Somehow he gets roped into DMing a few campaigns for the Party and he's 100% the type of DM who acts tough but is setting up his players to succeed. Not like Eddie — he's genuinely a really tough DM, even if he does want his players to do well. Steve is all about fostering his kids' confidence and making sure they have the chance for some fun escapism after all the shit they've been put through. He's still gotta be a dick about it though — just like how he gripes about giving the kids free rides, he acts cocky and then complains when they break through traps which he carefully designed to have hidden weaknesses that match they Party's strengths. He's great at picking up on pieces of the kids' personalities in their characters, and using that to make sure their adventures are meaningful. Most of his NPCs are basically just versions of him, because he's not the most creative he claims — but really because he just can't resist using the characters to tell his kids he's proud of them.
And this feeds into his "rivalry" with Eddie: Steve already knew that his campaigns weren't the most complex or immersive, he just doesn't have that level of detail-oriented planning skill. It doesn't matter, he was just doing it as a favor to his friends, right? But then the kids start school and all of a sudden they won't stop gushing about Eddie Munson and how grueling his campaigns are, how he gives each of his NPCs unique voices, how he's the coolest and smartest person they know. And yeah, it kinda chafes against all of Steve's insecurities. Even playing DnD, he still manages to be the dumb jock, right?
It takes a while, but inevitably Eddie finds out that Steve has DMed in the past. Steve immediately gets defensive about it: yeah maybe he wasn't the Party's first choice for a DM and maybe his campaigns weren't exactly masterpieces, but the kids enjoyed them! Eddie, on the other hand, is close to fainting over the idea of Steve Harrington, of all people, as a Dungeon Master.
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meangirlstobin · 1 year
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steve when he’s not the most fuckable person in the room
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bookishswordfish · 21 days
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I think I just experienced one of the worst moments of my life.
There I was, writing my fic, when I asked my roommate for her thoughts on using contractions during standard narration aND SHE THOUGHT I MEANT CONTRACTIONS AS IN CHILDBIRTH
SHE WAS LIKE, “I THOUGHT IT WAS WEIRD ‘CAUSE IT WAS THE OUTSIDERS AND THEY’RE ALL GUYS”
JUST—
NO
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wibble-wobbegong · 2 years
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the male spectrum
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forcedhesitation · 4 months
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why should it just be steve who has all the torturous purgatory realm fun?
#dbd#myart#wip#quick clarification for those only familiar with the american version of ringu: sadako is 19.#anyway. I love that dbd lets me explore steve and nancy's characters outside the bullshit that the show is.#because the whole steve and nancy dynamic is Interesting. but the dustbags are plagued by cerebral hetrot so that story never GOES anywhere#it's just the “Waaaah love triangle OMG!!! will they? won't they?” crap. idk man. idc. why're these dumbasses breathing in Upside down air?#some people here have seen lucy before-- he is the ghostface pictured. and he's an OC. different person entirely from danny.#I won't explain his full lore here but-- he was a drag queen before the fog who started out by only killing those who he felt deserved it.#his entire persona satirises catholicism and he calls himself “the holy ghost” rather than ghostface. the entity made him an actual devil.#he's obsessed with steve because he LIVES his own role so he sees steve as his heroic opposite or some fucked up gay shit like that.#he's clutching kate's heart because if he were a real character in the game-- he'd have two moris.#one standard... and one for if a steve is present in the lobby. the second would involve him carving out the heart of a survivor as a gift.#he never harms steve though-- so it makes steve's penchant for self-sacrifice pointless.#steve instead has to do what he can to open the gates as fast as possible-- or watch everyone else die! :)#as for the toxic yuri-- it occurred to me that sadako's backstory bears some striking similarities to barb's story.#as soon as I realised this-- it was like I had suddenly gained the ability to see a new colour I could not see before.#sadako wanting to torment nancy as sick revenge for what happened to her but using barb's death as justification for this...#...nancy being unable to escape the ghost of barb... even in this hell dimension full of terrifying monsters--#it is still the memory of the girl she feels she “let” die in steve's pool that scares and hurts her the most.#not to mention that sadako's powers are reminiscent of how the upside down related fuckery appears...#the screwy technology. the telekinesis.#I just REALLY love seeing characters be forced to confront difficult parts of themselves even if that shit REALLY hurts.#dbd makes it so easy to do that to any given character. of course this goes both ways too-- it'd force lucy & sadako to change too.#which opens the door for torment on their end too because killers who disobey the entity are tortured into obeying.#a rock and a hard place on both ends. and that is Exactly how I like it. intense. complicated-- a puzzle to be solved.
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catharusustulatus · 1 year
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I can totally imagine season 5 being a speed run of seasons 1 and 2 Stancy-wise, where Jonathan and Steve bond and Jon is like “I need to work on myself and focus on family and I know you still love her” or whatever and then Nancy and Jon talk and lovingly break up with no fuss and then Steve and Nancy talk and Steve is like “look I am sorry about what I said in the upside down, I thought I was about to die and I know you’re with Jonathan and I don’t want to rush you and maybe we can just be friends” and she’s like “shut up and kiss me” and they have steamy pre-final battle sex, effectively bookending their arc in a symmetrical way. You just know it’s happening!
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karma-karma · 2 years
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Ronance shippers 🤝 Jancy shippers
Agreeing that St*ancy is the worst Nancy ship, and the worst possible outcome for Nancy as a character
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mrsbarnesblog · 9 months
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Tattoo
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
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“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 
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You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 
But you were so wrong. 
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 
“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 
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“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 
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The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 
“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 
“I can do it myself!” 
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 
He was good at it. 
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 
God, he must be big. 
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.” 
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 
“I do.” 
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 
“Good fucking girl.” 
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 
You both felt how close you were. 
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 
4K notes · View notes
imtryingbuck · 5 months
Text
His Flower.
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky and Y/n have known each other since they were babies, they love each other but don’t say anything until Bucky goes to war.
Word count: 11,963
Warnings: angst. fluff. mentions of cheating (not Bucky) mentions of domestic abuse. Swearing. Steve never visits Peggy when she’s old. Bucky knew about Steve getting the serum. Pregnancy. Sad Bucky (that’s a warning in itself) Bucky was accused of the bombing in Vienna in 2015 in this. Blip happens but none of the avengers get blipped nor do any of them die. There’s a lot…so if I’ve missed anything please let me know
Masterlist
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May 21st 1922
“Y/n stop running!”
“No”
“Why?”
“You have the lurgy”
Winnie and Y/m/n was standing in the shared courtyard laughing at the two five year olds as James ran after Y/n, the latter running as fast as her little legs could move.
The two women became friends rather quickly after Y/n, her mom and dad moved in next door just when Y/n was a year old. Baby James and Y/n spent everyday since they were introduced to each other, together.
“Those two…” Winnie laughed with a shake of her head as James finally grabs ahold of Y/n, her screams of laughter makes both mothers laugh along.
That was until the screams of laughter turns in to screams of pain.
James tripped over a loose concrete slab, in turn knocking into Y/n causing her to fall face first on the ground. Smacking her face and cracking her tooth.
“I-I-I’m sor-sorry Y/n I’m sorry” James cried backing up as their mothers came rushing over. His tiny hands shook as tears streamed down his puffy cheeks, he could see the blood flowing from her lips when her mom picked her up.
“Mo-momma it wa-was acciden-t I promise”
“I know sweetie, it’s okay” Winnie said after she helped her friend. Seeing her son shaking and crying as he backs up to the wall furthest away from them broke her heart, she and Y/m/n knew it was an accident and they both knew that James would never hurt his friend.
“I-it was accident” he hiccuped.
“Wan’ Jamie, mama wan’ Jamie”
Hearing her teary voice he pushed himself off the wall and ran around his ma going straight to Y/n. “I got you” whispering in to her hair as he wraps his arms around her.
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December 24th 1922
As the fire crackled next to James and Y/n as they played with his toy trains and cars Y/n’s parents argued in the kitchen, from what Y/n could tell from this latest argument was that her dad had been fucking another woman. Again.
“Jamie what fucking mean?”
“I don’t know. I think it makes you cry”
“Mama always cries when dada fucking other women”
James shrugs, honestly feeling a little bit scared because of the raised voices and things being slammed down on the counters though he was just five years old he was trying to be brave in front of his friend.
The voices got louder as Y/n’s mom was pushing her dad into the hallway, screaming at him that this was the last time and for him to never come back. A photo frame that hung up on the wall falls and smashes loudly on the floor causing James to flinch, Y/n notices and takes his hand in hers smiling - she’s grown accustomed to the bangs, screaming matches and things being broken that it doesn’t bother her anymore.
James flinched once again when the front door opens and slams shut with a deafening bang. His scared wide eyes looked at Y/n’s, she gets up and moves to sit next to him as her mom screams once more and stomps up the stairs no doubt to chuck all of her fathers clothes out of the window.
“I got you”
She promised as she wraps her small arms around his body.
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March 10th 1923
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMIE”
Y/n screamed as she ran over to him, she was so excited for his birthday she had made him a card and got him a new wooden train.
“Ahhh who are you little monster?” He screamed when she jumped on his back.
“‘M not a monster”
“You are”
“Not”
“Are”
“Kids stop arguing, you’re both monsters” Winnie laughed hugging Y/m/n.
“It’s my birthday Flower”
“No it’s my birthday”
“No it isn’t”
Both moms roll their eyes as the kids continue to argue, heading into the kitchen leaving both of them to stand in the hallway arguing.
Y/m/n was sipping the coffee that Winnie had made her, Winnie expressed how happy she was for her friend for not taking back her husband, though finding it sad that he hadn’t been around to see Y/n. Luckily George stepped up and had even brought the five year old a present for Christmas.
“Mama where is present?” Y/n asked running up to her mom.
“Here sweetie and here’s the card you made” handing over the present and card, Y/n smiled and thanked her.
“Here you go Jamie. I made the card all by myself!”
“Thank you Flower” opening the card he smiles at her messy handwriting and the drawing of him and her that she drew. James gave her a kiss on her cheek before handing the card over to Winnie, then he opened the brown paper wrapping. “Flower…”
“It’s a train Jamie”
“I-thank you so much!” James had his other one stolen from Jimmy who lived across the street, mean kid who loved to bully younger kids.
“It’s okay. Do you like it?”
“I love it Flower”
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June 2nd 1930
James and Y/n were walking down the street talking about how school went when James grabbed her hand causing her to pull it away and blush, giggling when he tried to grab her again.
“Flower stop, listen do you hear that?”
“No-wait now I do, what is it? Do you think it’s an animal? Can we keep it?”
“Yeah because animals can speak” he rolls his eyes, moving towards the entrance of the alleyway where the noise was coming from he turned to Y/n “stay here-“
“No I’m coming with you!”
“No you’re not. Just stay here”
Nodding in defeat Y/n watched him walk down the alleyway, a few minutes later she sees Jimmy and his goons running out and down the street. Running in the direction that James went she came to a halt when she saw him picking up a guy who was a lot smaller than him.
“Jamie who’s that?”
“Flower I told you stay where I told you to”
“Who is that?”
“M-my names Steve” the blonde said fixing his shirt.
“Hello Steve my names Y/n and this is James” moving closer to them she held her hand out to the blonde, turning to James “can we keep him?”
“Y/n he’s not an animal”
“But can we? We can be best friends forever and ever and ever and-“
“I’m sorry about her, she gets a bit excited sometimes” James said to Steve both watching Y/n go bright red as she continued to say ‘and ever’. “Flower breath”
“And ever and ever, please Jamie can we keep him I’ll be good forever and ever and ever-“
“Do you want to be our friend? Please say yes just to shut this one up”
Steve looked at both of them debating whether or not this was a prank, he’d gotten so use to being alone that the prospect of having two new friends scared him. But he could see the hopeful look in Y/n’s and James’s eyes, maybe just maybe this wasn’t a prank and maybe they genuinely want to be his friend.
“So…” Y/n asked getting impatient.
“O-ok, yes I’ll be your friend”
“Amazing! Come on we’re going to Mollys to get a burger-“
“And a milkshake! Have you ever been to Mollys? They make the best milkshake ever don’t they Jamie, they do so Stevie I swear”
“I apologise for her” James started.
Steve just smiled and shook his head “it’s okay bu-but I don’t have any money so I can’t come with you”
“Don’t worry about it Stevie I’ll pay for you. My father’s dead so we got money” Steve’s eyes went wide at how nonchalantly Y/n said that her father was dead.
“I-I’m sorry-“
“Don’t be I didn’t like him, so what milkshake do you want? They have vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. My favourite is strawberry and chocolate and Jamies is chocolate”
“Oh I-I’ve never had-“
James rolled his eyes as he knew what was coming. Steve looked at him wondering what he had said wrong when Y/n loudly gasped and threw herself on the ground.
“Flower-“
“He. Has. Never. Had. Milkshake. Before. Jamie”
“I know-“
“I-how, how does this even happen?”
“You going to get off the floor?”
“I can’t”
James leans over to take her hand in his and helped her stand. “Next time don’t throw yourself on the ground, your ma will get mad at you for ruining your skirt again”
“Come on Steve I’m going to blow your mind with the best milkshake in the world” ignoring James’s words she grabbed Steve’s hand and started to drag him to Mollys.
“Flower stop dragging him and be careful!”
To be truthful Steve didn’t honestly mind that she was dragging him along the pavement, he was quite excited about trying something new.
“Sooo whatcha think?” Y/n asked as soon as the glass was put in front of him.
“Flower he hasn’t even tried it yet” James laughed though he did have to admit that he was also wondering what his new friend was going to think of the drink.
Taking the straw in his mouth he took slow sips, liking the way it tasted straight away. “It’s good, I like it”
“Yes!” Y/n screamed causing some of the customers to look at her, not like she cared.
Luanne came over to serve them, she was an older lady who had grown use to the antics that James and Y/n liked to cause. As soon as she saw the two coming down the street she always had their milkshakes at the ready, knowing that on Monday, Tuesday and Friday Y/n had strawberry and the other days chocolate.
“Your usual darlings?”
“Yes please, Stevie what do you want?”
“I-I don’t have mo-“
“It’s on me I told you. We get burger and fries and they are the best”
“I-are you sure?”
“The best ever I promise”
“N-no about buying me food…you’ve already brought me a drink”
“Don’t be silly, do you want the same at us?”
“Okay, thank you”
Luanne smiled and walked away back to behind the counter. Steve watched as James or Bucky as he told him to call him, put his arm around Y/n’s shoulder and point at someone walking down the street. He couldn’t help but smile when Y/n laughed at whatever Bucky had said.
The food had come and true to her word it was amazing, Luanne came back over to hand them new drinks winking at Y/n who winked back, he found out that the second milkshakes were free. For the first time in Steve’s life he laughed and smiled genuinely, he had no idea that being beat up in some dingy alleyway would lead him to be making two new friends who actually seemed like they cared about him already.
Steve knew he had made two friends for life.
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14th February 1931
“Hey Stevie” Y/n sang as she skipped up to him.
“Hey Y/n/n you still doing that?” Referring to her skipping, it was a new phase she was going through. Every where she went she skipped.
“Of course” she giggled.
“Where’s Bucky?”
“With his girlfriend” she grumbled. Poor James thought his best friend liked his girlfriend but Steve observant as always knew that this was indeed not the case.
“Yo-you still don’t like her I guess?”
“No. Are you okay? Is your eczema play-“
“Asthma, Y/n I have asthma”
“Oh yeah ah, is it playing up today?” Receiving a nod she nods too. “How about we walk super slow so you can catch your breath”
“I-I need to g-get back to home, n-need to help ma cle-clean up”
“That’s okay I’ll help you and your mom I don’t mind”
“A-ar-are you sure?”
“Of course, plus I’ve missed your mom”
Arriving at the Rogers’s residence Sarah greeted Y/n with a tight hug and a kiss to her cheek happy to see the young girl again. Ten minutes into cleaning Y/n told Steve to sit down as his asthma was getting worse, Sarah tried to help out but Y/n just shook her head and told her that it was fine.
She truly didn’t mind helping in cleaning up, she had grown use to having to do it at home since her mom was always working and her step father was too lazy and drunk most of the time to do it.
A year after kicking her father out of the house for the last time her mom got divorced from him as he was wanting to marry the woman he had been cheating on her with. Unfortunately her mom married another lazy man who only thought of himself.
But her mom was happy so Y/n was happy for her.
When her father died for some reason her mom received all his money. Which it had annoyed his new wife tremendously.
“It’s getting late darling, you should head home-oh just before you go here’s some mon-“
“No need to Mrs Sarah, I’ll see you tomorrow Stevie”
Waving goodbye and leaving the house before Sarah could argue about giving her money, skipping down the street she didn’t realise how dark it was when she was in the warm home that belonged to the Rogers.
As she got closer to home she came to a stop when she heard strange noises come from an alleyway, choosing to inspect the sounds she crept down the dark path, furrowing her eyebrows at hearing two different voices she was about to pop her head around before freezing.
“Oh Bucky” a girl moaned.
Slapping her hand across her mouth she started to stumble back. Of course she knew that James was going to be having sex, he was handsome and every girl wanted him, and of course she knew what they was doing she wasn’t stupid but hearing what followed after the girl moaned broke her heart.
He called his girlfriend Flower.
The name that he had always called her he was now calling someone else it. It was her nickname that he gave her since they was four and now he was calling some girl he had been dating for two months her name.
It broke her heart.
For three weeks she had managed to successfully avoid James she knew it was silly for not talking to her best friend over a nickname that he had every right to call someone else but she just couldn’t help but feel down knowing that she wasn’t his flower anymore.
“Y/n, Bucky and Steve’s here for you” her mom shouted from the door, she could hear her talking to them from where she was stood at from the top of the stairs.
Her heart dropped when her mom told both boys just to head up to her room. Scrambling and knocking over her little brother she ran into her room, shutting the door quietly before jumping on the springy mattress causing the metal bed frame to squeak loudly.
“Knock knock little monster” she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Come in” and she also knew that he would be frowning at her response, it wasn’t the usual one she gave him.
“Hi Flower” if he noticed her tensing he didn’t say anything about it.
“Hi Y/n/n”
“Hi boys. What are you doing here?”
“Missed you, you haven’t been around much” James said watching her reaction.
“I’ve been busy” she shrugged. It wasn’t a total lie but wasn’t the whole truth either.
“Doing?” James knew that she was lying, whenever she did she could never look him in the eyes.
“Things”
“What kind of things?”
“Things James! I do not understand why you are so nosey”
“Because I miss my Flower” stating it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He frowned when she flinched at his nickname for her. “W-what was that for? Why did you flinch”
“I-I don’t know what your talking about”
“You flinched when I called you Flower”
“You did Y/n” Steve interrupted, he did hate having to come in between his best friends but he knew that if he didn’t it would probably go on and on.
“I-“ sighing with a huff she shrugged her shoulders. She knew James better than anyone she knew he wasn’t going to give up any time soon. “I heard you”
“Heard me? What are you talking about?”
“Calling your girlfriend Flower”
“I-I’ve never-”
“In the alleyway when you were having sex”
Steve shifted awkwardly on his feet whilst James stood still like a statue. He couldn’t understand what the problem was, so what he was having sex at least it was with his girlfriend, why would his best friend be upset about that?
“You called her Flower James.”
Oh. Oh shit.
“I-you-it-“
“Whatever it’s just a nickname right? I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken to you in weeks but it hurt Jamie, but she’s your girlfriend-“
“I broke up with her”
“Right…so can we be friends again?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I broke up with her?”
“No. I just want to be your flower again”
“You’ve always have been Y/n, nobody will take that away from you”
Sliding off the bed she jumped on James, wrapping her arms and legs around him hugging him like she had never done before.
Yes it hurt because he had called someone else the name he had given her but she realised she was being silly for not talking to him over it, he was her best friend as well as Steve and that’s all that mattered.
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December 10th 1941
The Second World War had been going on for three years and now America was getting involved after the attack on Pearl Harbour, it’s all everyone spoke about, before there was young men leaving their homes and families to go over to Britain to help fight, a fight they had no reason to be apart off other than to help beat the bad guys, now no one had a choice but to fight.
When James told Y/n that he too enlisted in the army it crushed her heart, she knew he was doing it to help defend his country but that didn’t stop her from being scared. Scared of losing him.
“I can do this all day” Steve panted as the guy tried to get closer to him and Y/n. Y/n couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Steve’s confidence, she knew that he could not in fact do this all day. His asthma was getting the better of him.
Just as Steve was about to leap forward to defend himself and Y/n the guy was pulled away by the scruff of his jacket.
“Pick on someone your own size” James kicked the guy away, watching as the bully scramble away.
Y/n and Steve stood there frozen on the spot at seeing James dressed in his uniform.
It was really happening. She was going to lose her best friend.
“Why are you wearing that?”
“Because I’m a pirate. I’ve been recruited Flower, I ship out tomorrow” though James had a smile on his face his stomach churned at reminding himself of when he was going to fight, churned at not knowing when he was going to see his Flower or Steve again or if he ever would.
“Tomorrow? T-that’s not enough time-no Jamie you can’t-“
“I have to Y/n-“
“Tell them no.”
“You want me to tell the US Army no?”
“Yes”
“Flower”
“Or I’ll do it if your to chicken”
“Chicken? Really?”
“Guys stop arguing.” Steve tried to intervene but it was too late. He watched as his two best friends argued back and forth, feeling annoyed at the fact that he had been rejected once again no matter what name he used or what area he said he was from. And yet his best friend had been accepted by the Army and was allowed to go and fight against the bad guys.
“Anyway come on, we’re going to the Stark Expo”
What James failed to mention to the pair that he had a date with Connie or was it Bonnie? He couldn’t actually remember but whoever he was going on a date with the other girl was for Steve, he felt slightly bad that Y/n would have to be fifth wheeling even if he knew that she would end up leaving under the arm of some guy.
“-so I told him that he had to look after his own children you know? And guess what he said to me-Stevie? Ste-not again” Y/n muttered when she realised that not only had she been talking to herself for god knows how long, but when she turned around she saw the small frame of her best friend going into a recruiting tent that was set up at the Expo.
Following after him she watched as he went into a small makeshift room, entering she laughed when Steve tried to cover his naked chest.
“Steve seriously? You can’t keep doing this-“
“Why not? I can fight, just because I’m smaller then everyone including you doesn’t mean that I can’t help“
“You’d be killed straight away Steven!”
“So what?”
“So what? Steve-“
“I’ve agreed to be part of a science project for a doctor-“
“A science project? Steve what the hell are you talking about?”
“I-it doesn’t matter what does matter is that I’ve been accepted and I’m going to war”
“No. I forbid you from going”
“Forbid me?” Steve scoffed finding her behaviour stupid. He wanted to do that right thing and she was forbidding it. Ridiculous. “You can’t stop me Y/n”
“I-I don’t want to lose you too”
“What are you talking about? Buck will be fine”
“He might not Steve you don’t know this. I can’t-don’t want to lose my best friends please just stay with me here an-and wait for Ja-“
“No Y/n I’m doing this! Stop being selfish”
Being called selfish had whatever response she was going to reply back with to die on her tongue. Y/n was called selfish time and time again by her step father when she wouldn’t look after her siblings, his children. She had grown to detest that word, hated to be called it which James and Steve knew.
Steve instantly knew that he had messed up but before he could apologise he watched his best friend nod, spin on her heels and walked out.
James looked around with a smile on his lips when the flying car got higher off the ground frowning when he didn’t see Flower or Steve, his eyes darted around to find them, his left eye twitched slightly when he saw Y/n coming out of the recruiting tent he knew she had probably tried to talk to Steve out of signing up. 
Ever since the war was declared Steve had become slightly obsessed with going on the front lines along with the rest of the hero’s and fight. James and Y/n took it in turns to get Steve away from the recruiting centres, took it in turns comforting him when he got turned down because of his health problems.
Leaving the girls where they were he went to find Steve to see what had happened. “Steve seriously man just give up”
“Don’t start Buck I’ve had enough of Y/n trying to stop me.” Steve told Bucky how Dr Erskine had given him the opportunity of joining the war to the whole conversation between him and Y/n, he quietly told his best friend that he had called their friend selfish.
“You called her selfish? Steve!”
“I know okay I know I messed up but-“
“Did she say where she was going?”
“No, I thought she was going to find you”
Bucky goes to reply when he gets interrupted by the two girls that he and Steve were meant to be on a date with, asking if they were still going dancing, James sighed before telling them no he had other plans. The girls wasn’t happy but James didn’t care, he needed to find his Flower.
Saying his goodbyes to Steve he turned on his heels to go to Y/n’s house.
Knocking on the door he waited patiently for someone to open, Y/n’s little sister opened and smiled instantly showing Bucky her missing front teeth. “Y/ns in her room”
“Thanks little one”
“‘M not little anymore!” She pouted, the same pout that reminded him of Y/n’s when she was younger.
“No, no you’re not” ruffling her hair he laughed when she tried to hit him, he’s always had a habit of winding up their younger siblings.
Bounding up the stairs nearly tripping over the toy train that belonged to her younger brother he turned the corner and knocked on Y/n’s bedroom door.
“Go away”
“Wow that’s rude Flower”
“Jamie?”
“Who else is calling you flower?”
“No one”
“Are you going let me in or we going to keep talking with a door in between us?”
“You may enter”
Entering her bedroom his heart clenched in his chest at seeing her eyes and cheeks red, tear strained track marks on her puffy cheeks. Ever since they were young he’s always hated seeing her cry.
His stomach dropping when he sees the photograph in her hands, knowing exactly which one it was. James had dragged Y/n and Steve to Coney Island for the day, James made Steve go on the Cyclone which was absolutely terrifying yet amazing at the same time. Steve didn’t quite enjoy it like Bucky or Y/n as he vomited pretty much everywhere.
Winnie, had taken the photo that morning they were standing outside the home James grew up in, smiling at the camera. Y/n in the middle of the two guys, Bucky had his arm around her shoulder and she had hers around Steve.
It was the only photo she had of the three of them.
“Flower…”
“He’s leaving me too, a doctor-a scientist has told him that he can join if he takes part in an experiment James. I-I don’t want to lose you both Jamie”
“Hey-hey your not losing either one of us doll-“
“But I am. This war is dangerous and if I lose either one of you I-I-“
“I promise you that I’ll come back-“
“You can’t promise me that Buck”
“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, you know this. And I’ll always come back to you Y/n, always. Especially if you let me make an honest woman out of you” his voice went quieter, serious, hopeful that she would hear the genuine words that he spoke.
“You…want to-after going on a date with someone else on your last night of freedom-want to make an honest woman out of me?”
“I, yes. Y/n flower it’s always been you”
“I should be the one making an honest woman out of you-wait-what?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her facial expression when she finally registers his words “I’ve been in love with you for so long Y/n”
“And you’re telling me this the night before you ship off to god knows where?”
“You know me Flower, I’ve always been good with timing”
“You really aren’t” she laughed.
“Am too. But what do you say? When I get back I’ll marry you, get us a nice house maybe on a farm? We can have all the animals you want-yes even a dinosaur even though they don’t exist-and we’ll have children, and we can be happy forever”
“Y-you really want that with me?”
“There’s no one else in this world that I want that life with Flower”
Instead of verbally answering she threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding so fast Bucky thought her head might fall off. Bucky held her face in between his hands just staring at her, he knew that she would never see herself in the same way he has always seen her, he lent in pressing his lips to hers hopefully being able to show her how much he loved her without saying those words out loud.
That night they slept arm in arm with one another both equally dreading for the sun to come up.
When the sun finally made an appearance, he left with the promise that he would be back in an hour so that their families could walk him to the docks, and not without stealing another kiss from her.
Hand in hand an hour later with Winnie, Rebecca, Y/m/n, Y/n’s stepdad and siblings met up with Steve who was waiting outside Mollys with three milkshakes. Everyone walked ahead whilst the three best friends walked slowly behind them, wanting to try and delay the inevitable.
“My promise still stands Flower, I’ll come home and we’ll have the perfect life together. I promise”
“You best come home to me then Jamie or I’ll beat you up”
“Wouldn’t doubt that for a second” he chuckled, everyone else joins in. “I promise to be safe and come home to you Flower. And I’ll write to you when I can okay?”
“I’ll write back to you I promise.”
When the last signal called for all soldiers to get on the ship, Bucky swallowed the sob that tried to make its way out of his plumb lips. Hugging his ma and sister one last time, and his best friends mom and siblings before making his way to Steve, hugging Steve he asked the blonde to look after Y/n which Steve promised he would. Standing in front of Y/n he smiled sadly and wiped her tears away before kissing her one last time, he’d already grown addicted to the way she tasted and the way her lips fit perfectly against his.
He couldn’t wait until he got back so he could spend the rest of his life kissing her.
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March 15th 1942
“Y/n there’s a letter here for you!” Her little sister shouted from the bottom of the stairs, there was only one person that would be writing to her, hearing her sister she fell out of the bed with how fast she was trying to get out of it, running down the stairs she grabbed the letter out of her sisters hand.
“Y/n slow down” her mom tried to warn her but it was no use she was already running back upstairs. The excitement getting the better of her. Ripping open the envelope she settled back on her bed.
***
Dear Flower,
It’s been three months since I last saw you and I’m missing you more and more everyday, how are you? Have you been missing me? How’s Steve been? I’ve wrote to him too but I know you’ll tell me the truth.
I’m still holding on to my promise I made so don’t be finding any other man, please.
I’m sorry it’s not the longest letter but I don’t have much time, I’m sorry.
I love you Flower, I should have told you that the last time I saw you but just know I do with all my heart, I’ll see you soon.
All my love
Your Jamie.
***
“So…what did he say?” Y/n was so engrossed in the letter she didn’t hear her bedroom door squeak open or see her mom and sister standing in the doorway.
“H-he said he loves me, momma he loves me”
“Have you only just noticed?”
“What?”
“That boy has been in love with you for as long as I can recall” her mom said as matter of factly.
“I-I need paper a-an-and a pen I need to tell him that I love him too”
Her mom smiled before handing her a piece of paper and a pen that she hid behind her back, she even gave her money so she could get a stamp to put on the letter.
***
Dear Jamie,
I love you.
I’ve been doing good, helping down at the factory with the rest of the women it’s good, I’ve made a friend her names Dot her husband is also fighting, she’s got two kids and Jamie they are the cutest little kids I’ve seen! Of course I have been missing you Jamie! Steve’s doing okay, he’s got a crush on a British woman names Peggy (but don’t tell him I told you that) she’s pretty, smart and really nice. I think she likes him too!
No other man will take me away from you Jamie I promise, I can’t wait to marry you and be able to wind you up for the rest of our lives together, I’m joking. Or am I?
Don’t apologise for your letter being short, anything is better than not having any from you, as long as you are okay and safe that’s all that matters to me.
I love you with all my heart to Jamie, honestly and truly.
Be safe and come home to me.
All my love
Your Flower.
***
Folding the letter and sliding it in an envelope her mom had given her when she was writing, she slipped her letter into the envelope sealing it off she ran downstairs slipping her shoes on she ran out of the house and down the street to the post office.
“A-a s-stamp pl-please” she panted at the worker.
The second the stamp was sealed securely on her envelope she posted it. Her heart raising rapidly, the temptation to just stand there and wait for the mailman to collect all the letters was there until someone cleared their throat from behind her.
“Sorry, I’m sorry” she muttered before leaving, now she just had to wait now until Bucky wrote her back. Shouldn’t be too long. Hopefully.
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June 21st 1943
She last received a letter from James three months ago, he told her where he was and how he was doing, told her all about his comrades, told her that he’d come back to her. Ended that letter like the rest, with him telling her how much he loved her. Writing back as quickly as possible she told him how things were going, telling him about her news friends from the factory, and like all the others she ended it with telling him how much she loved him.
Everyday for three months she waited patiently for a letter to come, sighing deeply when she never received one. She was starting to get nervous at the prospect of something bad happening to him, but she kept pushing that thought away as she saw Rebecca everyday at the factory and she hadn’t said anything to her.
Six months after James left for war Y/n moved to a small apartment above the post office, it was small but enough for just her. One night after finishing her shift at the factory, Mary who worked at the post office came running out to her handing her a letter, Y/n ran up the stairs struggled to open her front door like always before she managed to get it to open, quickly closing and locking the door - keeping her promise to James who had made her promise to keep her front door locked at all times.
***
Dear Flower,
I’ve missed you terribly. How are you? I hope you’re okay and safe.
How’s Steve doing? He’s not been really responding to my letters. I’m a bit worried about him.
I’m sorry my letters are getting shorter, it’s just things have been hectic lately.
You’re in my thoughts and prayers every day and night, I’ll come home soon and I’m all yours forever I promise.
I love you more than anything Y/n.
All my love
Your Jamie.
***
Wiping her tears she moved to get her paper and pen, settling on her couch she started to write.
***
Dear Jamie,
I’m missing you more and more every day, I’m doing okay and I’m safe, you do not need to worry about me just as long as you are safe and sound that’s all that matters to me.
Steve will be getting the serum tomorrow (22nd June) I’m scared for him but Peggy has told me that everything will be okay. She’s even said I can come along too, Rebecca has said she will cover my shift because she’s an angel. Steve’s been busy but he’s okay I promise, oh…he jumped on a grenade BUT don’t worry it wasn’t a real one! I screamed and cried when Peggy told me, then I smacked Steve…he deserved it.
I’ve already told you not to worry about the shortness of your letters, I reread every single one of them over and over again.
You’re in my thoughts and prayers day in and day out.
I love you more and more than you’ll ever know. 
All my love
Your Flower.
***
Sealing the letter in the envelope she unlocked the door and skipped downstairs where Mary unlocked the door and handed her a stamp, Mary knew the routine that Y/n had every time she got a letter that she waited long after closing so her new friend could post it that same day.
“Thanks Mary”
“Don’t need to thank me, how is he?”
“He didn’t say…but he said he misses me, it’s hectic over there so”
“It’s understandable, are you meeting Steve and that Brit tomorrow?”
“Peggy-“ Y/n laughed “-and yes, it’s a very big day tomorrow”
“What’s happened again?”
“H-he has a special operation and I’m just going for emotional support” she smiled, Peggy told her not to say anything to anyone but Mary had overheard Y/n talking to Steve about it. So she told her Mary that it was an operation he was having.
“Well I hope it goes well. I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight darling”
The next morning Y/n waited outside for Steve and Peggy to show up, nearly ten minutes later a sleek black car pulled up and Peggy got out greeting her. Instantly regretting sitting in the middle of two people who were flirting, made worse by Steve as he didn’t realise that Peggy was in fact flirting.
Just like the car ride Y/n blanked out most of what Dr Erskine was waffling on about, her eyes kept going to the bed where Steve lay strapped in to Howard Stark, still slightly star struck.
Everything happened next was lost on her. Her heart raced when she heard Steve screaming in the chamber, a beast of a man was released from said chamber it looked like Steve, her best friend Stevie but this guy was huge. Strong. Muscly. Taller.
Before Steve had to look up to her and now it was the other way around. He said her name and smiled, he pulled her into his arms as she gaped at her best friend’s transformation. Steve released her to look at Peggy as she moved closer.
The unmistakable bang of a gun firing sounded in the room, Steve wasted no time in knocking Y/n on the ground covering her body with his. Dr Erskine had been shot, Steve took off barefoot after the gunman, Y/n’s hands were drenched in blood as she tried to put pressure on the wound, Howard Stark helping her by covering his hands over hers.
It all happened in a blur.
It all happened to fast.
She didn’t like it, she was scared.
She wanted Jamie.
She was always safe with her Jamie.
“Y/n? Y/n look at me love, it’s Peggy. I need you to concentrate”
But she couldn’t. There was too much blood. There was chaos in the background and the only thing she could focus on was the shaking of her hands covered in someone else’s blood.
“Y/n please darling snap out of it” that sounded a lot like Howard she thought to herself.
She could hear them talking then she saw Howard standing and moving away slowly. Then everything came into focus. The look of distress in Peggy’s eyes, the destruction of the room, the white sheet covering a body.
“S-Steve?”
“He’s, he’s okay. We need to go love”
“I-I-I want Jamie”
“I know but he isn’t here right now an-and he will be rather mad at me if I don’t get you out of here, so please follow me”
Despite the blood on Y/n’s hands Peggy still took them in hers and helped her stand, although Peggy didn’t really know Y/n all that well she knew that Steve cared deeply for her, making her care about the woman. Her main focus was getting Y/n to safety and then she could worry about everything else.
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December 10th 1944
It’s been well over a year since Y/n watched Dr Erskine get shot and killed, in that year she went back to work in the factory. Nothing really changed for her in that year that had gone by, months would go by without a letter from Bucky she knew that he was still alive as his family wasn’t informed to state that he was dead.
It brought her some relief. But that didn’t stop the sadness from sinking in when she didn’t get a letter.
Steve had become a circus monkey for America, gaining himself the name Captain America. When she saw one of his shows for the very first time she couldn’t stop laughing. The outfit. The way he looked so unsure and uncomfortable. The music. The acting. It was laughable.
“Stop laughing Y/n” Steve said walking into the tent as she followed behind him.
“I-god you look ridiculous Stevie”
“Stop laughing!” He tried to act mad but her laugh had his lips turning upwards. For Steve it had been a long time since he heard her laugh like that. He missed it.
In October of 1943 Steve showed up at her apartment acting different, he was quieter, avoided talking about Bucky. Y/n had asked him if there was something wrong but all he did was give her a tight lipped smile and shook his head.
He wanted to tell her that he was told that Bucky and his unit had been captured as POWs, he wanted to reassure her that he was going to do everything in his power to get him back, to bring him home to her so they could get the life he’s knows they’ve always wanted with each other. 
But he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to say them words and see her smile fade, tears gather in her eyes so he remained silent and listened to her rambling about something one of the girls said at work.
He couldn’t fail her, he was going to bring Bucky back no matter what it took.
Unbeknownst to Y/n not only was Bucky captured and then saved by their once scrawny little friend but that in ten minutes there was going to be a knock at the door and she’d be taken by two soldiers to go somewhere.
“It’s like I’m invisible” Bucky mutters when Peggy doesn’t even give him a second glance, he found it funny that Peggy had to practically spell it out for the blonde to understand what she was trying to hint. He knew that if Y/n was here and saw the exchange she would have been smiling so wide with her hands clasped together against her heart.
A small smile made its way to his lips as he thought about Y/n, his Flower. As soon as he got back to camp from being saved by Steve he went straight to his tent and wrote a letter to her, sealing it up in an envelope he got from one of the soldiers, giving it to the person he needed to for it to be sent off. Already excited for her letter. He missed her more than anything.
“You thinking about her Buck?” Steve’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Of course, she’s always on my mind-what?”
“Who’s always on your mind?”
“Ms Potts from down the street-“ he rolled his eyes “-Y/n, you’re an idiot sometimes Steve I swear”
“I’m always on your mind Jamie?”
Bucky’s eyes went wide looking Steve in the eyes, the blonde just smiled at him. Slowly turning around, his heart thumped loudly in his chest, blood rushing in his ears he turned to find the source of the voice he has missed hearing.
Well aware that his unit, his team, strangers that became friends were standing around, he didn’t care if they saw their Sergeant with tears gathering in his eyes.
He didn’t care about anything other than Y/n who was currently standing in front of him. Her flower print dress fit perfectly, lightly moving as she stands there. Her eyes focused on him as he took her in, god she was so beautiful.
“F-Flower?”
“Hi Jamie”
“Wha-how-your really here? I’m not dreaming again am I?”
“No” she giggled, the sound making his heart tingle.
“If you don’t kiss her I will” Dum Dum shouted making everyone laugh. But not Bucky. No it made him move quicker than he’d ever moved before, cupping her face in his hands he smiled before placing his lips to hers. Steve joined in with everyone else as they cheered and clapped. 
“You’re really here” Bucky whispered against her lips, resting his forehead against hers breathing in her scent.
“I’m really here”
That night he took her to his hotel room that they had been allowed to stay at, and made love to her for the first time. Three times that night. One more time before they had to say goodbye to each other again.
Just as she was about to get into the car Bucky kissed her one last time, and got down on one knee, proposing to her with a metal nut - that he had found in the room they shared - asking her to marry him before she could answer he promised that once he was back he’d buy her a ring.
Kissing him she held out her hand for him to slid the nut onto her finger.
“I’m getting married to my Flower” he said as the car that carried his love away. Steve smiled at his best friend’s happiness.
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January 28th 1945
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Dot asked Y/n as she threw up for the second time that day.
“I’m okay. Must have been something I ate”
“You sure? Didn’t you say you saw James last month?”
“Yes…why?”
“Did you two…you know”
“Wha-oh, yes, a few times” she admitted, her cheeks going bright red.
“Do you think? Maybe? Right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You might be pregnant” Dot whispered.
Her head spun as the words from her friend settled in. She hadn’t had her period she realised. No. Surely not, right?
“Go and see the doctor after your shift and check” Dot continued.
“I have half an hour off before I start back up again”
“I’ll cover you”
“You’ve got kids you need to-“
“My mom’s here to help me, I’ll be fine”
“But-“
“No buts missy, you need to find out if you are.”
After twenty minutes of arguing back and forth with Dot, Y/n finally caved. Going to the hospital she waited patiently for her bloods to be taken. Completely unaware that across town two families were receiving the worst news.
Getting her keys out of her bag she froze when she saw Steve standing outside her apartment dressed in civilian clothing as Bucky called it now.
“Steve? Hey! What are you doing here?”
“Y/n, I need to talk to you”
“Is it Jamie? Steve? Where’s Bucky?”
But Steve didn’t answer instead he took her keys from her shaking hands and unlocked the door, pushing it open he turned to grasp her arm and guided her in to her apartment. His heart sinking further into his stomach than it already was before coming to her apartment, when he saw the metal nut still sitting on her finger.
“Steve…”
“I failed you Y/n/n I-I’m so sorry”
“He’s okay. He is. I know it”
Shaking his head the scene replying over and over in his head like it had for the past week since he watched his best friend fall to his death “H-he-he’s gone Y/n, I’m so-sorry” He jumps up just in time to catch her as she falls to her knees, a painful sob leaving her lips.
Sadly Steve wasn’t done.
“Y/n…there’s something else, Michael…he’s been killed”
Michael was her half brother. She was close with him, closer to him than she was with her younger siblings. Michael never failed to make her laugh, he always acted like he was the oldest one of the two though there was eight years between them. Y/n was the first person he told when he got his orders from the Army, she hugged him as he cried. It’s not that he didn’t want to fight and help it was that he was terrified.
“No! No you’re lying.”
Helping her stand he took her home where her mom’s screams and cries could be heard from outside the home. Watching as mom and daughter cling together from the doorway Steve let a few tears fall.
Two days after finding out that her best friend turned fiancé and her sweet younger brother were killed Y/n found out she was pregnant. A few weeks later they buried Michael.
On the second of March 1945 Peggy arrived at Y/n’s apartment, eyes red and swollen. They held each other as they cried. Y/n gathered that Steve never got his letter to let him know he was going to be an uncle.
When Peggy noticed the small prodding bump her heart ached. She knew she had to keep the promise that she gave Steve, that she would look after Y/n. Steve had told Peggy that just before Bucky fell he told the blonde to look after his fiancée, the two best friend’s last thoughts were on their best friend and fiancée. Neither one knowing that she pregnant.
A month later Y/n and her family, Winnie and Rebecca were at the cemetery, she smiled sadly when she felt her baby kick for the first time when the preacher said James Buchanan Barnes, they watched as two empty coffins were put into the ground.
She knew that the baby she was growing inside of her would have been so loved and spoiled by its father and uncle Stevie, it broke her heart knowing that her unborn baby would never meet the two greatest men she had ever known.
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Five years passed after she lost three men closest to her. After she gave birth to a healthy beautiful baby girl that she named Hope Jamie Barnes, she moved out of the tiny little apartment she had and moved into a farm house that had acres of land.
Just because her Jamie wasn’t with her anymore didn’t mean she was going to give up on the life that he had planned for them. She still wore that metal nut, everyone thought it was strange but luckily for her they never asked about it. However it no longer sat on her finger but around her neck on a silver chain.
A wedding ring sat there now instead.
Two years after Hope was born her mom made her get married. “You’re twenty nine now Y/n you need a husband” her mom told her, reluctantly she agreed and married a man named Frank. At first Frank was okay, nice even but things changed only after a few months of marriage. It started with small things such as telling her what to wear, how to act. Then it turned nasty, the abuse was mental, verbal and physical.
Three years into their marriage she had become numb and use to it all. Became use to the women talking and giggling like school girls when they saw her in the store or on the streets, the same women who were sleeping with her husband. It didn’t bother her anymore that her husband was cheating on her, the more women he had to satisfy him the more he was away from her home, the less she got beaten and berated.
It didn’t even bother her that he had gotten one of his mistresses pregnant or when the mistress’s husband found out and beat Frank to within an inch of his life. In fact she smiled.
Y/n and Peggy’s friendship became non existent after Y/n got married and Peggy married Daniel Sousa, when Peggy and Daniel started dating Peggy had asked Y/n if she was wrong for it but Y/n told her that she deserved to be happy and if he gave that to her then she should have that happiness.
Peggy worried if Steve would have been mad, Y/n had to remind her that he wouldn’t have wanted her to live a life of loneliness.
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When Hope was five she was wise for her age, she knew Frank wasn’t her father, she knew her daddy had passed away when he protected the country from the bad guys. Hope enjoyed her nighttime stories where her mama would tell her all about her father, hearing about how funny, kind and loving her father was always made the little girl smile. One night Y/n showed Hope the few photographs she had of James, Hope giggled and pointed at her eyes and then at James’s “same mommy same”. It was true, Hope had the same colour eyes as Bucky and like Bucky’s eyes they changed lighter when she was happy or giggling, turned darker when she was sad or when she was poorly.
Every Sunday Y/n and Hope had a routine, they would go to the cemetery to put flowers down on the graves of James and Steve. They would sit on a blanket and eat the sandwiches that Y/n would take with them, they would sit, eat and talk for hours - depending on the weather. Hope would show the headstones all her drawings and tell them all about her schooling and friends, told them her favourite colour - the rainbow that’s her favourite colour.
Y/n knew that there was no bodies in the coffins but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t sit there with her daughter in her lap and tell the two empty graves that she loved and missed them. Every time.
It was still a tradition that they both did even as Y/n got older and weaker.
In 1970 her husband was killed, Franks brother Robert was arrested and charged with his murder. Robert found out that his wife was having an affair with his brother. Y/n went to see him in prison after Robert sent her a letter begging her to see him, he swore that he didn’t do it. That it was a man with a silver arm. Y/n believed him when he said he didn’t do it, he was with his sister, her husband and their children, along with Robert’s children. But she didn’t believe him about a man with a silver arm, that was a bit far fetched.
At Franks funeral Y/n stood there with Hope on her left side and the nine children he had with nine different women. She tried to comfort the children he had with the women he had cheated on her with, they allowed it until everyone left and it was just them standing at the grave. His oldest started laughing causing the others to join in, Hope looked at her mom with a raised eyebrow that reminded her so much of Bucky, she just shrugged.
They told Y/n that they were happy he was finally gone. Told her that they hated him and was glad he was dead.
It surprised her but they were at the age where they realised that their parents marriages broke up when their mom cheated on their dad, or when they saw Frank hit their mom. It was nine teenagers/young adults who knew that what the preacher was saying as the coffin was lowered in the ground that it was all lies, he wasn’t a good man, he wasn’t a good husband or father, he was everything they hated. He was everything the five boys had promised that they would never turn in to. He was everything the four girls promised that they would never end up with.
They all kept in touch throughout the years, it was nice. And through them years all nine of his offspring kept their promises.
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As the years went on Y/n became more and more proud of Hope and the woman she had become. Hope got married and had children, her first born son was named James, her second son was named Steve.
“M-mom there’s someone here to see you” Hope stuttered from the doorway.
“W-who i-is it darling?”
“I-he-hold on”
Hope appeared at the door with a nervous smile on her face, her fingers twisting together as a man walked slowly towards her. His eyes going to the woman and then to the man behind him, he was scared.
“Hope?”
“Mom-“
Y/n slowly turned to face the doorway, her eyes widening as she sees the ghost of her best friend towering over her daughter.
“S-Stevie? You’ve come to take me to Jamie?”
Steve frowned looking at the woman who was the last person on his mind before the plane crashed in to the water, his best friend who had aged yet her eyes remained the same. Then he looked at Hope confusion written on his face, she looked up at him and smiled sadly.
“Mom I’m just going to get you a drink.” Nodding her head to Steve and Sam to follow her she went into the kitchen. “She thinks your taking her to heaven to see my dad”
“Dad?”
“James? He’s my father”
Steve’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. When Hope answered the door telling him that she was Y/n’s daughter he assumed that she had married and had children, he did not expect the woman in front of him to be the daughter of his best friend who he watched fall to his death.
“What?”
“Bucky Barnes is my father…you’re my uncle, well that’s what my mom always called you.”
“Oh. Now I see it, it’s your eyes”
“Mom always said I had the same eyes as him” she laughed.
Steve goes to open his mouth when there’s a sound of a cane hitting the floor, all three turn to face the doorway where Y/n stood.
“Are you re-really alive and not just m-my imagination?”
“I’m really here Y/n/n”
“H-how?”
“When I crashed the plane-ow stop hitting me” he cries out when she hits him with her walking cane, Sam and Hope laugh.
“Still mad at you for crashing that plane”
“I’m sorry. I was frozen and they found me a few years ago” Steve finished his explanation. Y/n nodded and sat down, being ninety five years old her legs weren’t as strong as they once were.
“This is my daughter, she’s beautiful isn’t she?”
“She is, she’s got Bucky’s eyes”
“Yes she has. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Sam, he’s the one that helped me track you down”
“I-it’s nice to meet you Sam.” When Y/n reached out to shake Sam’s hand Steve noticed a glint of a necklace. He watched as her free hand went to the necklace and started lightly tugging on it, he wasn’t the only one.
“Mom? Mom your alright, your safe don’t worry” Hope says softly, moving closer slowly. Sam looked at Steve worriedly.
“I-I don’t-don’t let him hurt me anymore”
“Mom he’s dead, he can’t hurt you anymore I promise” Hope helped pull the necklace out, handing her the thing she knew her mom was trying to hold.
Steve’s breath get caught in his throat at seeing the metal nut Bucky gave her all those years ago.
“S-Steve? Your dead. Hope wh-who is he? I-it’s not Stevie, he’s dead”
“It’s okay mom, he’s a friend. Let’s get you back to bed okay?” Turning to Steve and Sam telling them she’d be back in a few, they both nod.
Waiting patiently in the kitchen Steve can hear Hope calm Y/n down, his heart breaking when Y/n asks for Jamie. When Hope comes downstairs she offers the two a drink, both declines politely.
“Mom keeps forgetting things, she’s been like this for a while now.”
“The thing on her necklace, what is it?” Though he knew he just couldn’t see it lasting this long or that she even kept it.
“My dad proposed to her with it, it’s a nut. She’s kept it on her chain ever since-well, she’s wore it since he gave it her”
“Did she ever marry? Have other kids?”
“Yes, he died in 1970 and no I’m her only child”
“I’m sor-“
“Don’t apologise, bastard deserved it”
After an hour or so the men take their leave, the blonde asking if he was able to come back and see Y/n again, Hope said yes.
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The year was now 2016, Y/n’s health declining as she was nearing one hundred. The doctors told Hope that it would be better to keep her in hospital for the rest of her time on earth, Hope told them that, that wasn’t going to happen. Y/n had told Hope that when she was going to die that she wanted to go when she was at home. No matter what.
Steve had showed up one day to talk to Hope, to tell her that her father was alive after all this time. Hope begged him not to tell Y/n. Y/n struggled to understand and come to terms with the fact that Steve was alive, she had grown so confused that she started to tug on her necklace. Hope didn’t want to imagine how her mom would react to the news that the love of her life was alive, not when she spent so long mourning him.
At first Steve was confused but understood at the same time. He told Hope that he and Bucky fought and the only way he could get him to snap out of whatever Hydra had done to him was by saying Y/ns name, Hope smiled at that. Hope asked Steve if he had told James all about her and how her mom was still alive, Steve said no but with her permission he would. And he did.
After seventy years of going without a father it was strange when she met Bucky for the first time, a man who didn’t look a day over thirty was her father when she looked like his mother, it was strange.
Bucky cried. Cried for never knowing Y/n was pregnant in the first place. Cried for never being there throughout Hope growing in her mother’s stomach. Cried for never being there for either one of them for nearly seventy years. Hugging his daughter for the first time ever Bucky crumbled.
Hope was very honest about hers and Y/n’s life, told Bucky how Y/n’s husband was a cheating abusive arsehole. Both Bucky and Steve clenched their fists at hearing that. Shocked when Hope told them that apparently a man with a silver arm had killed Frank, and because Bucky had his arm covered and gloves on Hope didn’t realise that it was her father that did it.
Bucky was open and honest about what had happened to him, expecting his daughter to look at him differently so when she threw her arms around him and cried he was shocked.
It took Bucky exactly twenty three minutes and fourteen seconds for him to ask when he could see Y/n. Having to think it over she agreed but on the condition that she was the one that would tell Y/n the truth.
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Telling her mom that the man she had still been in love with after all those years since she had lost him, that he was still alive was the hardest conversation she had to have with her mom. Y/n didn’t believe her, of course she didn’t she’s spent seventy years mourning him. Seventy years wishing she saw him again, hoping and praying that he would still love her the way she still loved him.
Hope told Y/n that she had met him, hugged him, laughed with him but she still didn’t believe her.
A week after telling Y/n that Bucky was still alive her health deteriorated. Hope had to tell Bucky and Steve that Y/n didn’t have long left. Bucky was determined to see his love for the last time.
James stood in front of the house that Y/n had made a home since she left Brooklyn, the two floored farm house stood proudly in front of acres of land, due to his enhanced senses he could smell the lingering smell of animal food and waste. Hope had told him all about the animals Y/n rescued over the years, told him that when she was seven they had three horses, cows and goats, that in recent years Y/n had been rescuing cats and dogs from the streets or abusive homes rehoming them to those she trusted. Bucky smiled at hearing that she had lived the life he wanted for the both of them, smiled at hearing that Y/n’s kindness and love for animals never stopped.
Checking his hair was fine for the umpteenth time in the two hours it took them to get there he turned to face Steve.
“You ready Buck?”
“Y-yeah” Steve knocks on the door and they both wait patiently for Hope to answer. 
“Hi, come on in-oh”
“T-they wanted to come, hope that’s okay” Bucky explained. Behind him and Steve stood the rest of the Avengers.
“We’ve heard all about your mom ever since blondie came out of ice, wanted to meet her” Tony spoke leaning in between the two super soldiers to hold his hand out.
“Oh right, come in.” Leading them all upstairs where Y/n was, Bucky’s nerves sky rocketed the closer he got to the bedroom. “You ready?” Hope asked.
“Yeah. She knows I’m here right?”
“She does, if it helps she’s nervous too”
Nodding his head he watched with a steady breath as his daughter - which he still found weird saying - twisted the door knob and opened the door.
Though older and frail Bucky thought she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. His eyes stayed on her face as he moved closer, with every step he took his heart started to beat slower.
“J-Jamie?”
Wetting his lips and gulping he nodded “hi Flower”
“Took you long enough to come and get me”
“I know my love b-but I’m here now”
“Are we going to see Stevie?”
“Stevie’s right here darling”
“Is my mama going to be there too?”
Frowning he looked back to Hope as she stands at the doorway with everyone behind her. Hope shook her head and mouthed “she thinks you’re taking her to heaven”.  His frown deepened, looking back at Y/n whose eyes didn’t move away from him.
“I’ve missed you Flower”
“I’ve missed you too Jamie. Ha-have you met Hope? She’s your daughter Jamie”
“I have met her, beautiful isn’t she?”
“She is. The best thing I’ve ever done”
“I’m so proud of you, you’ve raised our daughter amazingly”
“Sit down silly” sitting on bed next to her he took his gloves off and held both her hands when she reached for him. Y/n didn’t flinch when his silver hand touched her. “Don’t let Frank hurt Hope okay? Y-you have to promise me Jamie th-that you’ll lo-look after her”
“Doll he’s-I promise that no one will ever hurt her”
“Good. He’s mean. He hurts me Jamie”
“I know doll I know, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from him”
“Not your fa-wh-who are they Jamie?”
“They’re Stevies friends Flower”
Hope nudged Steve further into the room and nods to the others letting them know it’s okay for them to go in too. Steve says hello and introduces the team to her, each giving her a smile.
For three hours Steve and Y/n talked about growing up together and all the things they use to get up to, everyone laughed and asked Y/n questions about the two super soldiers, she answered them as best as she could sometimes she repeated herself or looked panicked when she saw strangers standing in her room.
Bucky though held her hand with the both of his, his eyes on her the whole time. Tracing over each line with his eyes, his heart clenching when he saw the unmistakable sight of a scar that ran down the side of her face.
His breath got caught in his throat when she took out the metal nut around the necklace. “Y-you kept it?” He asked interrupting when Sam was talking about.
“My Jamie gave it me during the war, he proposed to me” she smiled “you look like him”
“Do I?”
“Yes, but my Jamie was more handsome”
“Was he now?”
“Oh yes-“ a yawn cuts her off. Hope tells everyone that it was best if they left now so she could get some rest, and they do. Each say their goodbyes and waits for Steve and Bucky downstairs.
“We’ll come and see you tomorrow okay?” Steve says after he pulls away from giving her a hug and a kiss to her forehead. Y/n nods and smiles. “I’ll wait for downstairs Buck”
Bucky nods, then looks at Hope who understands without being verbally told that Bucky wanted a few minutes alone, she follows behind Steve.
“I have always loved you, you know? I still love you. I’m sorry that I didn’t come home to you when I promised you over and over that I would, I’m sorry I let you down Flower”
“Y-you didn’t let me down Jamie, never.”
Bucky smiles softly at her, watching as her eyes start to droop. “I’ll let you get some rest my love. I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise”
“O-okay Jamie. S-see you tom-tomorrow” Giving her a kiss to her forehead he stands and moves to the door, taking one last look at his first and only love.
“Thank you for the best years of my life”
He says before shutting the door and heads slowly down the stairs.
After Hope says her goodbyes and gives her dad a hug she busies herself cleaning the kitchen, she smiles happily to herself seeing her parents together something she had always wanted to experience.
She doesn’t know that her mom is in her bed with her hand wrapped around the piece of metal that she had wore and cherished from the moment James gave it her, she doesn’t know her mom is thinking about meeting her Jamie again.
She doesn’t know that her mom takes her last breath with a small smile on her lips.
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A year after loosing the love of his life Bucky had to bury his only daughter, heart attack took her. In 2023 Tony had perfected his father’s Time Machine with the help from Bruce. Steve was going to be returning the stones, they all gathered together in the empty space and watched as Steve vanished.
“4…3…2…1” Bruce counted down for Steve’s arrival.
Once the smoke cleared Bucky had his eyes down as he knew that Steve wasn’t going to be coming back, he knew he was going to go back to live a life with Peggy. His head snapped up when he heard the voice that he always heard in his sleep.
There stood on the platform was Steve, Y/n and a two year old Hope.
“Fl-Flower”
“You died Jamie. You promised me you would be safe but-“
Bucky cuts her off by pressing his lips against hers, holding both of his flowers tightly.
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One month after Steve brought Y/n and Hope to the future, Bucky and Y/n got married. A month after that she finds out that baby Barnes number two would be arriving.
“I love you Flower”
“I love you Jamie”
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Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77
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lavenderpanic · 1 year
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It's so insane because every time I watch CATWS I'm like... Steve Rogers would literally prefer to die at Bucky's hands than go on living without him. Steve would rather die than admit that he really truly lost Bucky. He wants to look into Bucky's eyes as Bucky kills him because at the very least, it's Bucky. He knows for certain he's gonna spend his final moments with Bucky, whether that's a peaceful death decades from now, hand in hand, or right now, as Bucky beats him lifeless.
3K notes · View notes
chelseeebe · 2 months
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moth to a flame
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18+. mdni. smut. king!steve x kinda alt fem!reader. mentions of alcohol and drugs throughout. no ud so steve never gets the opportunity to develop from his jackass high school self. both he and tommy are kinda mean to poor old reader but he makes up for it in the end i promise.
a/n: there's something about lil stevie at the moment.. i think it's because i neglected him for so long that now i'm overcompensating lol. more eddie is coming tho i swear<3 so in my head r is like alt though descriptions don't really go past anything vague.
‎⋆⭒˚。⋆
steve wasn’t really ever that choosy with his women. he didn’t have to be. 
they’d throw themselves at him, from the start of high school right through to college. by some grace of god, meaning his dad and his endless wallet, he’d made it into the university of chicago. 
partying his way through his studies with a plethora of women and friends who really only saw him as an open wallet. 
that’s where he’d met you. 
you weren’t a regular, that’s for sure. 
your hair dyed, clothes torn purposely and thick, dark rings of black around your eyes. 
he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you all night. watching as you’d ducked outside just after midnight, deciding to follow you, muttering something about a cigarette to tommy without a second thought. 
he’d found you around the empty side of the house smoking and stuck his tongue down your throat. 
with permission, of course. 
he’d seen you in there with the guy with the long hair, steve recognised him as someone he bought weed off occasionally. “he your boyfriend?”
relief washing over him when you’d shook your head no, “i can’t get you a discount if that’s what you’re asking.”
his shoulder had bumped against the hard brick in an attempt to nonchalantly lean against it, “noo.. i was just hoping you were single.” 
your smile grows though steve didn’t pick up on the sarcastic twang about it until after, “is that right?” 
“you don’t believe me?” 
“hmm not really,” stubbing the cigarette out on the side of the house. 
“but you are single, right?” deploying that trademark harrington grin, ever unfailing in his entire career. 
“i am.” 
“so why don’t you wanna make out with me?” reverse psychology, another never faltering technique. 
your eyes had narrowed, “i didn’t say that,” he’d known he was in from then on out, putty in his hands just the way he’d hoped. 
and thus, birthed this. whatever this is. 
-
steve waits rather impatiently for the party to die down enough to sneak out of here and get you into the back of his bmw. he hadn’t drank, swerving tommy’s attempts at getting him to drink with some vague, mumbly excuse. 
your meetings weren’t exactly tasteful, usually entailing some dark corner of the town and the leather of his backseat. 
you don’t speak outside of this, maybe a quick glance if he ever saw you outside of the parties but never anything substantial. 
but you’d gotten wise to his signals, you were usually found outside with that long-haired boy smoking which meant he had also began to get wise. 
steve would drop a cup and glance quickly in your direction or he’d loudly say his goodbyes before slipping out of the door. earning a groan or a roll of the eyes from your friend. 
steve’s grateful though, because he knows you’ll only be a few minutes behind. shuffling down the street to his beemer. 
tonight, you’d taken longer than usual. sighing as you slid into the passenger seat, steve’s gaze immediately falling to your chest, hungry as ever. 
“what’s wrong?” he asks, putting the car into drive before anyone had the opportunity to catch you. 
you shake your head, buckling in as the car speeds off, “it’s nothing,” settling yourself in the seat. 
“didn’t sound like nothing,” he’s not sure why he’s prying so much, you didn’t owe him any explanation. 
“it’s just..” debating whether to divulge, “eddie feels the need to tell me how much he hates you, every single time. it’s boring, you know?” 
oh. 
steve wasn’t quite expecting that. 
sure, he wasn’t the most likeable person ever but hate? 
“right,” he nods, unsure of where to go from here, “well.. i’m sure if he knew me, he’d think differently,” though even steve doesn’t quite believe that himself.
you hum in response, staring out at the disappearing road ahead. 
the car pulls in to it’s usual saturday night spot, overlooking the city on some disused street. quiet and calm but not for long. 
it’s the same foolproof routine every single week, you’ll sit and talk for a minute until one or the other gets fed up and pulls the other into the backseat. 
this week it takes a little longer for either of you to crack. you’re still pissed off by whatever eddie had said and he was desperate to try and break through your hardened exterior. 
he didn’t want to be hated by anyone, let alone your friends. 
perhaps it was fear. scared of eddie revealing the truth about your little rendezvous’ or maybe he really did want to know more about you. he’d been inside of you more than he’d ever asked about your day. 
steve had once thought the only people that had tattoos were freaks and criminals, but he doesn’t suppose you’re either of the two. 
he loves the way they look on your skin, adorning your arms like they were there before you were born. 
“why’d you get that one?” pointing to the flower on your wrist. 
you tut, “d’you wanna talk about my tattoos or d’you wanna have sex?” becoming annoyed with his attempts to close the bridge between you. 
“why not both?” he didn’t know a thing about you besides your name and how hard you liked his palm against your ass. maybe you really were a freak. 
“because you don’t care, not really,” shrugging at him from the passenger seat, “you don’t have to pretend y’know?”
“i’m not pretending,” steve frowns, “i wanna know about your tattoos and i wanna have sex with you, is that crazy?” 
you chuckle, turning in your seat to face him, “a little, yeah. i don’t believe that steve harrington cares about my tattoos at all.” 
fuck, he wishes this was normal, that you were normal and he could just take you out like he would any other girl. 
he doesn’t have a reply, sighing quietly to himself instead. 
your hand reaches over, cupping his chin in your palm and gently tilting it upward til he meets your eye again, “so.. sex?” 
steve nods, blinking rapidly as you shift over into his lap. if you weren’t going to indulge him then the least he could do was give you what you wanted. 
you keep your hand firmly on his chin, locking your lips as your hips move forward, grinding against his jeans, his hands coming to meet your waist. 
frantic in the way he grabs at your skin, needing you closer than his car allowed. 
what had really shocked him most about you, was the fact that your nipples were pierced. he’d never seen it before, not in real life anyway. but now he couldn’t imagine ever having another boob in his mouth that didn’t taste slightly of metal. 
he claws at your shirt, yanking it higher for access to your chest, pulling your bra down enough to reveal your tit, palming at the flesh before locking his lips around the sensitive skin. 
your skirt ends up above your waist, his hands roaming the fleshy area, grinding down against his stiff cock with an insatiable hunger. rutting until you’re moaning into the cramped car, his tongue still swirling around your nipple. 
“c’mon,” instructing him breathlessly, “need you now stevie,” your hands firm on his shoulders, praying he won’t make you wait any longer. 
he nods, letting your breast fall from his lips, gripping your waist to allow himself the space to wiggle his jeans down enough, his boxers following closely. your eyes roll at the sight of his cock springing out, already glistening with pre-cum from your incessant rutting. 
you’re already raring to go, sodden panties held to the side as he lines his tip with your soaked entrance, gazing up at you with wondrous lust. 
“fuck,” whispering harshly when you lower yourself onto him, his fingers leaving heavy marks on your hips. 
you take a moment to adjust, biting down onto your lip as your eyes reopen, meeting his before you begin moving. slow at first, thick thighs enveloping his waist. he wants to gnaw on them, leave purple markings all along the doughy skin. 
steve knows he has a big cock, he’s not stupid. it had been a thing to marvel throughout high school, in locker rooms and after hooking up with whoever. everyone had known. 
it doesn’t seem to phase you, bouncing up and down as your skin slaps together. he’s always found it hot, that two bodies could make such a sexy sound but with you it’s better. 
“that’s it,” you whine, melodically breathing in time with your body bouncing. 
your hand creeps away from his shoulder, hanging loosely around his neck, too scared to place any real pressure until he nods enthusiastically, placing a harsh hand to your ass, a clear cut green flag. 
you practically growl in response, tightening your grip on his neck, the seats of his car squeak and groan underneath your bodies as the car rocks on the wheels. 
keeping one hand on your ass and the other now nestling between your thighs, fingers perched on your soft stomach as his thumb finds your clit. 
“oh fuck,” you whine, enthusiastically moving up and down, squeezing his neck just enough to make his eyes roll back. 
steve tightens his grip on your ass, losing grip of his throat to slam your palm against the foggy window when his hips thrust upward, moving with yours in perfect harmony. 
he wants to swallow you whole, entranced by the sheer pleasure on your face, eyelashes fluttering and your lips parted to allow your melodic mewls to flow freely. 
“oh honey,” he moans, slamming into your dripping cunt. an insatiable urge to stay inside of you forever, “fucking.. shit, you feel so fucking good,” eye contact intensely heavy, dripping in pure unadulterated lust. “d-do that again,” referring to your palm around his neck. 
“you like that? hmm?” leaving steve to hold you upright, enveloping his jugular with a comfortable squeeze. 
no one had ever touched him like that, nor had he ever thought to ask anyone to touch him like that. sex had been a mostly placid affair before he met you, a couple positions if he was feeling crazy but nothing compared to the lewd shit you got up to. 
he can’t speak, his balls slapping against your thighs in a maniacal rhythm, relishing the feel of your cunt dripping down his cock onto his boxers. 
the car is stuffy, suffocating almost. the fluidity of your two bodies moving against each other only makes it worse. your skin sticks to his, chest clammy and slick. steve loves it, the messiness, the sheer animalistic need for one another. 
he grunts into the air, weaving his fingers through your untamed hair, a palm flat to your cheek as he finds your lips in a fumbling haze. 
your fingers leave his neck to trail down his chest, clawing at his shirt, desperately rutting your hips as you chase your orgasm. it all becomes sloppy when you begin to pant into his mouth, barely able to keep up the rhythm. 
“oh god,” whimpering between his parted lips, “fuck,” your thighs begin to shake, trembling uncontrollably as steve continues to thrust upwards, unrelenting though he’s teetering over the edge himself. 
your lips graze against his chin, mewling loudly while you come undone. a trembling mess, relying on his arms to keep your body upright. 
he can’t take anymore, your cunt squeezing and clenching around him, driving him completely insane. there's no way in hell that he could ever possibly imagine having sex with anyone else for the rest of his measly life.
“are you cumming?” you ask, holding onto the back of his clammy neck with a panicked look in your eye. 
steve nods quickly, using the last of his energy to thrust upwards one final time, uncaring of the consequences. or quite honestly not even considering what cumming inside of you could mean.
his hips stutter, the back of his head hitting the headrest as he grunts and groans, filthy words filling the warm car. 
he’s still inside of you when you look down, only allowing him a short moment to gather himself before you frown, “steve,” using your finger to flick his ear. 
“shit,” the threat of a child dawns on him, realising how much he shouldn’t have done that, “i’ll pay for.. whatever you need, fuck- i’m sorry,” keeping a firm hand on your waist, pleading for forgiveness. 
if you could feel what he felt, he thinks you’d understand. 
“you’re so lucky i’m on birth control.. idiot,” climbing off of him to rest on his thighs instead, readjusting your underwear as his release threatens to leak out. 
steve clears his throat, a little embarrassed to have lost all self control over your pussy. he's never been overly enthusiastic about the thought of having children but for a split second there, he had truly contemplated how bad it could be.
clearing the awkward silence with a quiet chuckle, raising his chin to meet your gaze, "sorry."
your glossy lips pout, gaze scanning his face before you hum, "you're forgiven."
-
tommy had dragged him out despite it being a tuesday night, knowing full well he’d be skipping his 9am class tomorrow. he had been really trying to make more of an effort with school lately.
you'd made a passing comment, something you'd definitely have forgotten by now but steve hadn't quite been able to shake it.
your dad's money won't last forever, you know?
it wasn't incorrect by any means, he just hadn't expected the wake up call to come from you.
obviously tommy hadn't got the memo, egging him on to ditch the books to get plastered.
the bar is packed for a weekday evening although steve recognises no one, mostly older folk with a lot of tattoos, eyeing steve’s nervous exterior. 
“get me a beer, i need a piss,” tommy hollers into his ear before disappearing off to the bathroom. ever the charming gentleman. 
steve goes stiff, wondering if he’d seen a ghost. 
you’d materialised behind the bar, looking disinterested in whatever the man in front was jabbering about. 
why are you here? 
he’s never asked what you do for work, never felt the need to. though he wishes he’d asked now. there’s no chance he can collect himself enough to speak to you. 
what if you gave it all away? what if tommy saw? oh fuck. 
steve’s never had a panic attack before but he feels mighty close now. 
he wipes his palms indiscreetly down his jeans, attempting to slow his breathing before he reaches the bar. why did tommy have to be such a jackass? they could’ve been at home tonight. he wouldn’t be having a fucking heart attack if they were. 
the person before him clears off, leaving a space for him to quietly shuffle into. you turn around, eyes locking with his but only letting the corner of your mouth twitch a tiny inch. 
your tongue clicks against your teeth, “what can i get ya?” playing along just as he’d hoped. 
“two.. uh, two uhm, coors.. please,” dropping his gaze as he pleads with god to let the world swallow him up.  
clearing your throat before getting the bottles from the fridge, sliding them across the bar with a sigh, “didn’t think this would be your scene to be honest,” stifling your laugh as the other patrons eye his sweater and too-tight jeans. 
steve gets it. 
the bar was crawling with people with piercings, ripped clothes and an overall disdain for the status quo. 
tommy fit in, he was loud and sweary just as they were but steve, he stuck out like a sore thumb. 
“it’s not.. really, tommy said it was cool.. i dunno,” he hated the fumbling mess you made him, he couldn’t ever understand it. 
you stare back at the disaster you’d created, running your tongue along your top teeth before tapping the bar, “seven bucks, please,” palm outstretched beside him. 
he shoves a ten into your hand, “keep the change,” grabbing the bottles before elbowing his way back to tommy. 
“what the hell took you so long?” 
“there was a line, dumbass,” rolling his eyes, passing off one of the bottles to his friend. 
“don’t lie,” tommy’s elbow jabs steve harshly in the ribs, “i saw you talking to that girl,” steve freezes, terrified of what tommy might say next.  “she’s hot,” tommy leers, “y’know in like a freak sorta way,” laughing obnoxiously loud for such a small bar. “you at least get her number?”
he just glares back, unsure of whether tommy knows more than he’s letting on or just being his usual ignorant self. 
“i could fuck the freak outta’ her, trust me,” the drunk continues, only serving to anger steve further. he didn’t want anyone to speak about you like that, much less tommy fucking hagan. 
“don’t say shit like that,” steve scolds, like he’s some petulant child who needs punishment. 
“what? like you care,” blowing raspberries with his mouth, “c’mon, loads of weird broads in here i can help instead,” walking off into the crowd with a mission. 
he glances over at you smiling with some customer, his stomach churning with unfathomable jealousy. he had no right to feel that way, in fact, he probably deserved it.
-
tommy’s in one of his unbearable moods again, bouncing around the party, antagonising any and every one who even attempts to get him to stop. 
steve doesn’t really care, nervously eyeing the door, confused by your absence. you hadn’t told him you were coming, but then you also hadn’t told him that you weren’t coming. 
had he done something wrong? the last time you’d spoken was when he and tommy had crashed your shift, only muttering a few nervous words about beer. he’s pathetic. you’d made him pathetic. 
an arm latches around his shoulder harshly, almost knocking the drink from his hand, “stop watching the door, she’s not coming,” tommy slurs, laughing cruelly in his face. 
“what?” steve’s body tenses, trying to shake off the drunkard. 
“your little girlfriend,” clarifying exactly what steve had thought he was saying. tommy clocks steve’s gawping mouth, his heightened breaths, “what?” chuckling loudly, “you think i don’t know? everyone fucking knows dude, you can cut the shit.”
he wriggles free from his grasp, “the fuck are you talking about?” it’s not as if playing dumb would help him now but he’d at least give it a shot. 
“fuck off man,” tommy shoves him backwards, “that’s why you’re acting like a little pussy at the moment,” spitting in his face, belligerent and arrogant, “steve fucks the weird girl and now he pretends to give a fuck about feelings and shit,” drawing the attention of the entire party. 
if it really had been that obvious, they’d all already know about it anyway. 
“you’re an asshole, you know that right?” steve fumes, shoving tommy back into the counter before grabbing the container of vodka behind, walking off into the party with his head held high. 
people eye him as he goes, sure they all knew. they’d all heard what tommy was screaming about, hell, they’d probably seen the two of you sneaking about for months. 
why did he care so? why didn’t he care more? 
-
steve’s hopeless, completely and utterly tragic. 
deserting the party after an hour of his ‘friends’ dancing around him and girls completely dodging his advances. 
he didn’t want them, not really. he just needed to fill a you shaped hole. 
the only place his intoxicated brain can conjure up to go is your house. his feet carrying him out of the door and across the large campus without much thought to it. 
it’s only when he reaches the small row of houses that he realises where he is. looking up at the quaint house he’d dropped you off at tens of times. 
he can’t go in, can’t go back to the party either. 
stuck between a rock and a hard place because no matter what, he’d come off pretty badly. 
“what’re you doing?” a girl he’s never seen before speaks from the shadows, a certain look of disgust on her features. 
steve stops his aimless pacing, realising just how weird he looked. how could he ever begin to explain himself? 
the girl i have sex with sometimes lives here and i’m here because my best friend found out about it and i don’t really know how to feel about that. 
though he opts for something a little easier to digest, “i’m just.. walking.”
the girl narrows her eyes, “i know who you are, steve harrington,” full disgust in her voice, “i don’t know if she’s home,” putting her key into the door. 
of course. the roommate you’d mentioned. robin or something like that. he’s not sure why he hadn’t thought of it. 
“can you.. can you check?” relieved to not have been the one knocking on the door. 
“well duh,” she scowls, opening the door and disappearing into the hall. 
thankfully, she doesn’t reemerge. unsure of how much he could take tonight without bursting into tears. 
you do though, peeking out of the door with a small frown, opening the door wider when you see his frame lingering. 
“steve?” confusion echoing, “what the hell are you doing here?” 
“hey,” steve waves, watching his fingers wiggle and immediately regretting it. the realisation creeping in that he was lurking around your house like a complete weirdo. 
“you’re drunk,” you state plainly, opening the door wider to reveal your heart-adorned pyjama shorts and fuzzy slippers. 
his eyes fall immediately, still desperate to suffocate himself between your thighs. 
“yup,” hiccuping through the dark. 
you sigh, you do that a lot when you’re talking to him, “jesus christ.. come in,” ushering him inside. 
he stumbles through the door, hazy eyes looking at your house, the decorations that littered the place. 
it’s so.. you. 
different and spunky, a guitar leant against the couch, banners and posters and pictures of you and your friends beaming plaster the walls. he can’t help but think about how much his mother would detest it all. wouldn’t fit her cookie-cutter world view, neither would you, really. 
is that why he liked you?
some repressed act of defiance against his mother? 
no, no he really doesn’t think so. 
“okay,” your hand finds his back, “upstairs now,” flashing a look to robin that he can’t distinguish between confusion and maybe slight fear. 
steve lets you guide him, appreciating the gentle hand, only wishing it hadn’t taken half a quart of vodka to get him here into your room. 
he flops onto the bed with a sigh, still too intoxicated to feel any real shame yet though he’s sure it’ll inevitably sneak in at some point. 
“what’re you doing?” pity addling your voice as you come to sit on the bed, desperate to not let his eyes trail down to your legs. 
“i wanted to see you,” murmuring his words, “you didn’t come tonight.. i missed you,” letting the spirit speak for him. 
you stare at him for a second, figuring out how to approach his fragile state, “didn’t think you’d want me there after the bar.” 
“why wouldn’t i?” 
you scoff, “you couldn’t even look me in the eye,” reinvigorating that twinge of guilt in his chest, “you were terrified of tommy finding out you even knew me,” you must really pity him. letting him into your house after he’d acted like you simply didn’t exist just a few weeks ago. 
“tommy knows anyway.. none of it even mattered,” steve sighs, rubbing his temple as the headache kicks in. 
“i know, steve,” offering little remorse. your eyes roll back, sighing softly, “he came by the bar a few days ago, he was drunk, trying to.. it doesn’t matter. i know he knows, i don’t really care,” shrugging as if you couldn’t understand why he did. 
maybe rather selfishly steve had assumed that you were also somewhat ashamed of this arrangement. it hadn’t occurred to him that only he felt so pathetically guilty and oddly protective over your relationship. 
he wanted you to himself and at the same time wanted absolutely no one to know about it. 
“but i care,” it sounding even worse out loud than it did in his head. 
yet he means it. he just can’t really understand why. 
your eyes lower, shifting uncomfortably on your bed as your smile grows sadder, “you don’t want anyone to know that you fuck the freak, right?” a glum, melancholic tone to your words that makes his heart ache. 
“yes- no, i don’t really know,” shoulders slumping, giving up all hope of ever understanding the things he was feeling. 
your lips purse, the mattress dipping as you stand, unwilling to give any more energy to the conversation. “why don’t you sleep it off here?” still refusing to re-meet his eye, “i’ll take the couch, alright? you just.. get some sleep,” slinking off to the door before he can protest. 
“wai-,” but you’re gone.  
left on his own in your room. 
he can’t help but think that you should be here too, the first time he’d gathered enough courage to come to your house and he’d pissed you off that badly, you had to sleep on the couch. 
all he wants is for this to be normal. to take you out like he did the other girls, show you off to his friends and be proud of it too. 
steve wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want that, but he wanted to at least tell you.
screw tommy hagan and anyone else that had anything to say about it. 
he stumbles out of your bedroom, trying to remember which way to go to reach the steep stairs. god he hopes robin isn't down there with you. they'd interacted for no more than five minutes and yet he could already sense her general distaste for him.
the floorboards creak under his weight, dragging his uncoordinated feet down until he hits the floor with a thud, missing the last few steps completely.
your head pokes out of the closed door, with what he hopes is worry on your face. "what the fuck? are you okay?" rushing over to his crumpled body. this would all be highly entertaining if he weren't in the midst of an identity crisis.
"i'm good, i'm okay," clinging onto your arm. rather than standing to get to your level, he decides that dragging you down onto the floor with him is the best way to confess. ignoring your shrieks of complaint as you land harshly on his lap.
"what are you doing?" unable to hold back the maniacal cackle any longer.
"i'm trying to tell you something," steve mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours in hopes the words would somehow telepathically absorb through your skin.
they don't, obviously. because that's not how this works.
"i think that i," he hiccups,, sliding his hand down your arm to grasp your hand, "i think i really, really like you," stammering through his half-assed confession. on further thought, he probably should've waited until morning before deciding to unleash this unto you. "and i think that i've been an asshole to you," swallowing the gargantuan lump in his throat, "and i want to- only if you want to," earnestly gazing into your eyes, his thumb tracing your soft knuckle.
"want to what, steve?"
"i want to be with you, like.. dating or- or your boyfriend," hoping that now you’d understand his stammering, incoherent words.
your face displays something he can’t place, twisting the knife in his chest completely to only ease up when your lips twitch, “i think you’re drunk,” brushing off his confession.
steve wants to scream, he’d laid himself bare for you and while he probably didn’t deserve to call you his girlfriend, he also didn’t deserve to never get the chance to ask.
“i am,” admitting to his sins, “but i mean it,” nodding his head against yours, putting your hand to his chest, “i want it, i want you.”
your lips purse, he hates it when you do that. still unable to get through that mysterious shell you’re clinging onto, leaving him to try and guess what you’re thinking. most girls were fairly obvious in the way they treated steve. either fawning over him or they’d argue until he’d hate it and ghost them.
“even if everyone knows?” slowly opening up to the idea of you two. or at least he hopes so.
“especially if everyone knows.”
it’s a stark contrast from the embarrassingly nervous wreck he was at the bar, too terrified to even look you in the eye. he’d decided that it just wasn’t him. you deserved better and steve couldn’t stand to watch anyone other than himself give you that.
“..okay,” you blink, lashes brushing against his skin as they flutter, “but i’m gonna ask you again in the morning,” narrowing your eyes, ever the voice of caution.
steve just grins, morning couldn’t come soon enough if that was all it’d take to get you to believe him.
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chaptersleftunwritten · 2 months
Text
Strawberry Fields Forever
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Blurb: You go on a picnic date with some friends, not expecting to rile Eddie up.
Pairing: Perv!Eddie Munson x Friendly!Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ This is basically smut with a tiny bit of plot, cursing/swearing, some light mentions of alcohol, corruption kink, praising, exhibitionism, oral (f & m receiving), oral fixation, choking, fingering, teasing.
-
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The sun flushed the earth with an unwavering heatwave and everyone in Hawkins was struggling to keep cool during this scorcher of a summer. There was no hiding from it. The humidity even penetrated the shade- no where was safe.
Naturally you seek out the forest, travelling along a trail with Steve, Nancy, Robin, Eddie and some of the younger bunch who had begged to come alone. They wanted to go swimming in Lover’s Lake and you wanted to have a picnic next to the water.
“Fuck me,” Eddie groans, dragging his feet behind you, “Can’t we just stay in here? It must be hotter than Hell out there.” In a huff, Eddie shrugs off his denim jacket, exposing his tatted arms as he slings the coat over his shoulder. He wore a black t-shirt, of all colours he chose black, no wonder he was melting into a puddle.
Steve wipes at his sweaty forehead with his forearm, his long mousy brown hair sticking to his sun kissed skin, “Eddie has a point, I’m sweating my balls off here.” Nancy snorts a laugh, her fingers interlocked around Steve’s bicep.
Robin marches in front of you, on a mission to try and keep up with the others children whom had snuck off into the distance, squealing and revelling in the great outdoors. Robin evidently being fearful that they were going to run off or worse- disappear.
“C’mon guys, it’s not so bad! Maybe you should have worn more appropriate clothes,” Your dig is aimed at Eddie and he rolls his eyes, panting in response. He is clearly hating how his hair seems to be gluing itself to his neck.
“I’ll take my shirt off if you pay me,” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, his lips baring a wolfish grin, “This ain’t a free show, sweetheart.” He fans at his face, his flirtatious attempt quickly evaporating with his rising body temperature.
You take a hair tie from your wrist, handing it to Eddie, “You’ll be a lot cooler if you tie up that nest of yours.”
He gapes at you, offended, “Wow…” he drags out the word, “And here I was thinking that we were finally getting along.” You giggle at him before continuing your pursuit further, trying to catch up with the two love birds who had somehow overtaken you.
“It’s not long now, only a little further.” You call back to Eddie who is slugging behind you. Usually Eddie loved being outdoors, but in this heat? He would rather be dead.
The only thing keeping Eddie alive at the moment was the view he had of you from behind. Your ass is clad in the cutest pair of light denim shorts he had ever seen, hugging your thighs and body perfectly. You wore a red checkered blouse on top that slipped effortlessly from your shoulders, exposing the mounds of your breasts to him every so often. He was already fighting for his life against an erection.
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So when the pale yellow and pink picnic blanket was set down onto the unnervingly fried grass and Eddie watched you unload the weaved basket he couldn’t help but notice when your eyes light up at the sight of a massive bowl of strawberries.
“My favourite!” You squeal happily, flashing the bowl to Eddie he chuckles heartily, his legs crossing over one another as he lays back, propped up on one elbow.
“Strawbs are good, I guess.” His shoulders shrug.
“You guess? They are the superior fruit, Ed’s!” This was a debate you were willing to fight until your dying breath. You would die on this hill.
Eddie plucks one from the bowl, examining the red fruit before he pushes the whole thing into his mouth, taking a moment to chew before swallowing.
“Y’know, I’ve always thought strawberries were much better with a little bit of cream…” Eddie’s tongue dances out onto his lips, licking them clean of any juices that may have escaped.
He doesn’t mean for it to sound so dirty, but when you don’t register it that way Eddie sees this as an opportunity; to make this into a fun little game where he is a perverted fuck and you are absolutely oblivious to it all.
“Hmm,” you hum in response, not batting an eyelash to Eddie’s cream comment as you push a strawberry between your lips, biting on the pointed end of it softly- savouring the flavour.
Glancing around you see nearby on the blanket Steve has his tongue wedged down Nancy’s throat. She’s nearly choking on it as they sloppily dish out kisses. Talk about no shame..
Robin is on life guard duty- or so she says. In reality, she just wants to do cannonballs into the water with the kids, splashing them and fighting with them. Jokingly pushing Dustin’s head beneath the water whilst Mike tries to do the same to Will.
Dustin emerges, crying attempted murder and you laugh hysterically, shaking your head proudly at their free spirits.
“Are you thinking of going in the water?” You flick your attention back to Eddie and he can’t help himself from staring as you wrap your lips coyly around a massive strawberry. Your eyes peeking innocently up at him has his cock threatening to burst in his jeans and the thought of the strawberry being replaced by his thick manhood leaves him feeling dizzy.
“Possibly,” he gulps, his crossed legs becoming more tightly acquainted, “You?” He cracks open a can of beer, taking a light swing to cleanse his drying throat.
You nod, looking between the lake and Eddie, “I might- it looks like they are having so much fun.” You sigh, feeling the most relaxed you have a in a while. It’s not as hot anymore now that you have sat down.
“You should.”
‘Please!’ Eddie thinks to himself. He doesn’t know why, but you have him totally bewitched. His hungry gaze never leaving your mouth as dark pink juice stains your lips. You slurp to try and prevent it from spilling all over you, the pad of your thumb swiping quickly at the leaky corners of your mouth.
Eddie thinks he might combust into flames right there and then, biting his tongue harshly to try and keep a groan lodged in his throat- can he taste blood?
“Do I have something on my face Ed’s?” You ask after feeling his eyes on you for a prolonged period of time, your fingers tips tracing your cheeks gently.
Eddie shakes his head, “No, love. Not a single drop touched your chin.” His voice is low, nearly a growl as it leaves his mouth.
From his side Eddie can sense Steve’s amused smirk on him. You might have been unknowing to Eddie’s game, but Steve knew exactly what the ‘freak’ was up to. It relieved him to see Eddie finally trying to shoot his shot with you- it had only taken him a year and a half.
“You would tell me, right?” You giggle, scooting closer to his lanky frame, “Promise?”
“Promise.” He tucks a rogue strand of your hair behind your ear and heat unrelated to the sun prickles at your cheeks, causing you to advert your gaze.
Eddie almost coos aloud at how adorable you are. He can guess that you’ll taste even more sugary than the fruit you’re sucking on, “Can I…” He picks up another strawberry, bringing it to your mouth. You hold eye contact with him as he swirls the tip of the fruit across the plumpness of your lips, allowing the lowest groan to emit from his throat.
“Open wider,” His demand comes out as a bark and you slacken your jaw, your mouth gaping open wider for him to slot the strawberry inside. Eddie’s own jaw laid slack, his soft eyes on you unabashedly, “Does it taste good, princess?”
You nod, your tongue slick with juice from the strawberry. It wasn’t foreign for Eddie to call you sweet pet names, but something inside of you stirs at his voice. Sure you thought Eddie was attractive, often times you’d fantasies over him… but it hadn’t ever gotten this intense in real life.
You’d take every compliment from him with a grain of salt, but with the way his darkened eyes are staring at you now, it leads you to believe that something may be upon the horizon.
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“What’d you say?” Eddie’s eyebrows knit together, his eyelids narrowing at you distastefully.
“Uhm…” it takes a moment for the gears inside of your head to turn, “Thank you?” It is more of a question rather than a response, luckily Eddie seems satisfied nonetheless.
“Exactly,” He grins at you dirtily, “Don’t go forgetting your manners now, babe. I know you’re a good girl.”
An inaudible sound leaves your windpipe as you try to contain the feverish blush that has claimed your face as its own. Your heart is quick inside of your chest and you can’t ignore the fluttering of your stomach and the pulse between your thighs. No one had ever made you feel like this before. No one was crazy enough to speak this filthy to you in person. So blatant and forward.
Just before Eddie can say anything more, water hits you both. So lost in your own world you had forgotten about your friends who you had came here with.
“Are you guys just going to sit there or what?!” Robin exclaims in a high pitched tone, visibly vexed at your unwillingness to join in.
Steve and Nancy were stripping down to their underwear, something that didn’t phase you in the slightest. You look to Eddie for some sort of guidance and he shrugs his shoulders, leaving the choice to you.
“I’m happy here! Sorry- love you though!” You announce loudly and Robin rolls her eyes, shouting back that she loved you too before she was swimming off. It seemed like the group were venturing further down stream, leaving you and Eddie totally invisible to them.
“Good choice,” He purrs into your ear, making you jump slightly startled at his close proximity.
“I don’t mind spending time alone with you, Eddie.” You reply honestly and Eddie toys with a piece of your hair in his fingers, twirling and twisting it.
He hums, intrigued, “Is that so?” Eddie knew he was pushing you, but fuck, was it fun.
You suck on your bottom lip, teeth nibbling at the skin as you nod your head, “You make me feel.. happy.” The words come out as a low mumble, your finger tips playing with the hem of your shorts as you try to busy your nervous hands.
Eddie rumbles a chuckle, “I know a few other ways to make you feel ‘happy’…” You are desperate to avoid his cocoa coloured orbs, but Eddie isn’t having none of it as he gasps your chin sternly with his fingers, pulling your face to him.
“H..how so?” You wish the ground would swallow you whole as you stumble pathetically over your words. He hadn’t even touched you intimately and yet, you can’t think straight.
From your chin, Eddie’s fingers tickle down the front of your throat, hesitating there he decided to take a leisurely second to curl his strong fingers around your trachea. The momentary loss of oxygen makes your eyelids fall to hood your eyes, “Fuck, I could ruin you.” The whole time Eddie continues to gawk at the partition of your lips, and how relaxed you look beneath his touch.
Releasing you slowly he continues his assault on your hot skin, his feathery touch causing goosebumps to erupt after their wake. He palms your breasts through your blouse, grabbing a fist full of the plush flesh which causes you to cry out quietly, “No bra? Such a little fucking tease.” Eddie clicks his tongue, pinching your coiled nipples and roughly plucking at the stiff peaks with his fingertips.
“Ah...” you mewl and Eddie’s ears perk at the sound, like a puppy being called on for the first time.
“Has anyone ever touched you like this before?” His raspy voice asks as his lips pepper a kiss to your exposed shoulder, his tongue running briefly over the skin just because he wanted to taste you. You shake your head, in total awe of him and everything that he is.
“Poor baby,” He pouts out his bottom lip mockingly before his lips stretch into a lascivious grin, “I can take care of you.” His tongue flicks at the lobe of your ear before he is pulling the flesh in between his teeth, gnawing on it playfully.
“But we’re outside…” you remind him, your eyes focusing on the slow current of the water. The sun beating down onto it, making it glisten and glitter in a heavenly way.
“Mhm, we are,” He sucks at your neck, your body jolting ever so slightly at the electricity that zaps at your cunt from the contact, “She likes that, doesn’t she.” Eddie laughs breathily as he pulls back from your jugular, situating himself between your bare legs.
“I bet your pussy tastes so fucking good.” Eddie nuzzles his nose into the soft skin of your inner thigh, causing you to giggle at the ticklish touch of his hair.
“What if someone sees us?” A look over Eddie’s shoulder confirms that the group are way too occupied with one another to even focus on you two.
“They won’t.” His voice drips with confidence and his fingers move with deliberate precision as he rips your denim shorts from your legs, taking a pause to truly admire your underwear, and the darkened wet spot that had the material slick to your pussy lips, “These are cute, baby. You always wear such pretty panties?” He perks an eyebrow whilst his fingertips dance over the lacey fabric and you look at him with wide doe like eyes, stunned by the question and his touch. You hadn’t really thought about it.
“They are just my regulars…” you admit bashfully in a hushed tone and Eddie’s husky groan declares that he really likes that answer.
“Need you so bad,” His fingers hastily hook around the thin elastic of your waistband, “Can I?” Even when he is too horny to think straight, he remains a gentleman.
Feeling just as needy, you nod, and without a beat Eddie is yanking your panties all the wall down your legs, taking them off and shoving them into his jeans pocket.
His large hands catch behind your knees, hoisting your legs up so they sit comfortably on his shoulders. He wastes no time in bringing his mouth to your mound, his tongue frantic as he laps at your soaked core, “Mmm so fucking sweet.” He mutters, his voice dripping with possessiveness. Each caressing touch of his tongue driving you insane as you wrestle to keep yourself quiet.
Your whimpers send Eddie spiralling, awakening something primal within him. He wanted to watch you whither and crumble beneath his touch- he wanted to make you his.
Eddie moans into your dripping cunt, totally self indulging in the very taste of you. Your scent was now his favourite perfume and he wanted it to be seared into his memory forever.
“Oh god…” you pant, your eyes tearful as you look down at Eddie lapping messily between your thighs. You want nothing more than to scream his name at the top of your lungs, but instead you had to settle for silence.
Just when you thought you had mastered the art of biting your tongue, you feel a prodding at your entrance and then a gaping stretch as Eddie pushes two of his fingers deep inside of you, eliciting a grumbly moan from your throat, “You’re so responsive, such a good girl for me.”
The feeling of his long fingers pumping in and out of your sopping wet pussy leaves your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your mouth hanging open when he curls his digits inside of you, massaging that sweet spongy spot.
Eddie has to pry his own lips away from your core, his addiction to you worsening with each passing second, “You’re gushing baby, think you could handle three?”
The noise of your own arousal hits your ears like a symphony and you swear you have never felt pleasure like this before. Even when masturbating, it didn’t compare, “Ed’s.. please..” your voice is a pathetic whine and Eddie smirks at the way your eyes have blown in total submission to him. You’re just as drunk on him as he is on you.
You’re a babbling mess for him and Eddie is contemplating whether or not this is reality or just a really fucking good dream that he’s having, “That’s it, baby, fuck my fingers.” Your hips buck upward to meet each thrust of Eddie’s fingers and you nearly cry out- seconds away from blowing your little operation but thankfully Eddie manages to clutch his hand harshly over your mouth, “Shhh!” He warns with a smile as your eyes glaze over with pure lust. A tightness brews in your lower stomach, a blissful burn that you chase and chase and the next thing you know you’re a shaking mess, your thighs pressed firmly together entrapping Eddie’s hand inside of you as you cum- hard, screaming into Eddie’s palm.
“Clever girl, taking my fingers so well, darling.” Eddie winks down at you, his lips punctured by his two front teeth as he forces his arousal dripping fingers into your mouth, the pads of his fingers exploring the length of your tongue, “You taste so good, don’t you baby?” You moan around his digits, still fleeting from your release.
“I would love to see those perfect lips of yours wrapped around my cock… you wanna do that, sweet girl?” He palms himself over his jeans, so rock solid that any touch to his cock nearly causes him to burst at the seams, “C’mere.” Eddie is gentle as he takes a hold of your elbows, pulling you in for a quick but heated kiss before he sits you propped up on your knees.
“Lookin’ all pretty, just for me.” You are so gone, your head is in the clouds- mind filled with Eddie, Eddie and more Eddie, “Open up, sweetheart.” Eddie’s fingers glide through your hair, clutching the delicate strands at the root in a domineering grip. You shouldn’t like the pain, but you do.
Obediently you listen to Eddie’s deep voice and you open your mouth nice and wide, sticking out your tongue flatly to allow Eddie’s length to sit comfortably on the muscle, “Shit, princess, have you done this before?” He blurts, the question being rhetorical as a rapacious smile appears on his face as he forces his cock further into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag slightly.
“You can take it, right?” He punctuates his question with a thrust, tears swelling in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. Your nostrils flare, desperate for air as Eddie menacingly fucks your throat, “Just as I imagined.” He beams, balls deep in your mouth as you peer up at him, your nose tickled by his small snail trail leading to his belly button.
“Keep looking at me,” He asserted, his lips parted in astonishment at the image of you in front of him- so picture perfect, he wanted to carry it around in his wallet. You hollow your cheeks, drool pooling from your open mouth and dripping shamelessly down your chin. You can feel the wetness of your own saliva soaking the skin of your thighs, “That’s it, princess, eyes on me.”
“Shhh… I know it’s a lot, don’t cry.” His large thumb wipes your tear streaked cheeks, his eyes swirling with adoration and sin, “I’m so close baby, keep goin’ please.” And you do. Anything to have Eddie be pleased with you. To hear him call you a good girl. His good girl.
Your cheeks ache as your face bobs up and down his length, your chin pressing against his sack every time you meet his base. His hand is tangled messily in your hair now, fucking against your own movements.
A pleasure filled wail leaves Eddie’s mouth, his head thrown back in euphoria as his cum shoots far into your mouth, leaking down your oesophagus.
You both stay that way for a moment afterwards, Eddie’s hips rutting gently against your tongue as he allows his high to subside.
“You okay?” He muses, checking your features for any sort of discomfort or sadness.
“Yeah,” you reply, a happiness apparent in your cheerful voice, “Thank you.”
He starts himself up and pulling his jeans securely back around his waist, however it takes him mere seconds before he turns his attention to you. Dropping to his knees he grabs some napkins from your picnic basket, gliding the soft paper tissue over your swollen mouth, “You look so beautiful right now.” He chirps, landing a kiss to your forehead before continuing to clean you up. His touch is tender as he helps you shimmy your denim shorts back onto your hips, his lips littering kisses up your bare legs as he did which causes you to giggle. The moment feels light and airy and you can tell that this is the beginning of something really special.
Without a second to spare, the group approach shore. You are met with raised eyebrows and confusion at your flushed appearance and messy hair.
“So,” Steve interjects with a catty smirk, “What’d we miss?”
-
taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers
560 notes · View notes
flowercrowngods · 10 months
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who did this to you. part 2
🤍🌷 read part 1 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie
This is not happening. None of this is happening, he’s… He’s dreaming. He’s high. High as a kite somewhere where reality doesn’t matter, where it can’t fucking reach him and he’s— He’s not panicking behind the wheel with Steve Fucking Harrington bleeding against the passenger side window. 
It’s not happening. 
Because if it were happening, Eddie would simply throw up. He’d leave his van on the side of the road and run the fuck away. Away from Harrington and his trouble, away from his rattling breath that’s so loud and unsteady, Eddie doesn’t even dare to turn on any sort of music, even though he’s itching for it, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel until his knuckles go white. 
“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath, barely aware of his surroundings at all, his eyes flitting from Harrington to the red stain against the window, back to the road and then down to the white-knuckled grip and the speckles of dried blood that is decidedly not his. 
Lost in his panic and disbelief, Eddie almost runs a red light. 
It’s harsh, the way he hits the brakes, and the sound Harrington makes is pathetic enough that Eddie feels like maybe this might actually be happening. 
“Sorry,” he breathes, his voice no better than Steve’s — and he’s not the one with a concussion, a broken rib, and that… fucking fear. Of something. Or someone. 
Who’s hurting you, Steve? 
Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.
He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t wanna know. All he wants is for Harrington to stop fucking bleeding, to keep his eyes wide open and— 
“Ed,” the boy says, wheezes, and it sounds like he wanted to say his full name, but had to swallow first. Blood, Eddie thinks. Don’t let it be blood. “Think I’m… ‘M gonna throw up.” 
“Please don’t throw up,” Eddie says before he can stop himself, hating how small his voice sounds, how urgent — like that’s the thing to be urgent about. God, he’s such an ass, but he… If Harrington throws up, Eddie will lose it. He knows he will. 
He chances a glance over at Steve, who has somehow managed to get his right arm tangled with the handle at the door, keeping himself upright and safe from Eddie’s rather frantic driving style. His head is drooping, moving this way and that against the red-stained glass, and he blinks unseeingly as blood begins to trickle down from his nose and temple again. 
He’s making himself small, and Eddie wants to pull him upright and tell him to stay like that, tell him to stop looking so terrible, so horrible, so… 
So much like Eddie’s fucking problem. 
He hates it. Hates everything about that vision. Boys like Harrington shouldn’t look like this, shouldn’t hold themselves like this, shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have no one but Eddie to take them somewhere safe. 
It’s just not tight. 
“Don’ wanna throw up,” Steve says at last, the pause too long for Eddie’s liking, and he sounds so solemn about it, yet so helpless, and Eddie kinda wants to scream. Wants Harrington to scream. Anything to stay awake and maybe not ruin his car. Anything to not fucking die in it. 
“Tell me something,” he says then, because he knows he has to keep Harrington awake and speaking. Just for another ten, fifteen minutes, he tells himself. “Anything, yeah? Tell me anything. Gotta keep you awake there, you hear me? Sounds great, right, staying awake?” 
He’s rambling and he knows it, desperation shining through his words and the god-awful way his voice breaks a little. This is not about him, he knows it isn’t, but still he wants to punch himself, wants to pinch himself and stay fucking calm. 
But who could stay calm in a situation like this? The silence is filled with the horrible wheezing and rattling of Harrington’s breath barely audible over the engine, and Eddie has to look over several times to make sure he’s still there, still with him, still alive. His panic spikes each time. 
He’s just about to reach over and shake him a little, snap in front of his face to get him back, when—
“I don’t know what.” 
It’s quiet, that voice, breathy and tiny and almost invisible, and Eddie wants to scream again. 
Tell me why you’re so scared. Tell me why your old buddy did this to you. Hagan would never touch you, so why did he now? Tell me what happened to Hargrove. Tell me why you sound so fucking small. 
“Tell me about your…” He fumbles for a moment, taking a sharp left and pretending not to hear the choked-off whimper. Focusing on good things. On normal things. “Your favourite person.” 
Eddie cringes at himself the moment the words leave his mouth. Your favourite person? Really, Munson? He scrambles to find something better, something cooler, or maybe something easier like asking his favourite fucking colour, but the overthinking really doesn’t mix well with the already panicked state of his mind. And Eddie just blanks. 
Beside him, though, Harrington sits up a little straighter, smearing more blood against his window in the process that Eddie pretends not to feel nauseous about. 
God, he never did like blood. 
“You wan’ me to tell you ‘bout Rob?” 
“Sure, yeah,” Eddie says, a little too loud, a little too shrill, actually running a red light this time because he doesn’t want to brake again and hurt the boy some more. There’s no one around anyway. This is Hawkins. Fucking dead-end of a town. It doesn’t need red lights, or boys who look like Harrington. “Rob. Tell me ‘bout him, what’s he like? Favourite colour, all that shit.” 
“Her.” 
Eddie blinks, looking over to find Harrington looking at him — or trying to, his eyes still drooping and empty. But it’s a good sign. People don’t die when they look at you, right? 
“What?” 
“Her,” Harrington says again. “An’ blue. Deep ‘n’ dark blue. She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.”
Eddie doesn’t really listen, doesn’t really process what Steve is saying, already thinking of the next question just to keep him talking. But then he continues on his own. 
“Mornin’ blue dep— de… makes her sad, though. So only dark blue. Says it’s why we’re friends. You’re so blue, Stevie. Got half’a my clothes, still, she does. All the blues.” 
That's... really fucking endearing, actually. 
And he says it with a half-smile, too, bloody and pathetic as it is. Like it’s a secret that only the two of them are in on, only Steve and Robin. It’s kind of sweet. 
Not for the first time today does Eddie find himself wondering, Who the hell are you, Steve Harrington?
He exhales through his nose, ignoring the way he’s started to shake with all that panic that’s been sitting inside him for a little too long now with no way to let it out. 
“Not much longer,” he mumbles under his breath again, or maybe he just thinks very hard. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is at all. It’s like he blanks every few seconds, too busy thinking and trying not to.
Before he can tell Harrington to talk some more about that girlfriend of his, there’s a pained, confused little whine that forcefully tears Eddie’s eyes from the street for a moment only to meet hazel eyes widened in confusion. 
“Wh— Where… Where’re we going?” 
Oh no. 
“Why’m I in y—“ 
“You’re safe,” Eddie interrupts him, speaking slowly because suddenly his tongue is too big for his mouth, and not entirely sure if he’s reassuring Harrington or himself. “You’re hurt, okay? It’s bad, but it wasn’t me. I’m taking you to… to someone. My uncle Wayne, he’s— He knows about that kinda stuff. You were telling me about Rob. Remember her, Blue? How about you tell me some more, hm?” 
Eddie’s voice is unsteady with worry and fear and panic, and he’s doing a piss-poor job at hiding it. The thing is, he’s going to cry. He’s actually, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it going to scream and cry and punch a fucking hole into something when this day is over, when his van is no longer bloody, and when Steve Harrington won’t have reason to look at him any longer. 
Oh, how he wants to skip forward. Past the nausea, past the fear, past everything that’s happening right now. Maybe past the insomnia that will come with a day like this, too. 
Past all of it. 
Or better yet, travel back in time and never get to that fucking boat house. 
But he can’t. So he breathes. 
At first, through the ringing in his ears and the racing of his own heart so loud and so forceful he’s shaking with it, he worries that Steve’s gone silent again, that he’s gonna ask again, ask what happened, ask where he is, ask all the questions that make Eddie feel like he’s been doused in ice water because they’re questions that only get asked in stupid movies where terrible things happen to people. 
But then he hears him mumbling something. Numbers. 
“What’cha mumbling there, Blue?” 
“‘S her number,” Steve says, his voice slurring again, worse than before, and Eddie hits the gas a little harder. “‘S jus’ her number. Robbie’s number.” 
And he mumbles again. Over and over and over, until Eddie couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, ingrained into the frayed edges of his mind now. 
He lets him ramble, lets him repeat the number until the words slur together and he can’t separate a four from a nine anymore. Each time Harrington hesitates, each time he stumbles over the words or forgets a digit, Eddie wants to punch the wheel. 
He doesn’t. He only grips it tighter and counts down the turns he takes, the streets he passes, the fucking trees that are familiar, before, finally, the trailer park comes into view. 
The sob Eddie lets out when, with shaking, trembling hands he pulls up to his home to find his uncle having a smoke outside is deafening to his ears after the quiet weakness of Harrington’s voice. 
It startles him, makes him stop his rambles and sit up straighter when Eddie finally kills the engine. For a moment, without the steady, rolling hum, the car is filled with the small, tiny whines Steve makes on each exhale. Like it hurts to even breathe. 
“Wha’s wrong?” He asks, but Eddie can’t really hear him. Can’t turn to him, can’t— “Eddie?” 
He’s out of the car before he can take hold of another thought, stumbling out of his open door on legs that feel numb and heavy. The urge to cry is back again, the burning in his eyes only getting worse when Wayne takes in the dried blood on his clothes and hands with careful, calculated worry.
“Ed?” 
“I didn’t know what— where—- I’m… Wayne, I’m sorry.” 
“Slow down, kid,” Wayne says, raising his hands as if to calm a spooked deer. Like Eddie is the one who needs his help. And he is. He really, really is, and he shouldn’t be, because this isn’t about him, but—
Wayne grabs him by the shoulders to keep him still, and only now does Eddie realise he’s shaking again, restlessly moving his weight from one leg to the other. His uncle steadies him, gently pressing down on his shoulders to ground him, and Eddie nearly sobs again. 
“Ed. Are you in trouble?” 
“No,” Eddie scrambles to say, becoming aware of what this looks like, hiding his hands behind his back on instinct, like that’ll make Harrington’s blood disappear. “‘S not my blood, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear. It’s, uh. I just found him. In the boathouse, I found him, and he was… God, he looked so bad, okay, but he didn’t want the hospital, and he was, like, so scared of something, and we don’t even talk, we don’t even look at each other, but I just… I didn’t know what to do, and you know something about concussions and people who were beat to shit and, again, I’m—“ 
“Eddie,” Wayne says, his voice so calm but so assertive that Eddie shuts up immediately, gladly handing over to controls to his uncle now. “Who’s the kid?” 
He nods towards Eddie’s van, where Harrington looks to be halfway unbuckled, but his eyes are closed and his face smushed against the door again, like he just gave up.  
“Shit,” Eddie says, adrenaline and panic slowly falling from him with Wayne’s hand on his shoulder. He sags into his uncle and rubs at his face. “It’s Steve. Uh, Steve Harrington, I mean.” 
“Okay,” Wayne says, and he’s so calm. So calm. Eddie feels like he’s about to fall apart, and Wayne is the only one keeping him together, with that’d steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “And you promise me he didn’t give you trouble? Or anyone else who’ll come finish what they started?” 
Eddie shakes his head profusely, getting a little dizzy with it. “I promise I’m not in trouble. He said Hagan did this to him, was alone when I found him. No trouble, Wayne, I swear, I’m not like that, you know I’m not.”
“Okay,” Wayne says again, and Eddie wants to weep. “I know you’re not like that, but some people are, y’know? You did good, son. You did good. Now help me get him out of that car.” 
It takes his uncle tugging him towards the van for Eddie to kick back into motion, nearly falling over his feet turning back around. It’s only Wayne’s “Easy” murmured under his breath that keeps the ground from opening up and swallowing him whole. 
He climbs in on the driver’s side while Wayne rounds the car and gets to Harrington’s side. 
“Hey there, Blue,” Eddie says, his voice shaking and the nickname slipping again — but it’s easier to call him that than his real name, it’s easier to pretend it’s literally anyone else in here with him, bleeding against his door. 
It’s easier to pretend it’s not Harrington’s breath rattling the way it does, easier to pretend those pained groans so high in their cadence they can only count as whines don’t come from Hawkins High’s Golden Boy who graduated a few months ago and was supposed to be done with bullshit like this. 
“Come on, up you get,” he tells him, not daring to raise his voice too much. 
He looks so frail. Like he’s already broken. Or like he’s trying not to. Like he’s holding on. 
Eddie pretends not to think that the hand he places on Steve’s cheek to gently pry him from the window is not the only thing keeping that boy together right now. 
Harrington groans, whines, wheezes, but opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. Jesus, we’re they this blown before? Or this swollen?
“Hey,” Eddie says, just to say something. Just so he won’t have to hold the boy’s face in silence, just so he won’t have to focus on all the blood. Just so he won’t have to hear more questions that people aren’t supposed to ask. 
Steve opens his mouth, his breath coming out a little sharper, like he wants to say Hi rather than Where am I? or When will it stop hurting? Like he wants to say How can I help you help me? 
Somehow, Eddie manages a smile. 
Wayne chooses that moment to open the door — just unclicking it, not pulling yet; giving Eddie enough time to support Harrington, make sure he doesn’t fall.
“Careful,” he whispers, though whether it’s for Wayne, for Steve, or for himself, he can’t quite tell. Maybe it’s a plea to the rest of the world, and to anyone else who will listen. 
Steve is still staring at him. That’s probably not a good sign. He leans back a little, turning Steve’s head to make him follow him. Slowly, of course. Gently. Eddie can’t remember ever having touched something like it was going to break if only he looked at it wrong, but somehow he’s hyper-aware of it now. 
Because Harrington is staring at him. Entirely too still, like he has no strength, no coordination to do anything but stare. And yet Eddie is the one who, now that the adrenaline has fallen from him, now that he can let someone else take over, now that Harrington doesn’t need him anymore, finds himself unable to look away. 
Because Steve is just a boy. And so is Eddie, who can feel Steve’s breath against his wrist. And maybe, out of the two of them, Eddie is the fragile one. The one about to break. 
“Blue, you with me?”
Steve nods. Doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t move. Eddie swallows, briefly looking back down at Wayne to see if he’s ready. His uncle nods, ready to catch Harrington should he go down, and Eddie turns back to the boy who’s smeared with his own blood.
“I’m gonna take off your seatbelt now, yeah?” he tells him, not entirely recognising his voice anymore. “That man out there, that is Wayne. My uncle. He’s safe. He’ll take care of you, okay?” 
“Safe,” Steve breathes, and that shouldn’t be the one thing he focuses on. It shouldn’t sound so unsure. So insecure. So hopeful, so relieved, so— Fucking earnest. 
Swallowing all these thoughts, all this desperation and all those questions, Eddie reaches over Steve, one hand still supporting his head and feeling the overheated skin of Harrington’s cheek against his palm, the hint of stubble and the crust of dried blood. As if in slow motion, not daring to make a wrong move and hurt him more than he already does, Eddie frees him the rest of the way, letting the seatbelt slide into its hold behind his shoulder. 
“Careful,” he says again, just to say anything, but he is careful, and his hold on Steve is steady. 
“‘M careful. Not gonna break, Eddie.” 
“I know.” But maybe I will. 
“Good. ‘Cause… Don’ wanna break.” 
Eddie smiles, despite everything. “You’re not gonna break, Blue. Wayne’ll catch you.” 
Harrington loses his focus then, his eyes glazing over, but the small smile on his lips widens. “Blue. ‘S nice.” 
Yeah, Eddie thinks. He kinda is. 
Somehow, miraculously, they get Harrington out of the van and into the trailer. He throws up halfway to the doorstep, and Eddie curses under his breath while Wayne talks quietly, asking him yes and no questions that Eddie can’t really hear through the ringing in his ears — a strange mix of fear and relief, a panic not quite over, but soothed by his uncle’s familiar voice; even if it’s not directed at him.
“Don’t worry about it, kid, the next rain’ll take care of that. Stop apologising.” 
It throws him then, rather suddenly and violently, watching Wayne supporting Harrington, watching the blood smeared boy with the swelling, angry red bruises in his face. Somehow it’s different, seeing him in his home. 
This was always a safe space. Always void of everything terrible. 
And now there’s a broken boy on his doorstep who’s not Eddie. 
He remembers the fear, the panic, the plea for no hospital, Eddie. Can’t go there.
Why not? You need a doctor—
Monsters. Only monsters there.
It paralyses him and he stays where he is, holding the door with an arm that’s heavy like lead, standing on legs that begin to go numb again. He watches, but not really, as Wayne sits Harrington down on the living room couch, between magazines and brochures and some of Eddie’s calculus notes from last night that he was searching for a sketch of a monster he was so certain he’d drawn in the margins a few weeks back. 
Now there’s blood on his calculus notes. And Eddie is helplessly keeping the door open as though he’s going to run away any second now. Letting in more trouble to join Harrington on his couch. 
He should… He should close the door. Help. Run. Disappear. 
“Ed,” Wayne calls, snapping him out of his stupor. “The first aid kit, please. A bottle of water. A clean, wet cloth. A blanket, too.” 
Wayne talks him through it, takes it one step at a time, has Eddie bring him one after the other like he knows how much he’s keeping his nephew together by keeping him on the brink of usefulness.
Soon, Wayne has everything he needs, taking care of Harrington and his wounds, keeping him awake and talking so much better than Eddie did, even making him smile here and there, hiding his wince when the motion pulls on his split lip or the huffed breath sends a jolt of pain through his rib that Eddie is absolutely certain must be broken with the way he holds himself — with the way he lets Wayne hold him up. 
Wayne is doing his thing and Eddie is hiding, gripping the kitchen counter like a vice, staring both unseeingly and hyper-vigilantly as exhaustion washes over him, dragging him under and draining him of more than adrenaline. He slumps against the cupboard behind him, rubbing at his face like that’ll make it all go away. 
It’s not right. It’s not. This is Eddie’s home, it’s supposed to be safe, it’s not… 
He breaks away, ripping his hands from the counter and all but stumbling outside, heaving a deep breath and giving in to the urge to cry. Tears spring to his eyes and he wipes them away angrily, because it’s dumb, it’s so stupid, it’s absolutely fucking insane that he should be so worked up when Harrington talked about dying earlier. 
These things don’t happen. They don’t! 
“Stop fucking crying,” Eddie grumbles, sniffling and wiping away more tears as he closes his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Get a grip, Munson, Jesus Christ, there’s no reason to cry you big fuckin’ baby.” 
Nobody’s there to contradict him. Nobody’s there to make it worse. So he lets his eyes sting for a while, lets his lips wobble, his jaw clenched shut, the balls of his hands pressing into his eyes, breathing deliberately. 
In. Hold. Out. Hold. 
He doesn’t even scream. Doesn’t punch the still bloody side of his van, doesn’t run into the woods and disappear into the void. 
He simply breathes. Tries not to think about boys dying in mall fires, and even less so about boys beaten and abandoned in boat houses.
Doesn’t think about fucking Hawkins in Bumfuck-Indiana and the cursed way it has, driving its people mad. 
Doesn’t think about, They said my brain is hurt, Eddie. Doesn’t think about the Monsters Harrington mentioned. Doesn’t think about Blue, doesn’t think about I’m tired, Eddie. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. 
Doesn’t think about blue, blue, blue. 
He’s shaking when he comes back inside. He’s shaking when Harrington meets his eyes, looking a little clearer now, the blood washed away and everything bandaged a lot better than Eddie managed. He’a bundled in Eddie’s blanket. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong. 
Eddie can’t move, and neither does Steve. 
“Steve,” Wayne says, waiting until those eyes tear themselves away from Eddie and back to him, though Eddie sees them fill with such trepidation, he almost asks what’s wrong. “I won’t hear a no on this, and I won’t let you go home. I’m taking you to the hospital. Especially if you tell me your head was hurt like this before, more times than one.” 
“Three,” Blue breathes, a little dazed still. Not magically healed, not even from Wayne. Another thing that doesn’t feel right. 
“Three times,” Wayne says, nodding, like he’s encouraging Steve to continue. 
“But I don’t want a hospital.” Again with that tiny fucking voice. Like the Monsters are hiding under hospital beds. 
“I know, son,” Wayne sighs, tugging the blanket a little tighter around Steve, and Eddie’s eyes begin to sting again when he notices the tone Wayne uses. When he realises. When he remembers. 
”I want my mom.“ 
”I know, son. But she’s not coming. Your mama is gone, Ed, and this is your home now. Think we can make that work, hm? You and I?” 
Eddie had never felt so lost as he did then, clutching his blanket to his chest, burying his face in the wet fabric even as this man — his uncle — tugs it tighter around him. Like he is fine with Eddie wanting to hide as long as he doesn’t run away. 
He had shrugged, then, even though we wanted to shake his head, tell him no, tell him he wanted his mama. 
”I’m scared, uncle Wayne.” 
And Wayne had smiled a little, and nodded. “Then we do it scared, Eddie.”
Actually, Eddie feels like he never stopped doing it scared. 
And now there is Steve, who Eddie never believed knew what being scared felt like. It’s dumb, of course, because even Harrington is just a boy, but he was always untouchable to Eddie. They never talked. They never existed in the same space together, not in a good way and not in a bad way. Their worlds just never aligned, never collided, never coexisted. 
And now… 
“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, okay? There’s a doctor, Doctor Clarke. Like— Yeah, like your science teacher, remember him? ‘S got a brother who’s just as much of a genius, and just as kind. He’ll take a look at you, yeah? Make sure your brain isn’t too hurt, clean your wounds, give you something for the pain. He won’t, uh. He won’t hurt you, kid. Whatever’s got you so scared, Dr Clarke will be nice to you. Especially when I’m there with ya, I’m an old pal of his. And I will be. Won’t let you outta my sight until you’re well enough to run away from me, you hear me, kid?” 
Eddie’s hands are hurting, his fingertips raw from where he’s been biting his nails while Wayne talks Blue through what’s going to happen — and he wonders, with the way Steve’s eyes are glued to Wayne, if he ever had anyone talking him through shit like this. 
“Okay,” Harrington breathes at last, still sounding way too small. “But. I’m…” 
“Scared anyway?” Wayne offers. Steve nods. You’re so blue, Stevie. “Then we do it scared anyway.”
And they do. Wayne goes to get the car so Steve won’t have to walk too far, leaving Eddie alone with him for a brief moment. 
He watches, from his place in the kitchen, how Steve’s face falls into a look of utter exhaustion and tiredness; the adrenaline washing from him just the same. Eddie wants to reach out. Wants to say something, break the spell of tension and silence and I know we don’t talk, but I’m glad you’re doing a little better. I’m glad you’ll go see a doctor. I’m glad you haven’t died, I guess. Do you really think you will? Are you really so scared of that? 
But Eddie keeps biting his nails, and Steve keeps his eyes closed, blanket around his shoulders. And they don’t talk. 
“Thank you.” 
Eddie perks up, not entirely sure he didn’t imagine the words — but Harrington moved slightly, his eyes still closed but his face now turned towards Eddie. 
“For, uh. This.” 
“I didn’t do shit, Blue,” Eddie says. “That was all Wayne. All I did was freak out, I promise.” 
Harrington shakes his head, though, slowly. “Mh-mm.” 
Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, because there is no room for discussion here. They don’t talk. And he doesn’t want the bubble to burst with insecurity and sourness. 
“Thank you,” he says again, and he sounds final about it. It makes Eddie wonder what he’s like, really like, when he doesn’t consist of pain and nausea and disorientation. 
He has a feeling that, despite everything, despite Monsters under hospital beds and torture in boathouses and mall fires that kill teenagers, Blue Harrington might be someone good to talk to. Compassionate as shit, even when all he wants to do is pass out. 
“You’re welcome,” Eddie rasps, pretending that his eyes don’t sting.
He wraps his arms around his chest like he’s hugging himself, or like he’s holding himself back. From reaching out, from asking, from telling, from talking. 
Unwittingly, even with his eyes closed, Steve mirrors him, and Eddie wonders if he, too, it holding himself back, or just curling in on himself some more even though it must hurt, feeling so small. 
Maybe that’s what fear of death does to a nineteen year-old. It’s so fucked up. Eddie wants to scream again. 
Outside, he hears a car door fall shut just before Wayne reappears in the door, giving Eddie some kind of meaningful look that he wouldn’t mind deciphering on any other day, but today he fears he needs words. 
“I don’t know how long this’ll take. Will you be okay, Ed?” 
“Will I be— Yes! I’m not the one with the concussion, man, of course I’ll be—“ 
It’s a bluff, comes too fast, and Wayne sees right through it before Eddie even realises it, and he steps closer. A warm hand on his shoulder. His eyes stinging again. 
“You did good, kid. Everything will be fine. But it might take a while. It’s fine if you need to go somewhere, just… Don’t drive. Call Jeff if you need someone, just. Don’t do anything stupid. And don’t get behind the wheel. Deal?” 
Eddie swallows hard, hit by another desperate, aching wave of I wanna go back in time and skip this day. A wave of tired exhaustion and wondering, aimlessly, just who the fuck Steve Harrington really is. 
“Deal,” he says, and Wayne pulls him into a hug. 
Eddie follows them outside then, trailing behind them like a lost little puppy, helping Harrington into Wayne’s car. His movements are still slugged and a little disoriented, so Eddie decides to lean in again and fasten his seatbelt. 
“Careful,” he mumbles, allowing the boy a moment’s warning, a moment to adjust before the weight settles on his chest. 
Dejá-vù hits him and makes him pause, with Harrington staring at him again. 
“I’m careful,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging into a little smile.
More lucid than earlier, and Eddie thinks it that which takes his breath away for a moment. 
“Not gonna break, Eddie.” 
“I know,” he says, still not moving back, instead reaching up to tighten the blanket around his shoulders even though the seatbelt is already there to hold it in place. “You’re not gonna break, Blue.” 
The smile on those lips is genuine now, gentle enough to not be ruined by the blood crusting them. 
“Thanks. Again.” And then, when Eddie finally pulls away to close the door and tell Wayne to drive safely, “I really do like that name.”
It soothes the urge to scream.
Eddie closes the door as gently as he can — which isn’t much, because the car is old and not exactly smooth. 
“I’ll see you later,” he tells Wayne. Promises. To stay out of trouble, to stick around, to not run away for a while again, to stay out of his car. 
Wayne nods, a faint smile on his lips. 
“Later, Ed.” 
And then they’re gone, and Eddie is untethered again. Wonders, for a few seconds every now and then if it really happened, if this is real. 
But it did. And it is. 
And after sitting on the steps for a while, having a smoke and staring at where Wayne’s car disappeared ten, twenty, forty minutes ago, Eddie heads inside. 
He has a phone call to make.
🤍🌷 tagging: @theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 (a thousand percent sure i missed some but oh well such is the 3am disease)
addendum 22 jan 24: onwards to part 3
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imposterogers · 11 months
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ppl used to get mad me when I said I would have rathered steve rogers die than the ending they gave us.......... but really. as a steve stan for over a decade it would have been much kinder to watch him die as a testament to his ethos (you always stand up) than watch the entirety of his character be ruined in five minutes
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aliidarling · 5 months
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danny johnson with friendly!survivor
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DANNY JOHNSON x fem!reader
— headcanons
nsfw / sfw content below!
imagine danny seeing you for the first time, dressed in a cute black dress with black uggs, your hair with a bow in the back. his first thought is how the hell can you run in those furry boots? they must get mud all over them.
he’s at first drawn by you, your beauty, innocence, and how you’re so god friendly. it’s nerve wracking, how each time he pairs up with you, you don’t hesitate to greet him with a hug. he feels a little possessive, wondering if you do this with other killers. he asks around and they all tell him you’re scared of them, how you run off immediately and how you stick to gens.
he feels prideful at that. you were comfortable around him, safe even. if he wasn’t such a deranged lunatic maybe he’d ask you out like a normal gentlemen, but whenever he sees you he’s caught inbetween two worlds.
imagine danny seeing the other survivors take advantage of your purity, asking you to sacrifice yourself and unhook others, always blaming their generator blasts on you. one time he even witnessed them slamming a pallet in your face, and at that moment he swore he would all gut them and send them up into the entity.
his pretty princess didn’t deserve this treatment. you deserved to get pampered and massaged, get your cute little face rubbed and kissed, not whatever the hell this is.
safe to say, none of the other survivors made it out that round. you, on the other hand, escaped unscathed through the hatch with a kiss on the forehead.
imagine danny witnessing you coming into the match with a tiny pajama set, matching with all your fellow survivors. you have a black oversized tee shirt on that hugs your chest and accentuates your curves(he swears he’s not a creep, he just notices things easily..). your shorts weren’t any better, shaking off that soft skin of yours that glowed. he would rather die then to see that pretty skin all bruised and bloody.
he can quite literally melt into a puddle as he notices what’s on your shirt. it’s a graphic design of him slashing, with his name written in a flashy red font. the entity must of noticed his obsession with you, because no way this was a coincidence. he had never been more happy. he was definitely gonna make sure to give the entity some more sacrifices as a little thanks.
imagine danny slowly becoming more and more obsessed with you, a small crushing turning into a massive obsession over the span of a few months. he can’t breathe with you, can’t think, can’t sleep, can’t do anything. he starts to sneak into the survivors camp just to take photos of you, snapping you in every angle he can get. he thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the world.
whenever he sees someone interact with you while he’s doing his usual stalking he finds himself becoming so angry. why were you entertaining them? you were his good girl, not that dick steve’s or sweet boy dwight’s. his.
half of his bedroom is a mess, cluttered with random little miscellaneous he found throughout the forest of his realm. his house is small and rusty, a little cabin in the woods he stays in outside of trials, where he spends all his time thinking about you. just you. under his bed is a blood red box he hides, full of polaroids of you, some pieces of clothing he managed to snatch off your figure, even some of your missing objects you hadn’t seen in months.
did i mention he loves to break into your cabin?
imagine danny snooping through your small room while you’re out in a trial, shoving his nose into your business and sniffing everything. he goes through your closet, dressers, under your bed, even tries prying open the floor boards. he wants to analyze every part of you and understand how you work, how you function, how that tiny brain of yours thinks.
he can’t help but laugh when he finds your collection of bows and your girly objects. he doesn’t know how you’ve managed to have make up and hygiene products in this realm, but your dresser has them. no wonder he’s so obsessed with sniffing you, you have that sweet aroma of sweet goods and vanilla sweets that’s coming from your perfumes.
nsfw content below!!
imagine danny whisking you away whenever you both are matched up, taking you into one of the rooms in the myers house. he’s quick to push you down onto the rugged mattress and pull your tiny dress up, grinding his hips against your round butt. he cherishes your sweet little moans, how your eyes roll back.
he loves to tug at you, taking his mask off at times to bite and kiss you. you were the only person he’d let see him without it, especially in such a vulnerable moment. he would take advantage of his access to your butt and give it bites, leaving literal red marks on your butt. your loud squeal and annoyed glare is what amuses him and makes him keep doing it.
imagine danny holding you by your waist, his large hands that were undoubtedly covered in your friends blood grippijg you tightly as he rubbed his tip up and down your wet hole. he relishes in the fact he makes you so wet. he doesn’t have to do much, he can rub you and give you a little kiss and you’d be begging for his cock like a needy whore. he’s loves that about you, you’re easy. only when it comes to him, though.
imagine danny humming in relief as he finally slides himself deep inside you, bottoming out in one thrust. his hips snap against you as he focuses on how tight you are around him, how warm you are around his cock. he could not give a fuck about any of the survivors running around like mice, doing generators and opening chests, not knowing one of their fellow survivors were being slutted out and fucked nice n deep like the good girl you are. “shhhh,” he whispers gently, petting your face. your sweet cries make him harder.
imagine danny having you bent over one of the vaults, your head sticking out on the other side as you moan like a dumb girl, tongue sticking out. his hand is in your hair, tugging at it gently as he rolls his cock into you. he knows you’re in a position where anyone could walk across the two of you, but that only makes him more needy for you, more eager to fuck you hard.
he teases you a lot, making fun of you and giving you small jabs each time his fat tip hits your cervix. he listens to each noise you make, wanting to inhale your words. he was obsessed with every part of you, from your head to toes, your insides to outsides.
imagine danny having his days where he’s so pissed off. all four survivors escaped, and he can’t even count the amount of times he got a pallet slammed in his face. he’s quick to sneak into your cabin and push you down onto your bed, not caring about your confused pleas and dumb words about getting caught. he ignores everything you say, pulling your pants off and pulling you forcefully into a face down ass up position.
ramming his cock in your unprepared hole was one of the best feelings in the world, other then gutting his victims. your cries into your pillow are silenced as he keeps a hand on the back of your head, massaging your scalp subtly. his other hand holds you down as he batters your pussy, groaning and letting dirty phrases slip out of his mouth. a part of him feels bad for being so mean to you, you’re just a sweet girl, so pretty and innocent— you don’t deserve this, no, you deserve to be fucked gently and kissed, but that doesn’t matter right now. right now he needs a tight hole to fuck his anger into.
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model!steve and voice actor!eddie
part 2 here | ao3 link here
Eddie chose a career in voice acting to avoid shit like this.
Forced socializing. Schmoozing with hotshot directors who are used to everyone kissing their ass until their lips bleed. And Eddie doesn’t do that shit. 
… Okay yeah sure, Eddie kisses asses. But only in the literal, consensual kind of way. Usually after a few mediocre dinner dates, at least.
But this particular fuckhole of a director is insisting that Eddie attends the production shoot of the commercial that he’ll be narrating for. Which is weird - that’s not how this process typically goes. Eddie gets the script and records it in his studio. Easy peasy.
“I do things a little differently with my projects.” The director sneers into the phone’s speaker. Eddie silently gags at the oozing amounts of ego on this guy. “I want to immerse you into my vision.”
Ew. Eddie would rather immerse himself into a nap, but whatever. A job is a job.
“Understood.” Eddie agrees with minimal teeth-clenching. “I’ll be on set shortly.”
The phone clicks dead with nothing but a chuckle from the guy. No ‘goodbye,’ no ‘thank you.’ Rude… but that’s kind of an industry standard, so why did Eddie expect anything different?
He folds the script into his back pocket, throws on a shirt that screams ‘Los Angeles disaster gay,’ and makes his way to the studio lot.
Fucking yay. 
Upon arrival, the director immediately escorts Eddie into the green room. Rambles on about needing him to meet the lead model for this commercial.
“Isn’t he just posing with the product?” Eddie lets his snarkiness run loose with that question, knows it right away.
Luckily, the guy is too busy snapping at a crew member to notice. “You’ll be voicing his character’s inner narrations.”
“Right.”
“And I want your tone to be seamless with the energy that he’s giving in this shoot. Got it?”
“Loud and clear.” Mostly loud.
The director swings open the door and reveals maybe the most cosmically beautiful person that Eddie has ever seen.
“Eddie, this is Steve.” The director says. “Steve, this is Eddie.”
Models are beautiful people, that’s the goddamn gig. Makeup, no makeup. Photoshop, no photoshop. They just look better than the general population and society accepts that as a fact.
But Eddie is a grubby little voice actor that burrows himself up in his boxy apartment for days. Very little sunlight, very little human interaction, and a shit ton of takeout.
Long story short, he doesn’t get out much. So this? Seeing a biblically hot heartthrob in the flesh? With his own two eyes? It’s knocking him into deep space. Sending him into an astral projection without sticking a tablet on his tongue first.
“Nice to meet you, man.” Steve holds out his hand while someone brushes more powder onto his shiny, glowy skin. God, that’s the best damn skin Eddie has ever seen. Powder be damned, Steve doesn’t need it’s chalky finish.
Eddie shakes himself out of this spell, takes Steve’s hand like he’s somehow worthy of touching him. “Yeah, you too.”
Lame. So lame. On a scale of one to Star Wars prequels, his response is the CGI in Attack of the Clones. ‘Yeah, you too?’ Ugh, what a dumbass.
The director tells them to get acquainted and to be on set in ten minutes. Ten minutes. Eddie has to be convincingly normal for ten whole minutes. Pfft, that’s laughable, but he’ll give it a shot.
“That guy’s a total asshat.” Steve grumbles.
Oh. Eddie could smother him in kisses for saying that. Lick Steve clean of all that stupid powder and probably die of talc poisoning. Death By Licking a Model is one hell of a way to go.
“Yeah.” Find some new words, Munson. “Major asshat. But he happens to be paying my bills this month, so technically, he’s my favorite major asshat.”
“Oh, same.” Steve laughs. It’s fucking glorious too. Eddie kind of wishes he had brought his microphone so that he could capture such a wonderful sound with high quality recording software. Is that creepy? Maybe he should dial it back. 
... As if. This guy’s hair is sculpted with effortless perfection and his shoulder blades could slice through a French baguette. No way Eddie can dial it back or keep it together.
“So you’re doing the voice work on the commercial, right?” Steve asks.
‘Yup.” Eddie shoves both hands into his pockets. “Indeed I am.” 
Okay, that was borderline Yoda. Get a grip.
Steve seems unfazed though. “That’s cool. Can’t wait to hear what you come up with.”
“Thanks.” Eddie smiles warmly. Nerves mellowing out. “And I can’t wait to see you in action out there.”
“Hope I can give you some good inspiration.” And Steve winks, legit winks at Eddie. Does it like it’s normal too, like he winks at everybody. He probably winks at nuns just to see if he can get them to consider conversion.
Eddie is so hopeless. Fucking tragic at this point.
They walk into the studio and are greeted by a somber, archaic set design. There’s a massive throne in the middle that is draped with fur. 
It’s… tacky. That’s the nicest adjective Eddie has to describe it. Tacky bullshit.
“I thought this was for a cologne ad.” Eddie says, eyeing the snowy backdrop.
Steve nods. “It is.”
“So what’s with the secondhand Game of Thrones set?”
“Mr. Asshat thinks this is his cinematic debut.”
Eddie snorts. Loves that he already has inside jokes with this beautiful, beautiful creature. “Someone should tell Mr. Asshat that this is visual plagiarism.”
“Nah.” Steve runs his hand over the tacky fur piece. Smirks to himself as he speaks. “I say we let him suffer.”
Eddie’s legs wobble. “Damn, you’re hot.”
He sounds ridiculously uncool, so breathy and gone. But Steve shrugs in a non-pitying kind of way, so maybe Eddie's uncoolness is excused. Or expected.
While the camera and lighting crew finalize their positions, Steve takes off his robe, revealing his costume.
Torn, muddied pants. Ripped and clawed to shreds. A billowy white top that’s completely unbuttoned. Un-laced? Eddie’s not entirely sure about the mechanics - just knows that Steve’s chest is out, that’s all he can focus on.
There’s a dented crown that the stylist places next to the throne, right at Steve’s feet. It’s shimmery yet tarnished, catches the light in a kaleidoscope effect.
The product is called The Fallen King, so deductive reasoning tells Eddie that Steve is meant to be the physical embodiment of this scent. He recalls something in the script about his title being slandered by promiscuity and forbidden love. Apparently they’ve bottled up that smell into a cologne. 
Do people really want to smell like a dethroned monarch? That’s a thing? Huh.
Just to make the sexual torture even more unbearable, Eddie gets to spectate alongside Mr. Asshat himself. Which also means that Eddie almost has a center view of Steve’s performance.
Cause that’s exactly what he’s giving. A performance. A full display production of his body, his face. His whole godlike essence. 
It’s unfair how fucked Eddie is from watching Steve pose. He can hold the oddest positions without budging a single tendon. So still. Durable. Strong.
Every last thought in Eddie’s head is impure from that observation. He wants to wrap his fingers around Steve’s muscles until he finally moves, twitches. Eddie wants to watch as Steve’s pretty lips part, falling open with sighs. See how long it takes for those sighs to turn into moans.
Steve slumps back into the throne, legs spread obscenely far apart. His gaze droops low and dark, practically eye-fucking the camera. It’s crazy how jealous Eddie is of that stupid inanimate object. The things he would do to get eye-fucked by that golden sex god up there…
His internal porno gets interrupted by a new pose. A wicked one. Steve is on his knees now, looking up into the camera lens. He sinks into the dreamiest expression. Looks dazed, all spaced-out and helpless. Eddie kneads at the growing heat in his pants with the heel of his palm. Hopes it’s not fucking obvious that he’s so horned up right now.
The director clears his throat and yells over the camera’s constant shuttering. “Can you tilt your head back, Steve?”
And Steve does. So obedient, so exceptional at his job. His head rolls back on his neck, shoulders sagging with the shift of weight.
Eddie is chewing the inside of his cheek, nearly ready to take the horny loss and go jack off in his car. Steve is in the most ideal position now, totally vulnerable. Eddie could fuck him so good like that, let Steve melt into his touch. He’d treat him like treasure, spoil him with dick and praise. Eddie would catch him if his legs give out. Would lick Steve’s kiss-bitten lips until the swelling goes down.
God, Eddie is so sick in the head for conjuring up x-rated scenes like this. In public, surrounded by strangers. Literally on the clock. He seriously needs to get his head checked for having such a whorish imagination.
The shoot ends shortly after that last pose, the one that rocked Eddie’s world. He closes his eyes for a minute, takes a few deep breaths. Tries to inhale some goddamn decency.
“How was it?” Steve heads his way, snaking his arms back into the bathrobe.
Eddie blinks hard. “It was… you were…” And the words stop. Nothing else comes out, his throat is strangled and bare.
Steve gives a soft laugh, nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow. “Guess you do better when there’s a script in front of you, huh?”
Oh. So he’s pretty and darkly playful? This is too good, too delicious.
Eddie wets his bottom lip, recovers quickly. “I do better when there’s not an earthbound angel in my presence.”
“Wow.” Steve raises both eyebrows. “That’s quite the compliment.”
“Oh come on - you must get compliments all the time.”
“Not like that one though.”
“No?”
Steve takes a step into Eddie’s space. “Definitely not.”
They just stare after that - mostly because it’s Eddie’s turn to speak but words are so secondary when there’s this much beauty to behold. Gazing becomes his top priority.
And before the conversation can lead to an exchange of last names or phone numbers, Steve is rushed off by his agent. Maybe his publicist. Maybe his mom, Eddie has no fucking clue. Just someone taking away his shiny new toy. He sort of feels like reenacting that scene in Cast Away when the volleyball drifts into the ocean. Be dramatic as all hell about this ending.
Eddie doesn’t actually jack off in his car, although he really wants to. No, he decides to use all of his adrenaline and pent-up hormones for the voice recording. It gives his vocals this strained, chesty sound. Sinful and corrupt. Cracking with emotion in certain spots, spiking the volume in all the right ways.
It might be too much, a little bit too suggestive for a lousy cologne advertisement.
But as he listens back, Eddie can’t help but picture Steve. Imagining snapshots of him from every angle, especially the unspeakable ones. The recording barely sounds like a script anymore. It almost sounds like Eddie whispering the lines directly into Steve’s ear. A dirty secret between them.
This is it, he thinks. Sends the audio file to his sound mixer without a second read-through, without a retake. This might be the best voiceover Eddie Munson has ever done.
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