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thewidowsledger · 2 months

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Looking Out For Three

Pairing: Avenger Natasha Romanoff x Agent Female Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: +18, Natasha has a penis (no smut though yet), pregnant reader, kinda gruesome details of organ taking/trafficking, self-destruction if you squint, angst, bad writing

Author's Note: This is a scheduled post; I just recently lost my cousin so I may not be able to be active here for some time but I’ll for sure check in once in a while. Happy reading! I hope you're all having a good time.

MINI SERIES: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

⧗

Natasha's eyes fell upon the woman's lower abdomen. Her stomach is slashed open, and the crimson depths reveal that something has been taken from within…

A baby, she could tell that it was a baby as the skin on the stomach of the woman was slightly stretched out and the umbilical cord splayed out on the bed.

A life that had just begun, now cruelly snuffed out.

Two lives cruelly snuffed out.

⧗

After Natasha had taken care of Strange, her focus immediately returned to you. Seeing your unconscious form, her heart broke as she frantically searched for something to cover your exposed stomach.

She found a blanket and tore it into a small piece and she gently draped it over your stomach, her hands trembling, staring at your wounded stomach. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at you, whispering words of apology.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, her voice choking with emotion. “I should've listened to you last night, if I knew you wouldn’t…you wouldn't…” Natasha gasped for air but still trying to hold back a sob, she finally looked at your face. She held your hands and pecked a kiss all over it.

“I could've lost you, detka. I can't let that happen…I’ll never forgive myself if I lost you.”

“Everything's going to be okay. You, me, and our baby,” she smiled at the thought, wiping some tears on her face, “We're going to be a happy family.”

Tony landed with a heavy thud, the suit's thrusters kicking up a cloud of dirt and debris. Bucky quickly joined him, eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. A doctor's body lying on the floor, unrecognizable as its face has a lot of holes in it.

He started to move towards you and Natasha, but Natasha's steely glare made him stop in his tracks.

Yelena tried to approach her sister and offered her help but Natasha ignored her as well. The expression on her face was cold and distant, her only priority was getting you to safety. She carried you in a bridal style and the rest of the team watched, unsure of what to do, as Natasha carried out of the room and started heading onto the Quinjet.

⧗

Steve and Tony spoke quietly to each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Tony couldn't provide any concrete answers, but he did share one unsettling detail. He projected a hologram display, showing the scans of the doctor's body. The bullet holes were highlighted in red, showing exactly where each of the 21 shots had landed. The lone bullet in the shoulder was also indicated by a separate red mark.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the tiny screen. “21 bullets to the head and one in the shoulder.”

The team winced as they took in the information, their gazes shifting to Natasha, who was still holding your hand in her lips.

Tony shrugged, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Hey, I'm not judging,” he said. “I've done my fair share of blasting people in the head too.”

The team started to look your way, their gazes shifting towards your unconscious body and Natasha, but then they quickly averted them when they saw Natasha glaring at them. They scrambled to look busy, trying to avoid her disapproving glare.

In an attempt to look as if they weren't just staring at your unconscious body and Natasha sitting close to you, Sam awkwardly broke the silence by pointing at the glassed windows of the Quinjet, “Wow, a bird.”

His words hung awkwardly in the air, only to be met with Natasha's continued glare and the team's collective facepalm at his failed attempt to diffuse the tension.

⧗

When the Quinjet landed on the compound, the team immediately got up and was welcomed by Clint as the door of the Quinjet slowly opened. He already knew what happened and he was on leave since Laura just gave birth to their third child.

He walked towards the bed where your unconscious body was laying.

“Hey Nat.”

She didn't answer, but as soon as Clint touched the bed to help her get you out the Quinjet Natasha swiftly pulled a gun and pointed it towards his head.

“Nat…” Clint called, the team became frozen in place at the sight.

“Don't touch her.” She said her voice was hoarse and shaky.

“Yes, I'm not touching her. I am touching the bed,” he offered a logical argument, his tone gentle as he tried to diffuse the situation. He immediately but slowly moved his hands away from the stretcher you were in and put them in the air where Natasha could see.

The room's tension rose even more as the team started calling her out.

“Romanoff.” Tony called in a warning.

“Natasha.” It sounded more authoritative coming from Maria.

“Natasha, calm down.” Steve’s voice joined the fray, calling out gently.

“Back down! No one gets to touch her!” Natasha furiously exclaimed.

Natasha's grip on her gun tightened further, she pushed the tip of the gun on the back of Clint’s head, her eyes beginning to well up with tears.

A ripple of tension ran through the group everytime Natasha spoke. The atmosphere in the room immediately grew heavy, and the team members instinctively also tightened their grip on their own weapons.

“No one’s gonna hurt Y/N, Nat…please.” Clint reassured pleadingly.

“Shut the fuck up!”

And with that a loud thud echoed through the Quinjet with Natasha’s unconscious body laying on the floor. Yelena, her sister sulking at the corner with her hands clenched into fists pointed towards where Natasha was and her widow's bite smoking.

“Izvini, sestra.” (Sorry, sister)

⧗

Dr. Cho launched into her report, clearly concerned about the oversight. Wanda, Steve and Bruce were in the medbay with you.

“So no one noticed the bleeding on her head?” the doctor repeated incredulously. The room fell silent for a moment, and then Steve spoke up.

“Natasha wouldn’t let us near her.”

“Yeah,” Bruce confirmed, “She came before the team, I prepped the stretcher and she immediately snatched it away from me, not even letting me help her.”

Wanda clenched her jaw in frustration, her eyes narrowing as she listened to the two about what happened. She couldn't help but feel annoyed and frustrated with Natasha's behavior, which had led to your current situation. If Natasha had just been a little more cooperative and let the team help her help you, you would've been fine and awake by now. Instead, you were lying unconscious in the medbay, not sure when you're going to wake up.

“And no one knew that she's pregnant?” Dr. Cho added that made the three wince in guilt, how could they not notice? You live in the same place for god's sake, in the same compound.

Wanda was particularly hard on herself, her face filled with guilt. She’s your best friend and you two had spent so much time together, she felt ashamed that she didn’t notice anything different about you, especially since the two of you are inseparable when Natasha was away for 2 months.

You always had a morning walk together, gets to shop together, you two always watched sitcoms together and trained together. Wanda could only remember a moment when she had accidentally hit you in the abdomen during combat training, and you had collapsed on the floor laughing at the witch. You were for sure pregnant at that time and Wanda could only wince at the memory hoping that hit didn't affect her growing niece at your stomach

And the fact that she covered up for you made her want to let the ground eat her, what if she just let JARVIS figure out that it was you who was pregnant? This wouldn't have happened to you…

“Don't worry, Y/N is stable" the doctor said reassuringly, “and she should wake up at any moment. However, we can't say for sure when that will be.”

She looked around the room, meeting the worried gazes of the team members who's nodding at her words.

“I’ll get her an ultrasound later which should give us more accurate information. For now let's give her body a break. And I need Romanoff here as soon as possible.”

⧗

Natasha tossed and turned in her sleep, distress written all over her face. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat at the bed, she took the place in where she was; it was your shared bedroom. She can feel her brain pounding inside her skull but still, she immediately got off the bed as the first thing she thought was you, she found herself frantically walking down a dimly lit hallway, approaching a closed door at its end.

As she neared the closed door, she noticed a soft glow and a bed with a woman laid out on it, bathed in a dim light. The sight invoked a pang of uneasiness in her, but she couldn’t shake the compulsion to get closer.

Natasha continued walking, drawn to the woman on the bed like a magnet. Each step seemed to echo loudly in the silent hallway, but she pushed onward until she was near the bed.

With a heavy heart, Natasha makes her way to the bedside of a woman who lies there lifeless and unseeing. Her eyes, hollow sockets staring into nothingness…

Her eyes scanned the woman's body, taking in every detail of the horror.

The ribcage splayed open like a grotesque butterfly…

The heart and lungs are missing, leaving a gaping hole…

Natasha's eyes fell upon the woman's lower abdomen. Her stomach is slashed open, and the crimson depths reveal that something has been taken from within…

A baby, she could tell that it was a baby as the skin on the stomach of the woman was slightly stretched out and the umbilical cord splayed out on the bed.

A life that had just begun, now cruelly snuffed out.

Two lives cruelly snuffed out.

The redhead's gaze lingers on the woman's lifeless hand, before her eyes widen in horror. She recognizes that hand, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she starts to panic.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she spots a manila folder beside the bed, within her grasp. With trembling hands, she snatches it up and flips it open, gasping as she scrolls through the contents.

“Y/N Y/L/N”

Natasha gasped in horror, she flips open the file, page after page of personal information and photographs spill out of the folder, painting a detailed portrait of your face and body. Each page she turns reveals more information about you, and with each turn, her heart drops further into the pit of her stomach.

This body that is lying in front of her with no eyes, ribcage splayed open, heart and lungs missing, stomach slashed open and a baby taken out of it…

Is your body and your child. Her child.

“No…”

“No, no, no,” she gasped, “Fuck no!” She threw the folder away and your body was already gone in the bed.

She immediately shot her head around when she heard a faint cry of a baby, but as soon as she turned she saw a shadow of a woman carrying a baby.

She knows it was you only by its figure…

Your voice reached her ears, filled with desperation as you called out to her.

“Natty, love? Can we talk?”

“Help us, Natasha.”

“Natasha, please talk to me.”

“Natasha!”

“Natasha! Wake up!”

“No!”

Natasha jolted awake, the loud call of her name immediately took her away from the depths of her dream. She panicked as she found herself surrounded by the darkness of your shared bedroom. Clint was holding her and she immediately ripped herself away from him, her movements sharp and agitated.

“Hey,” Clint's voice was gentle, a calming presence amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “Natasha, breathe,” he urged, his hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder but Natasha flinched, “You’re okay, everything is fine.”

“Where's Y/N?” Natasha demanded, her voice husky and rushed as she moved away from the bed ignoring her best friend's concern for her because clearly, nothing is fine.

“Nat,” Clint circled the bed to get to Natasha and she immediately got into defensive form.

“Are we really gonna do this again?” He asked, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And that's when the memories came rushing back, flooding her senses with a torrent of emotions. She remembered the weight of her gun in her hand, the cold metal pressed against the back of her best friend's head and the team trying to calm her down. The last thing she saw was your stretcher above her.

Natasha's breath hitched as the memories overwhelmed her, and she felt her legs buckle under her. She reached out to grab onto the bed, her legs weak and unsteady. She had come dangerously close to losing it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Natasha's voice shook as she apologized over and over again, her eyes filling with tears as she felt the weight of her emotions bearing down on her. She felt Clint's arms wrap around her once more, pulling her into a gentle embrace.

He tightened his grip on her, feeling the tremor that ran through her body. “Shh,” he whispered, rubbing small circles on her back with his hand. “It’s okay. You're fine, Nat. You're safe here.”

Natasha nodded, taking a deep shuddering breath as she tried to collect herself. “Where's Y/N?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Clint, where is she? I need to see her.” Her eyes pleaded with him, searching for answers.

Clint could see the desperation in her gaze and knew exactly what she needed, you.

“You'll see her alright?” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “But right now I need you to rest.”

Natasha was about to refuse, she needs to see you now, but she knew better than to fight with her best friend. She needed to rest, to get her strength back before she gets to see you again. She nodded weakly, allowing Clint to help her up.

“You shower, get some fresh clothes and I’ll have some food over. After that you can see your girlfriend.”

⧗

Natasha worked diligently, her eyes alight with a soft and caring glow as she arranged everything on the bed. She had brought out all of your favorite blankets, each one softer and more comforting than the last. Her eyes landed on the strawberry plush, and her lips curved into a soft smile. She remembered how you had squealed with delight when she had won it for you at the basketball booth at a carnival.

“Hey Nat, you ready to go? Dr. Cho is waiting for you.”

Natasha startled at the sudden interruption, blinking as she tried to shake off her thoughts. “Oh, uh, yeah,” she said, her voice a little softer than usual. “Did she ask me to bring something? Does she want anything? Food? How's Y/N?” Natasha continuously asked as she put the blanket and pillow on a bag.

But Clint only muttered, “C’mon,” not wanting to break the news himself to her best friend. He’ll let Dr. Cho do the job on answering that.

Natasha felt her heart beat faster with each step as she and Clint made their way to the Medbay. She could feel her hands trembling, but she clenched them into fists at her sides, trying to keep her composure. As soon as she entered the medbay, she saw Dr. Cho and Wanda by your bedside. Her eyes immediately went to your unconscious form on the bed, her worry deepening. Why aren't you awake yet?

She felt Wanda's intense gaze on her and Natasha immediately put her face away from her direction, gripping the bag she brought. She couldn't shake off the feeling of discomfort of the witch’s presence.

Dr. Cho, as if reading the room, asked Wanda and Clint to give them privacy.

When the two left the medbay, Natasha finally allowed herself to breathe. The witch's intense gaze had made her uneasy, adding to her worry about you. She let out a long sigh of relief as the doors closed behind them, leaving her alone with Dr. Cho.

“How are you feeling, Romanoff?” Dr. Cho started.

“I’m fine. How is she?” Natasha immediately asked as she put the bag down at the side table of your bed.

Natasha's eyes lingered on your unconscious form, she carefully held your hands and a sudden flash of her dream returned to her mind.

Your body lying in front of her with no eyes, ribcage splayed open, heart and lungs missing, stomach slashed open and your baby taken out of it…

She immediately shut her eyes to remove the thought in her head, the urgency she felt in the dream now mirrored in the real world.

“Romanoff.”

Natasha's gaze snapped to Dr. Cho at the sound of her name, quickly trying to mask her panic with a cool, calm expression. She took a deep breath, her voice coming out steady and collected, “Yeah? H-how is she?” she asked once again.

“Y/N suffered a blow to the head, causing significant trauma. There's no way to predict when she'll regain consciousness...”

Natasha's brow pinched at Dr. Cho's words. The idea of you being unconscious, possibly for an extended period of time, weighed heavily on her. She searched for more information, “Are you saying she's in a coma?”

“A light one.” The doctor pointed out, correcting her.

“And the baby?”

Natasha's gaze shifted from your face and to the printed ultrasound image Dr. Cho handed her, she shakily reached out to get it and her other hand never leaving yours. Her features softened as she took in the small, blurred figure on the paper. “So that's our little one?” she murmurs, a touch of awe in her voice.

Dr. Cho nodded, smiling gently at Natasha's reaction. “Yes, that is your baby at 12 weeks. As you can see, the limbs are well-formed and the baby's major organs have started to develop…”

“Oh look at that! That's your baby Romanoff!”

“Romanoff, your baby is healthy and developing just like it should. All the organs, muscles, limbs and bones are in place.”

Natasha winced as Dr. Cho pointed out the tiny head, spine, and other features of the developing fetus to her, explaining that these details were visible at this stage of pregnancy. Natasha tries her best to listen attentively, but the memories are trying to get back in her head.

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

“You didn't know until now did you?”

“Oh, that's a shame.”

“You are a bad mother.”

“Romanoff, are you sure you're alright?” Dr. Cho asked, worry written all over her face as she noticed Natasha drifting off once again.

“Yeah,” she answered dismissively, “There's uhm uhh…a cut on her stomach—”

“It's all patched up now.” The doctor said reassuringly, not letting her finish.

“Can I uhm…can I have some time with Y/N alone?”

“Of course, whatever you need. I’ll leave you two now.” Dr. Cho tapped Natasha's shoulder for comfort as she retreated to the medbay.

Natasha swallowed thickly, her throat constricting as she finally, finally felt like she could breathe freely. It was just the two of you now and that's what she needed. The machines beeping in the background seemed to fade into the distance as Natasha's gaze locked onto your unconscious form.

She was acutely aware of the soft rise and fall of your chest as you slept, the gentle curve of your belly where your little bean settled.

“Detka, I need you to wake up now…” she said as she gently removed the blanket you had and replaced it with the ones she brought, which is your favorite one. She now pulled the strawberry plush and laid it beside your pillow.

“I need you to wake up so I can make it up to you.” Natasha gently brushed a strand of hair from your forehead.

A single tear slipped down her cheek as Natasha brought your hands to her lips, pressing a tender kiss before resting it gently on her cheek. She closed her eyes, taking in the warmth of your skin against hers before falling into slumber.

⧗

You slowly blinked your eyes open, your senses still groggy from whatever they put or injected in your body. Your left hand was wrapped around by a figure, holding it close as they slept sitting up right next to you on the bed.

Your right hand snatched the nasal cannula out of your nose and the IV lines that are connected to your forearm. Slowly, you pulled your left hand out of the tight hold of the figure sleeping beside your bed. You started to breathe hard, finding some support for you to stand up.

Natasha's eyes snapped open as she felt the bed movements and the warm hand she's holding is now out of her grasp.

“Baby? Hey…”

She felt alarmed hearing the machine beeping continuously and the oxygen out of you. You snatched everything that is connected to your body and now slowly moving away from the bed.

“Detka,” she called again, holding her hands out even though it's your back facing her.

But you didn't hear, there’s this loud thumping in your ears, you can feel as if someone is hammering your head, and the only thing you can see is a blur. Nothing is clear and you’re feeling numb.

You continued to move until your feet felt the cold tiled floor and that's when you lost consciousness for a second. You can only feel a warm body catching you, you locked eyes with the emerald ones before you feel your body taken out from her embrace.

⧗

Natasha paced back and forth outside the medbay, her mind racing as she waited for word about you. She was still reeling from the events that had led to this moment, and she couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that had settled into her bones.

“You deserve it.” Wanda’s words cutting through the air like a knife. “You're the reason why she's there.”

“Whatever is happening to you right now, you deserve it.” She spat, Natasha now sat outside the medbay, her hands over her head as she faced the floor. “I am one blink away from invading your mind, to see what happened but I respect Y/N so much. You deserve everything that you feel right now, every guilt and shame. You deserve what's happening to you but my best friend doesn't deserve to be there!”

She could only bite her cheek, shutting her eyes as if she's not hearing the witch, but she could feel the heat of Wanda's words as they washed over her, stinging like a slap in the face.

Natasha and Wanda both turned their attention to Bruce as he stepped out of the medbay, the tension between them dissipating in an instant. Wanda took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and Natasha immediately stood, her heart thumping on her chest wanting to hear about your condition.

“How is she?” The two redheads asked in unison, Wanda can only roll her eyes.

“She's awake now.”

Wanda didn't waste a second moving inside the medbay, walking past Natasha and Bruce.

“She's stable for now,” Dr. Cho informed Natasha who was left outside the medbay, “she just disassociated when she woke up earlier.”

Natasha nodded peeking over the doctor’s shoulder to get a sight of you but she can only see Wanda sitting beside your bed.

“Hey…how are you lyubov?” Wanda asked her fingers grazing yours.

“I feel weak,” you mumbled but gave the witch a soft smile, you managed to hold her hand that made Wanda sob. “Hey, I’m fine Wanda.”

She held your hand tightly and brought it to her cheek, “You should be, you really should be.” You hummed as you wiped the tears that streamed down to her face.

Natasha stood just outside the medbay entrance, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched you and Wanda interact. Your eyes flick towards her and you can read her lips muttering, “Hey,” to you.

“I want to rest for a bit.” You said, immediately avoiding Natasha and the witch noticed the tension between you and your girlfriend.

“Sure.” Wanda was about to stand to leave when you held your hands up, “Stay, Wanda. Please.”

Natasha could read the situation clearly, you didn't want her around. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut because all she wanted to do is to hold you and pepper you with kisses, take care of you. But she did notice what you want and it's not her, so she respectfully stepped back, retreating out of the medbay. The coldness in her chest had deepened into an ache, but she pushed it down as she always did.

For now, she’ll give you what you need but she will never stop trying and making it up to you.

⧗

Dr. Cho informed Natasha that you are now discharged and can leave the medbay anytime soon.

Right now, she's supposed to be sitting right next to you, apologizing or…begging for forgiveness, peppering you with kisses or cuddling you. But instead here she is walking alone to your shared room. Natasha had held back her tears as she walked towards the room, but the moment she stepped inside, the floodgates opened. She couldn't hold back any longer. She let out a choked sob and collapsed onto the floor, burying her face in her hands.

Suddenly, Natasha surged to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. She couldn't contain her anger and frustration to herself any longer. With a roar of rage, she began to pummel the walls of the room, punching it with all her strength.

Eventually, Natasha's frenzy subsided, and she steadied herself against the wall, forehead resting against its cool surface. Natasha took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes and imagined herself in your embrace, feeling your arms wrapped around her, holding her down and keeping her grounded like you always do.

“You cannot be like this,” She whispered to herself. “You have a wife and a baby on the way to look up to. You cannot…you cannot be like this.” She repeated, as if trying to drill the words into her own brain.

Natasha slowly turned back, surveying the room with keen and puffy eyes. Without hesitation, she removed her jacket and top revealing her gray sports bra and started deep cleaning everything. Something that will occupy her for a while besides she doesn't want you to come back here with a messy and dirty room, though you always make sure that your shared bedroom is clean, both of you have tasks on what to do, on who's gonna do this or that, clean this or that. Actually it's you who gave her tasks, Natasha can be careless and a messy person at times but with you, it all changed.

Natasha started to take off the cover of the pillows and replaced them with fresh, clean ones from the closet. She then moved onto the bed sheets, pulling off the used ones.

After that Natasha moved to the bathroom, checking every corner, she pulled out the trash and some stuff scattered at the counter. When she opened the cabinet she was welcomed by a pregnancy test, not just one but three tests with two lines showing in each one.

Natasha picked the three, studying each one carefully before setting it back down again at the counter. She wondered if this was the thing you wanted to talk about before the mission. She clenched her jaw remembering how she treated you that night.

A call on the door pulled Natasha out of her thoughts. She retreated from the bathroom, taking a deep breath before opening it to reveal Clint standing on the other side.

“Hey, here's the flower you asked me to get.”

Natasha smiled as she took in the sight of the beautiful bouquet that Clint had brought for you. “I know you asked me to buy roses, the pink ones which is Y/N’s favorite but I saw these chrysanthemums and carnations. I bought this for Laura when she was pregnant with our Nathaniel. You should avoid-strong smelling flowers. Y/N’s sense of smell might be a little bit sensitive now.” Natasha listened intently as she had seen how Clint handled being a father of three. How he was able to protect her family while being an Avenger so might as well take her best friend’s every advice.

“You might wanna do some research. It's gonna be a lot but I know you two can do it.” She nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Clint.”

“Mood swings, Nat,” Clint chuckled as she warned Natasha, “It's gon’ be a hell of a ride.”

“Oh yeah it is, even though she wasn't pregnant yet it was a rollercoaster already.” She smirked remembering how she handled your mood swings during the course of your relationship.

“Oh Nat, now it's gonna be a whole new level.”

After a few more words of farewell, Natasha went back inside the room, and placed the flowers gently in a vase beside your shared bed. She filled the vase with water from the bathroom sink, letting it flow over each bloom as she arranged them.

Natasha settled on the couch after putting back the vase beside the bed. She put on some headphones as she lost herself to some music. An automatic vacuum hummed quietly in the background, gliding smoothly over the floor and picking up any debris.

Natasha indeed took Clint's advice, she was reading and researching about the changes that were happening to your body and what to expect during the course of the pregnancy. You're now in your 12th week and she read that during week 12 of pregnancy you’re wrapping up your first trimester and the odds of miscarriage are highest in the first trimester.

She took notes and made a mental list of things to expect.

“Your baby is only as big as a passion fruit but is growing and developing.” Natasha read to herself.

“Baby bump’s first appearance depending on the body type, food cravings, weird food cravings,” Natasha murmured, she continued, “Dizziness, mood swings, sore breast, heightened sense of smell,” She hummed, remembering her best friend's advice about sensitivity of your smell.

Natasha did a double-take as she read the last item on the list.

“Spike in sex drive?”

A knock on the door interrupted her researching and reading and she quickly put her headphones down, turning her attention towards the entrance.

She opened the door to see you standing there, a strawberry plush in your hand, and Bruce behind you carrying the bag of blankets she brought in the medbay. Her eyes widened slightly but she quickly composed herself, her expression softening as she took in your face, “Hey.”

You took in the sight of Natasha, your mind being in a haze. She is dressed in a gray sports bra and matching sweatpants, headphones clinging on her neck. Her arms were flexed like always and you could see the details of beads of sweat on her defined abs. Your breath hitched in your throat.

Natasha, noticing your gaze on her, quickly took the bag from Bruce. You walked past her already and went inside the bedroom.

“Dr. Cho will check in on her periodically.” Bruce informed the redhead.

“Thanks, Bruce.”

You sat at the bed slowly, noticing the new sheets of the bed and the flowers, the smell of it invading your nostrils. You caress the softness of the sheet while the strawberry plush sat on your thighs.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” Natasha asked as she closed the door. She put the bag down where you put your dirty laundry.

“Baby?” She called again, “You know you can't avoid me forever.”

“Yeah, like you did me the other night?” you replied with a dry tone.

A heavy silence fell between the two of you and Natasha bit her lower lip in contemplation. Without hesitation, she immediately removed the headphones from her neck and walked in your direction. She gently knelt in front of you, placing the plush beside you as she took both of your hands in hers. Her bright green eyes searched for yours.

“Baby,” she began, her voice gentle and soothing. “I'm sorry.” She paused, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “Please, I was out of my mind that night,” her voice is becoming shaky this time. “It was the stupidest thing I ever did,” she continued, the regret evident in her expression. She swallowed hard, squeezing your hands gently. “Please, forgive me detka? I promise it won't happen again. I’ll take care of you, cook for you, buy you gifts, whatever you want baby, just—just forgive me.”

You actually stopped listening when she said “I’m sorry” all you could focus on was her arms untensing and tensing with each movement of her hands gently gripping your own. And the smell of the flowers were now gone as your girlfriend’s cologne, which was your favorite cologne of hers, started to envelop your senses. You don't know why you're being like this.

Natasha watched as you yawned, “I'm sleepy,” you slur.

“I uhh…alright baby,” She immediately let go of your hands and stood up, hesitating for a moment. She gently guides you as you lay down to your shared bed, putting the comforter all over your body and handing you the strawberry plush.

“Sleep tight detka, I’ll be here,” to her surprise, you hummed in response as you snuggled the strawberry plush close to you, a small sound that filled the air between the two of you and it made Natasha's heart jump. She took that as a good sign and she will for sure do anything to earn your forgiveness.

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emchant3d · 4 months

Text

siren steve and pirate eddie, part 2 pt 1

Steve heals slowly.

He’s irritable and restless, bedridden, and he doesn’t have the strength in his injured tail to support himself if he were to be tossed back into the ocean.

The crew helps him to the deck for a change of scenery and some sunshine - he seems more settled when he can hear the waves and feel the sun on his skin. He’s less snappish, at least, those sharp teeth tucked away behind his pink lips instead of bared in Eddie’s direction.

Eddie had panicked briefly about how much saltwater Steve needs, and he’d rolled his eyes at him. “Keep it near and I’ll be fine,” he tells him. “Half human remember?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “but the fish part is looking a little dry, sweetheart.”

Steve slaps him with a tail fin.

He finds himself spending most days with the Mer. Part of it is pure fascination - it’s difficult to not want to spend time around a story come to life. And if he neglects his duties as Captain a little, well - that’s what his crew is for.

Slowly, he pulls more from Steve. He finds out what caused his injuries - “the deep holds a lot of creatures that like the taste of Mer,” he tells him. “I swam right into a nest. By the time I realized, they already had me by the throat and were dragging me to the seabed.”

“Gods,” Eddie murmurs, and Steve hums in agreement. “Evil little things. Razor sharp claws and teeth, and their tails are like whips. They move in schools, so if there’s one, there’s dozens others.”

He speaks of these kinds of creatures so casually, monsters that have worked their way into human lore and others that are unknown to them, but the idea of them still makes Eddie’s skin crawl.

It’s like Steve has a sixth sense for his discomfort. He’s lounging in a long basin Freak and Jeff put together, a shallow amount of salt water in it to keep him comfortable, and he rolls his head to the side, peering up at Eddie.

“They probably wouldn’t turn down a human, either,” he muses, dragging those unnervingly deep eyes up and down him, “but your little lungs wouldn’t survive that deep down, so you’re probably fine.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Eddie snorts, and Steve breaks into a laugh.

As friendly as they’re becoming, Eddie knows Steve still doesn’t fully trust him. He’s excellent at reading people - he knows when someone is keeping secrets, and Steve is locked tight.

He doesn’t blame him. He knows it’s difficult to believe Eddie’s help doesn’t come with strings, and he catches Steve watching him and his crew sometimes, tense and on edge as if he’s waiting for someone to lash out at him.

Eddie hates it. But he doesn’t know how to settle him, not fully, and so maybe the solution is to craft those strings he’s looking so hard to find. Let him find what he’s looking for, but show him that they aren’t as bad as he’s built them up to be in that pretty head of his.

“So what other gifts are you blessed with, Highness?” he asks one cloudy day, the sky gloomy and overcast. A little rain won’t hurt them, but he’s hoping the darker clouds on the horizon will dissipate before they reach them and upend a true storm.

“Divination,” Steve says like he’s bored, and Eddie’s head whips around to stare at him. Steve holds his gaze, his own a little hooded, and he yawns softly.

“What,” Eddie asks flatly. Steve waves a hand dismissively.

“Just about the ocean,” he says, like that isn’t still one of the most incredible things Eddie’s ever heard. “I can tell when danger’s near. When something isn’t quite right. Whole lot of good it did me,” he snorts, glancing down at his scarred torso.

The bandages have been removed, and pink skin is healing slowly where there used to be gaping wounds. His tail is faring much the same, scales missing from where he’d been bitten and ripped at, but the new flesh is beginning to blend in with the bright shades of his lower half.

“Everything was dangerous down there, I just tried to pick the safest option. I’m still pretty sure I chose right.” Eddie frowns. “You were almost eaten alive,” he says, can’t help it, and Steve cuts him a lazy smile.

“Almost,” he repeats, and Eddie supposes that’s an answer.

He takes a breath, calms his heart, and tries to act like the Captain he is. “So, if you stuck around, you’d be able to tell me what I’m heading towards.” Steve closes his eyes and lets his head hang back, arms resting on the sides of the basin.

“Yes.” A cloud sweeps over them, blocking the sun from shining on Steve’s face, casting him in shadows. “I could tell you if you were sailing into an ambush, or if the waters were acting up, or any number of other useful little tips that could keep you and your crew alive.”

“You’ve thought about this,” he says, and Steve snorts.

“Of course I have. I have no home. No family. Going alone almost got me killed. I’m pretty but I’m not dumb, Eddie.” He opens his eyes, fixing his gaze onto Eddie’s. “So how about we make a deal?” he offers, and Eddie grins.

It’s an easy negotiation. Steve wants freedom. He wants to see the world. And he wants safety while he does it. Eddie wants an advantage, wants to keep his crew safe, wants them to thrive in this difficult life they’ve chosen.

They shake on it. Steve moves lightning fast as their hands meet, a sharp claw nicking his own palm and then Eddie’s, making him hiss.

“Fuck–” he grunts. A burning sensation shoots through him from hand to chest, fire hot and searing. He gasps, fingers locked around Steve’s, who stares at him impassively. “What…?”

“You’ve made an oath with a Mer,” Steve says simply. “You’ll be held to your word, Captain Munson.”

Eddie pulls his hand away and looks at his palm.

A black mark surrounds the cut from Steve’s claw, a swirling spiral that snakes from the center of his palm in three little loops. Steve holds his hand out without being asked, showing the matching mark on his own skin.

Eddie’s no stranger to ink and tattoos, but this is decidedly different. It hums with an ancient kind of magic, a connection that he doesn’t - can’t - understand. Something unnameable settles into his bones.

This is a test, he realizes. Or maybe it’s insurance. Either way, it’s something Steve felt necessary to take Eddie at his word, and so he won’t ask questions - not yet, at least.

“Well, I’ve had worse deals, I guess,” he says, and when he meets Steve’s eyes again, some of the caution has seeped out of them.

Eddie’s sure there’s more to be found out about this creature in front of him, but contrary to popular belief, he can be patient when it counts.

For now he’ll take what he’s offered - a wary friendship. A slow-growing understanding. And a certain type of care, of gentleness, that curls warm within him and grows with every smile and soft look that Steve throws his way.

part 3 coming soon 💕 no tag lists, sorry!

#steddie #mermay #merman steve harrington #siren steve harrington #pirate eddie munson #steddie fic #steve/eddie #stevexeddie #mine

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holylulusworld · 5 days

Text

Sewer rat (2)

Summary: He broke your heart. Now he must pay for it.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, former Mobster!Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, scared reader, Bucky is scary as shit, mentions of a breakup

Sewer Rat (1)

Sewer rat masterlist

Prey. That’s what you are to James Buchanan Barnes. Well, at least you’re not a sewer rat to him. As long as your information is useful to him, you’re safe.

For how long, you don’t know. He’s, just like Tony, a cold-hearted man unable to feel compassion or love. Sadly, you realized too late that Tony Stark could never love you.

“Let me get this straight. Tony threw you out with nothing but a towel. Still, you got this.” Bucky holds up the little black book. “How did you manage to steal his black book in only a towel?”

“My bathrobe,” your voice cracks, and you drop your gaze. “Did you not wonder why I fought tooth and nail to get my bathrobe, not a pretty dress or at least shoes?” You lift your head to look Bucky straight in the eyes. “The moment Tony Stark stepped into my life, I knew it was too good to be true. Whirlwind romances and men fulfilling your every wish always come with a catch.”

“You hid the black book in the bathrobe, didn’t you?” Steve smirks. He’s impressed you thought about hiding something so valuable for hard times.

“In the first months, I was on cloud number nine, but the façade crumbled. I slowly realized that Tony is not the man he loves to pretend he is. I didn’t think he’d treat me like he did last night.”

“How did you get your hands on his black book?” Bucky is still not convinced you are telling the truth.

“He’s sleepy after—” You bite your tongue and look away. “You know, sex. I couldn’t sleep and got up to get some water. I saw his little black book and phone lying abandoned on the kitchen counter. He was so eager to fuck me in the kitchen, he forgot about it.”

Bucky clears his throat. He shudders; imagining Tony and you going at it is the last thing he wants to think about. “Go ahead, tell us everything.”

“I knew Tony had lots of these black books. He uses them for notes. I sneaked into his office and stole a new one,” you lick your lips as Bucky opens the black book to check on the first names. “That night, I copied the book, writing every contact and code word down. When I came back to the bedroom, Tony was awake. I didn’t get the chance to hide the book somewhere else but in the pocket of my bathrobe.”

“Smart girl,” Steve praises. “This probably saved your life. We are not the kind of people protecting others for free.”

“I know,” you wrinkle your nose. “If you’re not useful, you can rot in hell.” You chuckle humorlessly. “I’m not delusional nor blinded by my undying love for Tony. He showed his true colors, and all I got left is the little book in your hands and all the things I memorized to help you bring his business down.”

“I will check on the information. If you tried to trick me, the things Tony said and did to you will be a pleasant memory.” Bucky’s features darken for a moment. “Steve, ensure she gets food and show her the way to the guestroom.”

“Please come with me.” Steve holds his hand for you. You look at his large hand but refuse to take it. So far, they haven’t proven to be better than Tony. “Alright.” Steve shows his palms. “You don’t trust me. That’s fair. We don’t trust you either.”

Slowly getting up, take a deep breath. Bucky is still reading the names in the little black book. You only hope he won’t betray you too after you hand the only leverage you hold over Tony.

“The information is gold,” Jake grins while explaining every little detail he found out about the people on Tony Stark’s payroll. “He pays cops, politicians, civil servants, and prostitutes,” he laughs. “Man, even taxi driver. That man seems to be obsessed with staying informed.”

“We will start with the less powerful people. The taxi driver he pays,” Bucky points at a name in the black book. “We will talk to him first. Make sure he knows if he fucks with me, he’ll die.”

“Got it, boss,” Rumlow hums. “Do you want him in one piece, or can I rough him up a little?” He smirks at Bucky.

“We don’t want him to shit his pants yet. Bucky wants to talk to him, not scare the shit out of him. Maybe it’s enough to offer more money than Stark to him,” Steve huffs when Rumlow gets a knife out, grinning. “No violence before we tell you so.”

You’re starving. Until now, you didn’t know you were hungry. It’s been hours since Tony kicked you out of his house and life. It feels odd to give in to a primal need while your heart still lies in shambles, shattered on the ground.

“Good, isn’t it?” Bucky sits down on a chair at the kitchen counter next to you. He looks at the sandwich his cook made for you. “I hope they made something you’ll like for you.”

“I’m not picky,” you murmur before taking another bite. Bucky’s presence in the kitchen can mean two things. Your information is valuable to him, or he wants to kick you out too.

“You know,” he leans closer to steal a pickle from your plate. “I saw you at one of his parties a few months back. You helped a waitress pick up glasses after another guest bumped into her. I knew that you were different at that moment.”

“People are rude; the world too. This doesn’t mean I have to be rude too,” you sniff. “Maybe when it comes to Stark. He deserves to catch hell.”

“That guy,” Bucky steals another pickle from your plate. “Your friend. Do you think he was involved in this shitshow? I mean, he comes back to town to marry and wants to meet up with you out of a sudden.”

“If you already know all the answers, why ask questions?” You muse. “I guess he was paid to get me in trouble. I just don’t know who is behind this conspiracy and why anyone wanted Tony and me apart.”

“We will find out,” he says, eyeing the second half of your sandwich. “Your information was correct. So far. We will see if you are as valuable as you believe you are.”

“I’m not, but this,” you tip your forehead. “I memorized every shady deal and name. Whatever you want to know about his organization.”

“Jake, my smart little tech nerd, is working on finding out more about your friend and his involvement in all of this. If you are helping me, I’m helping you.”

“Quit pro quo, Mr. Barnes,” you reply, and hold out your hand.

“Quit pro quo, doll,” he says, and grabs your hand, making you squeak. "But,” he leans closer to whisper in your ear, “if you try to trick me or fuck me over, you’ll end up six feet under.”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #mafia au #mobster!bucky barnes #Sewer rat (2)

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luveline · 8 months

Note

i love dad au’s! what about kbd!steve feeling a little overwhelmed and accidentally snapping and it startles one of the girls? like dove walking in their bedroom when you’re trying to calm him down. love your work❤️

thank u for requesting!! mom!reader, 1.1k

A hard knock on the door startles you. You don’t think one of the girls could emit so much force, so you assume it to be your husband. “Yeah, babe, I’m getting dressed.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” you say, not worried, but not not worried. Nobody ever likes hearing that phrase without a quick follow up. You pull your pants over damp legs and leave the towel around your shoulders to catch any run off, opening the door for Steve where he waits on the other side. He looks strange; he’s not smiling. You go to touch his face and he ducks away from your touch.

“Steve, what?” you ask, confused.

He peels away into the bedroom. You follow quickly. You want to close the door but think better of it —Dove is in her room with a faulty baby monitor.

“I need more help,” he says tightly.

“Okay. With what?”

“No, that’s the problem. I can’t keep telling you everything.”

He sounds so angry so suddenly, it isn’t like him. You fight the urge to be defensive, and then the want to cry, holding out one of your hands to him in the universal gesture for calm down. “Okay. I’m sorry. Just give me some leeway, okay? Because the thing that you’re mad about right now has been stewing with you for ages, but this is the first I’ve heard about it.”

He sits down hard on the end of the bed. You stand there for a few seconds, tense, but you really, really love him. You get down onto your knees and look up into his face, clasping your hand loosely around his ankle. “I’m sorry, H. Please don’t be angry with me yet.”

“I’m not angry with you, I just need more help this week and you haven’t noticed, and that pissed me off.”

“You think maybe I didn’t notice ‘cos I had all that stupid work stuff to do?” you ask gently. It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to be calm right now, but you’re trying because it’s you and Steve. He deserves your effort more than anyone else in the world, especially now that he’s telling you he needs it. “What do you want my help with, honey? I’ll only make you tell me once.”

“But why do I have to tell you once?” he asks.

“Because I’m busy too.”

He shakes his head. “That pisses me off, though. We’re both busy, we’re both struggling, but I’m the one who ends up picking up the slack.”

“I’m sure it feels that way for you,” you say, trying to be patient, pretty close to losing it, “but I’ve been doing a lot this week. I have.”

He looks disgusted for a moment, just a split second, and you’re so worried he’s aiming that disgust at you that you duck your chin, eyes clouding with hurt.

“Sorry,” he says. He covers his eyes with the back of his hand, pitch rising with emotion. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Honey,” you murmur, rubbing his thigh. He curls into himself, and you might not see it often but you know what he looks like when he’s going to cry. “Sweetheart, please don’t be upset.”

“I’m being mean,” he says.

“No you’re not! You’re not being mean at all, you’re asking for help, and you’re telling me how you feel, that’s not mean, that’s the right thing to do, even if you’re angry.” You try to catch his gaze. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I know how much you do. I should’ve noticed, even if I’m busy. That’s not okay of me. I promise I’ll do better now you’ve told me. Won’t make you tell me again.”

He sighs as the first awful tear breaks from his lashes. “I think I’m really tired,” he says, half laugh and half sob.

You encourage him into a bendy hug. He’s boiling hot under your hands, sniffling as you rub a line up and down his back. “I’m sorry. It’s not fair that you feel like this. I’m supposed to look after you,” you murmur.

“I don’t even care that you’re not helping as much as I need you to,” he admits, “I’m just so tired.”

“Why don’t you lie down? You don’t have to suffer in silence, baby. You told me how you feel and now I’m gonna pull my socks up and take care of you.” He shudders with tears.

“Dad?” Dove asks worriedly.

She’s standing in the doorway with her empty bottle in her hand, which she drops.

Steve immediately wipes his face but it’s no use, she’s seen he’s upset already, and she doesn’t like the look of it. Her eyes fill with tears, staring at him in shock.

“Oh, Dove, don’t cry,” he says. His own surprise prompts another tear to roll down his cheek.

“Daddy,” she says, looking at you like you can fix it.

“Come here, dad,” you say showfully, pulling at his face as you reach up from your kneeling to kiss his damp cheeks. “Don’t be upset! Let me kiss it better.”

He cups the back of your neck and lets you kiss him all over. “Thank you, angel. Thank you, I feel better already.”

Your kisses are sincere, if a little for show. You wipe his cheeks dry with your thumbs as you go, and take a hand through his hair as you lean back. He gives you a sorry smile.

“Do you want to come and give him a kiss?” you ask from over your shoulder.

Dove walks into the arm you hold out for her and climbs into your lap, then Steve’s. He sniffles and holds her, misery in his frame but the relief of having your kid to squeeze clear. “Sorry, Dove, did dad worry you?” he asks in a murmur, lips near the top of her ear as he hugs her close. She’s small enough that his arm covers near the entirety of her back.

You pat his thigh. He reaches for your hand to hold.

“Crying,” she mumbles.

“Sorry. I was just tired.”

“You okay?” she asks, like he’d ask her.

“Yeah.” He threads your fingers together and leans away, smiling affectionately at Dove. She looks a lot like him when she smiles back, though you have to skew your head to see it. Same eyes, same dip in their top lip. “Mom kissed it better. Well, mostly. I just need, like, one more kiss, and then I will be perfect. Do you think so?”

She knows what he’s doing, laughing warmly as she leans in to kiss his cheek.

His eyes close as she ducks in, a small smile on his lips.

Man, you think. If Steve’s out of commission, I have so much laundry to do.

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crappymixtape · 8 months

Text

because of you • part one

PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 2.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T O N E 🎶 good girls ( john carpenter remix ), chvrches

“Why is she even here?”

“Steve!”

A loud smack cut the air in two as Robin slapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder, rendering the rest of group there in Max’s trailer silent.

Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, cheeks burning under his gaze, lips twisted into a scowl and trying hard to hold back the daggers you wanted so badly to throw at him.

“She doesn’t know what the hell we’re up against! How’s she supposed to–“

“Steve, none of us knew either, cut her a break.”

“Cut her a break and then what? We all get eaten by a fucking melted people monster?”

“That’s not fair–“

“It’s fine! It’s fine, Nancy,” you cut the girl off, standing quickly from your spot on the couch.

They’d been talking like this since you showed up. Like you weren’t right there in the room with them and honestly you kind of wished you weren’t anymore.

“I need some air,” you grumbled before giving Steve a pointed glare and shouldering open the front door.

The air outside was crisp as you sat down on the front stoop. Not a cloud in the sky and sunlight washing everything in soft golden light, but it all still felt so dark. Like it was harboring thick shadows. Long, spindly, and pitch black. Waiting to wrap their twisted fingers around you.

Waiting to dig into you and squeeze tight.

Waiting to lift you twenty feet into the air and snap your bones like twigs.

Waiting to leave you for dead.

And here was Steve fucking Harrington asking what right you had to be there. Asking what purpose were you gonna serve amongst this “holier than thou” joke of an army. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie had already gotten their asses handed to them by what they’d called demobats, Steve arguably needing serious medical attention, and they wanted to go back? It took everything you had to not leave right there on the spot.

Hell, maybe you should, you thought for a minute. You didn’t owe them anything, especially Steve, but you did owe it to your best friend. The one who basically had a hit out on him. The one who wouldn’t hurt a goddamn fly, but all of Hawkins had already decided he was guilty and you weren't about to leave him.

Eddie.

❝ SO SAVE YOUR BREATH, GIVE A LITTLE OF WHAT YOU HAVE LEFT – DO THEY KNOW SOMETHING I DON’T? ❞

You met him two years ago under the bleachers at the Homecoming football game. It seemed like the perfect place to smoke the joint you’d messily rolled in the car right before you’d come into the stadium and apparently you’d been right, but someone else had already laid claim to it...

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but this is kind of my spot.”

He’d been all black leather and denim. Dark curls and clove. Silver rings and chains and heavy boots and maybe you should’ve been more intimidated, but the smile lines at the corners of his mouth gave him away.

“Don’t see a sign anywhere,” you’d shot back, no hesitation. Looked over at him all skeptics and attitude and took a long drag from your joint. Blew the smoke off in his direction and it made him grin like an idiot.

“Been sellin’ weed down here for like…the last three years so–actually, yeah. What the fuck, man. Someone owes me a sign.”

...And that was it, you were a goner. Laughing mid-toke and coughing so hard you cried and it made him feel so bad he gave you a baggy for free. Eddie "the freak" Munson and you – best friends.

Skipped all the stupid dances and football games with you. Paraded around the lunch room like an idiot with you. Threw fries back at the jocks for you when they called you a loser and sat on the floor in the bathroom with you when you cried.

So fuck “King Steve” Harrington.

You had every right to be there, probably even more than he did and you were gonna tell him to his face, but—

“Can I sit?”

The sudden sound of someone else made you jump.

“Jesus, Eddie.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled and sat down next to you. Gave you a sidelong glance and a small lopsided smile. “He’s really not so bad–”

“You’re joking. Right? Tell me you’re joking.”

The boy hummed, dropped his gaze down to the rings wrapped around his fingers and twisted the one on his thumb.

“He doesn’t want me here. None of them do,” you grumbled, frustration fed further by his non-answer and it pulled his eyes back up to you.

“Hey now, that’s not true–”

“Yes it is! Even Nancy looks at me like a kicked puppy.”

That pulled a laugh from him. Made him scoot closer to you and bump his shoulder into yours. “Listen, sweetheart,” the nickname made you soften, but you tried to keep your scowl in place, “We’re all in over our fuckin’ heads, hm? And Stevie boy…he’s seen some shit. He’s just trying to–”

“Just trying to what? Be a complete dickhead about it? Mission accomplished.”

Eddie sighed and roughed a hand over his face. Rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. He knew what you felt because he’d felt it too. Knew what it was like to get laughed at and mocked in the lunch room. Knew how it was supposed to be between him and the other boy. Hell, he nearly cut Harrington’s face off with a broken bottle a few days ago, but one thing was clear.

Change was possible and Steve Harrington was proof, he just wasn’t great at showing it.

“Alright. He could be less of a dick,” he conceded, propping his chin in his hand and looking at you with his big brown eyes. How could you be mad at that?

You mumbled under your breath about that not being the only thing, but fine, okay, only for you, Eds.

Reaching over he flicked at your fingers and looked at you from under his curls with a stern pinch between his brows. “He’s helping me, sweetheart. They all are. Shit, without them I’d probably be in jail already. Or in Carver’s trunk,” he tried a laugh, but it fell short at the end with the weight of his words and it made you grab at his hand and squeeze it.

“Shut up,” you chided softly, no heat behind it. The anger that had been swelling in your chest all but extinguished.

Silence settled between the two of you then, heavy and tinged at the edges with worry. With everything that was at risk and it started to gnaw at the pit of your stomach. What if you couldn’t fix it? And even if you could, this Vecna asshole was about to end the world anyway so what the hell did it matter?

How were a bunch of kids going to do anything about it?

“Ahem,” the door knocked into your back and jolted you back to earth. Pulled a gasp from you and when you looked up over your shoulder you felt your anger return ten fold. “We’re leaving, geniuses,” Steve announced, pushing at you with the door.

“Least you know you’re an idiot,” you mumbled under your breath, standing up from your spot to glare at him at eye level.

“Real cute,” Steve shouldered past you on the stoop, took the last two steps in one go and turned to face you both as he landed on the grass. “For you, Munson,” he said, throwing a mask at Eddie, “Courtesy of Mayfield.”

“What’s that for?” you couldn’t help asking as Max appeared at your side and pointed so casually – too casually – at the mask.

“Gonna steal a Winnebago. Get that on, dingus. Let’s go.”

“Nice,” Eddie grinned up at the red-headed girl and yanked the mask on over his head, “Thanks, Red.”

“Let’s go,” Steve urged, waving his hands at everyone to get out of the house and you felt your heart racing.

“Steal a Winnebago? Eddie. Fuck that–”

“Honey, I’m already a wanted man–” Eddie cut you off and readjusted the ridiculous looking mask a bit. “–c’mon,” he said, tugging at your belt loop to get with it.

“I–that doesn’t mean you can just steal–”

“We’re way past that,” Dustin chimed in, shoving past you just like everyone else, “Besides, if the world’s gonna end anyway, what’s it matter?”

Shit. The kid had a point. It was probably fine. It was just a trailer. Maybe you could give it back afterward? You needed it more than they did. Right?

“Dammit,” you grumbled under your breath, now the only one still standing around. “Wait for me!”

❝ THEY TELL ME I’M HELL-BENT ON REVENGE, I CUT MY TEETH ON WEAKER MEN, I WON’T APOLOGIZE AGAIN ❞

The first time you ran into Steve Harrington was sophomore year. In the hallway before Click’s class. You were cramming everything into your bag, but struggling with your history book when you heard it coming.

Tommy Hagan’s stupid laugh.

Your stomach sank, eyes glued on your things and trying to ignore it. He was in your science class the year before along with his ditzy girlfriend Carol and they always made sure to get a spot in the back just to make out.

“Need some help?”

When you finally looked up at him he’d stopped right in front of you, the grin on his lips sharklike as Carol smirked out from under his arm. Another boy you didn’t know was standing just behind them wearing a stupid member’s only jacket, half unzipped, and had hair that sat perfectly in place. Too perfect.

“That looks heavy, hm?” Tommy said grabbing your book, voice all saccharine sweet and sharp around the edges. Flipping through the pages he pulled a face, clicked his tongue and weighed it in his hand, then made a show of dumping it on the floor. “Whoops. Sorry!” he half-laughed and your cheeks burned.

“Bite me, Hagan,” you snapped back, bending down to grab your book, and it only made his grin grow wider.

“Ooo. She’s fiesty today, Stevie. I like it.”

And then he chimed in. Stevie. The had-to-be-douchebag that everyone called 'King Steve.'

“Probably on her period,” he said scoffing a laugh, all confidence and bravado and the look on his face was so smug. Thought he was so clever and funny and when you finally turned around it was to take the two steps up to him in one.

“Really? My period? So original.”

It made him swallow hard. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he blinked back the flicker of surprise glinting in his eyes. He took a quick glance at Tommy like he didn’t want to disappoint him and then hardened his expression. Crowded down over you and nodded.

“Explains you being such a bitch.”

And it took the air from your lungs. Stuck in your sides sharp like a knife and you felt your throat tighten as Tommy and Carol snickered, but you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. Not here.

“Yeah. Bet you wish you had an excuse for being such an asshole,” you cut at him and it pulled an Oh shit! out of Tommy as he doubled over laughing, Steve’s mouth dropped open in shock.

Your feet couldn’t carry you away fast enough as you shoved your book in your bag and turned to leave, but you refused to run. Refused to let them see weakness, and as Tommy yelled down the hallway after you about tampons you raised a middle finger high in the air to punctuate just how much you hated them all.

Eddie met you in the bathroom after that, the one nobody used on the other side of school, and you told him everything. He let you have the joint he had tucked behind his ear for emergencies, listened to you and told you they weren’t worth it. Especially not Steve. Because even though Tommy started it, Steve was the one who dug in. Could have left it alone but didn’t and that was what really got you.

How obvious it was he knew how shitty they were being, but went along with it anyway because he had to maintain his status. Had to uphold how ‘cool’ he was and keep the line in the sand drawn between him and ‘the freaks’ like you.

So he wouldn’t get a second chance.

And he wasn’t worth your time.

Not then and sure as hell not now.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A THREE PART SERIES, PART TWO AND THREE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

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klausinamarink · 7 months

Text

He Want Kiss

rating: G | cw: none | wc: 630 | tags: post s4, getting together, first kiss, Steve is down bad | prompt: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him

written for @steddielovemonth

Steve is obsessed with Eddie’s lips.

Like completely to the point that he might actually start going to therapy.

But Steve is just a simple man. He sees a pair of well-rounded lips that can make a perfect smile with dimples and he’s a goner. For example, look at Eddie. They’re so plump looking that Steve cannot believe it’s legal. And the way they move whenever Eddie speaks-

“-ink I should go for this one?”

Steve snaps his gaze up, barely surviving from the combination of head whiplash and the pointed attack of Eddie’s eyes, Jesus Christ, look at them Bambi eyes.

“Oh yeah, man.” How Steve manages not to stutter is both a mystery and a blessing.

“Yeah?” Eddie looks at him, his expression mixed with expectation and nervousness.

“Yeah.” Steve repeats confidently. He’s already forgetting what exactly they were talking about but he knows it has to do with Eddie trying to get a job, hence why he called Steve over to help him out with the few applications that believe in Eddie’s innocence. “Like, yeah, go for that.”

Christ, he might as well bash his head again. Steve really doesn’t want to come off as a douche again, but it’s not his fault that Eddie’s lips are just right there. They’re just begging to be kissed.

Thankfully, Eddie seems pleased by his answer. He smiles, dimples and all - oh lord please have mercy on Steve’s soul because he cannot handle the adorableness any longer - as he says, “Well, if Steve Harrington says so, then I will do it.” Then Eddie starts biting his lip, glancing down at the resume they’ve polished together.

Steve digs his fingernails through the jeans over his thighs, but it’s not enough to bat away the growing temptation to reach forward and brush his fingers over Eddie so the other man wouldn’t abuse his lips anymore. The skin had already been cracked and bleeding in the past few months and it’s always so devastating to see Eddie hurt a part of himself like this.

Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, Steve should kiss him.

Eddie is right there. While there will be lots of opportunities to have him at Steve’s side, there’ll never be another perfect chance like this.

Steve leans forward a bit but stops himself. Has Eddie ever been kissed before? If he did, does he like the faint touch of lips brushing together? Like smashed together? Full-on make-out sessions that lead to something more passionate?

Okay, Steve could work on the slow route. He’s done it before with his previous girlfriends. He could lean in at a snail’s pace so Eddie has enough time to register what’s happening and-

“Steve?”

Suddenly, Eddie’s face is much closer than Steve remembers. He feels a heat of breath against his lips. Then the rush of realization comes over Steve because he was about to kiss Eddie.

Yet despite this, Steve barely feels a sense of embarrassment. He stays in place, staring into Eddie’s wide eyes as they flicker over his face, lingering on Steve’s lips every few seconds.

Finally, Eddie huffs out a nervous little laugh, “You, uh, listened to what I just said?”

“Hm-mm.” Steve shakes his head. He feels like he’s on cloud nine and whatever Eddie does next, he’s going to scream at the heavens anyway.

Eddie’s lips form the briefest of smirks, but it’s gone in a blink. They part open slightly.

Steve can’t hold it anymore. He closes the space between them and meets Eddie’s lips at last. It’s more rough and desperate than he plans it to be and tries to dial it back. But when Eddie kisses him with a similar force, Steve goes screw it and kisses back like it’s their last chance.

#klaus writes #steddie #steddielovemonth

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loveshotzz · 8 months

Text

A sneak peek 🌻

[This snippet takes place after your first night back in Hawkins, the morning after a party that Steve had to take a very drunk you and Robin home from. The morning after some things were said that you don’t remember 😌]

📻 fic playlist

Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud insight to hide you from its light.

The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty four hours and everything it’s unraveled.

The small parking lot is empty, the toe of your sneaker kicking small rocks as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall clad legs underneath it.

Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you have a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, and a dimple filled grin cracks wide across his face as he stands up.

“Glad to see you’re alive princess.” He teases, stepping out of his glass case with coveralls that are clean today, not the stained mess they were last night.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle, but there’s no saying no to Robin, you know that.” You laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to react to the sound of your voice.

“Trust me, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dance across his arm with his movements.

“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.

“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve Harrington emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“I slept through my alarm.”

The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light up with obvious amusement.

“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of his tank top shines with sweat.

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.”

That was a lie, he begged him.

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” You snort, making him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, stopping just close enough for you to smell how the cedar of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.

“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad news,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.

“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.

“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”

“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial up on the speaker in his office.

End of discussion.

“Look -“

“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them. You can see the green that hides in his eyes, only shimmering if you look close enough in the sunlight.

A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it has your blood pressure returning to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.

“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“

“Shit? Yeah I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…

“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.

“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him.

“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe like, six months ago.”

“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”

“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.

“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.” He sighs with a disappointed expression.

“Is this the bad news?”

“Kind of,”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.

“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.

“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.

“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.

“You’re gonna be just fine city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”

He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck.

“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

“Me?”

He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch.

“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.

He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.

Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.

“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes.

“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap this time. A thumb and forefinger find their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his tooth paste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.

“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts okay?”

It’s like detention junior year all over again, turning into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his work bench before adding,

“Do me a favor though and tell Robin she owes me a new pair of sneakers.”

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

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starshideurfics · 3 months

Text

Buzzed, Buzzing - part 2

part 1

Buzzed, Buzzing

JQ, you can’t go dropping TWO horny photoshoots on us in less than a week!

steddie, omegaverse, Buzzed part 2, mdni 🔞

Finally being with Eddie is a dream. At least for the week he’s in town, fully foregoing Steve’s guest room and its comfy mattress.

Instead, it’s a week of Eddie wrapped around Steve each night, skin touching skin, bodies sated in a bone-deep way Steve’s never felt before.

A week of waking up to Eddie’s lips on his neck, to whispers of, “Morning, Puppy,” and sleepy yawns, arms tugging him closer and closer.

A week of Robin saying, “I’m happy for you, truly, but could you try going five minutes without swapping spit?!” only for Eddie to look her dead in the eye and lick whatever part of Steve is closest to his mouth.

A week of Steve floating on a cloud of affection and hormones.

Then Eddie has to leave, head to Chicago and buckle down for long days filming.

Steve mopes their whole last morning, sneaking shirts out of Eddie’s suitcase until the alpha relents and dumps out his dirty laundry. “Put ‘em all in your nest, I can get new shirts.”

Steve purrs, gathers the shirts, and herds Eddie back to his room for a last quickie before Eddie’s Uber arrives.

Being apart sucks. They videochat daily, text constantly, but Steve still misses Eddie every second he’s gone. So, he’s back where he started, mooning over pics on his phone, scenting at Eddie’s boxers as he works three fingers into his aching pussy.

He’s holding out, but Steve is counting down the days until shooting wraps, when Eddie would fly straight to Indy.

Steve’s on his lunch break, typing out a response to Eddie’s latest text as he shove pretzel thins and hummus in his mouth, when his phone starts buzzing.

Robin is calling, from the other end of the building. “Hey, Robbie, need me to get you a coke zero?” he asks instead of saying hello.

“Don’t tell me you got rid of your Munson-stalking web alert, because that’s the only reason I can think of for why you aren’t freaking out!”

He did, not really needing it when he has Eddie checking in with him at least hourly. “What? Robin, I’m texting with Eddie right now, what do you think I missed?”

“Just, look him up; your ADHD gremlin boyfriend probably forgot to mention it!”

Steve opens google, starts typing Eddie’s name and only gets as far as “ED” before autofill finishes it for him.

A new photoshoot and accompanying interview. Steve gets caught by a photo of Eddie eating a peach. It’s such a thirst trap, but it makes Steve smile.

Besides, there are other notes, but Steve’s scent has always been peach-forward. It might be a coincidence. Steve doesn’t think it is.

He reads the interview; about his current project, lots on the movie coming out next month that filmed a year ago, and his costars including a chill cat.

But right under the peach picture is a question about his personal life, how he stays grounded and connected when he’s constantly moving around for work.

Eddie starts, as he always does, with Wayne, his friends, his charity work, the arts scholarship he funds.

“The truth is that it’s all for my partner. Like, I want to put good into the world, help kids like me who didn’t have the best start in life, but my focus is on being good enough for him, being the kind of person he can be proud of.”

The journalist asks him to elaborate.

She writes about Eddie’s smile, the small one where he averts his gaze, emotions too big to share. “I dunno, just that he’s got me beat by a mile—he’s a teacher, middle school, you know, the worst time in a kid’s life. And he loves it!”

More words on Eddie’s laugh and kind eyes.

“So, yeah, the people I love, the people who love me, that’s how I keep my head on straight. That’s what it’s all about, right? Family, friends. Pack.”

Steve’s vision goes blurry on the last little paragraph. He wipes the tears from his eyes and pulls out his phone.

Just read the article! I’ve always been proud of you ❤️

Three little dots appear immediately to show Eddie’s typing, but they disappear and instead Steve’s phone buzzes with a call.

“I forgot that was coming out today! I should have warned you!”

Steve grins. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thank you. And it wasn’t too much? I’m trying to keep my private life private, but if I can’t talk to you, I wanna talk about you. All the time. Because I fucking miss you, Puppy.”

“It’s okay,” Steve reiterates. “I miss you, too. So much. Wish you were here.”

The whine he lets out makes Eddie chuckle, low and dark. “Wish I had you here, could show you how much I miss you. At least you’ve got some new visual aides, but maybe tonight, when I call you could show me… Get your fingers wet for me.”

Steve lets out another breathy whine. “Yeah, want that.” He presses his legs together, tries to tamp down the feelings of desire before he gets too wet at work. “Miss your fingers, though.”

“Good,” Eddie husks. Steve can hear him lick his lips, so he knows Eddie’s nervous. “And it was supposed to be a surprise. But I’ve got the weekend off. My flight gets in at 9 on Friday night.”

Now expanded into a full fic! Read here

#steddie #omegaverse #fanfiction #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #ficlet #stranger things fic #part 2

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delicatebarness · 4 months

Text

cry baby | chapter eight

Summary: Confessions.

Warning: Mentions of John Walker. Mentions of Cheating.

Word Count: 1848

Spotify Playlist | Tips

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I can't wait for the John Walker parts to be over. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Two weeks had passed since John’s disappearance, and the news reports were all the same, no new leads or theories, it became tedious. Yet, there was a cloud of suspicion lingering over you and The Avengers, simply because the others were known as the ‘tough’ guys in the city, they were associated with trouble whether deservedly or not.

As you settled into your usual seat in the bar, the dim lighting cast shadows that danced across the wooden table, and a warm sense of familiarity washed over you. Your friend's laughter filled the air as you caught up with each other and your lives.

However, the moment of tranquility was shattered as the door swung open, and in strode a woman, a mask of rage and desperation over her features. You noticed her as she scanned the room, her eyes locked on your booth, a shiver sent down your spine as you retreated your gaze over to Bucky.

“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice sharp as she pointed an accusatory finger toward the group, mainly aimed at Steve. “I know you lot had something to do with it.” A tense silence fell over the bar, you exchanged wary glances with your friends. You knew who she was, her face had been plastered all over the news the last two weeks.

Steve was the first of you to respond, with a calm but firm voice. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I think you have the wrong people,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed, her fists were clenched at her sides. “Don’t play dumb with me,” she spat, her voice began to tremble. “You’ve always been into trouble, you can’t expect me to believe any of you are innocent.”

Natasha rose from her place in the booth, her demeanor was composed but unwavering. “We understand that you’re worried, but we genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about,” her voice was steady.

Sam nodded in agreement, “We may have a reputation, but this wasn’t us.” he tried to explain without letting his frustration get the better of him.

You couldn’t shake the unease that ate at you. You knew the truth - John had cheated on this woman with you. Even though you knew you hadn’t slept with him, the guilt of even going on dates with him and kissing him, bubbled up inside you. Your gaze flickered nervously to the floor as you tried to keep your composure.

Her gaze flickered between each one of you, rage and frustration taking over her features. “I won’t rest until I find out what happened to him,” she vowed, determination thickened in her voice as her gaze landed on you. Staying there for a moment longer than they all liked.

Bucky stood, his presence snapping her out of the haze that set her focus on you. “We understand you’re in pain, but coming here to accuse us… won’t bring him back,” he said, his voice calm.

With a final glare, toward you, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving a tense silence behind her. The bar remained quiet for a moment before the chatter resumed. As you and your friends got comfortable in your booth again, the weight of the accusation and your own guilt pressed down heavily on your mind.

The accusation from John’s wife cast a shadow over your gathering, causing the rest of the evening at the bar to become a stark contrast to the usual atmosphere. Although everyone tried to return to their conversation and laughter, the tension was undeniable.

Ever perceptive, Bucky, noticed the worry that clouded your features. He stayed quiet as the night wore on, it wasn’t until the other became engrossed in a conversation that he leaned in closer to you. “Hey,” he said softly, searching your gaze. “You okay?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” you replied, trying to sound upbeat and casual. He wasn’t convinced, he knew you too well. He noticed the slight tremble of your voice and the glossy coat over your eyes.

“You sure?” he pressed, “You seem more shaken than usual.”

Sighing, you remembered you couldn’t hide your feelings from him. “It’s just… the whole John situation,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t shake the guilt, Bucky. What if someone found out about us?”

His expression softened as his hand reached under the table, resting his hand against your thigh, his thumb brushing against your bare skin. “Hey, listen to me,” he said firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. He was the one who was married, not you. And, you had no idea about his wife, right?”

You shook your head, confirming his suspicion. “It’s just hard not to feel responsible,” you murmured, glancing around to make sure your other friends weren’t listening.

As Bucky began to respond, Steve interrupted. “Alright, I think it’s time to call it a night,” he announced, standing from his chair at the head of the booth, stretching out his back. Everyone murmured in agreement, and soon you dispersed. Each other your friends heading their separate ways. Expect Bucky, as always, he lingered behind, waiting for you as you gathered your things.

“Want a ride home?” the concern was evident in his voice.

You nodded without hesitation, you loved the feeling of the cool night air against your skin, it helped clear your mind.

As you reached your apartment, you turned to Bucky. He smiled warmly before pulling you into a comforting hug. “You know I’m always here for you,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

With a final squeeze, he let you go as he watched you enter your apartment. He waited until he heard the click of the door lock before making his way out of the building.

Once inside, you leaned against the door. Everything from the evening replayed in your mind. You knew you had to try and find a way to move past this, but that was easier said than done.

The next few days at work are blurred from the routine tasks and your colleague's hushed whispers. You tried to remain focused on your job, yet the memory of John’s wife’s confrontation lingered. The office gossip showed no signs of dying down and the sense of dread consumed you every time you heard his name.

One afternoon, as you were packing up for an early finish, your phone buzzed.

Bucky ❤️‍🩹: Bar? Could use some company…

You smiled at his timing, grateful for the attached photo showing both his beer bottle and a cherry cold waiting in front of your usual seat. You send a quick reply, packing up the last of your things and heading to the bar.

The bar was a lot less crowded than it usually is when you arrive. You stopped Bucky already waiting at your booth with the pictured bottle still waiting in front of him. He greeted you with a smile as you slid into the seat opposite him.

“How was your day?” he asked, handing you a straw.

“Same as always,” you replied with a shrug, placing your straw in your cola before taking a sip. “Just trying to keep my head down.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, it’s been tough with all these rumors flying around.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “I just want it to be over,” you admitted. “I can’t keep worrying about someone finding out.”

His eyes softened with sympathy. “Look, whatever happened, we’ll deal with it,” he assured you. “Anyway, it’s not like you slept with him…”

It took you a moment to think about his choice of words, you couldn’t recall ever telling him you hadn't slept with John or not. Shaking your head, the thought left your mind. Of course, Bucky knew you never slept with John, no one in this friend group can keep anything to themselves.

Just as you were about to change the subject, the door swung open, and again, in walked John’s wife. Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on you. Marching straight over, her expression was a mixture of determination and desperation.

“You,” she said, pointing a finger in your direction. “We need to talk.”

The bar fell silent, and everyone’s eyes turned to you. A sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you met her gaze, knowing there was nowhere to run.

Immediately standing up, Bucky positioned himself protectively in front of you. “Look, lady. We’ve already told you,” his tone was firm but calm. “We don’t know anything,”

Her eyes flicked to Bucky, then back at you. “She does,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need answers, now. John was last seen with people like… “She looked Bucky up and down before continuing. “... you. And, now he’s gone.”

You took a deep breath and began to fidget with the sleeves of your cardigan, trying to steady your nerves. “He wasn’t honest with you,” you began, your voice trembling. Bucky looked at you, his expression unreadable. Turning back to John’s wife, you noticed a mix of hope and fear in her eyes as she looked back at you. “I, I didn’t know he was married. I only found out after he disappeared. He… we were dating.”

Her eyes widened, her face draining of color. “What?” she whispered, taking a step back. “You’re saying…?”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat as your eyes began to well. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. If I had known, I never would have agreed to go with him.”

For a moment, she started at you, her emotions were conflicting on her face. Then, she looked down, her shoulders slumping as the reality of your words sank in. “I knew he was hiding someone,” she said softly, mostly to herself. “That doesn’t explain why he started coming home with his face black and blue…” she trailed off.

You noticed Bucky subtly move his hands to his pockets, concealing the marks on his knuckles that seemed like a permanent feature.

“I promise you, we had nothing to do with his disappearance,” you said, your voice shaking as the tears began to spill. “But, you deserved the truth about him.” You felt a pang of guilt knowing the pain that your words had caused.

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked back at you, “Thank you, I needed to hear it, even if it hurts,”

With a final moment in silence, she turned and left the bar. She left you and Bucky standing there, the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air.

Bucky turned to you, his eyes full of empathy as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You did the right thing,” he said softly, pulling you into a tight hug.

The ambient noise of the bar returned as the conversation resumed around you. Sitting back down in the booth, the feeling of your confession set heavy on your shoulders. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, you still felt a sense of doubt.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x cry baby #cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #biker!bucky #biker au

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fuctacles · 4 months

Text

@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 1/3 for easier reading on tumblr, but will be posted as a one-shot on Ao3 later | thanks @stevesjockstrap for beta-reading and mental support 💚

The shop was never busy. Aside from Valentine’s Day and Christmas, it was a lot of goofing around and packing online orders. And since it was pouring on a Tuesday afternoon, they expected no customers until closing, which was more than okay with them. They didn't choose it because it was popular. They chose it because their younger friends were too embarrassed to bother them here.

“It’s getting pretty bad,” Steve points out, squinting through the window. “I don’t wanna drive in this weather.”

Robin looks up just in time to catch a flash of lightning splitting the dark clouds outside.

“Maybe it will let up before we close.”

Thunder crackles above them, and Steve raises his eyebrow skeptically.

“We can wait it out in the pizzeria across the street,” she offers then.

“I like the way you think.”

There’s a loud bang as their doors slam open, letting inside some of the summer storm carnage. Despite the size of the shop, they can feel the cold rain on their faces, and for a second, the sound of the storm is deafening. It cuts off as suddenly as it started but is replaced by loud, displeased sounds of two figures drenched to the bone.

“Holy fucking shit!” a wet rat dripping on their floor curses loudly. He shakes his hands creating a small waterfall down the lapels of his leather jacket. The figure next to him drops down the hood of their jacket with a wet smack.

“Holy shitting fuck,” she agrees.

“They better be selling towels here.”

“Uh...” The unhooded figure, a short blonde, looks around curiously. “I’m afraid not.”

This prompts the guy to peel the wet hair away from his face and look properly around.

“Did we just walk into a fucking sex shop?”

“You did, yeah.”

The two turn to the desk when Steve speaks up.

Next to him, Robin flinches, and he senses something weird from her, like a brain equivalent of an exclamation mark. But he doesn’t think much of it, assuming it might simply be a reaction to the pretty girl in front of them.

“We have a radiator in the back, I could take your clothes to dry,” he offers the newcomers.

“No, we—”

“Are you seriously going back out in this weather?” The girl looks at her friend with raised eyebrows. He scoffs.

“No,” he admits petulantly.

“I can make you guys some hot tea. It’s not like anything is happening here anyway,” Robin pipes up.

“That would be great, thanks.” The blonde lights up gratefully, and Robin squirms.

Stave takes it upon himself to gather their wet things, afraid his friend might combust if she comes any closer to the girl. When he’s hanging the clothes, she is uncharacteristically quiet, so he turns to her and cocks his head.

“What’s up?”

She frowns at the mugs she's pulling out.

“Her.”

"Huh? She’s cute, isn’t she?" He grins.

“I think I could hear her,” Robin clarifies.

Steve straightens up immediately and walks towards his friend. She’s looking back up, worrying her bottom lip under her teeth.

“Do you think they are dating?” He motions to the front of the shop where they can hear the other two talk. She looks at the clothes scattered around the backroom. A denim vest, two black jackets, and a hoodie. Judging by the size and style, they all seemed to belong to one person.

“They could be like us,” he points out, but she doesn’t seem convinced. He isn’t either.

“Or she could not know.”

That would complicate things, wouldn’t it?

After exchanging a few heated looks they trail back to the front and Steve hands the teas to their intruders.

"Thank you." The girl smiles sweetly, though her gaze slides towards Robin.

Steve gives his friend a pointed look but she's too dazed to even flip him off.

"Thanks." The guy blows on his tea, keeping his gaze mostly on the window and the storm outside. "We'll take a look around and won't bother you guys," he says, giving his companion a pointed look before disappearing into one of the sections.

Steve knows it’s bad to stereotype but the assortment of strap-ons is not what guys like this usually go for, and his brain gets whiplash with the sudden onslaught of images he's not proud of. The tall guy wearing black and chains getting pegged by his tiny blonde girlfriend? It kind of suits him. He tries not to think about it.

They give them space to roam around the shop and whisper to each other while they finish their duties for the day and start closing up.

"Guys? We need to close in fifteen minutes!" Steve would feel bad for kicking them out into the storm, but the rain clouds have moved, turning the onslaught into a light drizzle.

It's only after they leave that Steve looks at the tattoo on the palm of his hand. Surprised at what he sees, he shakes it experimentally. The d20 lands back on the same number.

“Hey, look.” He holds it up for Robin to see. “I’ve never rolled a twenty before.”

Three days pass and Steve can't stand it anymore.

He slaps his hand on the counter, making Robin yelp.

“You’re thinking about her again!"

“I’m sorry!”

Steve shakes his head.

“No. Don't care, no sorries," he says with finality. “We’re finding her.”

"We go to the same school!" she protests. "I think. I mean, I'll run into her eventually!"

But Steve won't take that chance, tired of all the sighing from her brain, and decides to find the girl they've met. He figures the easiest place to find high schoolers is at the mall so that's where he goes.

With all the groups of friends and couples passing by, he feels even more like a loser than usual, being there all alone. But he's on a mission, so he won't let that deter him.

That is, until one of the faces he sees in the crowd gives him a pause. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize what's familiar about one of the three girls coming at him, but when the memory hits, he panics. Letting his flight response take over, he ducks into the nearest open door to avoid his ex.

After making sure the group has passed him without notice, he lets himself breathe. He's taking in the shop he stepped into, a record store full of tapes, vinyls, and band merch, when a voice startles his adrenaline levels back up.

"Well, well, well. How the tables have turned. Running from a gaggle of women, are we?"

Steve turns to find the metalhead who ran into his shop a few days ago, smirking at him.

"Just one." He shakes his head, instinctively looking back behind the glass door. "Really don't feel like running into my ex right now."

"Must be happening a lot, huh?" The man leans on the counter that separates them. "My friend told me you're quite the casanova."

Steve spots his opportunity and grabs it.

"The girl from the other day?" he asks.

"Yes?" The guy's eyes narrow.

“So you guys are friends?” he adds to clarify before he uncrosses his figurative fingers.

“Yes? Why else would we hang out?”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up under the man's suspicious stare.

“Well, you could be dating.”

The guy snorts.

“Yeah, I don't see the local freak bagging the head cheerleader. The fact that she can even stand me is enough.” Then his eyes narrow again. “Why? You interested in Chris?”

Chris.

“No? Well, kinda, but not… exactly.”

Steve has never felt less smooth in his whole life. And judging by the guy's expression, it shows. Whatever he was trying to sell, he wasn’t buying. His brain scrambles to salvage the situation and comes up with a painfully honest solution.

"Look, I just graduated and my friend group has fallen apart." He yells at his brain-to-mouth wires but keeps going anyway. "And you guys seem chill, I thought the four of us could hang out, or something?"

If the 'you suck' board still existed, he'd fill it out with tallies himself.

The man doesn't seem convinced and he opens his mouth to tear him to shreds probably, but then somebody yells from the back of the store:

"Eddie! A little help, please!"

And the guy, Eddie, gets reminded he's at work.

"Coming!" he yells back, and on his way there, throws Steve a quick string of, "Great seeing you again, we'll think about it, we know where to find you, bye!" before disappearing behind the back door.

After such a disastrous interaction, the last thing Steve wants to do is go back out into the mall full of people. But staying here to risk Eddie looking at him like that again was the more humiliating option. He turns around, planning to lick his wounds at home before reporting his findings back to Robin. For the hundredth time since finding her, he wishes they couldn't read each other minds. Because all he can think of is making a complete loser idiot of himself in front of a cool metalhead dude, and he knows she won't let him live it down. Maybe the Scoops board will make a comeback after this.

“Chrissyyyyyy!”

“Eddieeeeee!”

The rest of the cheer squad does perfectly synchronized eye rolls when their captain jumps down the human pyramid to greet her friend.

“Hi!” She smiles brightly. “You’re early. We’re not done yet.”

“I got some news.” He taps his fingers on the small partition between them, ignoring the cheer practice in progress. “Bad ones and good ones.”

“Bad first,” she says with a decisive nod.

Eddie opens his mouth but then frowns and closes it.

“It won’t make sense if you don’t hear the good news first.”

“Oh my god! Just spill it!”

“So, they’re almost surely not dating.”

“The sex shop guys?”

He nods.

“Okay, and the bad one?”

“Steve seems to be into you.”

“No!” she gasps, scandalized. Eddie snickers.

“Yeah. Sorry sweetie." His smile turns more apologetic.

Chrissy makes a face. Then she keeps making faces until Eddie can’t help but snort and slap her playfully.

“Stop! What are you thinking about?”

“I mean he’s kinda cute, but gives me repressed gay vibes.”

Eddie chokes but she keeps going.

“And his friend? His friend is just hot.”

“Ehh, I guess.” Eddie shakes his palm, making his friend roll her eyes.

“You’ll never understand the beauty of a woman in suspenders.”

“More women in suspenders for you then.” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Chris! You going back or what?” one of the cheerleaders behind them yells out, barely containing her annoyance.

“I’m coming!” Chrissy yells back. She turns to her best friend, her soulmate, with a dazzling smile. “You joining in?”

“You know they hate it when I do,” he points out.

“And you love it that they hate it.” She smirks like the evil little gremlin she secretly is.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” Eddie grins, climbing over the partition to join the cheerleading squad. A couple of girls groan, knowing what’s coming next but none of them dare to protest. If their captain’s soulmate wants to perform a perfect cheer routine, putting their months of practice to shame, there’s nothing they can do except blame the fates.

Eddie drops his leather jacket on the bleachers and does a couple of stretches in perfect sync with his friend. They grin at each other while mirroring each other’s movements without a word.

“If only you could read my mind during math exams like that,” Chrissy teases.

“Okay, shut up.” He rolls his eyes with fake annoyance. Yeah, it would be convenient, but he got a cheerleading routine memorized in his muscles instead. He’d be complaining if Chrissy wasn’t so fun to be around.

Despite his involuntary knowledge of the routine, none of the other girls fully trust him, so he usually ends up working mostly with Chris, tossing her in the air and catching her when needed.

“You should join us for the game,” she asks as always, after jumping down from his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” he answers as always, patting her head. She huffs, swatting his hand away and fixing up her ponytail, now loose from practice.

“Wanna go grab pizza?” she asks casually and he immediately goes into suspish mode. Chrissy rarely proposes eating out together. Don’t get him wrong, it’s great that his girlie is starting to eat better again, but… He doesn’t let his suspicion show when he asks:

“Sure. Any place in mind?”

She hums, but it’s a short hum. Very 'i-already-had-a-place-in-mind' like.

“The one with the Ninja Turtles poster?”

“You mean the one across the adult toys store?” He raises his eyebrows.

She blushes a fierce red and he knows it’s not because of the sex shop thing. He grins, wide and teasing.

“You wanna see that girl again.”

“Maybe,” she huffs defensively. “Okay, yes, so what?”

“So nothing.” He shrugs innocently. “Grab your things and we’ll go.”

“Yes!” she pumps her hands in victory, a dorky move Eddie’s proud to have taught her, and runs off to grab her backpack. She snatches his jacket before he can, overly eager to get moving. “Let’s go!”

He can’t help but laugh while trotting after her towards his van.

The inside of the store is brighter than they remembered, what with the sky being clear this time. It looks surprisingly normal until you take a better look at the contents of the boxes on display. A sex shop during daylight just lacks a certain ambiance.

The preppy-looking guy behind the counter doesn't match the vibe either.

At the sound of customers, the guy looks up.

"Hello! Oh, it's you guys." He visibly relaxes, realizing it's not his usual run-of-the-mill customers.

"It's us indeed." Eddie smiles, confidently strutting up to the counter. "Has anyone ever told you you look out of place here?"

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Has anyone ever told you not to judge someone's sex life by their looks?"

Eddie raises his hands placatingly.

"Fair enough, man. I'll back off." However, the comment made him insanely curious about what a guy like that would be into. Behind him, Chrissy gently kicks him in the ankle, prompting him to take a look around. "Alone today?" he asks with a curious tilt of his head.

"Yeah, Robin is tutoring after school today. Why?" His eyes narrow.

"No reason, no reason."

Chrissy kicks him harder and he smiles through the pain.

“What is she tutoring in? I’m having trouble passing the last grade.”

It takes Steve a moment to answer, like he's measuring how much information he can give away.

“Foreign languages.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Eddie snaps his fingers.

“Perfect! Can I get her number or something?”

The kick is so hard this time it jostles him forward and he glares back at his friend. It also attracts Steve’s attention to Chrissy.

He smiles at her, a bit unsure and shy. It rubs Eddie the wrong way and he can feel his hackles rise.

“Chris, right?”

“Chrissy,” she corrects, slightly scrunching her nose.

“Oh, sorry. It’s nice to see you again, Chrissy.” He smiles, more genuine this time.

“Uh, you too. Steve.”

Eddie clears his throat, hoping to come off as rude as possible.

Steve looks back at him and his expression shifts immediately. It’s almost a scoff.

“Listen, I don’t just give off my best friend’s number to random guys. But if you give me yours, I’ll pass it on.”

“Works for me,” Eddie says with the tightest approximation of a smile he can manage. “Do you have something I can write on?”

Steve looks around for the pen and notepad that are never in their designated spots and never together. He finds them under the keyboard.

“Here.”

But Eddie isn’t taking the items from him. Steve wiggles them like he would attract a pet or a child, but it doesn’t work. He’s about to make a snarky remark when the guy speaks up first.

“You have a D20 tattoo.”

“Huh?”

Steve is losing his mind.

But then he remembers that he does indeed have one and it’s partially visible when he’s holding out a pen like that.

“Ah, right.” He opens up his fingers and shakes his palm, causing the dice to roll. “It’s my soulmate mark.”

“Dude, that’s so dope.” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with marvel and Steve’s throat tightens. “You rolled a twenty, does that mean anything?”

Steve shrugs.

“I don’t know. One of my friends is a Dungeons and Dragons nerd and he told me it’s a luck thing? He freaked out pretty badly when I kept rolling ones on vacation, but nothing happened.” He smiles, fondly remembering Dustin’s panic.

Eddie hums.

“Man, having a functional D20 tattoo would be so fucking cool. I’m kinda jealous here.”

Steve snorts.

“Yeah, Dustin told me that too.”

Eddie finally takes the writing utensils from him, eyeing him contemplatively.

“I’m guessing you’re not a DnD nerd yourself? Considering you get your info from a friend?”

Steve chuckles.

"Yeah, no. Though I do get a lot of brain chatter from my soulmate."

"Brain chatter?" Eddie picks on curiously.

"Uh, yeah. I dream up whole campaigns and know lore I've never really studied. The kids go bonkers over it."

"Kids?"

Eddie's feeling both stupid and entranced by the guy.

"The DnD nerd? Dustin?" Steve says with annoyance that poorly covers up his fondness. "He comes with a full set of other nerds. A party, if you will. They just started high school and no, it's not weird that I know them. I used to babysit them and they just kind of..." He waved his hand. "Stuck on. Like parasites.

Eddie barks out a laugh.

"They sound delightful."

"They have their moments," Steve admits. Then they both stare at the number Eddie has scribbled on the piece of paper handed to him.

"So uh, see you around?"

"Yeah." Steve smiles. It's genuine and pleasant this time. But then, to Eddie's chagrin, he looks to the side. "You too Chrissy. Come over anytime. Maybe you need some tutoring too?"

"Uh, thanks, I'm good. Good luck finding a DnD nerd soulmate," she says, her tone weird. Eddie can't blame her. He wouldn't like being so blatantly hit on either. He could already feel her tugging on his jacket.

"Thank you," Steve says, smile turning a bit wistful. His eyes turn back to Eddie, away from his poor, sapphic-leaning soulmate. Good. He waves the note with the numbers. "I'll let her know you're interested but no promises. And hey, if you're into DnD too maybe you'd be interested in DMing for a bunch of freshmen?"

"I'll think about it," Eddie manages, slowly backing away, the force behind Chrissy's pull increasing. "Thanks, man. And, uh, good luck with the soulmate thing too!"

"Thanks."

The doors close in front of him and it feels like a curtain has just separated him from a whimsical spectacle.

"What the fuck was that?" Chrissy and Eddie ask each other in unison, albeit in vastly different tones.

"Huh?" Eddie frowns at his friend. She had already turned around and was pulling him towards the pizzeria across the street.

"Don't huh me! You forgot I was there!"

"I didn't!" He kind of did. For a teeny tiny second.

"You were clearly flirting with him."

"What? No, I wasn't!" he bristles. He'd know if he was flirting with someone.

She looks back at him sternly when they reach a table of her choosing. She plops down heavier than a tiny cheerleader should be able to and takes on a mocking, high voice.

"Oh man, I'm so jealous of your soulmate. Yes, I will play with your kids. Here's my number."

"I said no such thing," he hisses, sitting down across from her.

"Might as well." She shrugs. "You were interested in him."

"Well, he's an interesting person!" Eddie defends.

"Yeah, the preppy, vanilla high school heartthrob that is clearly not into the same stuff as you, other than his connection to his soulmate," she deadpans back. "Wouldn't have guessed."

"Shut up," he huffs, crossing his arms.

"Eddie, he asked you to hang out with his kids, himself," she points out.

"These are not his kids."

"You're so focused on the wrong details here. Do I have to wingman for you as well? Because I will. Just say the word."

Eddie closes his eyes and sighs. He knows his friend means well but it's just too much.

"Chrissy, stop. I don't need someone who has a soulmate with a matching, kick-ass D20 tattoo waiting for him somewhere. Probably a busty, nerdy girl, too—"

"Ew."

"Yeah, I know. He just seems interesting, and honestly? Expanding the party would be cool. So I might take him on the DMing thing I guess. But please, for the love of gods." He makes fierce eye contact with his friend. "No matchmaking. No wingmaning. Or wingwomaning. No setting Eddie up with a probably-heterosexual dude, who is probably into you."

A shudder goes down Chrissy's lithe body.

"Please don't remind me."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," she sighs. "I'm really hoping I'm right about his friend." She drums her fingers on the table, biting her lip. "Maybe it's stupid but I feel like it would magically solve everything. He'd get over me, I'd get to bone his friend, and you'd get a new friend with a kick-ass nerd tattoo." She beams at him and he just can't help but laugh at his little ray of sunshine.

"I hope you're right too."

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fatecantstopme · 1 year

Text

From Past to Future

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After you and Bucky break up, you end up engaged to Steve. What happens when Bucky comes back into your life two years later?

Warnings: So much angst. Cheating, cursing, use of pet names. Some fluff. SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), slight choking, metal arm kink (choking kink)

Two Years Ago

"Why are you always pushing me away?"

"It's better for you," he said calmly.

"Who are you to decide what's best for me?"

"I know myself better than anyone...I know my past. I know what kind of monster lives inside of me, so if anyone is equipped to decide you're better off without me, it's me."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"No."

Anger threatened to bubble over. "I can't live like this, James. I can't. I would do anything for you, but I can't make you see that I can handle everything about you, including your past. I'm not afraid of you, but I'm afraid I'm going to lose myself if I keep fighting you like this."

He nodded slowly. "It's better this way."

"How can you be so calm?" you yelled. "Do I really mean so little to you? Did the past year mean nothing?"

He had the decency to look ashamed. "You mean everything to me, that's why I have to let you go."

Tears streamed down your face, a mixture of rage and pain clouding your features. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

He simply shrugged.

You hastily grabbed your jacket, keys, and purse before heading towards the door. You turned back to look at him one last time. "I hope you heal, Bucky, I really do. But I won't be around to see it."

You turned and left the apartment, shutting the door behind you. It felt final, as if you'd just shut the door on your old life. You'd left a piece of your soul in that apartment, a piece you prayed you could learn to live without.

**********

One Year Ago

"You are such a dork."

He grinned ear to ear with pride. "That could be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

You laughed warmly and rolled your eyes. "What are you talking about? I'm always nice to you."

He raised his eyebrow teasingly.

"Alright, alright. I'm mostly nice to you."

He chuckled and tugged you against his chest. "I'll take it."

You giggled as you leaned back against him, gaze wandering out towards the ocean and the beautiful sunset beyond it. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

"Every morning."

You looked up at him in confusion.

"I'm blessed to wake up beside the most beautiful woman in the world every day," he said almost reverently.

Your expression softened and you turned to face him, putting your back against the balcony railing. You reached up and caressed his face, eyes shining with emotion. "Steve..." you whispered.

He placed a single finger to your lips to silence whatever you were about to say. He ducked his head to kiss you and you sighed as you melted into him.

After a few moments, he took your hand and guided you back through the open door and into the bedroom.

"I love you," he murmured against your skin as he laid you down on the soft bed.

"I love you too," you said softly, before you got lost in each other for hours.

**********

Two Months Ago

"Seriously? The wedding is in three months!" you yelled into your phone.

Your best friend, Natasha, came into the room when she heard you yell. "What's wrong?" she mouthed at you.

"Well the dress is pretty damn important, don't you think?" you seethed.

Natasha's eyes widened. "What's wrong with the dress?" she asked aloud.

You pulled the phone away from your face. "The tailor lost it."

"What the hell do you mean they lost it?"

You put the phone on speaker so Nat could hear. The man on the other end of the phone was explaining some sort of snafu with the dress and the shop moving locations.

Nat took the phone from your hand. "Let me handle this, okay?"

You sighed and nodded, grateful that she was there to take care of at least some of the wedding issues. Steve had been traveling a lot for work, so the wedding planning had fallen almost exclusively on you. If it hadn't been for Natasha, you were pretty certain you would have lost your mind.

The doorbell rang, bringing you out of your thoughts. You weren't expecting anyone, but you'd been getting a lot of deliveries lately thanks to the upcoming wedding.

You opened the door without checking to see who it was and the moment your eyes focused on the person standing on the porch, you found yourself wishing you'd looked first.

"Hey, (Y/N)."

"What are you doing here?" You winced slightly, the sound of your voice a bit harsher than you'd intended.

"I deserve that," he admitted softly. "I, um...well I heard you were getting married."

You stared at him in shock. "I'm sorry...you heard I was getting married, so you decided it would be a good idea to pay me a visit?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, well--umm, when you put it like that, it doesn't sound so good."

"You think?"

Once again, the harshness of your voice made you feel terrible. You knew exactly why you were being rude, but you couldn't bear to admit it to yourself. You hadn't expected to see him again, and certainly not like this. What was worse was you hadn't expected to feel like this when you did. Your palms were sweaty, your heart was racing, butterflies danced a merry jig in your stomach...you hated yourself for the emotions that washed over you at the mere sight of him. Hating him too made it that much easier.

"I just, I guess I just wanted to see how you were doing," he mumbled.

"I'm happy, thanks for asking. You can go now."

"(Y/N)..."

"No," you snapped. "No. Don't say my name like that. Don't you dare."

He looked down at the ground and muttered, "I'm sorry."

When you didn't say anything, he looked back up at you.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). For all of it." His words began to come out in a rush, as if he was hoping you wouldn't have time to interrupt him. "You were right. You were right about all of it. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I wasn't...and you--you deserve an apology. Even if it's two years too late."

Your heart clenched in your chest and tears pricked at the backs of your eyes. You were struggling to find the words to say, to fight through the storm of emotions swirling around you, when Nat came to your rescue.

She appeared beside you, took one look at the man standing on your porch, and said, "I don't know what the hell you're doing here, James, but you need to leave. You have no place in her life anymore...not after all the pain you caused her."

Bucky's blue eyes darkened with sadness. "I know," he said softly. "I just wanted to apologize...and say goodbye."

He turned and began to walk down the stairs. You watched him make his way to his bike before you ran down the steps after him. "Bucky!"

He turned to look at you in surprise. You'd stopped at the bottom of the steps, but he could see the emotion on your face as clearly as if you were an inch from him.

"I forgive you," you whispered so softly he almost missed it. If he hadn't been a super soldier, there was no way he would have heard you.

He nodded his acceptance--his gratefulness--before getting on his motorcycle and driving away.

"You okay?" Nat asked softly as she reached the bottom of the steps.

"Yeah," you lied.

She knew you well enough to recognize the lie, but she also knew better than to push you. When it came to Bucky, you'd always been vulnerable. You'd loved him with everything you had--a kind of fierceness she'd never seen before or since. She'd hoped Steve would change that...that loving him would help you forget Bucky, but when she looked at your face in that moment, she knew you'd never stop loving him.

**********

Present

"I'm getting married in a couple weeks," you said with a sigh. "Can you even believe it?"

"Yeah, babe, I can believe it," Natasha teased. "How excited are you?"

For the first time, you were grateful she wasn't there with you. "I can't wait," you lied. You hoped your voice conveyed excitement, even though your face did not.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Nat asked for the third time in your 20 minute conversation.

You groaned into the phone. "Nat, I'm fine. Now can you stop worrying about me and go enjoy your vacation?"

"It's not as fun without you here," she pouted.

You laughed. "I know, I know. I'm the life of the party."

She laughed too. "I miss you and I'll be home in a couple days."

"Miss you too. Give my love to Bruce."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too."

You hung up the phone and leaned your head back against the sofa. You hadn't felt right in weeks...not since Bucky Barnes had shown up unannounced on your front porch.

You hated how he made you feel...hated that even after everything, you still loved him. You were engaged to be married to another man for God's sake, but here you were crying on your couch over a relationship that died two years prior.

You hadn't mentioned anything about Bucky's sudden appearance to Steve. You didn't want to upset him...or at least that's what you told yourself. Seeing him had brought back years of emotions you'd buried long before. You didn't think you could explain any of it to Steve without him realizing what you'd been denying for two years: you still loved Bucky.

You'd managed to convince yourself that it was okay to love two people at once...because you did love Steve. You really did. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you loved him more than Bucky. You were grateful you didn't have to choose between the two. You were marrying Steve and that's the way it needed to be. Steve loved you so much and he treated you like a queen. How could you want anything else?

A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts. At least this time you were expecting a delivery, so you didn't think twice as you opened the door.

"Bucky..." you whispered.

He was standing there, flowers in hand, blue eyes warm and gentle.

"What are you doing here?" you asked softly.

"I needed to see you."

"Bucky, you can't be here."

"Please, (Y/N). Can we just talk?"

"I'm getting married," you said, less firmly than you'd intended.

"I know, doll. That's why I need to talk to you."

Against your better judgment, you turned to the side, allowing him entry.

He stepped past you into the foyer and handed you the flowers. "Um, these are for you."

"Thank you," you said softly. "I'll just...get a vase."

He followed you into the kitchen. "Your home is beautiful."

"Thanks."

He stood awkwardly on the other side of your kitchen island, hands at his sides as if he wasn't sure what he should do with them.

"So...what did you wanna talk about?"

"Us."

"Bucky, we can't--"

"Just let me get this out," he begged. "If you hate what I have to say, you can throw me out...but just listen for a moment."

Tears welled in your eyes and every sensible part of you screamed at you to make him leave, but you couldn't force yourself to move--couldn't say a word.

He took your silence as permission to speak. "When we first met, I was a broken shell of the man I used to be. My past was still so fresh in my mind and I hated myself more passionately than any person should. When you came into my life, I desperately wanted to be the man I was before Hydra...but I couldn't. I was scared of hurting you, scared of what I was capable of and what I might do to you if I lost control. So I pushed you away...until you finally got tired of it. I don't think I'd ever had a broken heart before that day."

Tears streamed steadily down your face as you listened to him speak. You were still frozen in place, his words gluing your feet to the floor.

"It took me a while to realize I could never be that man again...that young, carefree, charming guy. I figured if I couldn't be him, then I was just the monster Hydra made me. All that was left was the Winter Soldier." He paused for a moment. "I didn't want to be him, but it wasn't until I was in Wakanda that things really changed...I changed."

"You were in Wakanda?" you asked softly.

He nodded. "For a while, yeah. I dealt with a lot of my issues and I don't have to fear the trigger words anymore...they have no effect on me. But it wasn't until I received my pardon that I started going to therapy. At first it was because I had to, but after a while, I wanted to go...it was helping me in ways I didn't know I needed. I'm not the person I was before Hydra, but I'm not the Winter Soldier either. I'm just a different version of me...but at the end of the day, I'm still Bucky."

"I'm glad you got the help you needed, Buck. I truly am," you said softly. "But what does any of this have to do with me?"

"I'm getting to that," he answered quickly. "Losing you hurt me infinitely more than I expected it to and at first I wanted to get help so maybe you would want me..." he trailed off for a moment. "I eventually realized I needed to change for myself, not for you. I'm by no means perfect, but I am comfortable with who I am now."

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Look, I know my timing is terrible, but I need to say this or I'm going to regret it for the rest of my unnaturally long life." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I fell in love with you the moment I met you. I loved you every day of our relationship and every day since--I've never stopped loving you. I don't think I can--and trust me, I've tried. You've held my heart in the palm of your hand since we first met..."

Bucky took a step towards you, then another, then another, until he was mere inches from you. "You are my heart, (Y/N), and I don't want it back."

"What do you want, Bucky?" you whispered.

"You," he said simply. "You're all I've ever wanted."

You should have pushed him away. You should have told him to leave. Hell, you should have left...but you didn't do any of those things. You didn't pull away when he reached out to wipe your tears from your cheeks. You didn't stop him when he cupped your face in his hands. And you didn't fight him when he pressed his lips against yours.

Instead, you pulled him closer to you as you returned the kiss--the feeling of his lips igniting a fire deep inside you that you'd never felt with anyone else.

What began as a loving kiss, quickly turned to pure desire, a passion so explosive it couldn't be contained. You practically tore each other's clothes off, leaving a trail of clothing from the kitchen to your bedroom.

A tiny voice in the back of your mind told you this was wrong...that you should stop...but you ignored it. Soon, all coherent thoughts slipped from your mind, replaced by overwhelming pleasure.

Sex with Bucky had always been incredible, but this was so far beyond every encounter you'd ever had before. He was comfortable, confident, and so sure of himself--it was the sexiest thing you'd ever seen.

"Bucky," you gasped as he finally entered you after relentlessly teasing you with his mouth, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body.

"Fuck," he grunted. "I forgot how good you felt."

"So big," you whispered.

He grinned. "Yeah? Well this pussy was made for me, baby. I could stay here forever."

You'd be lying if you said that didn't sound like heaven to you. He felt so incredible...every sensation felt heightened in a way you hadn't felt in years.

His cock brushed against your g-spot with each thrust, turning you into a moaning mess beneath him. "Shit, doll...you gotta stop squeezing me like that or I'm not gonna last."

You'd long since lost control of your body--it was acting entirely of its own volition by this point. All you could do was moan and gasp and dig your nails into his back as he plunged into you again.

Back when you'd first started dating, you'd told Bucky you wanted him to choke you with his metal hand during sex, something he'd vehemently refused to do. He'd been terrified of hurting you, but now as he looked down at you, he found himself wanting to try it.

He gently placed his left hand against the column of your throat, putting only enough pressure for you to know what he was doing. Your eyes widened before rolling back, a moan of need breaking free from your lips.

"You like that, doll?" he whispered.

You nodded rapidly.

He smiled and gave the tiniest squeeze to your throat. You gasped loudly and your nails dug into the flesh of his right bicep. He continued to fuck you as fast and hard as he could, left hand never leaving your throat.

He could tell you were close, but he didn't want you to cum until he did, so he waited until the very last moment before giving your throat another small squeeze. You screamed his name as you came, your orgasm triggering his own. He called out your name as he filled you with his seed, hand slipping from your neck to caress your face.

Bucky's stamina was truly a thing to behold even now. He hovered over you, lips pressed against yours in a heated kiss. Somehow, his cock was still hard, despite having just had the best orgasm in years. Instead of pulling out of you, he began to move again, your shared releases mixing together to provide extra lubricant.

"Bucky," you moaned softly. "What--"

"You didn't really think I was done with you yet, did you doll?"

The sensations began as almost painful, the sensitivity making it hard to enjoy. Within moments though, those sensations turned to pleasure and the need began to pool in your belly again.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked teasingly.

"Don't you dare."

He chuckled darkly and sped up his movements, earning a pleased moan from you.

The two of you were so lost in passion and pleasure, neither of you heard the front door open. Even Bucky missed the telltale signs of someone walking through the house towards the bedroom door.

"What the hell is going on here?"

The sound of your fiancé's voice brought you suddenly back to reality. You wanted to sink into the floor and never come back out.

Bucky's first instinct was to protect you, but when he turned his head to look at the newcomer, he felt nothing but shame.

"Bucky?" Steve said in shock.

"I can explain..." Bucky began as he removed himself from the bed, grabbing a blanket to cover himself with.

You sat up, clutching the sheet to your chest, eyes wide as you stared at Steve. "Steve..."

"Don't," he snapped. "Don't you dare try to talk your way out of this, (Y/N)."

"It wasn't her fault--" Bucky tried.

"Save it. I know you were pissed at me for dating her after you broke up, so maybe I deserved the revenge," Steve said angrily. He turned his gaze back to you, hurt filling his beautiful blue eyes. "But you? I've done nothing but love you. I treated you the way you deserved to be treated...I did everything right."

"Steve, I'm so sorry," you whispered.

"That doesn't change anything." He turned to walk away and you jumped up to follow him, grabbing your robe on your way out.

"Steve, wait--"

"What do you think you could possibly say to fix this, (Y/N)?" he yelled.

You took a step back in shock. Steve never yelled. Ever. "I don't...I don't know..."

"Exactly." Tears pressed against the backs of his eyes and his voice was shaky. "It's over, (Y/N). I'm done."

You hadn't expected him to say anything differently, but it still hurt to hear it. You looked down at your left hand and saw the diamond ring he'd given you. You didn't cry as you slid it off your finger and handed it to him...nor did you cry as you watched him walk out the door and out of your life.

A few moments later, Bucky appeared behind you fully dressed. "(Y/N)..." he began.

You held up your hand to silence him. "Don't--just don't." You stared at the door your fiancé--ex-finacé--had just walked through. "I can't believe I ever thought I was a good person," you whispered.

"You are a good person," Bucky countered, taking a step towards you.

"Please just leave."

"(Y/N)..."

"Just go. I can't even bear to look at you right now."

Bucky knew better than to argue. He loved you more than anything, but he knew he'd made a mistake. He never intended to sleep with you...it just happened.

He shrugged his jacket on and walked out the door, leaving you on the other side of it. Your life had been shattered into pieces because of a choice you'd made...you and Bucky.

**********

"You did WHAT?!" Natasha yelled.

You'd called her a few minutes after Bucky had left to tell her what happened. "I slept with Bucky," you repeated.

"What in God's name were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," you whispered.

"Jesus, (Y/N/N)," she sighed. "Are you okay?"

"No."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea. I managed to blow up my life in a single afternoon."

"It's not that bad, okay? We'll figure it out. Just...don't tell Steve."

"Too late."

"What?"

"He walked in on us."

"WHAT?"

You made the sound of an explosion, complete with hand movements she couldn't see.

"Okay, don't do anything crazy. I'll be home in a couple hours."

"Nat, don't cut your vacation short because of me."

"It's one day, (Y/N). Besides, you need me."

You wanted to deny it, but you really did need her. "Thanks," you whispered.

"You're welcome. I'll see you in a few hours."

**********

Two weeks had gone by since you'd slept with Bucky and broken up with Steve. Natasha had stayed with you for the first week...you were much too upset to be left alone.

You spent the second week by yourself...you needed the time alone to figure things out. Natasha had been helpful, but she'd also been upset with you for ruining things with Steve over Bucky. She'd always hated that he broke your heart.

As much as you loved Natasha, you knew you needed advice from someone else. You wanted to believe everything Bucky had told you, but you were too jaded to believe him without proof.

Steve was Bucky's best friend before the two of you had started dating and they really hadn't talked since. Bucky became closer to Sam Wilson over time and you knew they were best friends now. You decided Sam was the person you needed to talk to, so you called him up and asked him to meet you for lunch.

Sam hadn't been surprised when you'd called him...Bucky had told him everything that had happened. What did surprise him was that you wanted to meet up to talk.

He contemplated calling Bucky to tell him, but he decided it would probably be better to talk to you first. So he got himself together and went out to meet you for lunch.

You were already seated at a table in the back of the restaurant when Sam walked in. You waved him over and he took a seat across from you.

"Hey, (Y/N). How are you?" Sam asked as he sat down.

"Honestly, Sam, I've been better."

He was a little surprised by your candidness, and he wasn't sure if he should play dumb or admit Bucky had talked to him already. He opted for something in the middle of the two, "Bucky mentioned he went to see you a couple weeks ago."

"Did he say anything else?" you asked uncomfortably.

Sam knew better than to try and verbally lie to you, so he simply shook his head.

"He may have left some things out," you said softly. "Steve and I broke up."

Sam's eyes widened. He did his best to act surprised as he asked, "Why? What happened?"

"Bucky happened," you said honestly.

"What do you mean?"

You closed your eyes for a second...not quite ready to admit you'd done something terrible. "He shows up back in my life after two years and says a bunch of shit that I don't know what to do with. Who does he think he is? I was happy, Sam. I was getting married in a couple weeks!"

Sam sighed. "I know, (Y/N)...and I've known you for a long time, so I'm just going to say this: you were content with Steve. He never rocked the boat, never challenged you or upset you, never did anything to hurt you--but he also never made you laugh so hard you couldn't breathe, he never made you smile so wide your face hurt, and I know for a fact he never loved you the way Bucky does."

You stared at your friend in silence. You knew Bucky had loved you two years before and he'd professed his love to you mere weeks ago...what you'd spent two years denying to everyone including yourself, was how you felt about Bucky. You'd never loved anyone the way you loved him and as much as you cared for Steve, it never came close to how you felt about Bucky.

"It's okay to admit you still love him," Sam said gently.

"Is he different, Sam? I mean really, truly different? Because I can't--" you took a shaky breath. "I can't go through that again."

Sam shook his head. "He's not the same man he was before. You know how I felt about him when we first met...we didn't become friends just to fill some kind of void in our lives. I love the guy like a brother, but I would never lie to you (Y/N). You're family too."

You swallowed thickly. "Natasha says I should move on."

Sam waved his hand dismissively. "Natasha doesn't know Bucky like I do. She knew him before...she has no idea who he is now."

"I know," you whispered. "That's why I wanted to talk to you."

Sam cocked his head to the side. "You wanted to know if Bucky had really changed."

You nodded.

"Because you still love him."

"I never stopped," you admitted.

Sam offered you a gentle smile. "You should tell him that."

Your eyes were teary as you looked up at your friend. "I know."

**********

Two days later, you were standing on the front steps of Bucky's apartment. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and you were quite certain you were moments away from throwing up. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt this anxious.

Your decision to come here had been spur of the moment and you suddenly regretted that decision. You'd hit the buzzer for Bucky's apartment, but no one responded. Like an idiot, you hadn't even bothered to check if he was home before coming all the way over there.

You turned around to leave, feeling like a fool, when you heard the door open behind you and a voice call your name. When you turned back around, Bucky was standing in the threshold, looking at you in surprise.

"Oh, I umm--I thought you weren't home."

He gestured to the call box. "The damn speaker is broken again, so you couldn't hear my response. I woulda buzzed you up, but that's also not working right..."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "So...what brings you by?"

You were one hundred percent certain he could hear your heart beating even without his super hearing and your breathing had become obviously shallow. You felt like an absolute moron standing on his front stoop, staring at him in silence. He was beautiful and it always took your breath away...even now.

"I thought we should talk," you blurted.

Bucky looked slightly surprised, but he nodded in agreement. "Why don't you come inside?" He turned to go back through the door.

When you made no move to follow him, he stopped and said, "Or we can just stand out here..."

You shook your head, partially in response to his statement and partially to clear your head. You didn't say anything, but you took a step towards him, so he turned to guide you up to his apartment.

"Sorry about all the stairs. I like being up higher."

"It's fine."

Once inside his apartment, he gestured for you to have a seat before heading into the kitchen. "Can I get you anything? Maybe something to drink?"

You'd never felt so awkward in your entire life and you knew you weren't going to be able to say anything you wanted to like this. "Do you have whiskey?"

Bucky chuckled lightly. "Always. On the rocks?"

"Is there any other way?"

He laughed. "Touché."

He brought you the drink and sat down on the couch across from you with his own. "Please sit, (Y/N)."

You didn't want to be any weirder than you already were, so you took a seat on the chair beside you. You took a long drink from your glass, almost draining it.

"Should I have made it a double?" he teased lightly.

You looked down at your glass in embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm just--nervous, I guess."

"No need to apologize," he said gently. "And no need to be nervous."

You laughed breathily. "I think I'll have to disagree on that one." You downed the rest of your drink and sat the glass on the table in front of you.

"Would you like another one?"

"No--I uhh, I think one will be enough."

He nodded. "So...what did you wanna talk about?"

The speed with which you'd ingested the whiskey ensured you felt it almost immediately. You took a deep breath, allowing the liquor to calm your nerves. "I wanted to talk about what happened."

"When?"

Your eyes snapped up to his. "Seriously?"

"Ahh...so this is about the other day."

"Yeah, Bucky, it's about the other day. Ya know, when I cheated on my fiancé with you and broke his heart? That day."

"His heart? Not yours?"

You didn't appreciate the tone in his voice, so you snapped, "No, you managed to do that all on your own."

He sighed and sat his drink down. "That was two years ago, (Y/N)."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt."

"I know, and I'm sorry. Hurting you was never what I wanted. But we needed to be apart and the only way that was going to happen was if I hurt you. You just wouldn't leave," he finished softly.

"Because I loved you, Bucky! Is that really so terrible?"

"No, of course not. But I never would have gotten the help I needed if you hadn't left me...if I didn't have a reason to get better."

"I wasn't reason enough?"

"You were my reason and that was the problem. I needed to do it for myself and I couldn't do that if you were there."

You were quiet for a moment. "Leaving you was the hardest thing I ever did, James. I didn't think my heart would ever heal."

"How'd you think I felt when you got together with my best friend?"

You winced. "It just sort of...happened."

He sighed. "I wanted you to be happy and if Steve was the one who made you happy, then I had to accept that. But that's why I left, (Y/N). I couldn't stand to be in the same city as you two anymore. The possibility of running into you was too painful to risk."

"I'm really sorry, Buck. I didn't do it to hurt you."

He looked up at you with soft eyes. "I know that. It's not in your nature, nor is it in Steve's. You can't help who you fall in love with."

"I missed you...so much, and Steve--Steve understood how that felt. Better than anyone."

"Did you love him?"

"Yes."

"Were you really planning on spending the rest of your life with him?"

"Yes."

"If he hadn't caught us...would you still be marrying him?"

"I...I--I couldn't. I can't. It wouldn't be fair to him. Not when I feel--what I feel."

"And what do you feel?" Bucky asked softly.

"Bucky..."

"Please."

You sighed heavily. "When I first got together with Steve, I still loved you more than anything. Over time, I suppressed that love just enough that I could open myself up to loving someone else. After a while...it got easier and easier to pretend I felt nothing at all for you. And then you barged back into my life."

Bucky didn't say a word, too scared to stop the flow of emotions coming from you.

"You barged in and you brought all of those emotions back to the surface. You made me remember everything I'd ever felt for you--and I wanted to hate you for it. I wanted to hate you so badly, but I couldn't. I can't find it in me to hate the person I love the most. I never fell out of love with you, Bucky, I just hid it really well."

He wanted to speak, to say something to acknowledge what you just said, but he couldn't find the words. Instead, he got up and came to stand directly in front of you, before kneeling down and grabbing your hands in his. "I think this is the moment where I'm supposed to say something deep and profound, but all I can think to say is, 'I love you too'."

Tears filled your eyes. "That's more than enough," you whispered.

He pulled himself up slightly so he could reach your face. He gently pulled you down towards him, kissing you with a loving intensity that set your soul aflame.

Loving Bucky Barnes just felt right, as if it was all you were ever meant to do. He was the love your life and being here with him in this moment reminded you of how good it felt to be in the arms of someone you loved with every part of you.

When you'd left Bucky two years ago, you'd left a piece of your soul with him, a piece you'd worried you wouldn't be able to live without. You'd learned how to, but it wasn't the same--you weren't the same.

For the first time in years, you felt whole--complete. If life was a giant puzzle, Bucky was your missing piece. And in the darkness of his bedroom, wrapped in his arms, you made a promise to love him forever--a promise he returned in kind.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #marvel smut

590 notes · View notes

steviewashere · 5 months

Note

For the kiss prompt....Steddie and 40 please because I saw it and had a burning need for it!

❤️❤️

Okay, this one is far less angsty (I'm hoping) than yesterday's, lol. But I appreciate this prompt a lot. <3

Number 40: "Because the world is ending."

Tags: Season 4, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, First Kiss, Slight Love Confession, Steve Harrington has a Bisexual Awakening, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Lives, Last Minute Promises, Protective Steve Harrington

💕—————💕 There was a weight in the way Eddie’s vest laid on Steve’s back. Something that nailed him to the floor, kept him under the clouds but above ground, that anchored him to existence. It provided a sense of security that Steve hadn’t felt in…three or more years.

But there was something about Eddie’s gaze, too, that provided that same amount of comfort. Just one glimpse, one stupid little sentence about lost loves, one panicked nervous fit of laughter—it was enough to make something inside Steve squirm. The same thing he kept away in his own Pandora’s box, deep inside the crevice of his chest behind sinew. It’s where Tommy existed at one point, maybe a few other boys from elementary school. He knew what it was, the pull in Eddie’s gaze. Or, really, the magnetism that Eddie’s eyes held.

It made Steve want to stare back. Made him want to stop the world’s rotation. Made him want to find a way to reverse time, prevent all the evils of his life, find Eddie sooner. He wanted Eddie the same way mosquitos yearn for amber light. Icarus to the sun. Something strong, invasive, all consuming.

Love, he realized. He wanted love from Eddie.

Which makes it all worse when they’re going over game plans. Eddie going with Dustin. Dustin going with Eddie. Nancy and Robin going with him to the Creel house. Max and Lucas and Erica being all too far. There was that pull. A protective surge. Flames in his veins.

It was all so stupid. So careless. Everything they chose to do. The way Eddie knew about some gun store. How his body read nonchalance, but the way his hands shook when pointing out what kind of weapons they could find there. Steve wanted to reach down and wrap his own hands around Eddie’s, squeeze them still, bring his knuckles to between his eyebrows. Do something silly. Like kiss them or kiss Eddie or carve a spot behind his ribs and force Eddie inside of there.

That magnetic pull is back full force once they’re right side up in the Upside Down. Dustin’s a whole four inches shorter than Eddie. Covered in scrap and a hood. And he looks childish, dorky, how he should have been the last several years. Yet there’s a matured gleam to his eyes that haunts Steve, even as he stares it down. And when he glances to Eddie, looking reasonably the same—immature and dorky—green vest that isn’t zipped up, DIY’d leather jacket, ammo belt, and a pair of ill-fitting shiny boots. Steve can only wonder what it would be like to see Eddie not here, not in these circumstances, in his usual appearance. How more…beautiful he’d be if he weren’t so damned afraid.

If Eddie weren’t staring at Steve with something like goodbye. He forces himself to turn away, to stop looking, to stop wanting when there’s no sure presence of tomorrow. It’s like he’s being gifted a litter of kittens, being told not to get attached. Except, he’s already come up with names and collar colors and places where he could put beds. He’s got an idea of where Eddie would be soft if Steve could touch his skin. What nicknames would make him flush and what petnames would make him melt. Steve doesn’t want to be attached, but at the same time, he doesn’t think he ever had the choice.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie calls to him.

A crunching step forward. Steve forces himself frozen to his spot. His back tenses, shoulders hiking, the axe on his back brushes his hair. It’s cold, the metal is solid and real and sharp. His hands are shaking and his eyes are burning and there’s an iron grip around his lungs. Stomach turning and lurching and falling straight to his feet. He doesn’t turn, not yet. Not with the stern and sudden confidence to Eddie’s voice. Don’t get attached, he’s not yours to keep, a voice echoes deep inside him. I want him. I want him, though, that’s not fair, and that’s the petulant part of him. Something he thought he lost when he knocked on Jonathan Byers’s door.

He expects Eddie to continue, but he doesn’t. The rush of blood is loud in Steve’s ears. There’s no other voices. No other sounds. He’d think that the demo-creatures would’ve sounded off by now, but there’s nothing. The weight of everything, he realizes, is behind him.

Over his shoulder, Eddie’s eyes are fierce. No longer pulling on Steve’s arm, rather squeezing him tight by the shoulders, hauling him into his orbit, pressing their bodies and souls tight. Steve is startled and stirring and flippant. He shouldn’t leave. Doesn’t want to. Not when Eddie is…Eddie is what he wants.

And while his eyes are fierce, they are checking out. Somewhere else. And yet, they’re here. For Steve to fall into. And for him to cradle the sure absence Eddie is preparing to make.

“Make him pay,” Eddie’s voice demands. It’s neutral, neither loud and overbearing nor soft and assuring. His voice is a grenade, ring pulled but hammer still intact. Steve wants to pick it up and place it inside his chest. Wants to obliterate at the impact and sound.

He swallows. Wavers. Nods. And turns away.

But he doesn’t take a first step. He just stands, caught between worlds and passions and full body aches. A shiver crawling up his spine and into the back of his mouth. He swears he tastes it, decay. Something leaving and rotting, just as Eddie’s footsteps begin to retreat. To dissipate. Steve doesn’t want to forget the sound.

Without much on his mind, without any preamble or warning, Steve whirls back around. Stomps inside Eddie’s dusty footprints. Their shoes aligning to one another, the same size. His eyes burn lasers into Eddie’s back, but neither of them stop moving. It’s not until Steve is nearly at the front door to the Munson’s trailer that he’s able to grasp to something. His left hand wraps around Eddie’s right forearm. Gripping with the force of hippopotamus jaws. And he tugs Eddie to him. To face him.

Eddie’s eyes look to him in trepidation. There’s something else, like he’s realizing he’s been caught. An apology forming on the tip of his tongue. Before he can part his lips to say anything, Steve takes his right hand and forces his fingernails to indent into Eddie’s cheeks, squishing his lips to be slightly puckered, and drags him towards his face.

Their noses meet first. Soft and tantalizing. Breathing the same air. Steve, for a moment, can smell Eddie’s breath. And he doesn’t care, that neither of them have brushed their teeth in several days. That they’re tasting each other’s rot and stale words. He doesn’t care.

Slowly, he leans the rest of the way in. Pressing his lips to Eddie’s softly. Just soaking in their warmth. How dry and chapped and splitting they are. Pushes in more firmly, fluttering his eyes shut at the sensation. Breathing in gulps through his nose. Messy and wet on Eddie’s lips, but all the same a: ‘The world is ending, so nothing matters, but you matter and my world will end otherwise.’

And when he pulls his head back, he notices that Eddie wasn’t responsive at all. He wasn’t, but Steve doesn’t feel rejected, for once. Or negated. Or pulled taut and snapped in half. His chest glows with a low-level warmth, radiating between them like a candle’s near-dying flame. He digs his fingernails out of Eddie’s skin and cups his cheeks instead. Like protecting that little bit of light melting away at them. He opens his eyes, met with bewilderment and silence and fear and curiosity and…yearning. But also, there’s something shining back on Eddie’s face like a dream has just come true.

Steve takes a sharp, quick inhale. Whispers, “Don’t be a hero.” He’s already said it, he knows that. But…Eddie was never going to listen and he should’ve known that from the get-go. “Don’t be stupid,” he continues, “and you come back here. Come back to me.”

“Wha—“

“Come back to me,” Steve urges. “I want to know you. And I want to have you. I want to…I want to need you all the time, you understand me? Come back to me, all in one piece, away from danger. Or else I will kill you myself.” He nods once. Swipes his thumb over Eddie’s still jutting bottom lip. “Promise,” he demands lowly, “promise I can see you again.”

Eddie’s gulp is loud between them. His breath puffing hot and cold over Steve’s fingers. But his voice has lost all ferocity. Going soft and controlled and loving. “I promise, Stevie,” he murmurs, “I promise I’ll find you back here.”

Steve nods one more time. Short and affirmative and final. He draws his hands away. Zips up Eddie's vest. And brings them back to being limp at his sides. The very foundation of his being shakes. “Good. And I like that. I like that name, Eds. Call me that again, promise.”

“Promise,” Eddie echoes.

“Not a goodbye,” Steve feels the need to say.

“Just a see you later,” Eddie states. And there’s an honest tone to him that settles all the frayed nerve endings inside of Steve. Before he gets the chance to turn back, Eddie gently cradles his face in turn. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Just for luck,” he murmurs, “be safe.”

There’s a weight in those words, too. Steve tethers to them.

And they ring out at the final blow to Vecna, as the flames engulf on all sides of the house. When they return to one another and all that’s wrong is a splash of ugly dark blood on Eddie’s cheek.

They’re safe. The world will always end, but they’re safe.

💕—————💕 Kiss Ask Game <3

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #Eddie munson lives #angst and #angst and hurt/comfort #first kiss

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mrsvalbaker · 1 month

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Okay but Eddie...

Picked up another job this summer, with the summer carnival coming up, a surprise trip to Disney World, our little town freak has plans for his coffin cutie this summer.

He was to be the pool boy for Loch Nora residents, namely The Cunninghams, and our little batty barbie was pissed about it.

She has every right to be, with Chrissy "Captain of the Cheer Squad" Cunningham, parading around in her high cut bikinis with her perfectly toned body spilling iced tea on her cleavage as Eddie scrubs her pool and mows her manicured lawn.

Was she being a little bratty?

Doesn't she realize Eddie has no interest in Chrissy's cookie cutter body when he has his luscious little witch?

Doesn't she understand he is trying to earn more money for her?

She's clouded by jealousy and rage worthy of a Greek goddess right now.

She made a Chrissy voodoo doll but when that didn't help soothe her anger, she decided to play dirty, she decided to spend more time with Steve "The Hair" Harrington, spending this summer in her black, thong bikini's, the most she wears are obscenely little shorts, Indiana summers are humid and sticky after all.

She and Steve have cold sandwich and firecracker pop picnics in the Hawkins' Cemetary, she makes her homemade orange lemonade that tastes like candy and happens to be Eddie's favorite.

She swims in Lover's Lake in that thong bikini with Steve, having her pretend to drown her.

Eddie can't take it any longer when he hears from Henderson that Steve is having his little succubus over at his mansion for nightly dips in his pool (that Eddie cleaned!) and a private horror summer movie themed marathon.

What if his little moth gets too much of a taste of the good life and doesn't want to return to his trailer and smelly van? What if she likes the security of Harrington's life, what if he can be a better protector?

He would do ANYTHING to prevent that, his little bat made him realize something about himself, Eddie isn't as sweet as he thought, he's actually rather selfish and controlling and while he loves making his Morticia the happiest girl in the morgue, he would rather her stay with him and be unhappy then let her have a chance of happiness with anyone else.

He would maim and possibly kill the guy he has considered his new friend, just to keep her.

He was jumped the Harrington's fence, his parents are vacationing in St. Barts right now while his uncle is on a fishing trip, the difference of their families is astonishing. he opens the back slide door of the mansion and bursts in guns blazing, not literally, but his fists were balled and clad in rings that'd be painful to the face.

He was screaming at the both of them, that they were sorely mistaken if they thought he'd allow them to get away with this that he will rip off Steve's dick and put it down the garbage disposal if he touches his girl, and then he wasn't screaming or making threats anymore, his voice was becoming weak, the thought of her no longer being in his life was too much to bear. He felt sick, his nausea swirling in his guts, he felt clammy and tears were pouring down his sweet face as he fell to his knees and clung to his girl's legs begging her to not leave him, he'll go and rob a bank and case houses to make sure she doesn't go without.

And our little horror bimbo felt so rotten, it went too far. She took it too far, she got lost in a jealous rage and then she did have a lot of fun hanging out with Steve, but just hanging, she doesn't find Steve physically attractive at all, his voice doesn't make her melt, and their hugs were so friendly and not making her heat up like her Eddie Teddie.

And every time she hung out with Steve she felt hollow, missing her Eddie, he is her limb after all, he's her Dr. Frankenstein.

Steve could never be Eddie not even close, he doesn't have that Hershey chocolate kiss gaze, those surprisingly strong arms, that warm embrace when they cuddle, the obsessive looks and touches, his constant worshipping, the smell of his Irish green soap and Brut aftershave and red Marlboro cigarette perfume with the undertone of weed. He smells like smoke and herbs and pine and like the lord of the wood, like her own Cernunnos, and oh how she worships HIM.

She missed playing Dungeons and Dragons with him, missed it ending dirty with him seducing her Witch character, missed him getting excited and nerdy over things, they didnt even go to a concert this summer yet!

She missed her Gomez, her Cernunnos, her daddy.

And she was teary eyed as she apologized profusely and they started eating each others tears and licking each others wounds until they were in a passionate embrace in the middle of Steve's living room and he had to leave his own house to let them make up.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie fanfic #eddie munson x horror!bimbo reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson headcanons #st4 #eddie munson x female reader #horror!bimbo

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sunvmars · 1 year

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sunday morning | s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x afab reader

word count: 3.4k summary: a rainy day ruins your date plans, so steve brings the date to you warnings: lots of kissing, lots of smiling, its actually just fluff galore. light swearing, smut mentions a/n: thinking this might be part of a fall writing collection, i thrive in autumn and its my favorite season to write for

The morning had started with a promisingly clear and sunny sky paired with an autumn breeze that was just right. By definition, it was the most fitting weather for the picnic you had planned. You'd had this picnic date planned with Steve for weeks; both of you took a vacation day from work so you couldn't be called in. Last night you even added the finishing touches to the pie you made specifically for this date. You figured you'd make and pack the rest of the food before you left, that way nothing gets stale or soggy.

However, that wouldn't be needed now. The morning was deceitful, to say the least, and now the rain was pouring non-stop. It had started as a slight drizzle that Steve reassured you would most likely pass within the hour. Now, though, thick raindrops pattered heavily against the windows of your shared high-rise apartment. The sound of the rain was typically soothing, but today it felt almost condescending like the clouds had planned this cruel trick.

"Why does Mother Nature hate us?" you frown, eyebrows furrowed together. Your gaze flickers across the rainy city from your living room window as you pout. "Make it go away, Stevie."

You hear him chuckle behind you mere seconds before you feel his arms wrap around your waist. He pulls you back against his chest gently. His chin comes to rest on top of your head as he looks at the rain-soaked cityscape.

"You know I would if I could," he murmurs before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "I'm sorry, doll. I know you were looking forward to this."

Your body leans into his to soak up his comforting warmth. "It's just... I've had this planned for us for weeks, and now it's ruined," you sigh, voice laced with utter disappointment.

Steve tightens his embrace, his chest rising and falling in a calming rhythm. A light sigh falls from his lips and the warm air brushes by your ear. He doesn't respond, and not because he doesn't know how to, but rather because he's searching his brain for ways to make it up to you. It only takes a few moments for an idea to pop into his head.

"I might have a solution," he says, breaking the silence.

"Oh yeah?" you question. You turn in his arms to face him. "Let's hear it."

His eyes trace over your features and he smiles down at you. Softened blue eyes meet yours as he rubs circles into your lower back with his thumb.

"It's a bit of a surprise," he says. "So, as much as I love seeing you in this dress, why don't you go change back into something comfortable and I'll come get you when I'm done, hm? Give me, say, fifteen minutes."

He brings one hand up to run a finger under the thick halter strap of your brown gingham dress. You return the smile back to him, your eyes lighting up as you stare up at him. His heart skips a few beats, as it does a lot in moments like these. It truly is the simple moments such as these where he cherishes you most.

You offer a nod in response, your cheeks raising ever so slightly when you smile up at him. "Alright, surprise me then, but it better be good."

Steve leans down to place a chaste kiss on your lips. "When have I ever let you down, doll?" he asks rhetorically.

"Never," you reply, leaning in to steal another kiss. "At least not yet."

He smiles against your lips as he chuckles. "Good point," he concedes before releasing you from his embrace. "Go on, get dressed, and I'll come get you soon."

You turn to head to the bedroom but make it just mere inches away before he delivers a playful spank to your backside. A small gasp of surprise escapes you and your face heats up at the teasing smack. When you turn back around to shoot him a mock glare, his hands raise in the air defensively as if he's innocent.

"Watch it, Rogers."

"Okay, okay. You got me," he laughs, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I'll be on my best behavior, but you can't blame me for wanting to touch my pretty girl when she looks absolutely divine."

The compliment makes your lips spread thin into a wide smile. "You're so damn lucky I find your compliments so persuasive," you respond before disappearing into the bedroom to change.

Once inside the bedroom, you find soft, well-worn jeans and your favorite sweater you'd stolen from Steve when you first started dating. You slip out of your dress and then slide into the more comfortable clothing. After getting dressed, you take a moment to step over in front of the dresser mirror and straighten out your stray pieces of hair. Your thoughts race with anticipation about what he has planned; he always has had a knack for planning surprises for you.

While you wait on the bed for him to finish, Steve puts the finishing touches on his surprise. He readjusts the pillows and blankets of the fort he's created to make them as fluffy and comfortable as possible. He lights a few more candles to create a mellow, glowing environment he knows will be sure to cheer you up.

With everything now in its place, he turns on soft music and takes a minute to glance over his handiwork to make sure it suits his standards for you. He takes a quick glance up at the clock and finds that he's right on time to show you the atmosphere he'd set up. His heart races, his nerves unsettling as he heads to the bedroom.

Gently, he pushes the door open to find you sitting on the bed, your sweater-clad figure looking rather cozy. The sight of you replaces the previous nervousness and has his heart pounding and swelling up with affection. He can't help but admire you for a few seconds; your hair is tidied but still tousled from getting undressed, his sweater lying loosely over your form, and a content smile on your face. To him, you are the most beautiful sight he could ever see.

Steve approaches you, his smile matching yours. "Somehow, you manage to look even better every time I see you," he states, his eyes filled with adoration. "I think it's the sweater- it looks awfully familiar, like maybe I had one like it at some point."'

You giggle at his remark. "Oh, you think so? I guess you do have good taste after all."

"That I do," he coos. He leans down so that his lips ghost over yours. "You wear it better than I ever could, doll."

His lips capture yours in a tender kiss as he places his hands on your waist. You sigh quietly into the kiss, your fingers finding their way into his silky sleek hair. The feeling of his mouth on yours sends a wave of heat through you. His fingers dig gently into your sides as he scoots you to the edge of the bed and closer to him. You deepen the kiss, savoring the taste and familiarity of his lips.

Both of you are left breathless when you finally pull apart. His forehead rests on yours as you catch your breath. Steve looks lovingly at you, blue eyes filled with a solacing warmth.

"I could kiss you like that all day, you know that?" he whispers with a voice that's now a little husky.

You beam, your cheeks warming up again. "I wouldn't mind that at all," you start, "But maybe tomorrow, I do believe you owe me a surprise right about now."

"You're absolutely right about that, my love." He pulls back and stands straight up, his hand reaching out for you to take. "Let's not keep you waiting any longer, hm?"

You happily take his hand; the warmth of his large fingers wrapping around yours still sends a shiver down your spine. "Lead the way," you say as you rise from the bed.

Steve leads you out of the bedroom with your hand securely in his. When you step into the living room, your eyes widen in surprise at the scene that greets you. On the floor before you is the most snug-looking fort crafted from the fluffiest pillows and blankets you own. There are candles placed on almost every stable surface in the living room all the way to the dining room and onto the kitchen bar.

A soft glow from the candles dances across the room, adding just the right amount of light in the darkened room. The low glass coffee table that usually resides in the middle of the living room is now pushed against the tv stand to make room for the fort. He'd even taken it upon himself to set up trays around the fort with your favorite sandwiches, a fruit platter, and the pie you finished up yesterday.

He had created the perfect atmosphere to both cheer you up and accompany the rainy weather outside. You stand still in awe, his eyes stay glued to you as you take in your surroundings. His stomach churns while he watches you closely for any hint of a reaction. When you turn to face him after a few moments of silence, he sees that familiar twinkle in your eyes and he's immediately reassured.

Your gaze flickers up to him, your body follows suit and you turn to face him. "Stevie," you murmur. "This is...perfect."

"I'm glad you like it, doll," he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "You deserve nothing less than perfect."

You lean into his delicate touch and take in the fondness in his eyes. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Rogers," you tease with a smirk. "You sure there's not anybody else you're trying these methods out on before me, hm?"

"Oh, honey," Steve chuckles in response. His fingers slide down your cheek to trace your jawline, "I promise, you're the only one who gets the full Steve Rogers experience. No one else could ever compare to my pretty girl," he speaks, his voice honeyed.

The silky words make you shiver, butterflies fluttering in your stomach just as they did when you first met him. His hands come to rest on yours and your fingers interlock once more. You move closer to him to meet his lips in an affectionate, lingering kiss; a silent way of saying how much you appreciate his efforts.

His lips curve into a thin smile against yours and his mouth moves with as much hunger as yours. The kiss deepens for a moment as he applies more pressure onto your lips, but he pulls back before he loses the willpower to break apart from you. While it only lasted a few fleeting moments, the kiss was meaningful and telling.

"I might have to take you up on that offer for kissing all day tomorrow," he jokes, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

"I'll hold you to that, Rogers," you reply, a playful glint flickering in your eyes.

He grins, "I'll be looking forward to it."

With that, he leads you over to the fort with your fingers still interlinked. You watch your step, fully aware of the food and slipper blankets under your feet. He crouches down and settles himself into the inviting fort first then waits for you to join him. You crouch down like he did and go to plop down beside him.

Before you can take your spot, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his lap. His arms cradle you as he looks down at you mischievously. He cocks an eyebrow up playfully, fingers digging carefully into your thighs and upper arm.

"You come here often?" he teases.

A grimace shows on his face as soon as the words roll off his tongue. The joke, though not meant to be an innuendo, makes his face flush with the lightest pink. His face scrunches up in disgust and you can't help but laugh. The prior embarrassment seems to disappear when your giggles meet his ears.

"And to think that I even imagined that you use these moves on other people," you tease back. "You've been spending too much time with Tony."

"You're not gonna let this one go, are you?"

"Nope," you say, popping the 'p.'

The grip he has on you tightens, contentment fulfilling his being. "What do you want first, my love?"

"I could go for a sandwich," you smile.

Both of you begin to enjoy the picnic spread he prepared. At some point, you'd managed to slide out of arms and in between his legs. The two of you continue to talk and steal sweet kisses in between bites as you eat. The rain outside and previous plans seem like a distant memory as you get lost in the uninterrupted time with each other. Every time he glances at you, his gaze holds nothing but undiluted admiration that makes you feel giddy. And every time you giggle at one of his cheesy jokes, his heart hammers in his chest.

Your back and head rest on his chest as you make your way through your final half sandwich. Steve uses one hand to eat and occasionally brings a piece of fruit to your mouth while his free arm wraps around your waist protectively. Although he tries to hide it, he's been staring down the apple pie since you sat down.

"Geez, Stevie- you drool any harder over that pie and I'm gonna start to get jealous over here," you jape, reaching forward to pull the pie tray towards you.

Steve snorts and his lips curl into a grin, "Well, we can't have that, now can we?" he says, placing a few kisses on your shoulder when you lean back onto him.

You smile to yourself as you cut a generous slice of pie for him. You reach back to hand him the plate and he accepts it with a nod of appreciation. Carefully, he cuts himself a bite and brings it to his mouth. He groans as he chews the treat slowly, fully absorbing the flavors as you look at him expectantly.

"So? How is it?"

"Incredible, just like it always is."

"Well," you start, the appraisal makes you smile yet again. "I do have to keep up with your super soldier appetite somehow, right?"

"You're amazing at everything you do," he says admirably.

He stabs a piece onto the fork and brings it up to your lips. Your mouth opens, allowing him to feed you a decently sized bite of the pie. The sweetness of the filling and the slightly savory, flaky crust dance on your taste buds. Your eyes close in delight, your head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. He watches you savor the bite with a knowing smirk on his face.

"See, it is good, huh?" he questions, his voice low and soothing.

You nod, your eyes still closed, reveling in the taste of the pie. "Oh yeah," you sigh. "Totally drool-worthy."

"Like I said, it always is." He chuckles at your quip, the vibrations from his chest being sent through you. "It's not the only drool-worthy thing here though."

Your eyes open to look up at him as you mock a shocked gasp and stifle your giggle, "Steven Grant, you are something else today."

"Ah, just keeping you on your toes."

"You do a good job of it," you admit with a playful shake of your head.

"Good to hear," he grins, turning his head to kiss your cheek.

The music still plays quietly in the background to provide a comforting ambiance as you snuggle into him. You take the silence between you two as a chance to silently appreciate the man behind you. His steady heartbeat can be felt against your back, his calm breathing rocking you gently. Everything about him is promising and admirable- the way he loves you, how he holds you, the love in his eyes when he looks at you.

There's, truthfully, no other man that could compare to Steve. Your Steve.

"Thank you," you finally speak up, breaking the silence.

He absorbs the gratitude in your voice with a smile. "Anything for you, you know that," he reassures you, "I'd do all this and more a thousand times to keep that pretty smile on that beautiful face."

"I'm the luckiest person in the world to have you," you whisper, your voice laced with genuine affection.

"The lucky one here is all me, doll."

He tightens his hold on you, and for a second, the two of you simply bask in the warmth of each other. He's almost ready to drag you to bed to take a nap with him but then he remembers his plans for a movie.

"Would you like to watch something? Your pick this time," he offers.

You nod in agreement and he hands the remote to you. You start scrolling through the movie options, and after a bit of deliberation about which movie to watch, you finally settle on your favorite comedy.

As the movie begins, you snuggle deeper into Steve's welcoming embrace. Pure joy courses through your veins as he runs his fingers through your hair. The laughter from the movie fills the air and blends in with the soft crackling of the candles. The patter of the rain still sounds on the large windows of the living room, dark clouds still covering the sky.

You steal glances at him throughout the movie, unable to imagine that this perfect moment could've been replaced with something else had it not rained.

"I love you, so much," he says softly, fingers scratching softly on your scalp. "More than I could put into words, sweetheart."

Your head leans into his touch. "And I love you," you promise. "So, what's after this? Any more plans?" you ask.

He ponders for a moment. Originally, he'd planned to just lounge for the remainder of the day, but now he's having second thoughts. Most times he'd have enough self-control to keep his hands off of you, but today is different. Maybe it started when he'd seen you in his favorite dress of yours, or it could be the rainy weather, or maybe it was when he saw you in his sweater. Either way, he knows he has to have you.

"I think I wanna get started on that 'kissing all day' a little early," he coos as his lips brush your ear.

A cool shiver runs down your spine at his suggestiveness. You smirk as you turn your head to face him. The atmosphere shifts; air that was once light now thickens with desire.

"So early, Captain? The movie isn't even halfway through."

"Sometimes you just can't wait for the good part," he murmurs in response.

You turn around to face him fully, his legs straightening so you can straddle him. "I guess we could always pause it."

His eyes darken with need and his mouth collides with yours in a heated kiss. Large, soft hands explore your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your figure through the soft fabric of his your sweater. The taste of his lips on yours and the feeling of him touching you consumes your senses. You lose yourself in the intensity of the moment and everything else fades into the background.

Each kiss somehow becomes deeper and more intense than the last. Steve's hands find their way under the sweater, his touch on your skin sending an electric pulse through your stomach. He grabs at your waist with his fingers digging roughly into the flesh.

"Steve," you whine against his lips.

He pulls away slightly to lock eyes with you. "I need you," he rasps, his voice husky and low.

"Then take me," you taunt, a grin on your face.

And he doesn't need any more convincing. He pulls his hands out from under your sweater, tapping your bottom to tell you to stand. You do so, and he follows right after you. With one fluid motion, he scoops you up into his arms again.

"Stevie!" you yelp, fingers digging into his arm for support.

"I did say I need you," he says with a smirk as he carries you to the bedroom.

a/n: ugh i just know im gonna make a smutty part two to this, i cant resist. also! if you'd like to be on my general taglist to be tagged whenever i upload a new fic, feel free to ask :)

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #steve rogers fluff #captain america fluff #steve rogers x reader fluff #captain america x reader fluff #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #marvel fluff

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starvory777 · 4 months

Text

the perfect bet🚩

part 2

pairing: bad boy!Jay x new girl!reader.

genre: romance, angst, fluff, bad boy-good girl trope, new girl trope, smut, strangers to lovers, the bet trope, fast paced story.

warnings: smut, violence, use of alcohol, lots of dialogue.

taglist: @yourbeomiebear @kyunlov @jooniesbears-blog @yizhoutv @en-happiness @cloud-lyy @star4rin @engenesengenes333 @deobitifull @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @kirinaa08 @avaleyshin @heeseungswifefr @icepshrince @sophi-ee @seonghwaexile (16/25 people on my taglist. comment or send me an inbox to be added! if i can’t find your account, i will not tag you)

word count: 1.5k+

masterlist

reblogs are appreciated!

"YOU WHAT!?" wonhee exclaimed in shock as you disclosed your invitation to a party.

"keep your voice down, wonhee! mom's going to freak if she finds out..." you attempted to placate your sister, but she darted off to inform your mom nonetheless.

"MOMMY~! Y/N's BEEN INVITED TO A PARTY!" her shrill voice pierced through the house, summoning both your parents to sprint up the stairs with remarkable speed.

"Y/N's WHAT? oh, my baby, i'm so proud of you! your first-ever party since wonhee's 6th birthday," your mom exclaimed, feigning to wipe away a fake tear.

"my Y/N-nie has grown so much! she's even invited to a grown-up party," your dad chimed in, aggravating you further.

"guys, i'm capable of socializing," you huffed, eliciting peculiar glances from your family.

"yeah, sure," wonhee rolled her eyes. "let's pick you an outfit!" she giggled as she whisked you towards your wardrobe, but as soon as she swung it open, her complexion paled.

"mom..." she turned to your mother. "she has no clothes," wonhee lamented, rushing into your mom's embrace, which sparked laughter from your parents. however, you remained unimpressed.

"Y/N darling, borrow some clothes from wonhee. i'm sure you guys are the same size. your dad and i will be downstairs; don't forget to show us your outfit when you're done!" your mom suggested before departing with your dad, leaving you and your sister to retreat to her room.

"wonhee, it's not a big deal. i can just wear one of my dresses," you sighed as she began rummaging through her extensive wardrobe.

"one of your dresses, meaning your nun ones? nu-uh! it's the golden trio's first party of the semester; you have to look smoking hot." you resigned yourself to her insistence as she presented her options.

the first was overly provocative: a white corset top that accentuated your bust paired with a short silver sequin skirt that left little to the imagination. the second offered no breathing room with a tight bralette and the shortest shorts imaginable. seeing your discontent, wonhee grew frustrated. "my dear sister, what do YOU want to wear?"

you scanned her closet before fixing your gaze on a white mini dress. "what about that one?" you suggested.

wonhee eagerly handed it to you, urging you to try it on. surprisingly, you liked it. the dress hugged your curves flawlessly, falling just below your hips, revealing just a hint of your chest and back.

"you look amazing! i think some steve madden heels would complement it perfectly, along with accessories, of course. sit, i'll do your makeup." and so, you entrusted her with the task. your makeup turned out splendidly, the curls in your hair completing the ensemble. somehow, you found yourself enjoying this impromptu makeover.

"come on, let's show mom and dad how stunning you look," wonhee exclaimed, handing you a purse to match your outfit as you descended the staircase with confidence. as expected, your parents adored your look, though your dad found it slightly excessive, relenting under the persuasion of your mom and sister.

after wonhee finished preparing for her sleepover, your dad chauffeured you both to your respective destinations. upon dropping off wonhee, he parked outside the house where the party was hosted, a few blocks away. glancing at the time—7:32—you straightened your dress before making your way to the front door and ringing the bell.

“who are—OH hi, Y/N!” sunghoon said before welcoming you in, guiding you inside.

you gave your dad one last look before going inside the house, suddenly engulfed by loud music, the smell of cigarettes hitting your nose, and the flashing lights blinding your eyes.

“make yourself at home. we have drinks, snacks, bedrooms are upstairs, don’t use my parents’ one though. aaaaand, jay’s there.” he pointed towards the boy clad in a basketball jersey with loose pants. even with his simple look, jay looked somewhat…attractive.

“Y/N! you made it.” jay beamed at your presence, welcoming you with a warm hug.

you froze upon his friendly action. hesitantly, you pulled away as soon as you got stuffy. “yeah, wouldn’t miss it..” you mumbled.

“come on, i’ll introduce you to some people,” jay offered, leading you through the crowded living room. you noticed several familiar faces from school, but also a few you didn’t recognize.

as you followed jay, he guided you to a group gathered around a table. “everyone, this is Y/N,” jay announced, drawing curious glances from the group.

“hey, Y/N! i’m jake,” one of the guys said, giving you a friendly smile, you just nodded as a response.

“alright, that’s all! let’s get you a drink,” jay suggested, steering you towards the kitchen. the counters were lined with an assortment of bottles and cups. “what would you like? we have punch, soda, and…other stuff,” he said while pointing towards the big selection.

“i’ll just have some punch,” you decided, not wanting to dive into the harder stuff just yet. jay handed you a cup, and you took a cautious sip. it was fruity and sweet, with just a hint of something stronger.

“thanks..” you said, taking another sip and looking around. the music was loud, and people were dancing in the living room. the atmosphere was lively, but you started to feel a bit overwhelmed.

“do you mind if i take a breather for awhile? i’m not into this crowd..” you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“of course, let’s head up to my room. it’s quieter there,” jay said, guiding you up the stairs. you passed by other partygoers, but the noise started to fade as you reached the second floor. jay led you to his room and opened the door, revealing a cozy space with posters on the walls and a neatly made bed.

“make yourself comfortable,” he said, closing the door behind you. you sat on the bed, feeling the tension in your shoulders start to ease.

“i presume you must be close to sunghoon, seeing that you practically have a room here.” you confessed, looking around his room.

“i guess. i stay at his house most of the time, at least when it’s too noisy in my house.” he shrugs.

“oh.. what’s causing the noise in your house?” you asked as you took a seat on his bed.

he looked at you reluctantly before answering, knowing that for his plan to work, he needed to open up to you.

“it’s my parents. they.. they.. keep fighting. it’s like, if you’re so prone with each other, why not get a divorce? but then what would be of me.”

what came out of his mouth was unexpected. how come, the “perfect” boy at decelis high, turned out to be someone with these problems.

“hey, it’s not your fault.” you say, as you struggle to find the words to comfort him.

“thanks Y/N.” he offered you a tight smile.

as the conversation continued, you felt more at ease. jay was easy to talk to, and he made you feel seen. after a while, you noticed a bottle of whiskey on his dresser.

“mind if i have some of that?” you asked, nodding towards the bottle.

jay hesitated. “are you sure? it’s pretty strong.”

“yeah, just a little,” you insisted, needing something to take the edge off. jay poured a small amount into a cup and handed it to you. you took a sip, feeling the burn as it went down.

before you knew it, one sip turned into several, and you felt yourself getting tipsy. jay noticed and gently took the cup from you.

“hey, i think you’ve had enough,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

“maybe you’re right,” you slurred, giggling. “i’ve never drank before.”

“yeah, i can tell,” jay said with a chuckle. “come on, let’s get you home.”

he helped you to your feet, supporting you as you stumbled. “wait, i need your address. can you tell me where you live, Y/N?” he asked you but realized that you’re too drunk to make of anything, so he took the liberty of calling your sibling.

wonhee’s number wasn’t hard to find as you saved her number “wonhee my little sister” and she was on the top of your call list.

“hey, wonhee, it’s jay. Y/N’s had a bit too much to drink. can you give me your address so i can take her home?” he listened for a moment, then nodded, not knowing that on the other side of the phone is a teenager who is so ready to hear what happened between the most popular boy and her nerdy sister.

jay carefully guided you down the stairs and out to his car. he buckled you in and started the engine, driving carefully to your house. when you arrived, he helped you up the steps and rang the doorbell.

your parents answered, their expressions shifting from worry to relief when they saw you with jay.

“thank you so much for bringing her home,” your mom said, guiding you inside.

“it’s no problem. i wanted to make sure she got home safe,” jay replied.

“would you like to stay the night? it’s late, and we have a guest room.”

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