#Steve glares at him every time he tells the story

[estrellami-1]

Special thanks to @nburkhardt for not only allowing but actively encouraging me in this! ❤️

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Steve says.

At the same moment, the handsome stranger (a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Robin is criticizing what exactly he’s taking the time to notice right now) says, “What the fuck was that for?”

Steve flails in a very Robin-like way. “Traffic! That you almost ran into? Have you heard of death, dude?” He pushes a hand through his hair. “And even beyond that, how are you still alive after touching me?”

Supers—people with supernatural abilities—weren’t exactly spoken about in polite society, but they did exist, more so in the big cities. This town was a bit too small to have a very large population, but it wouldn’t be unusual to see someone float by, or someone with green skin, or any other number of things. So Steve didn’t really care about sharing his secret.

The handsome stranger furrows his brows. “After… touching you?” He asks, then moves forward again to poke Steve in his bicep. It was covered by his shirt sleeve, so Steve just rolls his eyes and moves away. “Don’t,” he snaps. The stranger lifts his hands in a show of surrender. “But… yes. Touch. Me, not my clothes.” He wraps his arms around himself. “Anyone who touches me dies.”

The stranger seems to think that through, then grins and extends his hand as if to shake. “Hi,” he says. “I’m Eddie. And I can’t die.” He suddenly seems to realize what Steve had just said, and he drops his hand and jaw at the same time. “Wait,” he says. “You- you’ve not been touched? Ever?”

Steve shrugs, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. “Not unless I want people to die, and I don’t, so.” He shrugs again.

Eddie makes a small, wounded noise in the back of his throat. “Can- Jesus H. Christ, dude. Can I hug you?”

Steve blinks. “What?”

“A hug,” Eddie says again. “I want to hug you. People are supposed to get a certain amount every day or it can leave you, like, depressed or shit, I dunno.” He opens his arms to Steve, and Steve finds himself considering it, taking a small step forward.

“And you… can’t die?” He asks again. He knows what he saw, knows what he felt, knows skin touched skin, and here Eddie is, alive and well, in front of him…

“Nope,” Eddie grins. “Well, technically, like, old age? I can die of old age. But your ability can’t do anything.” He takes a careful step forward. “I did feel it. It felt warm.” He smiles. “It felt… nice.”

This is how Steve dies. Right here. Cardiac arrest from a handsome stranger who can’t die calling Steve’s death-touch ‘nice.’

Said handsome stranger’s face drops suddenly, just before Steve’s vision blurs, and he belatedly realizes he’s crying. “Shit,” he mutters, wiping at his face. “Sorry- shit, I dunno what’s wrong with me-”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Eddie soothes, efficiently maneuvering them out of the way and into a small alley between buildings. Before Steve has time to protest anything, Eddie’s pulling his (bare!) hands away from his face, and wiping the tears off his (bare!) cheeks, which really just makes Steve cry that much more. “Oh, fuck,” Eddie says, “I’m not great at thinking things through, am I, you’re freaking out about me being able to touch you, and then I go and touch you more, I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry, uh, but it’s okay to cry?”

He rambles just like Robin does, and it’s so comforting that Steve eventually stops crying anyways, mainly just sniffling and wiping at errant tears. “Sorry,” he manages again. “I didn’t mean to completely lose it on you.”

“Don’t apologize yet,” Eddie says soberly, “I was completely serious about that hug if you want it.”

Steve thinks about it for probably less time than he should before he tentatively nods. “Okay,” he whispers. “Um. Yes, please.”

Eddie smiles kindly at him and pulls him into a hug, the first one he can ever remember where they’re not both completely dressed up, clothes touching everywhere they possibly could. He can feel Eddie’s cheek against his own, he can feel Eddie’s hand running over his hair, and he shuts his eyes and burrows his face into the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder, trying his best to steady his breathing. “There you go,” Eddie’s murmuring, tracing a slow, steady hand up and down Steve’s back. “Breathe with me, Stevie, c’mon, you got this.”

After another little bit Steve’s heart and breathing finally settle, and Eddie pulls away with a grin. “See? Still alive,” he says, and Steve can’t do much other than laugh, loud and long and relieved.

“Thank you,” he finally murmurs. “I’ve never met anyone like you.” He means the abilities, but decides to extend the meaning to Eddie in general, who winks at him like he knows Steve’s exact thought process.

“And I’ve never met anyone like you,” Eddie murmurs. “Tell me if this is too forward? But if I- your phone number-”

Steve grins and grabs Eddie’s phone before he has a chance to finish even trying to explain. “And I hope I’m not being too forward if I ask you to lunch?”

Eddie grins back, and suddenly Steve’s whole future seems brighter.

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Saw a prompt and couldn’t let it go, so enjoy! 🥰 (no dialogue because I can’t figure that part out)

Steve has always craved touch even though he never got it.

His parents found out his unique ability at a young age when Steve touched his aunt and she immediately fell to the floor dead. Just from his skin touching hers. After that he wasn’t allowed any sort of touch, his parents warned anyone and everyone to avoid touching him. Near everyone in town knows, knows to avoid touch with him; stays away from him.

Steve manages, as much as someone can with deadly powers.

He figured out how to get his own comfort from plush toys and once he figured out when others touch his clothes first, nothing happens. He figures wearing sleeves and pants and gloves will always be his best options.

Still touch-starved though.

He has friends, but no one wants to get super close. Too afraid to accidentally touch. His parents leave often, also too afraid of his ability.

Eddie was told by his Uncle Wayne that he was special.

That when he was five, he was in a terrible car accident that should’ve killed him. It did kill his mom, but the emts and doctors were shocked that Eddie was fine. He was hurt, sure, but completely fine otherwise.

So, he grew to be little reckless. Lives on the edge and found out at sixteen that he can’t die. After several visits with specialists, it was officially confirmed.

He’s able to get hurt, pretty badly sometimes. But besides that, he can’t die. Which scares him just a bit but not enough to stop living life on the edge.

Steve leaves his hometown as soon as he can with only his things and a plan to get as far away as he can from all the people who are afraid of him.

He’s also afraid, so afraid that he’s not only touch-starved but also a little touch averse now. Doesn’t want anyone to die just by simply touching him. He might want touch, but will always be afraid.

They meet by chance, but mostly because of Eddie being a reckless idiot and his friends daring him to try running across very busy traffic. Which, as the daredevil he is, Eddie attempts to do it.

He’s only stopped by Steve freaking out at seeing it. For once, Steve acts before his brain catches up with him. Just throws his gloveless hand and grabs hold on Eddie’s arm to force him to stop moving.

Eddie jerks back and for a split second, feels a warmth before it fades. He’s taken back, annoyed at being stopped but also very confused. Most people that live here, know him. Know that he can get hurt but can’t die.

So this random person grabbing hold of his arm is new.

The touch registers in Steve’s head minutes later, as Eddie stares at him. He immediately lets go with wide eyes and panicking. But instead of the guy dropping dead, he’s still standing.

Eventually they’ll talk, they’ll learn each other’s abilities and someday in the future learn to love each other.

~~

Sooo, I can’t figure out how to work out dialogue into this. Or really flesh out their abilities. But it’s a thing! If you want to take this and pick it apart, you’re definitely welcome to do so! (If you do tag me!)

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[harrietswriting]

hiiii!!! do you think you could do something with the gang (separately) being protective of reader? its okay if you dont want to though!!! totally up to you 💕💕

The Gang Being Protective

The outsiders x fem!reader

an: I tried to give them all different plots so it wasn't repetitive. Thank you for the request and sorry this took SOOO long. (This request is so old and this took me WAY too long I'm sorry 😭) please leave more requests guys!

W: men being gross and creepy, swearing, not proof read

Darry Curtis

Darry Curtis normally isn't one for parties, but you convinced him to go to one with you. He was, unfortunately, not having the best time. But you were. You were drinking and dancing and having the time of your life. You pulled Darry around with you as you chatted with your friends, acquaintances, total strangers, anyone.

Some time into the party, the two of you got separated. You were getting another drink and talking to a old classmate from high-school. A guy approaches you, and you immediately get a bad feeling.

"Hey sweet thing." He slurs with a smirk.

You grip your drink tighter and it takes everything in you not to show your disgust on your face. "Hi."

"You look good enough to eat. Let's get outta here, yeah?" He steps way to close to you.

Ew. "No thank-"

"No, she doesn't." A familiar, stern voice cuts you off as a muscular arms is wrapped around your shoulders.

You glance up at him. He's glaring daggers at the man who talked to you.

The man scoffed. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Her boyfriend. Now why don't you back the hell up?" His voice is stern, deep, and angry.

The guy scoffs again, rolls his eyes, and walks away. "Whatever.."

Darry turns his attention to you. "Are you alright, y/n?" He asks tenderly.

You nod. "Thank you."

"Of course, darling, you don't have to thank me." He kisses your forehead.

Sodapop Curtis

"Can you hand me a wrench?" Soda asks you as he sticks his hand out from under the Curtis's truck. The poor old thing had broke from the hundredth time and he was in charge of fixing it.

You grab a wrench out off the tool box beside you and hand it to him. "Here."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

The only reason you're here, sitting on the curb while Soda fixes up the car, is because you had come over to tell him something. You were a little nervous to tell him. You've heard stories from your friends about how their past boyfriends weren't cool with stuff like this.

"Hey, Soda?" You say while staring down at your hands.

"Yeah?" He calls back from under the car.

"I'm going with my friend tomorrow, so we have to cancel our date."

"Oh." He slides out from under the car and sits up, looking at you. "You can't go any other day?"

You shake your head. "He's only going to be in town a few days, and tomorrow is the only day he's free." You explain.

His eyebrows furrow and he looks untrusting. "He?"

You nod. "We were friends in elementary school, but then he moved away."

"Oh." He thinks this over for a minute. "It's not like a date, right?"

Youre taken aback. "What? No, of course not. We're just hanging out as friends, babe."

"Good." He nods and ponders this again for a moment. "Can I go?"

"Do you not trust me?" You ask, feeling slightly hurt.

He shakes his head. "No, of course I trust you. I don't trust this guy I've never meant. Plus, if he's your friend, I wanna meet him." He smiles. Soda did like knowing all the people in your life. He had wanted to meet your family and friends as soon as possible.

"I- I don't know. I haven't seen him in so long, and it might be weird with you there. He doesn't know you, you don't know him. I want you to meet him too, but I don't want to make it awkward with you there the whole time. Don't you think it's annoying when people drag their partners to every hang out."

"Yeah, okay. Hm.. how about I drop you off and meet him when I drop you off." He smiles, knowing that that's a good suggestion.

You smile too. "Sure. That sounds like a good plan, Soda."

Steve Randle

Shelves don't restock themselves, so Steve was stocking them while complaining to you. You ate some chips he bought you while he ranted.

"I got this job so I could work on cars, not restock shelves." He told you.

"Do you want me to help you?" You offer.

"No, no. Its my job. And I don't need us both losing our minds cause of how boring this is."

You laugh. "Okay."

He finishes stocking everything in the box he had, so he goes into the back to get another. He kisses you before going.

You crumple up your empty bag of chips and look for a trash can to throw it away in. The bell by the door rings, meaning someone entered the gas station. You find a trash can and toss the chip bag from a short distance, but somehow, you miss. So, you bend down to pick it up.

And then you hear a whistle. You think it's Steve trying to tease you for a moment, until you turn around and see some random guy. He was smirking at you too. What the hell?

"What the hell?" A familiar voice asks angrily. You turn your head and see Steve walking over to you while glaring at the guy. "Why're you whistling at my girl?"

"Hey, man. I didn't know that she'd been claimed." He raises his hands.

Claimed? You scoff.

"Claimed? " Steve says, "She's a human being, not a, fucking parking spot or something. Why don't you get the hell outta my store." He crosses his arms.

The guys shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and huffs. "Whatever." Then he turns and leaves.

"Fucking asshole." Steve shakes his head then looks down at you. "You okay?"

You smile. "Yes, thank you."

He uncrosses his arms and reaches for your hand, taking it in his. "You don't have to thank me, baby."

Two-Bit Matthews

It was a chilly afternoon, and you and Two-Bit were walking around town together. You were wearing his jacket and his arm was around you. You were talking about random stuff and laughing together. The two of you had just left a diner and were now walking to your house.

You always had a blast when you were with Two-Bit. He was funny and surprisingly sweet. He made you feel lighter and just being around him calmed you down. He was familiar.

The two of talk about school, friends, life, anything that pops into your minds. All is going great until you pass a guy who's leans against the side of a building, smoking a cigarette. He whistles at you. A somewhat small sound that was absolutely unnerving. It immediately made you uncomfortable. And of course Two-Bit heard it and noticed your change in energy.

"Has that ever worked for you?" Two-Bit asks the guy angrily as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

"Huh?" The creep looks you the both of you.

"I said, 'has that ever worked for you?' Because I'm guessin' it hasn't." Two-Bit had stopped walking and was looking back at the guy.

"I- fuck off, man." He turns to leave.

"Leave girls like mine alone, wacko!" Two-Bit calls as the guy walks away. Then he turns his head to look at you. "I'm sorry, baby." He says.

"Oh, it's okay. I'm fine." You say as you two begin to walk down the sidewalk again.

"But it's not okay. Guys shouldn't be whistling at or cat calling you, baby. Ticks me off." He lets go of your waist and holds your hand.

You squeeze his hand, appreciating his concern and protection. "Thanks for standing up for me."

He shrugs. "Don't mention it, I owed you, you got lunch."

Dallas Winston

Dallas loves to show you off. He loves getting to let people know that you're his. He loves watching other guys disappointed faces when you're all over him.

You were hesitant to wear such a short skirt to the party at Buck's, but Dallas was quick to reassure you.

"You look absolutely gorgeous. Good enough to eat, doll." He held you from behind as you gazed into your mirror. So it was settled. You wore the skirt.

Unfortunately, that meant you got stares.

One man in particular had been staring at you all night. At first, you thought you were imagining things, seeing him the corner of your eye, but you kept making eye contact with him. It was making you uncomfortable.

"That guy over there is staring at me." You whisper to Dallas, peeking over your shoulder at him.

Dallas tightens his arm around your waist. He looks in the direction you're looking. He makes eye contact with the man, causing the man to look away.

"I'll talk to him."

Only Dallas Winston doesn't "talk" to people who have pissed him off, and he's clearly pissed off. Now, you'd be happy to see this guy get slugged, but you really didn't want Dallas getting into a fight. So, you grab his hand when he starts to walk away.

"Dallas–"

"I'm just gonna talk to him, I promise." He squeezes your hand then pulls his away. He walks over the man and you lag slowly behind him, really hoping this doesn't end in violence.

Dallas approaches him. "Hey man, my girl doesn't like being stared at by creeps like you. I think should you cut it out."

The man scoffs. "Maybe she shouldn't dress like a that then. I can look if I'd like."

"She can dress how ever the hell she pleases, doesn't give you any right to watch her like a fucking creep."

Oh boy was he getting mad. You walk up behind him and put your hand on his shoulder. "Dal, it's not worth it, c'mon."

The man smirks at you. "Well, hello sweet cheeks."

Ew. "Excuse me?" You say at the same time Dallas's fist lands on his face.

Johnny Cade

Johnny trusts you mote than anyone he knows, so why was he so worried? Sure, you'd hung out with a friend for yours that happened to be a guy and didn't tell him, but that guy's just your friend, right? Well, he better be. Johnny knows that he should talk to you about it, but he's not sure how to bring it up. Luckily, you do one day while walking through the park with him.

"Last weekend I went to see this movie, Viva Las Vegas, that new one with Elvis in it, with my friend Aaron. It was just okay." You say.

He hesitates then asks, "Who's Aaron?"

"My friend." You say simply.

A faint smile appears on his face from your answer. "Well, yeah, but who is he? Why're you going to the movies with him?" He feels awkward asking.

You can tell what he's thinking about, and you feel a bit guilty for making him worry. "Oh, it's nothing bad, I swear. Me, him, and this girl, Margaret– we were all three going to go together, but Margaret never showed. We learned on Monday that she'd been sick."

"Oh," he nods. "I mean, I don't really mind that you're hanging out with a guy alone. If it was Soda or Steve or Ponyboy, ya know, I wouldn't care. It's just cause I don't know him, that's all."

"Yeah." You pause then smile. "You were jealous." You tease as you take hold of his arm.

"I'm wasn't–" He pauses and looks at you. He sighs, "I was worried about you. I trust you, but I can't trust people I've never met."

You think quietly for a moment, then make a suggestion. "How about, next time we make plans, I'll ask if you can come, so you can meet him."

He smiles and nods. "Okay, that sounds perfect, sweetheart, thank you." He slips his arm out from your grasp and instead puts in around your shoulders. He pulls you in, towards him, and places a kiss on your forehead.

An: idk why this took so long. Please leave me more requests! The more specific, the more fun!

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-spooktober day 4: corn maze | G | wc: 1,147

uhhh i know i'm the one who came up with the corn maze prompt.. but hay bales suited this story better 🧍‍♀️

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Where the hell is that kid?”

“Probably back there where I said we should’ve gone left.”

“You go find him then if—” Steve cuts himself off when he comes face to face with another dead end. The stack of hay bales mock him. “Alright. You know what, fine. I give up.”

“You give up.”

“I give up.” Steve plops down onto a pile of stray straw at the base of the five-bale-tall wall.

“That’s not the Harrington I know.” Eddie says, a smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, well, if this was a corn maze like they normally have every year, I’d just walk through the walls to the center. But no. They just had to have a crazy amount of hay this year, didn’t they?”

Eddie laughs at him, the bastard. Steve takes a second to glare furiously at him. It’s almost enough to kill off the unforeseen crush he’d developed on their newest party member, but even now, Eddie’s frustrating and frustratingly good looking.

The cold has brought some prickles of pink to his cheeks, the wind that would flood down on them whenever they’d turned down a parallel leg of the maze having done wonders to his hair, the exasperated smile he’s currently sporting.. Damn him and damn his pretty.. everything.

“Who would’ve thought that Captain of every team he’s on Harrington would only ever be a bad sport when it comes to harmless, family fun mazes.”

“...I’m not directionally gifted. Shut up.”

“Do you want me to take the lead, or do you actually want me to leave you here in the dirt?” Eddie holds out a hand for him to take.

Steve has no choice but to take it.

“Damn, your hands are cold!” Eddie says, pulling him up, “Alright sweetheart, you hang onto that, and I’ll get us out of here.”

Some of the heat that Steve could have routed down to his hand floods into his face instead.

Eddie stands still, almost frozen, for a few seconds, then says, “Right.” and starts pulling Steve along the way they came.

One right, two lefts, and one more right after that, and they break into the large, sunny center of the maze.

“Surprise!!” The entire rest of the party is there already, waiting for them with grins on their faces. “Happy Birthday Steve!"

He has to fight the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose as the group surge forward toward them.

“We got you a birthday doughnut!” Robin says, holding up a small paper plate with a sugar-crusted doughnut on it; a single candle is wedged into a glazed doughnut hole that’s been smushed into the center of the other. The flame gets gusted out by the wind as she passes it to him. “Whoops..”

“I brought a canteen full of hot cider!”

“There are presents too, ours was Mike’s idea.” El’s comment surprises him, and Mike is already looking away from him pointedly when he glances over at him.

“The maze thing was Eddie’s idea!”

“Hey, the whole thing was Eddie’s idea, Henderson. Give him some credit.” Eddie says, pointing accusingly at Dustin.

Steve turns to raise an eyebrow at Eddie.

“How was I supposed to know that mazes are the one thing you’re bad at?” he says in a mock affronted tone.

Everyone laughs, and are soon piping up to tell their own stories of trying to get through from the other side.

“Dustin got all claustrophobic like, two minutes in, and it actually made him get through it faster.” Mike teases, poking Dustin in the side.

“I wish it was corn like last year, I would’ve gotten through in half the time.” Lucas grouses. (“That’s what I said!” Steve says, gesturing heartily at Lucas.)

“Me, Max, and Erica were the first ones through, it was so easy.” Robin says, “I thought we’d have to eat all the doughnuts to survive.”

They hang out in the center for a while, and it isn’t until he goes to reach for another pumpkin spice doughnut, pulling his hand from Eddie’s to do so, that he realizes Eddie was still holding his hand, thumb running idly back and forth across his knuckles the whole time.

Maybe Steve’s not the only one with a crush after all…

“Alright, ready Eddie?” Steve says once all the baked goods are gone and the presents (a sweater from the boys, a mini leather bound journal from Robin, a hefty handful of new pins for his work vest from the girls, and a new walkman from Hopper and Joyce) are packed away back into Will’s backpack. He stands up and starts doing some useless stretches, his arms, his calves, jogging in place.

“For what?! Are we running a marathon next? ‘Cause I gotta tell you Stevie, I may do a lot of running, but that doesn’t mean I’m good at it.”

“Nope, for my redemption arc. I’m leading us back out. And I won’t get lost this time.”

“Sure you won’t, Dingus.” Robin says, standing too and grabbing their trash. “See you boys on the other side.”

The party all tear out at the same time, splitting in half and timing their exits to go back through opposite sides, something about the winning half getting some sort of prize. Hopper and Joyce similarly split, a dinner date on the line for the winner.

“Alright Munson. Eyes closed, hand out.” Steve says once they reach the break in the wall too.

“Ooh, bossy. I like that.” he says, smirking at the eye roll Steve gives him as he squashes his eyelids shut.

Steve’s cold-ass fingers lace through his, not at all the platonic grip he’d had on Steve’s the last time.

They turn and weave and wind through the walls, and soon, as the drone of the crowds filter out, Eddie can tell Steve’s gotten them lost once again.

“There. Think this is good enough.” Steve murmurs, and before Eddie can ask what he means by that, Steve has pulled him sharply around, spinning him and pressing him back into the prickly wall of hay.

Eddie’s eyes fly open in surprise when his back hits the bales, but closes them again in the next second when Steve’s lips connect with his.

Funnily enough, they’re warmer than Eddie’s, and the press of them makes his stomach swoop almost violently.

Too soon, way too soon, Steve is pulling back. “You planned a surprise for me.” he breathes.

“Robin helped.” Eddie breathes dumbly in return.

Steve snorts, pushing closer to him, “I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Uh huh.”

He leans closer, gaze hooded. “That okay?”

“More than.”

Steve tastes like cinnamon sugar, and suddenly it’s the best flavor in the world.

(“Okay, you can lead us back out now.” Steve says, after ten minutes spent warming his hands on the skin of Eddie’s torso.)

divider from @saradika-graphics!

[imsogonesposts]

So This is Love

|| ao3 || steve harrington masterlist || requests are open!! || an: if anyone wants more prince steve stuff, i could totally write more stuff for him cause i love him ||

summary: a cinderella retelling. a girl accidentally meets the prince and gets him to fall for her. (wc:4,686)

warnings: brief mention of readers parents having passed away, no evil step family, no fair godmother/magical elements from the cinderella story

Sometimes, when Steve found the royal castle to be too stuffy, too fancy, and just too much, he found himself taking a ride out with his horse to the forest near the castle. He found the fresh air usually helped to clear his mind. He enjoyed hearing the birds chirp and seeing the animals run past him with not a care in the world. He sometimes found himself wondering what it would be like to not have a care in the world. To not have to worry about his princely duties, or have to worry about the upcoming ball his parents were forcing him to have as “it’s about time you found a suitable princess, Steven.” Frankly, Steve didn’t know how he would ever be able to find the girl for him when his parents rarely ever let him leave the castle. His only way out of its massive walls was to convince his closest friends Robin and Dustin to let him out of the castle and into the woods. It was a miracle they never suggested to follow him out and watch over him. Though, maybe they could sense he needed some time to himself. He always came back from the forest in a far better mood, after all. 

“Miss, are you alright?” Steve asked, noticing a girl lying on the grassy floor, looking up at the sky. Steve knew he shouldn't talk to people when outside the castle, especially when alone, but he couldn’t resist ensuring she was okay. Something about her drew him towards her, and he honestly didn’t want to put up much of a fight.

“Oh, I’m alright, thank you,” you replied, looking up at him and raising a hand to cover the glare of the sun from your eyes. 

Steve nodded, glancing around the forest with a sigh, “you know, you shouldn’t be this deep in the forest alone,” he told you, smiling at the small laugh you let out. It was a nice sound, he thought.

“I could say the same to you,” you replied, sitting up with a smile. “Besides, I’m not alone, I’m with you, Mr…?” You paused, waiting for him to reply with his name. 

Instead, he just laughed. 

“You don’t know who I am?” He asked as you shook your head “no.” 

“I mean, you do look familiar, I suppose,” you reply, your eyebrows creasing in the middle as you furrow them, almost as if trying to pinpoint where you could have possibly seen him before. 

He laughs again, “I get that a lot,” he says with a smile. “Some people call me," he pauses. "Ven,” he decides on.

“Ven? Is it short for something?” 

“Yes,” Steve replies with a shrug and a smile. He didn’t want to tell you he was the prince, at least not yet. He enjoyed being able to talk to someone without them thinking they had to watch their every word just because he was the prince. He only ever got that behavior with some of the guards and maids of the castle that practically grew up with him. It was almost refreshing. 

“So, are you from here, Mr. Ven?” You ask. 

“I, uh, work at the palace,” Steve explains. That’s close enough to the truth, right? He technically does work at the palace- as the prince.

“Really?” You ask, eyes going slightly wide. 

You have pretty eyes, Steve thought. 

“What do you do there?” You ask as he struggles to quickly think of an answer.

“I’m a guard,” he decides on. “And are you from here? Miss..?” He takes a pause as well as you tell him your name. “That’s a pretty name,” he whispers more to himself than to you.

“I’m actually the royal princess,” you joke. “Which you should know as the royal guard, of course.”

Steve lets out a small laugh, finally hopping off his horse, feet on the ground to be on the same level as you. “My apologies, Your Royal Highness, I don’t know how I could have not recognized you,” he replies with a bow. It was almost funny to him- could you really be so oblivious that you were making jokes about being the princess to the actual prince?

“Oh, you’re forgiven, Sir Ven,” you reply, standing up and giving him a curtsy. 

You’re cute, he thought. Maybe he wouldn’t mind the upcoming ball if you were in attendance, and if he could ask to meet you again. And again and again. 

He raised himself from his bow with a smile. 

“Is it nice in the castle?” You ask as you move to sit back on the grass.

Steve nods as he moves to sit across from you. “It’s quite nice,” he replies, “is it nice where you’re from?” 

You simply shrug. “It’s not the best,” you reply, picking a daisy off the grass, extending your hand towards him to pass it to him. “But it’s not the worst either. We make do with what we have.”

He takes the daisy, not quite deciding if he should smile or not. He wants to smile, as no one’s ever given him flowers before, and he thought it was a sweet gesture, but he also doesn’t want to smile due to your words. “Not the best?” He asks, twirling the daisy in his hand. 

“My step-family does their best, I suppose,” you tell him. “I just miss my parents is all.”

“Are they..?” He begins to ask before stopping himself. Dead. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-“

“It’s okay,” you reply with a small smile. “And yes, they are.”

He picks a daisy off the grass as well, handing it to you. “I’m sorry.”

You take the daisy with a slightly larger smile. “It’s okay,” you repeat, “it’s not your fault,” you shrug, placing the daisy in the spot between your hair and ear. “Do you like my new look?” You ask, pointing at the flower as he lets out a small laugh. 

“Beautiful,” he replies truthfully. Steve might not get to leave the castle very often, but he wholeheartedly believes that you are the most beautiful girl in the entire kingdom. World, even. 

You duck your head with a smile before getting up. “Well, Mr. Ven, I must get going,” you tell him, still smiling brightly. “I wouldn’t want to worry my step-family,” you tell him with a small curtsy. 

“I hope to see you again, Your Royal Highness,” he teases.

“My name will do just fine, Sir Ven,” you reply with a laugh.

He found himself enjoying making you laugh. You have a nice laugh, he found himself thinking again. 

“Forgive me for being too forward,” he starts, “but I truly do hope to see you again. Truly.”

“So do I,” you tell him with a smile before turning around, making your way home, he presumes. Away from him. 

He wished you could have stayed longer. That the two of you could have stayed in that field till the sun set and the stars began to shine. He wished more than anything that he could speak to you for longer. 

“It was lovely meeting you,” he shouts.

He smiles when he hears your small laugh. “You as well,” you shout back, further descending down the grassy hill.

***

“Oh, mother, a letter came in the mail,” your step-sister Max says, entering the parlor room, and handing it to your stepmom.

“Thank you dear,” she says, taking it before letting out a loud gasp.

“What?” You and your two step-sisters ask in unison. 

Your stepmother raises from her seat to show the three of you the letter. “It’s a letter from the royal castle!” She exclaims, handing your step-sister Vickie the letter, as she was in the middle between you and Max. 

“YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO THE CELEBRATION OF PRINCE STEVEN’S 18TH BIRTHDAY, IN WHICH HE WILL BEGIN THE SEARCH FOR HIS BRIDE AND OUR SOON TO BE PRINCESS” the letter read.

The date for the celebration was a week away, the invitation called it a ball open to the public, requesting guests to dress formally. 

“Oh, one of my girls could marry the prince!” your stepmom exclaims, walking in circles around the room. “Why, we’ll need to get dresses, and rent a carriage, and-“

Vickie leans into your side, whispering, “maybe you’ll see that guard you met in the forest.”

“Oh, shush,” you whisper back with a small laugh. “He’s probably forgotten all about me by now.”

Max leans into Vickie’s side now, whispering in a deep voice, “I hope to see you again,” mimicking Ven’s parting words to you. 

“You’re as beautiful as the sun,” Vickie replies in an equally as deep voice. 

You roll your eyes with a small scoff. “He didn’t say ‘as the sun,’” you reply. 

“Oh, but he did call you beautiful?” Vickie asks, laughing as you roll your eyes again.

Your stepmother turns around, stopping in front of the three of you. “What are you three giggling about? You have a ball to get ready for!” She shoos her hands away, exclaiming “Go! Go!”

“The ball isn’t for a week,” Vickie replies with a sigh. 

“So we have no time to waste,” she exclaims, clapping her hands together. “Up, up, all of you. One of my girls might marry a prince!”

Vickie nudges you with a teasing laugh. “Or a royal guard,” she whispers. 

***

“My, don’t you three look wonderful,” your stepmother exclaimed, clapping her hands together with a laugh. 

Max almost instantly began pulling on her yellow dress with a small groan, “this dress is uncomfortable,” she says with a sigh. 

“Maxine!” Her mother exclaims, rushing towards her daughter and pulling her hands away, fixing any nonexistent creases she might have left, “These dresses were a fortune! Don’t ruin them!” Your stepmother straightens herself, looking at you and Vickie, “that goes for you two as well. Do not ruin these dresses.”

The three of you nod as your stepmother sighs and opens the door of your home. “Off we go, off we go,” she says as the three of you enter a gold carriage parked outside your home. Max in her yellow dress, Vickie in her pink dress, and you in your blue one. 

“So, will you be running off to look for your guard?” Vickie whispers as you make your way. 

You shrug with a smile. “We’ll see,” you respond before stepping foot into the carriage. 

***

“Where is your sister?” Your stepmother whispers to both Vickie and Max, looking around the room for a girl in a blue ballgown. In normal circumstances, such as back in the town square, it wouldn’t be too hard to find you, but in a castle full of girls in ballgowns, finding you seemed close to impossible. 

“Probably looking for her knight,” Max jokes as your stepmother sighs. 

“Her and that boy. She met him once and she’d rather talk to him than the prince.”

*** 

Steve had been walking around the overly crowded ballroom with his head maid/best friend Robin in tow. He had told his parents it was so he could get a good feel of who was in attendance at the ball before coming to a final decision on which girl he would like to marry. But truthfully, he was only looking for one girl. A certain girl he had met in the forest who he’s half convinced truly had no idea she was speaking to the crowned prince. 

“She’s cute,” Robin whispers to Steve, pointing towards a freckled red-headed woman whose name tag displayed the name “Miss Victoria.”

“She is,” Steve nodded in agreement, continuing to glance around the room before his eyes drifted to another corner of the room, where he saw what he thought to be the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

“You should talk to her,” Steve tells his friend lightly pushing her towards Miss Victoria’s direction before making his way towards the girl in the corner, wearing a sparkling blue dress. 

“Hello, Your Royal Highness,” he says with a bow after finally reaching you. “May I say, you're even more beautiful than I remember,” he says raising himself. He smiles at the small gasp you let out. 

“It’s you! Sir Ven, I was looking for you!” You exclaim with a laugh. 

He laughs as well, “here I am. In the flesh.”

“You know, you’re quite hard to find for a royal guard,” you tell him, “I thought you’d be adjoined at the prince’s hip or something.”

Steve can’t help but laugh a little more. “You truly don’t know who I am, do you?” He asks with a smile. 

“You’re Ven, the royal guard, no?” You ask, tilting your head as a puzzled look crosses your features. 

Steve shakes his head no. “No,” he replies, taking one of your hands and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I’m going to tell you a secret now, is that alright?” He whispers as you nod. 

“I’m the crowned prince,” he whispers, lightly squeezing your hand. 

“What?” You ask with a laugh as he stares at you, a smile of his own on his face. 

“I said, I’m the crowned prince,” he repeats slightly louder. 

“Please tell me you’re joking,” you whisper as he shakes his head no. “Oh my,” you put your free hand up to your mouth to suppress a small laugh before coming to your senses and dropping down to a curtsy. “Your Highness.”

Steve simply laughs, “oh, there’s no need for that, Your Royal Highness,” he teases. You internally wince at his teasing. How could you not recognize you had been talking to the prince in the forest? How could he so easily call you “Your Royal Highness,” when you were no royalty, and yet he was? 

“I apologize for that,” you mutter as he lets out another laugh. 

“No need,” he tells you. “You know, I truly meant it when I said I’d like to see you again. I enjoyed our conversation. I’m glad to see you here tonight.”

You smile at that. A smile that makes him feel warm inside. 

Steve bows once again, a hand outstretched to you. “If you wouldn’t mind, it’d do me a great pleasure if you let me have at least one dance with you.”

You take his hand with a smile, asking, “just one?”

“More to come, I hope,” Steve replies, squeezing your hand as he raises himself, leading you to the dance floor. 

When the two of you finally reach the dance floor, he places a hand on your lower back, raising your joint hands. 

You glance around the room, noticing the crowd staring at the two of you as you whisper to him, “they’re all looking at you.”

He almost laughs at the absurdity of the statement. How could they be looking at him, when he had a gorgeous girl like you as his dance partner? “Believe me, my dear,” he whispered with a smile, “they’re all looking at you,” he said, swaying across the almost blinding room with you. 

“What are you staring at?” Steve whispers after a few moments of silence, as he notices you looking at a couple dancing not too far from you. 

“That’s my step-sister,” you reply with a laugh. 

“Well, your step-sister is dancing with my guard,” Steve replies with a laugh of his own. “That’s Sir Lucas,” he informs you, “he’s a nice fellow.”

“That’s Maxine,” you reply, “me and my other step-sister call her Max, though. She’s…nice when she wants to be,” you say with a laugh.

Steve lets out a hum in response, suppressing a laugh of his own. “May I show you something?” He asks as you nod your head yes. He removes his hand from your lower back, though still holding your joint hands as he leads you out to the castle garden.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the prince?” You ask when finally away from the wide-eyed, staring eyes, still holding onto the prince’s hand.

“I worried you might treat me differently,” he earnestly replied. “It was nice to not have someone worry so much over the fact that they were talking to the prince.”

You smile at that. “I suppose you’re not as intimidating as everyone claims.”

The corner of his mouth turns up at that. “No?” He asks, lightly squeezing your hand. 

“No,” you reply with a smile, the two of you stopping at a bridge to look over the lake beneath you. 

“Won’t they miss you back at the ball? It’s in honor of you after all, for your,” you let out a small gasp. “It’s your birthday! Happy birthday Your Highness!”

The prince drops his head at that with a laugh. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” he says with a laugh. You were the first of the people in attendance at the ball to remember such a thing, and to him, it felt like you just handed him the world. “They might miss me, yes,” he whispers, turning his gaze from the lake towards you, “but honestly, I think I’d miss you if you didn’t return with me.”

He smiles at the smile that crosses your features. It almost seemed to light up your face in a way he couldn’t describe, but it was a look he wanted to memorize. He wanted to see that smile every day if he could- if you’d let him. 

“You know, I didn’t want to have this ball,” the prince suddenly confesses, glancing at the party happening indoors before looking back towards you.

The moonlight shone on you in such a perfect way, highlighting your features in a way that made him feel something likebutterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t used to such a feeling, but he thought it was a nice feeling to have. He imagined this is what his maid Nancy had meant whenever she spoke of the baker boy she knew, Jonathan.

“But, I’m glad I did, if it means I got to see you again,” he continued, raising your joint hands and placing a kiss to the back of yours.

“Does that line usually work on the other girls?” You teasingly asked with a smile. 

That teasing would be the death of him. He loved how freely you talked to him, prince or not.  

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied with a laugh. “You’re the first girl I’ve tried it on,” he says with a smile. 

He doesn’t miss the small flicker of shock that crosses your features. 

“Well,” you quietly reply, “I’m sure you could do better.”

“You’re more gorgeous than the stars,” he easily replies, nodding his head up, towards the stars that lit up the night sky. 

“Better,” you reply with a smile as he returns his gaze towards you. 

“If I may, why didn’t you want this ball?” You quietly ask as he lets out a small sigh. 

“My parents wanted the ball so I could find a princess to marry,” he replies, squeezing your still joint hand. If he was being honest, he never wanted to let go of your hand. “We finally came to an agreement that the ball may be open to the public.”

“And why did you want it open to the public?”

“Because after meeting you in the forest, I was wishing on every fallen star out there that you may appear,” he raises your hand to kiss it once more, “and that maybe my parents would meet you and maybe one day, let me…marry you. If things worked out.”

Oh. The prince wanted to marry you.

“Your Highness,” you start as he quietly interrupts you, whispering your name. 

“My name will do just fine, darling.”

“Steven,” you reply after a blink.

“Steve is fine,” he tells you with a smile, “my friends call me Steve.”

“Steve,” you quietly reply, as if testing the name out on your tongue. He quite liked hearing his name fall from your lips. 

“Steve,” you began again, a smile wide enough to take over your entire face. 

“There you are,” a red-headed girl interrupts, suddenly grabbing you by the arm. The very same girl Robin had thought was cute. Miss Victoria.

“Come on, we have to get going,” Victoria says, lightly pulling on your arm as your hand, reluctantly, releases Steve. 

“Is everything all right?” You ask as the girl continues to pull you along. 

She only nods. “Yes, yes, mother is just in one of her moods. She’s a little upset neither of us got a chance with the prince, though none of us really tried. I was talking to a maid, Max with a guard, and you with your special guard.”

Steve could almost laugh at the situation, if only the girl of his dreams wasn't currently being pulled away from him. 

“Vickie,” he hears you call, “I was talking to the prince.”

“Did he show you where your guard was?” 

That's the last thing Steve hears before you and the red-headed girl disappear back into the overly crowded ballroom. Away from him.

Steve wanted to follow after you, he truly did, but it was as if something was keeping his feet planted onto the concrete. And, try as he might, he couldn’t move so much as an inch. That was when he noticed a single glass slipper a few feet away from him. 

Suddenly, almost like magic, he could feel the muscles in his body working again as he walked towards the shoe, bending down to examine it. It was pretty, he thought. Could it have been yours? He had certainly hoped it was. Maybe if fate was on his side, he could find you again and return it to you. And with that, ask to meet you again. And maybe one day, he could ask you to be his bride. 

***

“I can’t believe you got to speak with the prince, and we just pulled you away from him,” your stepmother exclaimed with a sigh. 

It had been two days since the ball, and yet your encounter with the prince was still the topic at hand in your home. 

“His parents want him to marry a princess anyways,” you reply, “it wouldn’t have mattered in the end.”

“Oh, none of that,” she replies with a wave of her hand. “You’re a beautiful girl, you said he even told you that, surely the king and queen could be persuaded.”

That is when your step-sisters decide to join the conversation. 

“Especially because the prince is in love with her,” Max says in a sing-song voice, emphasizing the words “in love.”

You could only roll your eyes in response as you tried to hide the smile threatening to overtake your face. The prince being in love with you didn’t seem too awful of a deal, after all. 

“Aw, look at her, she loves him too,” Vickie teases.

“Oh, you’re both irritating,” you say at the same time your stepmother tells your sisters to leave you alone. 

“Now, now, girls, if she loves the prince, that is her business, not ours,” your stepmother says with a smile as you raise yourself with a huff. 

“I’m going to my room,” you announce. 

There is a knocking on the door at the same time you begin your tread up the stairs. 

“I’ll get it,” Max states, rising from her seat, and towards the door.

Her next words stop you in your walk. 

“Your Highness,” you hear her say, turning around to be met with none other than the prince himself.

He bows to your sister as she curtsies to him. “Hello,” he says with a smile. “You must be Miss Maxine.”

“You know my name?” She asks with a shocked laugh.

He only nods in response. “Your sister has told me about you. As well as one of my soldiers, Sir Lucas,” Steve adds with a wink. 

You swear you could almost see the blush that spreads across Max’s face. 

“Speaking of your sister,” the prince begins. “Is she near?”

“She is!” Your stepmother and Vickie yell at the same time, causing a laugh to escape the prince. 

“If it pleases the lady, I would love to see her,” Steve replies as you walk down the stairs. 

You lightly push Max out of the way when you finally reach the doorway, face to face with the prince again. “Hello,” you whisper. 

“Your Royal Highness,”  he says with a bow. 

You curtsy in return. “Are you never going to let me live that down?” You ask with a smile. 

“Afraid not,” he replies, raising himself with a smile of his own. “I believe you left something at the ball,” Steve whispers, turning to his side to retrieve a glass slipper from the brunet maid at his side, a guard with curly black hair to his other side. 

You can hear her whisper to him “You’re right, she is pretty,” as she hands him the shoe, Steve whispering back “I know,” with a smile. 

“My slipper!” You exclaim when he shows it to you. 

“It’s a pretty slipper,” he tells you, taking one of your hands to hand it back to you. “It only seemed fair I return it to the beautiful girl that it belonged to. If only to see her once more.”

“You came all this way just to return a slipper?” You ask with a smile. 

“And perhaps to tell you I would like to spend more time with you,” he says, his dark brown eyes looking into yours with something almost like adoration. “If you would like that as well,” he says after a brief moment of silence. 

“I thought you had to marry a princess,” you reply as he shakes his head no. 

“I was able to do some convincing,” he tells you. 

The maid to his side, the one who handed him the slipper, whispers to you, “he practically begged," as the guard laughs.

The prince shoots them both a glare as you cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. 

“Ignore them,” Steve says, turning back to you, a crinkle in his eye as he noticed your barely covered laughter. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that sound, even if it had only been two days since he last heard it.  

“Your parents are okay with you marrying a commoner,” you ask once more for reassurance. 

He nods his head yes, that same look of adoration in his eyes. “Well, you’re more than just a commoner,” he tells you, “but yes. And I, would like nothing more than to spend my time with you, and one day, hopefully make you my queen.”

You had to admit that did sound nice. 

And so, you nodded, whispering out a quiet “yes.”

Steve’s face broke out into a large grin as he raised your free hand, the one not holding the shoe, and pressed a kiss to it, smiling the whole way through. 

“May I?” He asked, nodding towards the shoe, smiling at your puzzled look. “May I help with the shoe?” He explains. 

You hand him the shoe with a smile. “If you’d like,” you say, turning around, silently inviting the prince, his maid, and a few guards into your home. 

“Your Highness,” your stepmother, and sisters say, curtsying in unison.

“What is it?” Steve asks, turning around to face his maid when she lets out a gasp. 

That’s when Vickie let out a gasp of her own as she rose from her seat. 

”Robin?” Vickie asks at the same time the maid tells Steve “It’s Vickie!”

“That’s the maid?” You ask your step-sister as Steve breaks out into a laugh. 

“Two birds with one stone,” he says, lightly pushing his maid, Robin, towards your sister. “Go talk, I have business to take care of.”

Steve then nods to you as you take a seat. He then gently takes your foot, delicately placing it into the shoe. “Perfect fit,” he mutters with a smile, looking up at you as if you hung up every star that filled the night sky. Maybe you did, it certainly wouldn't surprise him. 

“Perfect fit,” you repeat with a wide smile. 

[hitlikehammers]

oh golden boy (don't act like you were kind)

part ii: you shined a light on your home

for @kultiras at the ❄️ Winter @steddieexchange 🖤💚

<<< part one

Eddie will not pretend he doesn’t squeak when Dustin bustles past him into the house—a wholly appropriate ranch on the edge of town, with two whole separate bedrooms, no one on the couch anymore, plus a little side room that Eddie thinks probably wasn’t meant as a guest room but can definitely fit about three sleeping bags, four at a push—but yeah, he should have expected Dustin to shove his way into Eddie’s home whether Eddie invited it or not.

He doesn’t have to like it. Or approve of it. Or tolerate it without complaint; without pushing back.

“Hend—” he tries to sound stern, tries to project hand-on-hips-authority like St—

Like some people do. Sometimes. So Eddie’s heard.

“Implied consent!” Dustin cuts him off, voice carrying from at least the living room already, Jesus fuck, this kid; his tone.

Eddie’s glaring hard enough to almost definitely bore a hole through this shithead’s skull, or maybe make him spontaneously combust. If Supergirl was the one glaring, it’d be a done deal.

“You didn’t shut the door, thereby participating in the creation of an entrance,” Dustin’s rambling on and Christ, but he’s such a pompous little fuck sometimes.

“Which is great, and super smart of you,” Dustin tells him earnestly, actually, and wow: if that isn’t condescending, holy fuck; “because the quicker we can address the problem, the quicker it can be solved,” and then he’s turning of his heel and fucking…clapping his hands to together like Eddie’s in goddamn kindergarten.

“So!” Dustin barks with a weird enthusiasm. “Now we can talk about what you did to Steve, and how you’re gonna fix it.”

Eddie blinds at him for a couple couple seconds before throwing his hands up and half-kinda snarling, half-kinda whining:

“What the fuck, man?”

And honestly, Eddie’s torn just now between hurt and angry, indignant and bleeding out a little, because he doesn’t like Dustin accusing him blindly, here, and while he’s long grown past thinking the hero worship was unfounded—honestly, if he’s going to have to think about the man explicitly instead of as the understood ‘you’ that the constant ache of him and his absence has settled as in Eddie’s universe: he thinks what he clocked as hero worship in the beginning probably could have used some bulking up, because…the genuine article was so much more than even the stories Eddie’d refused to believe at the start.

But, back it up: Eddie…Eddie can accept Dustin coming to Steve’s defense—encouraged it, even. But, like, Dustin has stood up for Eddie, too, and just…Eddie didn’t do anything, he’s spent enough cold nights with his arms stretched missing what they’d learned so well to wrap around and hold so close, mourning what’s not there and hell yes, he’s run down every little detail he can think of, where he might have been the one to drive Steve away without ever, ever meaning to, and it boils down the same every time: there’s nothing.

He wishes there was. Because then yeah, like Dustin’s saying—there’d be something to fix. Something to do, to try and salvage what Eddie is entirely aware was very probably the love of his fucking life.

But there isn’t.

“Clearly something is wrong between the two of you,” Dustin gestures broadly in the air, extravagant for no reason but then also it kinda fits entirely because this entire heartbreak of an affair is basically the most devastating thing that’s ever tried to take Eddie down, and he was basically dead in another dimension that one time, so.

That’s saying something, is what he’s getting at.

“And like, I’ve watched when Steve’s been the one to fuck up, man, so like, I can recognize the signs and,” Dustin shakes his head, looks not exactly apologetic but not entirely all-in guns-blazing about pinning the blame on Eddie alone. At least not without giving him a fair shake to explain first.

Which he’d do, if he had any fucking idea what caused them to crash and burn when they’d been the most solid thing Eddie had ever seen, let alone been a part of; got to feel for himself.

“I know Steve,” Dustin says carefully, kinda slow, almost reluctant, which Eddie doesn’t really get until the next part comes out, a little choked, like tears muscled down:

“I’ve never seen him like this.”

Well. Fuck.

Fuck.

“It’s the holidays, man,” Eddie tries to make it sound casual, or at the very least genuine, like his pulse hasn’t jumped for the idea that Steve’s…not okay. Not fucking thriving like he deserves, now that Eddie’s out of the way of what makes him as happy as he should always be. “Sometimes people are just a little down in the dumps, it’s not unheard of,” and he thinks that lands okay, those are all true things, no one needs to know the way his heart’s thumping like a rabbit as his head goes to all sorts of horrible possibilities, and he shouldn’t let himself slide down those pathways anymore, it’s not his business, Steve isn’t—

“He’s not just sad,” Dustin shakes his head; “he’s not,” and he trails off and Eddie’s heartbeat stutters then jackhammers wild for the way Dustin’s face crumples over a fucking interminable stretch of moments that drives every horror possible through fragile arteries not prepared for how much it hurts, laced with the acids at the base of Eddie’s throat and rising, banged around with every beat and—

“I don’t think he’s sleeping,” Dustin says, so quiet, hard to tell if there are actual tears of just the threat of them. “I don’t think he’s eating,” and he takes a shaky breath that gets mirrored in Eddie’s blood, sniffles as he adds on, kinda desperate, fraying at the seams: “Robin can’t even…”

He stops, breathes a couple of times and collects himself—too good at that. Eddie…

Eddie doesn’t even try to do that, for his part. He’s not…strong, like these kids. Like the rest of this little rag-tag-trauma family unit. Eddie isn’t built that impermeable. S’why he’s always had to put on a show, scare people off before they get close enough to see the obvious.

Until…Steve.

And the proof of Eddie’s weaknesses are front and centre right now, so. Case in point.

“I met him right after he and Nancy broke up,” Dustin’s saying after he takes the time to regroup, huffing a breath and furrowing his brows at nothing, until: “after she did the,” and he circles his wrist around again and oh. Oh.

Bullshit.

Eddie’s brow furrows, too, at that.

“I didn’t know it at the time, obviously, and not like I was really paying attention anyway,” Dustin screws up his face a little, like he’s angry at a lot of people for what he’s remembering, and he’s not exempt from his own list; “but you said it yourself, you thought they were meant to be,” Dustin points at him in the sort of way that presses down on Eddie’s shoulders, makes him feel queasy and just…small.

“Unmitigated love, or whatever,” Dustin half-sneers and he doesn’t think that was the word he used but fuck if Eddie’s not transported back to those woods, to those first inklings that his heart was gonna leap and know it couldn’t stick the landing, would less crack and more like splatter, a messy ruin on the sidewalk for trying, for reaching when there was nothing to hook with a grip—

Except there had been, in the end. He hadn’t known it then—just reveled in the way it felt to brush arms against that man, to lean close enough to feel his heat in the frigid deadspace that was the hellscape they were trekking through.

But the end, as it has come anyway, did in fact leave him a fucking spatter-scape on the concrete, exactly the same as he’d feared at the start.

But Dustin fucking Henderson hadn’t been there when Eddie was making eyes at Mr. Former High School Royalty, so—

“How the fuck do you—”

“Doesn’t matter how,” Dustin waves him off like he’s a fucking idiot for asking a question that’s beneath his concern for the topic at hand. “Youthought that,” he rocks forward in emphasis and okay, fine, yeah. Eddie had thought that.

It’d taken a long fucking while for Eddie to stop thinking it; he’s tried not to wonder, now, if he was foolish to ever stop thinking it.

But: no. Of all the reasons Steve got sick of him, he doesn’t think it was because Steve decided to want Nancy. He remembers every word Steve told him about that time, and how Eddie knew it was downplayed for how much Steve took the brunt of her rejection, for how generous Steve was in hindsight to remember how it went down; how genuinely worrisome it was to know Steve actually saw himself as deserving what he’d gotten.

Still. Back in the Upside Down, Eddie had thought it. Told him to get it back. Couldn’t fathom her not seeing the error of her ways even before he comprehended just how egregious her errors ran the first time, just how little even unambiguous signs of love might still fail to deserve Steve Harrington.

But before he knew: he had thought he understood well enough to judge.

Just more reasons for Eddie Munson to quality as an unmitigated idiot.

“So when he lost that,” Dustin’s picking back up again, has got his explaining cap on, trying to map a diagram or some shit, save that it’s Steve and it feels…insufficient in every way, insulting at that, to think Steve could ever be made…simple like that. Cut and dry.

Eddie bristles at it. Maybe he doesn’t have the right anymore, but: Dustin sure as fuck does, and needs to do better.

“He was still okay enough, after that, to fucking join a quest for demodogs and get beat to hell by a psychopath,” Dustin’s saying with the kind of gravity all of a sudden that feels up to reshaping the world; “all just to protect some kids he didn’t even know.”

Eddie can feel where this is headed, can see the lead up to where Dustin’s going to drop them.

He wishes like hell that he couldn’t.

“So if he’s like this, now,” and Dustin sounds…fucking distraught, like all the posturing of pressuring Eddie to reveal what the hell had gone wrong, what he’d done to destroy them, to lose his Steve: the anger and the bafflement was all secondary.

The kid’s fucking scared.

And this kid? Who’s stared down certain death, who’s jumped after Eddie’s stupid ass when the end was imminent, no question?

That…that ratchets Eddie’s pulse up, considerably. For what it has to…mean.

“I have never,” and Dustin’s voice is kind of raspy, kind of too strained and Eddie…Eddie thinks it’d be shitty of him to say that Dustin only sounds like he’s struggling with a fraction of what Eddie’s starting to feel head-on, the bone-deep trembling worry for the unspoken details that must comprise the current state of Steve, piled on top of the wholesale grief and the mourning of both what Eddie’d had, and what he’d been hoping he’d be allowed, be able to keep.

It’d be shitty to say that. So he won’t.

Say it.

“Eddie, I have never seen him like this.”

And it’s all Eddie can do not to whimper, or moan pathetically because the hurt in those words is visceral, and it’s not supposed to be there because Eddie was the problem, he was what was hurting Steve and he’s out of the equation. So what’s causing this much anxiousness, this much concern? How could something have gone to shit so quickly, in just the weeks they’ve been apart—what’s wrong with his Stevie?

(And maybe Steve isn’t his anymore but by god, Eddie is Steve’s, will be to the day he dies, he thinks—no, he knows; no matter where he goes or who he becomes, a part of his heart will belong to Steve for always, whether it’s wanted or not. So that’s his Steve. Where is heart lives. Where is love burns, even as a nuisance. He can’t stop it. He can’t put it out.

It’s with his Steve, and no other.)

“And like,” and Eddie pulls himself enough out of his wallowing, his fretting, the aching in his fucking veins to focus on Dustin as he eyes Eddie up blatantly, the squints a little:

“You don’t look like you’re doing the best, either.”

Okay. Rude.

“Gee, thanks,” Eddie tries to drawl annoyingly, fails miserably; aim to bat his eyes at an attempt at levity that he knows falls flat as hell.

He doesn’t know if he was even trying for it more for Dustin’s sake, or his own.

“Fuck off, man,” Dustin rolls his eyes; “I’m serious,” then he’s gets that grave tone about him again and Eddie hates that these kids have to even know how to be that serious about anything—least of all him, and his…whatever you call the ruins of your everything, when it comes to—

“You might not be hurting like Steve is,” Dustin tells him plain, doesn’t pull punches; “like you’re joyful in comparison,” and okay, ouch—

“But that’s not a healthy bar to clear.”

And Dustin’s eyes are a little narrowed around the call-out, the judgement on so many levels but they’re also…open somehow. Trying to be receptive, and welcoming.

Trying to be a good friend—for Steve and Eddie alike.

“Henderson,” Eddie shakes his head even before his voice strains; “he,” and all the fight goes out of him, drained dry better than the bats ever managed to leave him which is for the best, really, because what he says next, what he admits next is as good as slicing as artery, the way it flays him open to speak into the world:

“He doesn’t want me around.”

He doesn’t want you—

“Oh, right,” Dustin snarks at him with a glare; “definitely doesn’t wilt whenever you come up, doesn’t leave the room or anything,” then it’s Dustinwho wilts a little, somewhere between a pout and concern:

“When we actually get to see him at all.”

“That would be a prime example,” Eddie notes with a kind of…devastated intent, shoving the stabbing sense of worry at the core of him out of the way to make his point: “of what someone does when they don’t want a person around,” and Eddie is right, he’s absolutely right because that’s just natural, that’s a normal reaction and here is clear proof that—

“Not Steve.”

Dustin cuts Eddie’s mental conviction off at its knees with the sheer amount of feeling, of certainty in his tone, like he knows this one thing beyond all the doubt in the world.

It’s that certainty that sours worst in Eddie’s gut.

“If Steve doesn’t want something, he ignores it,” Dustin says, insistent and so fucking sad; “I think it goes back to his parents, like,” Dustin shrugs, and Eddie feels bile at the back of his throat.

“If you’re unwanted, you’re neglected, treated like you don’t exist,” and not for the first time, Eddie kinda-sorta regrets that the murder charges didn’t stick, because then he’d be tarred and feathered appropriately to just go ahead and off the fuckers that made Steve ever wonder if he was somehow anything less than the best person, the most deserving of everything.

“Because that hurts worse,” Dustin says, low, like he gets it. Like he hates it.

“Being invisible hurts the worst.”

Death would be too easy for those fucking assholes who taught Steve that, just because their own hearts were hateful. Eddie…Eddie wants to run to his Stevie and just, fucking, hold him. Make sure he remembers that it doesn’t matter if Eddie’s near or far, his or never close again: he’ll always matter to Eddie. He’ll never, ever be invisible.

“I,” Eddie licks his lips when the silence stretches too long, and Dustin doesn’t seem inclined to fill it this time. “He,” and Eddie’s mouth is too dry, throat still too tight; “we’ve been—”

“You’re together.”

Eddie freezes, heart doing a kind of hard brake thing that shakes him from the ribs on out, and Eddie may not have know where the hell he was going, how he was going to summarize then sanitize what it feels like to give all that you are and be found wanting in the end—but he hadn’t once considered fucking saying…that.

“What?” Eddie chokes, half-assed at best. It’s shock more than it’s denial, save that it should have been past tense, even if Eddie’s whole fucking soul is still with Steve, but he doesn’t think he knows or even fully wants to reel it back.

Ever.

But while they hadn’t hid anything more than in plain sight? They…no one was ever told they’d been dating, and, he, they—

“If even I can see it,” Dustin says, not unkindly exactly but…definitely blunt: “that kinda means it’s an open secret.”

Eddie coughs around the tight shock squeezing at his throat:

“Those aren’t your words,” he manages, because—they aren’t.

And Dustin looks briefly like he sucked on a lemon, knows he can’t fight the obvious.

“Max,” he sighs, admitting from where he’s borrowing uncharacteristic insight; “she told me I was the last to know.”

Any other day, about any other thing, Eddie would feel a much bigger sense of petty vindication in Dustin’s forced humbling.

As it stands? Eddie’s chest hurts too much to fit any kind of twisted delight of the kind getting any sort of foothold in him.

“Right,” he breathes out in an airy, useless kind of sound, doesn’t know where it’s going, doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He feels…actually?

Dying felt less tumultuous than what’s starting to churn through his veins right now, no fucking lie.

“You guys could have told us,” Dustin prods, a little sad, disappointed—hurt that he was left out.

“I,” Eddie’s mouth works around a lot of thoughts, a lot of half-formed feelings because what would it have been like to hold Steve where the people they loved could see, just because they could? To sit in his lap when he got tired, when the scars ached a little from doing too much for too long with the kids. To warm his hands just under the hem of a sweater. To just, just—

“Doesn’t matter now,” is what Eddie lands on, because it’s the honest conclusion of all his wishful wondering; bitter in his voice as much as it is in his chest. “It’s over.”

Fuck. Fuck, has he even said that out loud, yet? Can’t have—it hits too much like whiplash. Like the world ending.

“Doesn’t sound over,” Dustin volleys back like it’s simple; “is it over, for you?”

He asks it, like it’s enough to love with all that you are when it’s got nowhere to go anymore. Like he can strong-arm that kind of feeling through will alone. That one side can make a relationship on their own.

“It sure as hell doesn’t look like it’s over for him,” Dustin stares him down, now, something shifting in his demeanor that screams that he’s done playing games.

“What did you say?” Dustin asks him, something a little pleading in it, but Eddie’s throat won’t work, he can’t fucking speak and Dustin reads it as avoidance, instead of like Eddie’s heart is trying to rip out past his fucking trachea.

“What did he say?” but Dustin doesn’t sound even remotely convinced for his own self that this is on Steve. That it could be on Steve. And…again. Dustin hasn’t been shy about supporting one of them over the other when necessary.

“I,” and how is Eddie even supposed to breach explaining the chain of events that he can parse, leading to where things stand now? Sorry buddy, your ineffably physical and endlessly affectionate brother-slash-babysitter started refusing my kisses and sleeping on the edge of the bed so he barely touched me when he used to be a goddamn octopus to my sloth, grabbing and never letting go until he did, entirely, which is to say nothing of the sex, fuck, did you know your taxi driver is loud as shit in bed, but then all of a sudden if we even had sex he was suddenly silent and if there’s ever a blow to your ego, it’s to fuck your boyfriend and get nothing in response save sometimes tears he doesn’t acknowledge in the aftermath, that really makes a guy feel special.

Yeah, he’s not going to say that. He doesn’t even know how to get across how Steve pulled away, slow and all at once at the same time, overnight as much as it felt like it happened in pieces. But he stiffened when Eddie so much as brushed against him. He barely talked to Eddie. He was always taking extra shifts at work. He didn’t want to be around Eddie. He didn’t want Eddie, outgrew him in the course of weeks, maybe months if Eddie just hadn’t noticed in the beginning, but, it just…they were amazing, one minute. Perfect.

And then they…weren’t.

“He, I mean, it,” and Eddie grabs at his hair and hides behind it, because all of that’s true, all of what he saw and felt and lost in his relationship with Steve before it stopped: it’s accurate.

But then there’s…everything Dustin’s saying. And…Steve was pulling away from him, turning away from him, but did he…was he seeing Robin, or only at work? Was he seeing the rest of the Party?

“He was,” Eddie tries to find a throughway to follow but he’s too distracted because…was Steve sleeping before Eddie stopped coming to bed at all, because everything he tried wasn’t enough, because it was breaking him to keep lying there and not just be ignored, but be actively avoided? Was he…had Steve not been eating regularly, before Eddie left—

Wait.

Eddie…Eddie didn’t leave. He went to Wayne’s, the home that wasn’t the one Steve grew up in, when he needed to get more clothes. It was getting too cold, and since he’d basically moved in with Steve right out of the hospital and never really moved out, he’d been migrating what had survived the old trailer little by little as needed and so he’d…he’d gone to get things.

He’d broken down when his uncle asked him what was wrong, said he looked like someone ran over his cat.

More like his heart, but. Same idea.

And then he’d…he’d been scared. He’d called the house to try and ask Steve when he wanted Eddie to come back, because he’d wondered after telling Wayne everything—and hearing him talk about what it was like coming back from war for some of his buddies—if Steve just needed some space: but the line had rang and rang and rang. Didn’t even grab the machine.

And Eddie had…Eddie had cried so fucking hard he could have sworn he’d busted something in his eye. But…but…

never gonna leave you all alone again

He gasps to himself when the words run lightning quick through his head, and his heart clenches fucking hard.

Did…did Eddie, did he go and…and leave Steve…

Did he leave his Stevie alone?

No. No, it was, Eddie never wanted to keep his distance.

Eddie doesn’t stay awake to all hours staring the the ceiling while his body reels at what it knows it’s missing because he wants to. He doesn’t jolt awake lamenting that emptiness because he likes it, whenever his consciousness drifts in fitful bursts that he doesn’t feel like he deserves, because while he’d maybe been slinking back to lick his wounds when he went to Wayne’s, he would never have even thought to do this own his own, to be estranged.

Though all of those things aren’t without the parasitic leech of a thought on the side: he told you to leave with everything but words, and only that because he stopped taking at all.

But…but Eddie can’t live with Steve hurting. And maybe Steve doesn’t want him, doesn’t love him like that anymore. But Eddie thought of him as his friend, even if they never had a space between where they were just friends and not everything.

And it sounds like maybe Steve could use a friend. Maybe he doesn’t want Eddie for that either, but. Eddie’s kinda in agony at just the thought of the picture Dustin’s been painting.

“It’s Christmas,” Dustin takes that unspoken cue to pipe back up; “like, I just,” and he ends on a note of straight-up entreaty, damn close to pleading:

“Fix it, man.”

And Eddie…

Eddie doesn’t think he’s wanted, in general. Certainly not to be the one who fixes…anything.

But a nice chunk of his heart is with this man who is apparently hurting, and Eddie’s soul-certain love is fixed on him, probably for the rest of fucking time, so.

He’s sitting here being unwanted already.

Won’t hurt to try; can’t possibly end up worse.

❄️

>>> part iii

for @kultiras🖤

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divider credit here

[xoxo-sarah]

Visiting Home for the Holidays

↝a/n: for my people who don't celebrate Thanksgiving, you can interpret this as Steve meeting your parents for the first time. 🩷

↝pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

↝warning: Thanksgiving? Not proof read, rushed

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Steve Harrington, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 11.27.24

Steve Harrington masterlist | main masterlist

Steve stood at the edge of the driveway, his heart pounding in his chest. He adjusted his brown sweater for what felt like the hundredth time. You had told him it looked good on him.

He glanced nervously at the front door. The memory of his disastrous first meeting with Nancy's parents played on a loop in his mind. He could still hear the awkward silences, feel the judgmental stares, and remember the feeling of not being good enough. He remembered passing by the house and feeling ashamed when he caught the eye of Mr. Wheeler as he mowed the lawn. Truthfully, Mr. Wheeler hadn't thought of Steve since that night. That didn't change the fact that it haunted Steve. The thought of repeating that experience made his palms sweat and his stomach churn.

"Steve, it's going to be okay," you said, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "They're going to love you."

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I just... I don't want to mess this up." Last time, it was a disaster. He didn't dare say the last sentence. This is different. It's a different time with different people. He's changed. He's not King Steve. You're not her.

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "You're amazing, and they're going to see that."

Steve nodded, taking comfort in your words. "Okay, let's do this." With one last deep breath, he followed you up the walkway, feeling a little more confident with each step.

Peering eyes watched through the window, in-between the curtains. Excited eyes softened and protective eyes glared, slightly wavering as you slightly smiled. You were happy.

As you knocked on the door, he glanced at you, and you gave him a reassuring smile. The door opened, and your parents greeted you both warmly. Steve felt the tension in his shoulders start to ease as he saw the welcoming expressions on their faces.

Dinner was a cozy affair, filled with laughter and stories. Steve found himself relaxing more and more as the evening went on. Your parents were kind and engaging, nothing like the cold reception he had feared. Every now and then, he'd catch your eye, and your encouraging smile would give him the boost he needed to keep going.

"Steve," your dad started, a hint of question as he said the name, not sure if that was right. He gave time for correction, but it never came so he continued, "Y/n tells us you work at a video store. How's that treating you?"

Steve started to feel that familiar anxiety creeping back. Then he felt your hand gently touch his under the table, grounding him.

He took a deep breath and began to talk, feeling more confident with each word. "It's fun; decent pay." He started, before going on about working with friends and his boss.

Your parents listened intently, nodding and smiling, genuinely interested in what he had to say.

By the end of the night, Steve was laughing and chatting comfortably with your parents, the initial nerves long forgotten. He realized that with you by his side, he could face anything.

As you said your goodbyes, your mother stopped you, bringing you into a hug. "He's a keeper," she whispered and grinned, pinching your cheek and your became embarrassed.

Your dad brought you closer to him, after shaking Steve's hand firmly. "Be careful on the roads. Holiday traffic is the worst."

Steve grabbed your hand and began walking back to the car, Steve turned to you, gratitude and affection shining in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I couldn't have done this without you."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I knew you could do it. And now you know it too."

Steve smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the chill of the night air. He knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, with you by his side, he could handle them all.

After Steve opened your door, helping you get in without hitting your head, you turned back to the house as Steve rounded the car. Your parents stood on the edge of the porch, expressions soft. They waved, smiled gracing their face. Their little girl was with someone who seemed nice. He was respectful; he helped clean up and respected you and them. He listened when you talked, eyes scanning your face. A few times, they caught him smiling as he admired you. He even fixed a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

They were willing to welcome him back anytime, as long as he made you happy.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[rogueddie]

Steve nearly winces when he steps into the room, following behind Dustin and Mike. He's already wishing he'd tried to shut Lucas up as soon as he'd tried to say that "no, really, I don't mind!"

Because of course he's this unlucky. Of course his date would skip out almost last minute, of course he'd end up with no excuse to avoid helping Dustin with his stupid D&D game and of course the person who probably hates Steve most is crouched on the biggest chair like it's a throne.

Eddie Munson eyes lock on him immediately. He stares for a while, making Dustin and Mike shift awkwardly beside him.

"Absolutely not. No way." He's grinning though. His eyes narrow slightly at Steve, like he's daring him to do something.

"You asked for a sub, we delivered."

Steve simply raises an eyebrow, pointedly shifting the sheets Dustin had helped him make up. It draws Eddies attention off his face, finally. When he looks back up, he's smiling a little more genuinely.

The guys standing at his sides are still glaring, looking almost cruelly excited when Eddie stands up, meandering his way over to them.

He gently plucks the sheet out Steves hand, eyebrows slowly raising as he reads.

Everyone is waiting, eyeing Eddie impatiently. Dustin and Mike are tense, as though waiting for Eddie to blow up. The others seem to expect the same, though Steve imagines they're more excited for it.

"Why did you come?" Eddie eventually asks, still holding onto the character sheet. "What could possibly be so important about this that King Steve would miss the championship game?"

"Dustin said this one was important," Steve shrugs. Fights to keep his calm demeaner. "Something about it being the last one or something. He's been going on about this shit forever. Seemed cruel to leave him high and dry at the last leg."

"Well…" Eddie eyes the character sheet before handing it back. Looks Steve up and down, before finally grinning. His eyes crinkle at the edges. "Welcome to Hellfire, Lady Elora."

He sticks his hand out. Steve shakes it, trying not to grin back.

Even with how often Dustin has talked to him about the game, Steve is clueless. Dustin and Mike both save him from embarressment every time though, quick to argue different options in such a pointed way that he knows the others aren't fooled by.

But Steve doesn't mind, often finds himself rolling his eyes at their antics only to find Eddie eyeing him almost fondly.

He finds that he enjoys it though. He'd make the character Elora as a joke, mostly just throwing whatever seemed to fit at random. An Elf who's a ranger, chaotic neutral, swinging around a bat with nails.

He wonders if it sounds as stupid to everyone else as it does to him.

He's often lost on the story too. But Eddie is brilliant at telling it. Even when he doesn't understand what he means, he flinches when the others yell at a reveal. Anxiety bubbling up when things get tense, slowly getting more and more invested in the game. Even he can tell that they're nearing the end, the final fight.

"You're scared, you're tired, you are injured," Eddie says. "Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?"

Steve already knows the answer before Dustin speaks up; "I say we fight. To the death!"

"To the death," Mike echoes, nodding.

"To the death." Steve sniffs, doesn't bother fighting the grin.

Eddie grins back at him, the others chanting the sentiment. Steve feels warm with his attention locked on him.

Steve has the first roll. He still doesn't understand the numbers, but the others cheer so he assumes it must be good. But then it goes downhill, so many bad rolls.

Everyone is too hyped up for Steve to keep up so he focuses on Eddie. He's jeering, jumping up out of his seat, encouraging the chaos and seeming to control the energy of the room. When he laughs, he sounds more like a movie villain.

And then, one of them calls time out.

They huddle into a circle, just like they did in basketball. Steve is surprised by how easily two of the older boys pull him in.

"Guys, I hate to say this but we have got to flee."

"I concur."

"Didn't we just agree 'to the death'?" Steve frowns. He's not ready to give up yet. He can feel how close they are.

"That wasn't literal!"

A hand tightens on his shoulder. "Vecna just decimated us. We can't kill him with two players."

"You too?" Dustin sounds just as annoyed as Steve feels. "Vecna only has 15 more hit points left, don't be pussies!"

"Pussies? Really? Cause we're not delusional?"

"No, no, Dustins right," Steve butts in. Barely holds back a warning to Dustin about his language; it's not the time for babysitting. "We're too close now, we can't give up!"

"HEY!" Eddie calls, easily drawing all their attention back to him. "If I may interject, gentleman… whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Garreth the Greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes. Not today."

Something about his smirk and stupid head tilt just makes Steve more determined. If he has to continue fighting this stupid game alone, god dammit, he will.

Steve only half pays attention to Mike talking strategy. He's already made up his mind.

"What do you say, Elora?" Dustin turns to him, looking uncertain.

"We can kill him." Steve sounds more sure than he probably has any right to be. But he is. He can feel it in his bones. They can win.

"Fuck yeah we can," he grins at Steve. The others look more uncertain. Dustin turns back to Eddie, shoulders back, chin up and looking almost proud. "Let's kill this son of a bitch!"

Dustin gets first roll and it's bad.

It's all down to Steve.

He can feel how tense everyone is. Dustin and Gareth start yelling when he takes to long. But he can't roll yet, follows his gut; he has to get this right, has to roll at the right time.

It's just like swinging a bat in baseball, he tells himself. Just gotta time it right…

He rolls.

The dice seems to move in slow motion. Steve can almost hear each time it bounces off the board. The tension is so thick that it almost chokes him, for a moment he's sure that he can't breath.

20.

There's a moment where no one reacts. Then Dustin yells, grabbing Steves arm and shaking him in his excitement. Mike, a more similar height, throws his arms around his shoulders. It's a little painful to have him shouting directly in his ear but, he too, is too excited to care.

The others have started yelling too, Eddie dramatically overacting his shock too. Steve can't help but laugh.

It takes a while for everyone to calm down. An even longer moment to stop talking enough so they can start packing their things up. Steve only brought his jacket and character sheet, so he stays stood at the end of the table to wait for the kids.

Eddie keeps glancing up at him as he packs most of the pieces away.

"Harrington," Grant grins at him. "Never thought I'd be saying this but... thanks for coming."

"Oh, uh, yeah, no problem," Steve tries to smile.

"Dude, you missed the championship game to save our asses in DnD," Gareth grins, throwing his arm over his shoulder. "Who woulda thought, though. Steve Harrington, huh?"

The other two laugh. Steve finally feels a little lighter, on safer ground.

"How the mighty have fallen, huh?" Steve tries. And they laugh, Jeff slapping him on the back.

At the doorway, he lingers for a moment, whilst everyone else starts heading down the hall.

"Thanks for letting me play," Steve says, turning to Eddie. "I know I'm not... uh..."

"Don't strain yourself," Eddie waves him off. "It's fine. The kids have raved about you enough for me to figure out that you're a good dude."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You should join their next campaign."

"I don't know. You're graduating, right?"

"Aww, you like me that much, big boy?" He puts a hand to his chest, batting his eyelashes.

But Steve remembers the rumors that went around, remembers exactly how true they were proven to be. And, well...

"What would you say if I am?" He fires back.

Eddie, true to his reputation, is never one to back down from a fight; "then I'd tell you to ask me out like you mean it."

"Alright. If you're free tomorrow, 8pm, would you wanna go on a date? With me?"

"You picking me up in your fancy car?"

"If you want."

"Yeah, I'm free."

"So... that's a yes?"

"Yes, that's a yes."

Steve can't help but fistpump, but it makes Eddie giggle, so he counts it as a win.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 4

And this story is back!!! Sorry about last week, but I really wanted to finish the rockstar AU.

In this we get, Chrissy and the girls being cute and everyone gets to know each other a little bit more.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~

Chrissy stayed the first day to help with the meltdowns but was a little surprised when Steve let them just lie on the floor.

Steve caught her raised eyebrow and huffed a laugh. “Sometimes the best way to deal with a temper tantrum is to ignore it. Plus, their dad just left for what is not short amount of time. He’s not coming back tomorrow or even next week. He’s going to gone for months. I think they deserve a little floor time, don’t you?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Huh. I never thought it of it like that.” She walked over to the girls and laid down next to them.

When Steve came back from making breakfast, he found both girls wrapped around Chrissy and all three of them sound asleep. He went back into the kitchen and carefully wrapped up their sandwiches. Lunch could wait.

It was some time later before any of them stirred. Joan was the first. She sat up and looked around. The sun had changed position so the room was darker. She spotted her sister and Chrissy, still asleep.

She wandered the house before she spotted Steve in his room reading.

“Well hello there,” he said gently. “Are you the only one awake?”

She nodded and crawled up on his lap. “I want Daddy, but I can’t find him.”

Steve set down his book and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Remember, Joanie, Daddy’s at work now, but he said he would call as soon as he plane landed. Has he called yet?”

Joanie looked up at him thoughtfully. “Would he call you or Aunt Chrissy?”

Steve scooped her up and started carrying her down the stairs. “He said he would call Chrissy tonight, then me every night I’m working. Which is why I’m taking back to her so you don’t miss his call.”

“Daddy is going to come back right?” she asked, his voice small. “Not like Papa?”

“Your daddy would never leave you like your papa did, Joanie,” Steve murmured. “He loves you too much.”

“Then why did he leave?”

Well he wasn’t sure how to answer that in a way she would understand. “Your daddy got a once in a life time opportunity to get back together with his band. He had work with four people’s schedules. But he loved you so much that he made sure that he had someone he could trust with you and Janie, okay?”

Joan nodded and wrapped her arms around Steve’s neck as he worked his way back to the front room.

Chrissy was just waking up, but Janice was still asleep. She looked at her watch and cursed.

“Aunt Chrissy said a bad word,” Joan huffed as Steve set her down.

Chrissy head whipped around to see Steve and Joan standing in the entrance way. “Oh, hi, Joanie, I didn’t see you standing there. You shouldn’t have wandered off without telling me.”

“I went looking for Daddy and found Steve,” she said pointing to Steve.

Chrissy looked up at Steve and then back at Joan. “Good job, Joanie.” She gently untangled herself from Janice’s iron tight grip and stood up. She straightened her clothes and glared at him.

“Why did you let me sleep so long?” she huffed, crossing her arms.

Steve pulled out his phone without a word and fiddled with a moment, before turning the screen around so she could see.

“Oh.”

There on the screen was a picture of her with the girls, all cuddled together in a pile on the floor.

“Um,” she said shyly, “if I gave you my number could you send that to me? I want it as the wallpaper on my phone.”

Steve nodded. She rattled off her phone number and he sent her the picture with a grin. Behind her Janice was waking up, groggy and disorientated.

“Daddy?” Janice asked sleepily. She looked around and saw only Steve, Chrissy, and Joan and immediately burst into tears.

Chrissy wrapped her arms around the little girl and held her tight. Joan waddled up to Chrissy and tugged her shirt sleeve. Chrissy brought her willingly into the hug. “It’s all right, pumpkins I think it’s past time for lunch. And I think everyone is feeling a little hangry at the moment.”

“I’ve got sandwiches in the fridge,” Steve offered jutting his thumb behind him.

Suddenly the girls pulled away from Chrissy and made a mad dash for the kitchen, Steve fast on their heels to make sure they didn’t try to get the plate out of the fridge themselves. Chrissy followed close behind, shaking her head fondly.

~

Lunch was a hit especially when the girls saw that their sandwiches were cut into little hearts.

“Did you throw away the scraps?” Chrissy asked as she munched happily on her non-hearted turkey sandwich.

Steve shook his head. “I cut the bread before adding anything to it, condiments, meat, cheese and then I use the bread scraps to make bread crumbs. Then I trim the cheese and have a little snacking cheese while I finish the other sandwiches.”

“Clever.”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. “Hey, girls what does your Daddy say about business at the lunch table?”

Joan and Janice shared a look and shrugged.

“Daddy usually doesn’t have lunch with us because he’s working,” Joan huffed. “Usually our nanny would fix us lunch.”

Steve looked over at Chrissy in surprise. “I was under the assumption that I was the emergency au pair, as in he didn’t have one before he left. Was that not the case?”

Chrissy shook her head. “I’m sure Eddie told you that they tend to chase off their nannies?”

“We do not!” Joan huffed crossing her arms in front of her chest and pouting.

“Yeah!” Janice said. “Miss Molly spent all the time on the phone with her boyfriend.”

“We were left unsup–unpup–unstupified!” Joan said, stammering around the big word.

“Unsupervised,” Chrissy said slowly then turned to Steve. “Molly was only the most recent run of bad nannies. One was spanking them for punishment, another was smoking weed in the house. And each time, the girls would misbehave so badly that the nannies would go running and blame the girls, only for the truth to come out.”

“Miss Emily liked to scare us,” Janice said with a whimper. “Jump out of closets and stuff. Said it would make us tougher.”

“Eddie found that one out because he came home early one day when a meeting with another producer fell through,” Chrissy said shaking her head. “She lasted two weeks.”

“Jimney Cricket,” Steve cursed. He turned to the girls. “I promise to not spank you or scare you or be on the phone with my boyfriend or girlfriend, mainly because I don’t have one.”

Joan cocked her head to the side. “You like both? Can you do that?”

“Yup!” Chrissy said brightly. “I’ve had a couple of boyfriends in the past. I just decided that girls were easier and more fun.”

Steve nearly snorted his water. He was so glad the girls were way too young to catch Chrissy’s meaning. Because, hooboy, their dad had only been away for a couple of hours and already Chrissy had gone feral.

“So you’ve had boyfriends and girlfriends?” Janice asked Steve, her head tilted the opposite direction of her sister so their heads were almost touching.

“I have!” he told her brightly. “Just not in a while. I’ve been taking care of sweethearts like you and have been too busy to date.”

Chrissy eyed him like he was a piece of meat she was thinking of serving up. Most likely to Eddie. His boss.

“But you aren’t a nanny, right?” Janice asked. “You’re an off pear? Is that rotted fruit?”

Chrissy and Steve shared a glance before they both burst out laughing.

“Au. Pair,” Steve said slowly. “Traditionally a young woman from a foreign country hired to cook, clean, and watch small children in exchange for housing and a small income. But I’m a little bit different.” He held up his finger and thumb really close together.

“Is because your a boy?” Joan asked at the same time Janice asked, “Is it because you aren’t foreign?”

Steve laughed again. “You’re both right. Though my mom is Italian, but I was born here in Indiana.”

“Just like us!” Joan said, throwing her arms in the air and almost knocking her plate and half of her sandwich off onto the floor.

“It’s all right, Joanie,” Steve soothed when she got really upset about almost knocking her plate on the floor. “You learned a valuable lesson in making sure your plate is pushed far enough on the table that it won’t get easily spilled.”

She sniffled but nodded.

They went back to eating and as Steve was cleaning up Chrissy asked him what he wanted to discuss at the table that got sidetracked by the girls.

“Just wondering when we should start looking for other help,” he said over his shoulder as he washed the dishes. “I don’t think we need to start right away for the cleaner and cook since there won’t be a lot of need for it, but a pool cleaner, ground maintenance, and gardener/ groundskeeper should be our top priorities.”

Chrissy stared at him for a moment. “Holy shit, you’re efficient. Yeah, we can start on all that shit tomorrow. I have the next couple of weeks off to help you settle the girls in. Eddie’s been gone for a weekend or two before and they’ve spent the night with me, so I’m always on call if you need anything.”

Steve smiled at her, wiping his wet hands on a rag he had draped over his shoulder while he washed.

“That’s great,” he said. “I won’t be able to keep calling on you because they’re going to need to get used it just being me.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Eddie really likes you and wants you to do well here so he’s authorized me to help you out anyway I can.”

“You don’t know what a relief it is to hear that,” Steve said, leaning against the counter. “Most parents either don’t care or are so afraid you’re trying to steal their children’s love that they undermine you at every turn.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about that with me or Eddie,” Chrissy said firmly. “Honestly it’s a relief. I’m not mom material. I never intended to be one. I like being Auntie Chris, but I’ve had to step up since Ethan walked out on them. It’s not fair to Eddie and it’s not fair to me either. So for both of us, having you come in and be that other parental figure in their lives is a huge fucking relief.”

Steve chuckled. “Duly noted.” He threw the balled up towel into a nearby basket. He liked having a place to put his used towels and wash cloths so he could remember to wash them as often as they needed to be.

“He shoots!” Chrissy cheered. “He scores!”

She waved her arms like she had pompoms in them and jumped in the air. Steve laughed.

“I may have played basketball in high school,” he said, a little sheepishly. Judging from the answers at the get to know everyone dinner, it seemed that the family didn’t do sports much and were very nerdy.

She leaned forward and put her hand to the side of her mouth and stage whispered, “And I might have been a cheerleader in high school and college.”

Steve’s interest was suddenly very piqued. “Really? That’s so cool!”

“Yup!” Chrissy said with a nod. “My mom wanted me to go pro, but I got a business degree for a reason and that was to manage the band. Eddie saved me from an emotionally abusive relationship when I went to him for weed and came out of the deal with a best friend.”

“Nice!” Steve said holding his hand out for a fist bump, which she gladly gave. “Me and my best friend met working at this hideously themed ice cream shop. We became friends when the owner tried to burn it down for the insurance but the idiot didn’t stop to think that we would still be cleaning up.”

Chrissy grimaced. But before she could respond her phone started ringing. “Oh shit, that’s Eddie!”

She went dashing out of the room, calling for the girls. Steve followed slower behind as he wasn’t really needed for the bit of that conversation.

As soon as he walked into the room and in view of the camera Eddie called out, “There he is! He survived day one!”

“Day isn’t over with yet,” Steve pointed out with a huff of laughter. “I’m dreading night time. It’s a bath night.”

Eddie and Chrissy both winced.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “I wasn’t thinking about that when we chose today to leave. Good luck and may Poseidon keep you safe from Scylla and Charybdis.”

“Daddy!” Joan and Janice huffed. “We’re not monsters!”

“I got that reference!” Steve said, snapping his fingers. “Do you girls like Percy Jackson?”

Chrissy burst out laughing. “That would be tamer, but no, this idiot has read them straight up Greek myths.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested from the phone. “I’ll have you know I carefully edited out the worst parts and was sure not to introduce to stories like Oedipus and Circe’s island, thank you very much.”

“I loved hearing about myths and legends when I was a kid,” Steve said with a shrug. “I’m sure the girls are no different.” He turned to Eddie, “if it’s okay with you, I’d like to start reading those books to them.”

Eddie shrugged on the video. “I guess, I mean if they could handle me reading myths to them, they could probably handle that. Just not at night. Night time is for learning. They have a lot of great Sandra Boynton books I would prefer you read to them instead.”

They started talking about other things and soon it was time for Eddie to go. He kissed the screen and said goodbye to the girls.

Steve got them all dressed for some outside play that Janice loved and Joan merely tolerated. As he watched them play in the massive yard, he figured that today could absolutely count as a good day.

~

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

10- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers

[antiquarianfics]

The Best Things Take Time

Bucky has a code. You manage to crack it.

A/N: This took me so long because I wasn't really sure how I wanted to go about it. I'm pretty happy with it, I think. Also, my first request! I hope I did your brain-child justice. :) Warnings: Mild language. Based on this request. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

----

Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date—even with Sam and Yori pushing him all the time. His triggers are gone, yes, but he is starkly aware that he still has a long way to go before he might be considered ready to give time and energy to another person on a daily basis. However, if there is anyone in the world that makes him reconsider his own rule, it’s you.

The two of you first formally met when Steve, Sam, and yourself finally tracked him down. You were kind to him, but you kept your distance. He never made many attempts to speak with you, but the short interactions he did have with you were short and clinical. He never asked, but he’s pretty sure you’re afraid of him—of what he’s done.

Despite this assumption, Bucky takes note of the way you drop everything to help him time and time again. You back him in Washington, you back him in Siberia, you back him in Wakanda, and you back him in Washington in the second go-round. He is appreciative—very much so—but he keeps his distance regardless. After all, he shouldn’t risk losing an ally by something as silly as small talk.

Things begin to change, though, when he runs into you at the airport. Both him and you felt the need to get on Sam’s back about giving up the shield.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, a little indignantly. You cringe a little at your tone, but you brush it off nonetheless.

Bucky shoots you an annoyed look before turning to Sam.

Throughout the mission to track down the Flag Smashers, you and Bucky bicker (even more than Sam and Bucky do). You challenge him on every opinion he shares, poke fun at every misstep he takes, and side with Sam for the sake of disagreeing with him. He returns the favor, and he ignores the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth.

Your interactions are not particularly pleasant, sure, but they’re existent—which is progress.

—

“Does he always stare like that?” Walker asks Sam, eyeing Bucky uncomfortably.

“You get used to it,” Sam replies.

You glare at Walker. His attitude towards you and your boys bothers you. His entitlement to Steve’s shield and name bothers you. He bothers you.

“Does she always stare like that?” Walker asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Only when douchebags harass my friends,” you deadpan.

You are plenty aware this is the first time you’ve called Bucky your friend, and you can tell he is too by the way his eyes shift from Walker to you. You’re not aware, though, that your concession of friendship serves as the push he needs to talk to you more.

—

It takes time, but over the next few weeks, Bucky manages to get you to open up. He’s surprised with himself by how he’s willing to talk to you; after all, people are usually trying to get him to talk.

Bucky finds out that you’re actually not as reserved as he thought, but you had heard both Steve’s stories of before and multiple people’s accounts of after. Your distance, you admit, was a consequence of you trying to give him space when everyone else was crowding him. Your teasing and bickering with him was a consequence of trying to create said space. The revelation makes Bucky’s heart clench: no one has made him feel so cared for in a long time.

Bucky sticks by his no dating rule, though. After all, you may be friends, and you may be acting nicer to him lately, but there’s no way you like him like that.

Or, at least he thinks so until Louisiana.

—

“Hey, Sarah,” Bucky says, flashing a charming smile at her from where he sits next to Sam and yourself on the dock.

“Hey!” You smack his chest with the back of your hand. “No flirting with Sam’s sister.”

He lets his attention shift to you, and he can’t help the surprise. He’s aware that you could just be enforcing Sam’s demand from earlier, but you’re so adamant. He thinks maybe he sees a flash of jealousy in your eyes, but he thinks, too, he might just be seeing what he wants to see.

Sam and Sarah continue to bicker before she shoos the three of you away from the boat. Sam and Bucky step onto the dock and begin to walk away before you, and they keep walking even when Sarah stops you.

“Subtle,” she says, smirking at you. You wave her off, your face heating up with a blush.

“Shut up,” you say, embarrassment entwined with each syllable.

Bucky thinks maybe—just maybe—you might like him back.

—

Looking back on the last few years, Bucky can hardly believe the journey you and he had been on. Being so distant most of your time together in the first few years, and then being so rude to each other the next few, and then needing a push from the Wilsons to actually do anything about your feelings… it was interesting, to say the least.

He remembers the day you agreed to leave Louisiana with him. It was an impulsive decision, but it led to the first time the two of you had truly been alone together. It led to inside jokes and deep conversations. It led to a genuine friendship.

“I’m headed out tomorrow,” Bucky informed you and Sam.

The three of you were sitting on the porch of Sarah’s house, conversation flowing from friendly jests, to Karli, to the boat, to whatever else. Your head shot up to stare at him, eyes widening.

“What? Why?” Your tone was a little panicked. Bucky raised his eyebrows at your tone. Sam laughed, and you shot him a glare.

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, Doll,” he said. Ever since the incident with Sarah, he’d let a few pet names for you fall from his lips, and he smugly noted the way they made you squirm.

“Oh.”

“Well!” Sam exclaimed, clapping his palms on his knees as he stood. “I’m gonna go check on Sarah and the boys while you,” he pointed at the two of you in turn, “figure whatever is going on here out.”

You protested, but Sam was gone without another word. Neither one of you spoke for a moment, and you chewed on your lip.

“You’re really going?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“You can come with me, if you want,” he offered before he can think better of himself.

Your eyes shot to his, analyzing his face for any sort of jest. He seemed sincere, and once you decided he wasn’t pulling your leg, you responded.

“Okay.”

He remembers the day the two of you finally addressed that you were more than friends. Bucky, of course, has a no dating rule, and you? You had no such thing, but you weren’t dating either. In fact, you hadn’t since before Karli and the Flag Smashers showed up.

Bucky and yourself were at a bar, drinking and laughing with one another. He was sober, of course, but you were a little tipsy. You had a dopey smile on your face that he thought was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He still thinks your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

That’s when a young woman sauntered up to the bar. She was gorgeous; her long, black braids reached her waist, her lips were painted a bright red color, and she wore a halter top that left little to the imagination.

“Hi,” she said, grabbing your attention, shooting you a flirtatious smile.

“Hi!” You said, the alcohol making you friendlier than you usually are.

“I saw you across the bar, and I was jus’ wonderin’, would you wanna grab a drink with me? Maybe dance a lil’?” Her eyes dragged down your body and back up to your eyes.

Your eyes widened and you blushed.

“Oh, uh! T-thank you! I’m flattered, but, uh, I got my guy right here, and I kinda like him too much to date!” You sort of yell-whispered the confession to the girl.

She glanced behind you to Bucky whose eyes had also widened in shock, his mouth hanging open a little. The woman laughed and touched your shoulder comfortingly.

“‘s alright,” she assured. “Was worth a shot, though.”

She turned to Bucky then.

“Yo, congrats, man. You’re a lucky guy once you two talk that through.”

With that, she had left, and you turned around to Bucky.

“Look,” you said, more sober sounding than you’d been since the two of you arrived at the bar. “I don’t know what you think this is, or what you want it to be, but I’m all in if you are.”

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you without a second thought.

And he remembers the moment he decided he was going to marry you, if you’d have him.

The two of you were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment; after about two years of dating, you insisted you live together.

“Buck, you’re always here. All your stuff is here. I don’t think you’ve stepped foot in your apartment in a month. You’re just wasting money on rent at this point.”

You were leaned into his side, eyes glued to the tv screen. The two of you were watching The Princess Bride (it’s one of the many movies you insisted was so culturally significant that he had to see it). It was the way you would turn to him at your favorite parts, gauging his reactions to see if he loved it like you did; the way you would mouth the most iconic lines along with the characters; and the way you would sigh contentedly and cuddle further into his side at the romantic scenes that really pulled the realization from deep within him. And, perhaps, it was the way you produced the most ridiculous voice to say "Mawwiage! Mawwiage is what bwings us here today!" that truly brought the idea of marrying you to the forefront of his mind. Regardless, he knew he wanted you around for the rest of his already over-extended lifetime.

—

Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date, and he decided late in his life as a free man that he wasn't going to ever try and date anyone other than you. So, here he finds himself, kneeling on the ground in front of you with a ring extended towards your person, and hoping you'll say yes.

"Sweetheart, I know we've had a lot of ups and downs. We met when I wasn't truly myself, we got together when I was still figuring out who I am on my own—without Steve, without HYDRA—but no matter what, you've been there for me. You're still here for me.

"You deserve the world, Doll, and I want to give it to you. I want to be here for all your ups and downs, and I want to spend my life being to you what you've already been to me.

"You're my partner, you're my best friend, you're the love of my life. And if you'll have me, I'll be your king, if you'll be my queen. I'll be your husband, if you'll be my wife.

"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?"

You let out a laugh through a sob, pulling your hand to your face to quickly wipe your tears away, and you nod vigorously. You drop to your knees, pulling Bucky's face into your hands, caressing his cheek gently. Smiling, you respond.

"James Bucky Barnes, of course I'll marry you."

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter twenty one

Summary: Steve and Bucky have words.

Warning: Fighting. Punches. Swearing.

Word Count: 1151

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: Oh Steven, Steven, Steven. - 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

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

Following Steve out of the apartment, Bucky slammed the door behind him. It echoed through the quiet hallway. Each step that Steve took was heavy with barely restrained fury. Bucky was trying to keep his own emotions in check, knowing that Steve’s anger was about to erupt any moment. 

As they reached the street, Steve abruptly turned to Bucky, his eyes blazed with rage. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded in a low voice.

Bucky’s frustration bubbled within as he clenched his fists. “It was harmless teasing, Steve.” 

“Harmless?” Steve snapped, his fists clenching at his sides as he stepped closer. “That didn’t seem harmless to me, Bucky. You were out of line, and you know it.” 

Taking a deep breath, Bucky met Steve’s glare head-on. “She started it,” he retorted, his tone sharp with anger. “Besides, she’s a Rogers. She can handle herself.” 

“That’s not the point,” Steve growled.” She’s my sister, Bucky. And, now she’s fucking Peter?” 

Bucky’s temper flared. “She’s an adult. She can make her own choices… Besides, Peter seems like a good kid.” 

“A good kid?” Steve raised his voice. His anger intensifies. “A good kid who’s sleeping with my sister? I don’t think so.” 

Bucky realized how far Steve’s mind had gone with the idea of you and Peter. “Steve, listen,” he started, but he was too late. Steve had already begun walking, his strides purposeful. 

“We’re going to Parker’s,” He announced, his voice boomed and his time left no room for argument. 

Hurrying his steps, Bucky tried to keep up. “Steve, man, calm down. You’re not thinking straight.” 

His jaw clenched, and his strides sped up. “I’m thinking perfectly straight, Buck. He will understand exactly what happens when he messes with my sister.” 

Grabbing Steve’s arm, Bucky forced him to stop. “Are we really doing this?” 

Steve shook off Bucky’s hand, carrying on down the street. “Yes, we are.” 

Bucky tried to keep his voice calm. “He’ll tell her, you know, the second we leave. Or, what are you going to do? Another Walker situation?” 

Steve froze. Betrayal and fury fuelled beneath him as he turned to Bucky. “What did you just say to me?”

Holding his ground, Bucky kept his voice steady. “You heard me. This isn’t the way to handle it, Punk. Going after the kid isn’t going to solve anything.” 

Steve directed his anger toward Bucky, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “So what, Buck? I just let it go?”

“This isn’t about Peter is it?” Bucky said firmly. “Admit it, Steve. This is about you still not wanting me to date her.” 

Steve’s conflicting emotions caused his face to twist, his anger flaring. “This isn’t about you and her. This is about protecting her.” 

Taking a step closer, Bucky’s voice was low and fierce. “No, it’s about you not trusting me. You think I’m going to hurt her.” 

Steve’s eyes narrowed, taking a step right into Bucky’s face. The tension crackled between the friends. “Damn right, I don’t! Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her? It’s been the same since we were kids. And every fucking time, I’ve had to step in and stop it.”

“Step in?” Bucky’s eyes widened in shock and anger. “You’ve beaten the shit out of me every time you thought I was crossing the line! Every god damn time, Steve!” 

“She’s my sister!” Steve’s eyes filled with righteous fury. “You were crossing the line! I won’t let anyone hurt her, especially not you.” 

“Especially not me?” Bucky’s temper had snapped. “I’ve done nothing but protect her, take care of her! You’re the one who’s too blind with overprotectiveness to see she’s not a kid anymore!” 

He shoved Bucky hard as his anger surged. “You think I’m blind? You think I don’t know what’s best for her? You’re fucking reckless, Bucky, you always have been!” Bucky quickly regained his footing after a slight stumble, his rage boiling. Stave advanced on Bucky, his fists tightened. “I won’t let her get hurt because of you. Not now, not ever.” 

Squaring his shoulders, Bucky refused to back down. “You think beating me up will change anything? Do you think it’ll make me suddenly stop caring about her? You’re wrong.” 

He swung at Bucky, his fury reaching its breaking point. A punch landed squarely on his jaw. Bucky’s fists came up in defense as he staggered but didn’t fall. “You want to do this, pal? Fine. But know this, I won’t stop fighting for her, no matter what you do.” 

Swinging again, Steve froze in surprise as Bucky caught his fist and pushed back. He slammed Steve into a nearby wall. “Can you imagine what it feels like to watch the only person you’ve ever loved fall for someone else?” Bucky’s voice scratched with a raw mix of anger and pain. 

Struggling against Bucky’s grip, Steve’s gaze met his. His eyes filled with defiance. “You’re not in love with her.” 

Bucky slammed Steve against the wall again, harder this time. His grip against Steve tightened. “Don’t fucking dare tell me how I feel,” he hissed. 

The two friends stood facing each other as the fight was inevitable, and both knew it had been a long time coming. 

In a sudden blur, Steve broke free from Bucky’s grip. He delivered a swift uppercut that connected to Bucky’s jaw. Bucky staggered back again, but he regained his footing. Charging again, Steve’s fists flew in a flurry of strikes. Bucky ducked and weaved. He landed a solid punch to Steve’s ribs, causing him to grunt in pain.

Steve’s punches were wild and angry giving Bucky the chance to counter a hard right hook. Steve barely flinched before throwing himself at Bucky. He tackled him to the ground. The force knocked the wind out of Bucky, and they both rolled across the pavement, grappling for control.

With gritted teeth, Bucky pushed Steve off him, sending him sprawling. Scrambling to his feet quickly Steve didn’t notice Bucky had been faster. Swinging a powerful punch which Steve barely managed to block. 

After more punches were thrown, Bucky shouted. “Enough!” His voice hoarse as he took a step forward, his eyes locking with Steve’s. “Twenty years, Steve. You’ve got to stop fighting me on this. I’ve loved her for twenty fucking years, and that’s not changing. If her not feeling the same way toward me doesn’t stop that, neither will a black eye from you.” 

His chest heaved as he met Bucky’s gaze again. The fight had drained out the both of them, Steve’s replaced with a mix of frustration and resignation. Standing there, his breathing heavy, he struggled to find words. He couldn’t deny the truth in Bucky’s eyes, a true testament to the years of unspoken desire. 

The street faded away for a moment, leaving the two of them locked in a silent battle of emotions.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[flowercrowngods]

@steddie-week

part 1 (bc this is one big 7 part story)

day 02: bittersweet & angst

1 new message

eddie The Problem munson: engagement party on saturday babyyyy 🥳🥸🕺

Steve’s been staring at the message for two days now. It's sitting in his notifications, staring at him like a painful reminder of what happened exactly seven days ago. A week. It's only been a week, and Steve somehow it feels like it was both only one day or seven months ago.

It's an almost liminal experience, walking through life without texting Eddie every second of the day – because texting him would mean opening his message. It would make this real.

And that's the last thing Steve wants.

"I'm not going," Robin declares as they're cuddling on the couch, wallowing in their misery as Mayday Parade's Oh Well, Oh Well is playing for the eighth time on repeat. "Tell me you're not going, Stevie."

"Robbie," he sighs, squeezing her tighter as she tries to wriggle out of his arms to glare at him.

"Steve."

"I can't not go."

"Yes you can." She pokes him in the ribs, but he doesn't budge. She pokes him again. "Not going to things is literally the easiest thing in the world. It's a hundred times easier than going to things. You should try it sometime, trust me. You go to too many things, and–"

"Bee," he hums to get her out of the rambling spiral before she can get lost in it.

"What I'm saying," he interrupts herself dramatically, "is that you can't do this to yourself. They're engaged. They're getting married. We're going to keep our distance until our brains and hearts and the traitorous little chemicals in our bodies catch up to reality, and then we get over them, and then we can go back and see them ever again. That's the logical thing to do, Steve. But you can't... You can't just go and get your heart broken and talk yourself into thinking it's the right thing to do. It's not."

Steve sighs into her hair and buries his face in her neck. He knows that. Technically, logically, he does.

But not going feels wrong. Wronger than anything else that's been hollowing out his chest and leaving nothing but emptiness and the ghosts of every smile, every touch, every baby, love, sweetheart, sunshine. Every imaginary future, every scenario where Eddie meant it. Meant those words, meant those smiles, meant it when he took Steve's hand to hold it.

But Eddie did mean it. Every time, he meant it; because he calls Argyle and Jeff and Gareth baby and sunshine and sweetheart, too. He takes their hands, too, leans in to kiss their cheeks and just holds them when he needs to. That's just the kind of person Eddie is. Always has been.

To go and assume he never meant it would be unfair.

To go and hope it could ever mean more when Chrissy has always been right there would just be stupid.

Well, good thing Steve has that kind of reputation with a few people anyway, so it's not even a statistical outlier, that one. It's not even worth a side note.

"I know," he rasps, his eyes beginning to sting as the next lyrics are carved into the empty space of where his heart used to be.

Oh well, oh well I can't live with myself As I'm climbing in your window to get to your bed.

And I'll be what you need, You can call me anything. Just as long as we're still friends.

Tears prickle in his eyes and he doesn't bother to hold them back. Not now, not with Robin. They've both been crying on and off all week, even though Robin took it better than him.

"I know," he sobs, wrapping his arms around her even tighter as she lets herself be held because she knows that's what he needs. "I know, I know, I know. But I have to. I can't just... I can't just stop, Bee."

"I know," she sighs, climbing out of his hold eventually to wrap her arms around him in return as he cries into her shoulder.

The world (read: his Spotify playlist) makes it worse by playing Sum 41's With Me next, ripping out even the newly carved words.

Robin holds him for the rest of the night, even as he finally opens Eddie's message and types out a reply.

—I'll come!

And especially when there's a new message immediately.

—hot 🥵❤️

He leaves Eddie on read after that.

~*~

Saturday rolls around in a haze, and suddenly Steve finds himself looking at the front door of the little house Chrissy inherited after her mother passed a few years ago. It's a nice little house. Quaint. Perfect. Everything Steve could ever dream of, actually. And she deserves it. All of this and more.

There's noise coming from the garden, where people are laughing and having a great time. A happy time, celebrating their friends and all the good things in life that come with a love well placed.

God, what is he doing here? He can't do this. There is no way.

He's just about to pull out his phone and call Robin, tell her he's coming home, or ask her to tell him everything's gonna be alright, when–

"Steve!" Chrissy hurries towards him, throwing her arms around him in a tight, warm, perfect hug. God, he loves her so much. He melts right into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her middle to spin her around with a grin.

She giggles in delight and tells him to let her down again, which only makes him spin for another round, his grin turning into a genuine laugh.

"No, I hate you!" she laughs, but still doesn't step away from him when he puts her down again. Instead, she leans up and brushes a kiss to his cheek. "Hi, asshole."

"Hi."

He grins and takes her hands in his, just smiling at her for another moment before his eyes trail down to a ring he's never seen her wear before. Ah. Right.

"Oh shit! That it?"

"That's it," Chrissy says, looking down at her hand to look at the ring with a fond, happy little smile, her cheeks flushing red. It breaks Steve a little, but it also fixes something inside him to see her so truly, genuinely happy. "Pretty huh?"

"Very," Steve breathes, hiding the lump in his throat with a sound of awe.

Chrissy hugs him again for good measure and then takes his hand to drag him into the backyard the same way she just came out front, through a little gate off to the side instead of through the house.

Steve loves their backyard because it's always covered in sheerly endless colourful strings of light that are wrapped around decorative arches or poles, framing the back doors and the canopy swing set on the lawn, and just give it the most homey and comfortable atmosphere.

"Stevie!" Eddie exclaims immediately and jumps off from his chair, interrupting a conversation he's apparently been having with Argyle and Nancy to run up to him with such a giddy expression that Steve wants to cry. His heart leaps in his chest, coming back to life and saying one last goodbye at the same time.

"Hi," he says, hugging Eddie close before he can so much as think about what he's doing. But no matter how hurt he is, there will never be a world in which he won't want to hug Eddie Munson. "Sorry I'm late."

"No sorries, it's fine," Eddie murmurs into his neck, staying in the embrace endlessly, and Steve takes the chance to breathe him in. He smells so good. So, so good. It clogs his lungs and renders him unable to speak.

But who needs to speak when they have Eddie in their arms? Who needs to speak when all they have to do is never let go?

Eddie squeezes him a little tighter, and Steve wants to cry. He slowly, gently pushes away from the hug and turns towards the other guests, greeting them with a grin, a hug, or a handshake if they're not familiar.

When he gets to Wayne, the man eyes him with a look that Steve doesn't want to read too much, and his embrace is just a little longer, just a little stronger than usual.

“You look tired, son,” he says by way of greeting, and Steve can’t help but snort and shake his head a little.

“Good to see you again, too, old man.”

Wayne eyes him for one moment longer, then breaks into a small smile and pats Steve’s shoulder before stepping around him to go grab another drink.

After that, the night passes in a blur of talking to his friends, trying to understand what the hell it is that has Nancy and Argyle arguing so profusely, but with smiles on their faces. He fails. But it’s good to see them again, so he just basks in it for a while.

Or, he tries, because every second that he’s not talking or listening to someone, his eyes flick back to Eddie. Eddie, who’s lifting Chrissy from behind and smacking a loud, wet kiss to her neck, her jaw and her cheek, accompanied by her delighted squeals and laughter.

Eddie, who’s looking larger than life, a happy grin permanently plastered on his face as he reminds their guests that Chrissy was his bisexual awakening.

“I swear, she just swept me off my feet after years of thinking I was only into dudes. Knew I had to marry her, but man, I don’t know why she said yes.”

“I’m settling, honey,” Chrissy calls from the other end of the table they’re sitting around. “Only in it for that rockstar money and all.”

The whole table laughs at that.

“Hear, hear,” Eddie snorts, lifting his glass in a toast. Steve and the others lift theirs, too, even though Steve’s hand and arm and whole body feels numb and he’s not entirely sure he’s breathing.

A while later, he grabs a drink and retreats to the canopy swing, illuminated in the soft pink flow of the fairy lights wrapped around it. Eddie’s eyes land on him for a second and Steve thinks that he’ll come over and join him — but then one of Chrissy’s friends says something that distracts him and seemingly makes him fall into a monologue of sorts.

Steve watches, feeling only loss and longing as he does. Eddie is a force of nature. A spectacle. Something beautiful, something powerful, something secret that only a select few get to witness. To know. To appreciate.

Staring as he is, blind to the rest of the world, he startles a little when the swing jostles with another weight settling on it. He didn’t see Wayne coming to join him, and he’s not quite sure whether he should be grateful for the company or apprehensive of what the man who’s like a father to him might have to say.

“How are you doing, son?”

He frowns. “I’m alright.”

Wayne only hums, and Steve’s frown deepens. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tells him Wayne knows something. That he knows.

“Y’know,” he continues after a while, not looking at Steve but rather at his nephew and his fiancée. “I always figured it would be you.”

Steve crumbles. Yeah, me too, he wants to say, but that would be a lie. Watching the way Chrissy sits on Eddie’s lap with his arms around her, his chin on her shoulder as he tells her something that makes her laugh that cute, pretty, adorable laugh that Eddie then can’t help but join — that’s just something Steve would never compare to. Nothing he’d ever want to come in between.

Eddie and Chrissy are perfect. They’re happy. They fit, they match, they work. They worked so hard and treat each other so right.

They look giddy and serene at the same time, and it makes Steve’s eyes sting. Because he can never make Eddie look like that. He can never make Eddie look at him like that.

I always figured it would be you.

But he couldn’t. That bubbly kind of love, the sunshine kind of love. He knows that’s not for him. Steve’s too much for that. He would never be enough for Eddie — even if without Eddie, there’s nothing left of him.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Wayne continues, unaware of Steve’s thought spiral. “I love that girl, I do. Always will. I think she’s too good for Eddie. Don’t tell him I said that,” he adds hastily, and Steve smiles through the tears that threaten to fall again.

“They’re perfect,” he rasps, laughing wetly as Chrissy starts chasing Eddie, who’s hiding behind a very distressed Argyle, who just wants his brochachos to chill!

Maybe it’s a laugh, maybe it’s a sob. He doesn’t have it in him to find out or care.

“They are. Doesn’t mean they’re right, son.”

Steve sighs and tears his eyes away from Eddie. “Wayne.”

“I know, I know.” He lifts his hands in defence. “Shutting up.” After a long pause of holding Steve’s eyes, he asks, “Will you be okay?”

No, he thinks immediately, the lump in his throat too big to say anything. So he just shrugs and swallows. “Sure.”

Maybe. Hardly. Probably not. Definitely not.

"No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me. You’ll always have a home with an open door with me, you hear me?"

"I’m not going anywhere, wayne," Steve says, though for the first time ever he doesn't really believe that. Maybe he needs to leave. To leave Eddie behind. Get over him. Cut out his heart and leave it here, run away to heal somewhere else, come back as a new person, or just stay away forever.

The thought makes a tear spill as an empty kind of desperation spreads it’s ugly wings inside his chest, and he's too frozen to wipe it away.

"You hear me?" Wayne repeats, gentler this time, but no less urgent for it.

"Yeah," steve rasps. "Thanks."

Another tear falls as Eddie gently pulls Chrissy closer to him and kisses her in the soft glow of the fairy lights above and around them. Their friends cheer. Steve wants to cry his heart out again.

“I—“ he swallows, wiping at his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. I can’t do this, he wants to say. For the first time, that’s what he wants to say. “I think I’m gonna head home soon.”

“You bring your car?”

He shakes his head, feeling foggy and dazed and empty and endlessly, endlessly sad. “Was gonna, uh—“

“Let me drive you.” There’s no room for debate or argument there, and Steve wants to crumble again, but still he shakes his head.

“Wayne, no—“

“I’m taking you, son. Make sure you get home safe, or I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Don’t wanna keep your old man up all night, do ya?”

Steve concedes with a fond eye roll and a grateful smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They sit like that for another ten minutes — and if Steve leans into Wayne’s side a little, then that’s nobody’s business but theirs.

The car ride is quiet, but it feels weighted even as Wayne pretends not to see the way Steve keeps wiping at his cheeks as the silent tears keep falling, leaving him powerless to stop them.

I can’t do this, he keeps thinking over and over again.

“Just a little warning,” Wayne speaks up again as he pulls up to Steve’s building. “I think he’s going to ask you to be his best man, Stevie. Don’t do anything you’re not ready for, okay?”

I can’t do this.

He nods, numb again.

“I’ll do anything for him,” he breathes.

“That’s what I’m afraid of, yeah.”

He gets out of the car before he can find out what exactly Wayne means by that. The car stays where it is until the front door closes behind him, until he’s up in his bedroom and finds Robin already asleep.

Ten minutes later, he cuddles close to her and tries hard not to cry, but tonight’s memories have burned themselves into his mind. And he shouldn’t have gone. He knows. He knows.

I’ll do anything. I can’t do this. I’ll do anything. I can’t do this.

He can’t breathe, and Robin holds him through it, whispering sleepily to him as he cries himself to sleep, wishing for a world where he’s not absolutely and utterly in love with Eddie Munson, but failing to imagine one.

I’ll do anything. Anything but this.

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen come back tomorrow for idk which prompt | read part 3 here

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 50

Part 1 Part 49

Steve feels like he’s drowning, always. It’s just hard to care about school too much when he knows there’s a different universe beneath their feet just waiting to gobble him back up. Barbara is anchor. She keeps his feet on this side of the ground with a roll of her eyes and patience beyond her years for his stupid questions.

Every Thursday is like a mad dash to get all of his homework done. She seems to know that he won’t do it any other day of the week. Too busy drowning, always.

Nancy, having heard the words “Study Group,” had joined by the second week. Barbara had pretended to be exasperated, but seemed excited once Jonathan hadn’t made his own appearance.

Where Barbara was all exasperated patience, Nancy never moves past the exasperation. She tries to beat the answers into his head with an iron fist until Barbara will take over, leaving Nancy to work on her own assignments and stew about Steve’s apparent stupidity.

When it gets too stressful, Steve’s mind drifts to Eddie, down the hall in the drama room, telling his stories with his usual dramatic flair. His eyes would be twinkling as he watches the members of Hellfire stumble around making mistake after mistake. God, he misses him.

But, every failed class is another step behind Eddie. What if Eddie wants to move, leave Hawkins in the rearview mirror, leaving Steve along with it? So, he tries his best. He studies. He tries.

Steve doesn’t notice something has changed until Nancy groands. He looks up, ready to drop his English homework at almost no provocation. Carol has slid into the empty seat at their table and is now dragging notebooks out of her backpack like she was invited.

“Can I help you?” Nancy asks, voice practically dripping with disdain.

Carol looks up at her, eyes wide and innocent. “Is this not a public use libaray?” she asks, fishing a pencil out of her back without looking just so she can twirl it around her fingers effortlessly.

Nancy narrows her eyes. “There are other tables.”

“Steve invited me.”

Steve can’t help the snort. If talking to Eddie about it when Carol had happened to walk by counts as an invitation, who is Steve to deny her? This time, both Nancy and Carol glare at him. He holds his hands up placatingly. They’re like sharks though, and there’s blood in the water. He just hopes not too much of it is his.

“What do you mean you invited her?” Nancy demands.

Steve scowls. “I can invite whoever I want!”

Barbara sighs, rolling her eyes as she snaps her book shut. “Can we just get back to–”

“Is this a lover’s spat?” Carol interrupts, smiling at Nancy sweetly the way she does just before her claws swipe. “Oh, wait no. You ditched him, didn’t you?”

Nancy’s cheeks darken with embarassment, but she says hotly, “I did not ditch–”

Carol doesn’t let Nancy finish. “Did you wait until he was out of the hospital, at least, to fall into Byers’ bed?”

“Carol,” Barbara says, sounding pissed. “Can you shut the fuck up?”

But it’s too late. Nancy gathers her things and stalks out of the library in a huff. Steve sighs.

“Was that necessary?” he asks, plunking his head down on the table. God, why were these people even his friends? He misses Eddie ever more. Eddie would never make things so fucking awkward. He latches onto their connection, letting it warm him from the inside out as he watches Carol examine her nails.

“Sorry for defending you,” she says, like she actually believes it.

Steve sighs again, even more wearily, suddenly too tired to keep his eyes open. “You’ve gotta stop starting shit without all the facts, Carol.” he says, not even opening his eyes to look at her. “We figured it out weeks ago.”

The only sound at their table, in the whole library, is the noise of paper fluttering. He peeks through his eye, sees Barbara has opened her book on the table once more. “Why do you think she’s even here?” she says, glaring down at her book. “Do you think Steve would’ve invited her if they hadn’t hashed it out?”

Carol looks down at Steve’s raised eyebrow, knowing him too well. Because yes, yes he would. Steve had been born with a chronic need to make everyone like him. It’s uncurrable and Carol has spent a not inconsiderable amount of time telling people to fuck off on Steve’s behalf.

He glares up at her, refusing to raise his head. She rolls her eyes. “Fine! I’ll apologize to little Miss Wheeler,” she says. When Barbara and Steve just keep staring at her she continues. “Tomorrow, no way in hell am I chasing Wheeler down.”

“Whatever you say,” Steve says, but he dutifully raises his head and opens his own book when Barbara snaps her fingers in his face.

One second he’s looking down, trying to make out the gibberish words of Macbeth, and then he’s there – still in the library, but it’s gone wrong again. There are vines crawling on the carpet, and it’s dark beyond the red light flooding the cracked windows.

Barbara and Carol have disappeared. He grasps onto the tether in his chest and yanks, hoping against hell that it pulls him back to Will. Back to Eddie. Nothing happens.

He keeps his breaths even and closes his eyes, hoping once he opens them, he’ll be back. He opens his eyes.

It doesn’t work.

Everything’s still red, until it’s not. It’s like something vast has steped in front of what passes for a sun in this place. There’s streaks of red like blood painting the walls and carpet, stripes of shadows interspersed, growing thicker and thicker, like whatever is out there is coming closer.

Steve looks up at the window, horrified. He can’t look away from the window. Just sits there and waits for that thing to come get home. Waits for Eddie to come save him. He can’t look away.

That’s why he doesn’t notice the vine until it’s crawling up his ankle and yanks. He hits the carpet, hard.

“Steve?” Barbara asks. She’s crouched beside him, looking worried as Carol laughs, still in her seat. “Are you okay?”

Steve smiles up at Barbara. “Sorry, must have dozed off.”

She furrows her brows, clearly disbelieving as she asks, “are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine!” he says, sitting up painfully from the carpet. He doesn’t look back at Barbara’s expression, but he can feel her pointed glare. “Fine, I twinged my shoulder a bit.”

“The bad one?” she demands, already pulling his sweatshirt off his shoulder to take a look.

That gets Carol’s attention. “You have a bad one?” she asks, sliding out of her chair to sit by him on the floor. He can tell the moment his injury is uncovered by the way her eyes widen. It’s mostly scar now, red and jagged and puckered around the edges. It’s all edge. “What the fuck?”

Barbara examines the wound, as if she even knows what to look for. She hasn’t ever seen it. In the hospital it’d been bandaged, and now he keeps it covered religiously. “I think it’s okay?” she says, like she’s asking him. He nods.

“Okay?” Carol demands. “What the fuck happened?”

Steve closes his eyes, suddenly exhausted. From the questions and the walking nighmare he keeps slipping into. “Can we not?” he asks, voice small.

There’s silence. Steve digs his head into the ground and doesn’t analyze it. “Okay,” Carol says quietly.

They settle back into their respective seats, and each pretend to focus as their designated study session time finishes quietly if unproductively. When the hour ticks over, Steve shoves his papers halfhazardly into his backpack, relieved to get out of there.

Carol and Barbara trail him through the hallways like escorts, but leave him two hallways down at the entrance to the drama room with barely a wave. Steve watches them walk away; their retreating backs look odd together, but people probably say the same thing about Steve and Eddie.

When he walks in, Eddie’s packing up his stuff while the Hellfire boys shout at each other. When the door slips shut with a click, Eddie’s head snaps up, eyes shining brightly. They dim a little when he sees how tired Steve looks, but he still calls, “Stevie!” excitedly.

Steve comes in, dropping down on the chair beside Eddie’s to wait, too tired to keep standing.

“You’ve gotta help us out, buddy,” Doug says, dropping awkwardly to his knees beside Steve, prostrating himself. “Eddie’s had to have told you something, right?”

Eddie scoffs, “you know I don’t DM and tell!” he says, like a liar. Both Uncle Wayne and Steve have been subjected to many a planning session is Eddie works out the kinks to his latest campaign.

“Sorry, Doug,” he says, patting the other boys head. “I don’t know shit.”

Doug groans, levering himself off the floor and dropping into the seat next to Steve with a mumbled curse and a pout.

“You should join then,” Jeff says, smirking over his head toward Eddie. “No way would Eddie kill you off.”

When Steve glances over, Eddie’s cutting his hand over his throat in a slashing motion he turns into the world’s most awkward wave when he catches Steve looking at him.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Steve replies, grimacing. “Bad enough I have to play with those butt munches.”

“Butt munches?” Gareth asks, arms crossed as he scowls over at Steve.

“You know, they’re about yay high.” Steve holds his hand up insultingly low to the ground. He smiles, can almost hear Dustin’s protest in his ear. “Won’t leave me alone for some goddamn reason.”

Doug, Gareth, and Jeff all trade glances Steve’s too tired to even try to interpret. “Freak,” Gareth says, nodding like they’d all agreed on something. Steve would be insulted, but he says it the same way Eddie does; like it’s the highest compliment he could bestow upon anyone.

The other two nod their agreements while Eddie groans and Steve looks between them bemusedly before looking at Eddie for an answer.

Eddie clears his throat uncomfortably, looks down at the wrist that doesn’t have his watch and says, “oh, look at the time!” he throws his arms in the air, yawning theatrically despite it barely being seven at night. “Time to go, Stevie!”

Steve squints up at him, befuddled. “Freak,” he says, sharing nods with the other three. Doug nods like this is serious business, but Jeff and Gareth bite their lips against a laugh as Eddie groans.

“I never should have introduced you,” he says forlornly, grabbing his stuff and linking his arm with Steve’s to lead him away.

Yeah, it’s been a good day.

Part 51

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show

[lovebugism]

Spoooooky request, what if the gang went to a haunted house and everyone made fun of reader for being scared, but Steve holds her hand and walks with her 👻

thanks for requesting angel! i switched it up a bit and did a sort of second part to this fic! you def don't have to read it but it'll give some context :D — you're still getting used to the world post-vecna, but it's easier with steve holding your hand

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The haunted house off Fifth Street looks strangely familiar. Two stories, faded cornflower paint job, boarded up windows. It looks like a dollhouse from hell. It looks like the goddamn Creel House. It’s like some kind of sick joke.

It didn’t take Hawkins very long to recover from last spring. Mostly because it was just an earthquake to everyone else. No one died, nothing was ruined beyond repair. To the rest of the town, it was just a minor natural disaster — an inconvenience more than anything.

No one knows that a thirteen-year-old girl killed the monster trying to end the world. No one knows that the local freak nearly died saving a bunch of teenagers. No one knows that one song, one heavy metal guitar, and one good memory just narrowly saved your life. 

It’s secrets all of you are gonna have to keep for the rest of your lives. It weighs you down accordingly.

“Am I crazy, or is that…?” Robin trails off, freckled chin tilted towards the velvet blue sky as she gapes at the artificially rotted house. It glows a sickly green color on the outside. The windows light up red every now and then, in time with the screams echoing from the upper story.

“Yeah,” Nancy answers, breathless and equally dumbfounded. “I think it is.”

A beat of silence falls over the group of you. It doesn’t feel so heavy with the surrounding chatter. The crowd continues to bustle around you on the street, falling over themselves with laughter and lingering fright. They have no idea the ghost story they grew up with nearly destroyed the world.

The bitter realization makes your chest ache. Steve seemingly understands this and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You wonder if he can feel the way you tremble.

Eddie scoffs a cynical laugh from the other side of you. A pink, sadistic grin tugs at his lips, almost as wild as his curls billowing in the autumn breeze. “It’s basically kismet then, huh?”

Steve shoots the boy a half-hearted glare, then deflates because he realizes he can’t really be mad about it. Those damn demobats might’ve taken a pound of flesh from his stomach, but it’s nowhere near the feast they made out of Munson.

“C’mon on, dude,” he murmurs quietly with a subtle nod down at you.

“What?” Eddie snorts. “If I don’t laugh bout it, I’ll start crying, so… Take your pick, man.”

Steve wants to tell him that there’s no shame in crying. That he’s done it plenty of times since the fall of ’84. He’s cried for you, for himself, for the kids who will never get to be kids again. He figures it’s better than letting it all build up until you damn near explode. 

But now’s probably not the best time for that talk. Or any time, really. He’ll get you to get all serious and sappy with Eddie about that another time, just like you did for him.

“I’m gonna, uh— I’m gonna go get the tickets,” Jonathan murmurs with his usual Byers mumblings. 

He wasn’t around for the whole Vecna ordeal — just the weird shit in California and the secret lair thing in Nevada. He feels like he can be a bit braver about the whole thing for the four of you.

Nancy brushes a kiss to the boy’s cheek before he leaves. She does that a lot now, with Jonathan and all the rest of you. She always feels like she needs to say a proper goodbye and I love you whenever someone leaves. Just in case the world decides to end again.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Steve mutters to you, gaze twinkling with sincerity but stern still. “You know that, right?”

He knows that you know, but he feels the need to say it anyway. Mostly because he knows you were already scared of most things before everything went to shit. You’ve always been delicate, tender, like an open wound. Now, you can’t step outside without shaking. You’re always shuddering with the distant fear that the curse might return and no one will be there to save you.

Steve knows this, too. That’s why he holds so ardently to your trembling hand. It’s a silent reminder that he’s there, that he won’t let anything happen to you again, that he’ll always be around to save you when you need him.

“Oh, my god,” Robin groans, eyes wide and head tilted back. “Leave her alone, Steve! She’s fine!”

You know she’s just trying to be supportive. She thinks Steve’s coddling you because you’re quiet — that he’s sticking up for you because he thinks you can’t stick up for yourself. 

He is. And you can’t. But still, she’s only trying to help.

Steve looks to his left to glare at her. They seem to communicate telepathically for a moment. His eyes soften again when he turns back to you. His deep cinnamon gaze swims with a honeyed concern, a silent “Are you fine?”

You nod. “I’m okay,” you tell him, mustering a soft smile that wavers at the edges.

He doesn’t believe you, not completely, but he doesn’t press it any further.

Jonathan returns with the ticket stubs. They’re black and blood red. You take the one he gives you with hesitant, clammy hands. He seems to notice how terrified you are without you having to say a single goddamn word.

“I’m not a huge fan of these things either,” he confesses with a thin-lipped smile. A light-hearted way of telling you that you’re not alone in the fear you keep hidden (very poorly hidden, you figure).

You smile back at him, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. 

Your fingers fidget with the paper stub — maybe a distraction for yourself or maybe to hide how you’re too anxious to stay still. Steve figures it’s a bit of both. ‘Cause he knows you too well and not a thing gets by him. There’s nothing about you that he doesn’t notice.

He turns to face you completely while everyone else gets their ticket. He keeps his wedged between his middle and forefinger as his hands curl around the outsides of your elbows. He’s serious, but still soft — gentle, but still firm. 

“Babe—”

“Stevie,” you interject with a similar tone. “I’m okay.”

“You heard her, Stevie. She’s fine!” Robin retorts, curling her maroon-tinted lips into a smirk. She scoffs out a laugh and gestures up to the fake haunt across the street. “This shit is basically for kids. No one’s dying here, alright?”

You know what she’s doing. She’s sticking up for you and taking the piss out of her best friend at the same time. It’s nothing new — hell, it’s her favorite hobby. She’s got your back now the same way she had it in that house last spring. 

But still, her words sting a little.

Because she’s right. This place is for kids. And you still feel a bit like you’re dying.

Steve knows this, too. He knows everything about you. Even the stuff you wish he didn’t.

His sneakers scuff against the pavement when he turns to Robin. His eyes narrow in a challenging squint as he crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t look quite as intimidating as usual in his fluffy, cable-knit sweater. 

“Well, you know what? I’m scared, actually. I don’t wanna do it, okay? You got me, Rob.”

The girl grins something cynical. She shakes her head all slow, like she’s just caught him in some kind of lie. “I knew it. You little baby.”

Steve lets her tease him. It’s not like he isn’t used to it by now. He just rolls his eyes and bears it, lets her laugh about it with the rest of the group as they head towards the haunted house. 

You watch with an attentive gaze while they head inside, flinching softly when you hear a thunderous boom and the sound of their screaming a second later. It leaves you secretly grateful that you hadn’t gone in behind them. 

A wavering sigh tumbles from your lips, a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Steve exhales a gentle laugh from beside you. He smooths a wide palm up your spine and down again. He leans over to press the side of his hip against yours.

You cross your arms over your chest to make yourself as small as possible while you glance over at the boy beside you. You look at him so far beneath your lashes you’re basically peering at him from the corner of your eye.

“Thank you,” is all you say. It’s all you need to say.

Steve shrugs with a plush, crooked grin. “’S okay. I know you’re too sweet to say no, so…”

“I wanted to do it,” you confess, clearing your throat when your voice breaks.

“I know.”

“I guess I’m not… as used to everything as I thought.”

“I know,” Steve repeats. His hand curls around your waist and makes a home in the very center of it. He pulls you closer with the urge to melt into you. His brows raise, eyes sparkling when his smile widens. “But that’s why I’m here, though, right? We’re gonna get better together.”

You nod up at him, smiling more sincerely now. 

Arms still crossed, your hands ball into fists to fight the urge to smooth a hand through his hair — to push back the rogue chestnut strands hanging over his forehead.

You hesitate, so he beats you to the draw. He swipes a golden hand over his head right before he leans down to kiss you. 

He smacks a sweet peck to your smile. A bright light flashes with another thunderous boom a moment later. You flinch and pull back. You swear you hear Eddie screaming, “jesus fucking christ!” from the upper story. You forget to be scared.

You didn’t think it was possible. The whole getting better thing.

Steve makes you feel like could be.

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.

Chapter 1

Warnings: swearing, angst

After a rough nites sleep, Y/N woke at 6am and took a shower before heading to the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. There was a team meeting at 8am and she knew she needed caffeine to get through it.

She was sitting at the table with her coffee and a bagel when Steve and Sam came in followed by Bucky. She greeted them with a quiet good morning which had Sam pulling her out of her seat for a hug, winking at Bucky who rolled his eyes. Sam's friendship with Y/N had always irritated him and he just knew Sam was going to do everything he could to exacerbate the tension.

"Radar! How you been, baby girl? I'm surprised to see you back here, tired of Madripoor?" Sam laughed as he squeezed her.

Y/N shrugged "Are we really sticking with this Radar thing? I mean I love MASH but just because you're so predictable, Sammy, doesn't mean I'm psychic." She teased "There's too much going in Madripoor to get bored, I'm just doing an old friend a favor but don't plan to be here too long."

"Thank God for small favors." Bucky spat

She felt her stomach drop at his tone but just smirked at Bucky "Just keep your shit together so I can train you a new assistant and get the fuck outta here."

Sam laughed "I have missed you!"

Steve was more reserved, worried about how Bucky was going to deal with this new dynamic "Nice to see you again, Y/N" he gave her a small smile and nod.

Radar grinned "Same to you, Rogers."

Wanda and Nat wandered in chatting with Bruce trailing behind them. Nat stopped dead and put her arm out to stop Wanda "Is that who I think it is? Y/N? You're back?" She tried to temper the excitement over seeing her friend here in the compound after 2 years while picking up on the anger radiating from Bucky. She went to hug her friend "I didn't think I'd ever see you here again. Not that I minded our girl time in Madripoor."

Radar smiled, hugging her and Wanda at the same time "It's good to see you ladies. It's been 6 months since our last get together we'll have to tear up Manhattan when we can schedule it."

She smiled at Bruce and he hugged her "Glad you're back Radar, we've missed you."

A voice came from the hall "I hope you aren't planning a girls nite without me. I missed the last trip." Maria Hill walked into the kitchen and went to give Radar a hug.

Steve and Bucky were staring at the women, slack jawed until Steve spoke up "So you girls have been getting together regularly? How is this the first I'm hearing of this?"

Radar chuckled "Well geez Cap, it's girl time and you aren't invited so why would anyone tell you? Besides there's all kinds of drinking and swearing and general mischief making. Really not your type of party."

Bucky scoffed, glaring at Radar "So Nat, you and Wanda have been getting together with her, even after she- after what she did?" he shook his head "some friends you are." and stomped down the hall.

Radar shook her head and whispered under her breath "Yeah, what I did to him. Pffft."

Nat rubbed her back "You going to be ok working with him again?"

Radar smiled sadly "Yeah, as soon as I get his shit in order, I'll work to find and train my replacement. Then it's back to exciting Madripoor and the Power Brokers trail."

Nat hummed as she considered whether she should say what she was thinking and decided to push ahead "You could try to talk to him, tell him the truth about what happened."

Radar chuckled humorlessly "Right, he's obviously totally open to talking to me, thats why he says something nasty every time we're in the same room. He's no more interested in my side of the story than he was the day it happened. Sorry, Nat, sometimes you can't go home."

Steve poured himself a cup of coffee, wondering what they were talking about before switching to captain mode. "Meeting starts in 30, make sure you're all there on time."

Radar smiled "Don't worry Cap, we're on our way."

The ladies chatted for a few more minutes before heading to the conference room. They all sat together with Radar between Nat and Wanda while Bruce sat next to Nat and Vision walked in with Tony then sat next to Wanda.

Clint was behind them and smiled when he saw her "Radar! Welcome home." He patted her on the shoulder.

Radar looked at her friends on either side of her and smiled sadly at their happiness. She was thrilled they both found good partners but seeing them like that made her so lonely. She'd had no romantic interest since she left the compound. It felt like that part of her heart was broken beyond repair. There had been a couple of flings, a girl has needs, but nothing more than one night.

She had truly believed that Bucky was it and after everything still loved him, even if they couldn't be together.

Sam, Wanda and Nat had kept her up on the team gossip and while learning of Bucky's many women felt like a shot to the chest, she knew that was him acting out and would still do whatever she could to help him. He had worked so hard to make up for what Hydra made him do and his reputation had been trending upward but this last mission and the incident with the photographer made the public and the team's benefactors question him being there.

Radar took a deep breath to calm her mind, reminding herself that she would get him back on the right track, then go back to the wilds of Madripoor and probably never see him again. The thought of that hurt but she shook it off, that's how it had to be.

She jumped when she heard her name.

"Radar! I can't believe it's really you, never thought you'd come back." Nick Fury shouted with a grin on his face.

She smiled "Good to see you too, Nick. Enjoy me while you can because I'm just here to clean up a mess and train the next guy."

Nick chuckled "We'll just have to see if we can find a way to make you move back home permanently."

Radar smile at him sadly, why did everyone but him have to bring up keeping her here. "I don't think that's a good idea but I'm flattered you want me around."

Bucky and Steve walked into the room and Bucky scoffed "If she stays I'm fucking leaving. I'd rather give up my pardon and live the rest of my life on the Raft than anywhere near her."

Radar sighed "Yes Barnes, we get it. You hate me and wish I were dead. If you insist on reminding me every time we're in the same room together, I'll be convinced that you're still obsessed with me." she winked at him.

Bucky was sure steam must be coming out of his ears, she had a lot of nerve fucking with him like that "If you-"

Fury interrupted "Flirt on your own time, Barnes. This isn't speed dating, we have business to take care of."

Bucky sputtered and went to say something but Tony spoke up and interrupted him, not that he had any coherent thoughts to voice so he sat back, glaring at Y/N.

"Now that we're all here. The first order of business is notifying all of you that Radar has returned to help Barnes get organized and train her replacement. Once that's done, we need some excuse to convince her to stay."

Bucky groaned "please, god, no."

Radar shook her head "Don't get yourself in a tizzy Barnes. I told you, that's not happening." She looked at Tony "I told you that I'm leaving once I've trained a competent replacement. I can't stay here permanently and you know that. You all need to let that go cuz it's not happening."

Bucky sighed, relieved that she wasn't planning to stay. He didn't know if he could deal with seeing her all the time so he promised himself he would do everything in his power to speed things along. But somewhere, deep in his subconscious he dreaded the thought of her leaving again. And maybe never seeing her again. He still loved her desperately, the countless women he had gone through in the last 2 years gave him no peace, none of them felt or smelled or sounded like her and he was terrified that he would give in and beg her to take him back if she stayed too long. He was also terrified that he wouldn't and she would get away from him, again.

Bucky badly wanted to touch her, kiss and hold her, make love to her for hours like he used to. He could smell her vanilla body spray, the citrus shampoo & conditioner and the musk that was distinctly her. He could feel his body responding to being in close quarters with her again and was grateful for the table to hide his, ahem reactions.

Thankfully, Nick Fury spoke up "On to business. There's a facility in Belarus that was believed to be abandoned but is showing signs of activity. I need 2 people for recon. Any volunteers?"

Bucky raised his hand "I'm in if I can get out of here while....." he trailed off.

Radar kept her face emotionless. She was starting to think this was a mistake. As if the glares and cold demeanor weren't enough he had to make a crack every chance he had.

Just being near him was torture. She felt an empty ache in her chest and her eyes filled with tears but she refused to let them fall. She swallowed a sob down and whispered in a sing song voice "Obseeesed"

Bucky growled and she felt her panties dampen. His nostrils flared and he sat back in his seat, a death grip on the arms, before he took her on the conference table in front of the whole team.

Sam volunteered to go with him and Bucky groaned, he was almost as difficult to be around as Y/N.

Fury nodded and handed packets to both men "There we go, that wasn't so difficult. Since Sam's assistant isn't here, Radar will prep everything you need and be in the quinjet and in your ears when you go in. I suggest the three of you get some sleep, wheels up at 9 tonight"

Bucky shook his head "What do you mean she'll be in the jet? Starks tech is good enough that she can do it from here. Goddammit I want to be wherever she isn't so send someone else."

Fury glared at him "For a man who's over 100 years old you are acting like a fucking child, Barnes. Grow the fuck up and act like the professional you are supposed to be."

Nick's face turned up into a devious grin "You do realize that if you don't go, she doesn't either right? She's your assistant, your angel. If you had hired assistants without prioritizing their fuckability, you wouldn't be here. It's already decided. Go hit your rack while you can."

Sam chuckled as he left the room "You just can't win Terminator. Maybe the universe wants you crazy kids together."

Bucky sighed, no point in complaining any more. A mission with the two people he would least like to be around. Hopefully the intel was right and it would be a quick in and out. He went to his room to stretch out, knowing that sleep was unlikely.

Steve caught up with him in the hall "I'm just giving you some information and what you do with it is up to you." He lowered his voice "I heard Nat trying to convince Y/N to talk to you, she said something about telling you the truth about what happened that day. Maybe you should hear her out, listen to her side."

Bucky shook his head "What side? There's no side that makes what she did ok so there's not much point. I just want to get through this so she goes on her way."

Steve shook his head "Fine punk, it's your life."

Radar went to the armory to put Sam and Bucky's gear and weapons together and loaded up the quinjet before heading to her room for a couple of hours of sleep, if she could manage that much. She prayed to whatever gods were out there that this mission would be easy and fast.

Chapter 2

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Unplanned Chapter Four

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person written though)

Description:

"It says...it says it's positive doll" His voice matching mine in a quiet shaky whisper.

"Fuck... I'm pregnant?"

"Yeah doll, you're pregnant"

"Fuck" I whisper.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Swearing

Chapter Words: 1,192

(I have the urge for every Marvel fanfic I write to have a seperate timeline where nothing bad happens, and everyone is happy)

I leave the lab and make my way back to the kitchen, it was close to lunch now, the kitchen was fuller than it was before, Bucky and Steve were still in here. But now Wanda, Vision, Sam, Nat and Peter were in here. I grinned when I sat Nat, I walked over to her, sitting next to her at the dining table, resting my head on her shoulder. 

"How did telling Tony go?" Steve asks first. 

"They were happy for me, Bucks, did you tell anyone in here?" I ask, feeling a little tired, I saw everyone look at me confused, their eyes darting between Bucky and myself. Bucky shakes his head, his eyes no leaving mine. 

"No doll, I didn't tell anyone, I figured I'd let you handle that" 

"Thanks" I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. I watch as Bucky shoots me a glare. 

"Guys, I'm pregnant and it's Bucky's" I say quickly, I watch Nat's reaction, she looks at me confused, a little hurt in her eyes, probably that I had kept her in the dark about all of this. A collective gasp travels through the room, I stay quiet watching everyone's reaction with a smirk on my lips. After a few moments of stunned silence, Wanda was the first to speak. 

"Congratulations" She grins widely at me. 

"Are you happy?" Nat asks, I look at her, and nod. I give her a sad, sorry look until she hugs me. "Congrats girlie" 

I smile softly as she hugs me, knowing I was off the hook. 

"Wait, you and Bucky...how did that happen?" Peter asks, I pull away from the hug and look at him with a sly grin. 

"Aw Petey, have you not been given the talk yet?" I ask, playfully, I watch as Peter blushes. 

"Hey! I know how babies are made! I just...never thought you and Bucky..I mean, the two of you don't even like each other" He rambles, his voice stuttery. I giggle, my body feeling a little tired, but I then tell everyone the same story we told Steve, they listened intently, there were a few chuckles and looks of disbelief as I describe mine and Bucky's initial arguments, our secret encounters and finally finding out we were pregnant. 

"Cool, is that everyone filled in?" I ask. There's a chorus of nods and murmurs of affirmation. 

"Good, fuck I want coffee" I say as nearly everyone in the room had a mug in front of them, I could smell the coffee, and it smelled amazing. It smelt warm and smooth, it made my stomach growl in need. 

"Oh doll, you'll survive without caffeine for a few months" Bucky smirks at me. I roll my eyes shooting a glare towards him. 

"Says you, I think you shouldn't drink caffeine because I can't" I say, standing up walking to where he was standing. I watched as Bucky looked up at me from his seat, his eyes rolling at me. 

"Oh that's real fair doll, punish me just because you can't have caffeine" 

"I'm being punished for having sex with you" I whine. I watch as Bucky's eyes widen, surprised at my blunt comment, he was through and through a man of his time, talking about sex made him uncomfortable, I loved it. I heard Steve cough slightly. Luckily Nat was smirking, as was I. 

"You really don't hold back, do you doll?" Bucky asks quietly. 

"Whatever, I'm going for a nap" I say, looking at Bucky suggestively. 

"Alright doll, go get some rest" He answers me, smiling softly at me. 

"You not coming?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at him. His eyes widen slightly, his cheeks slightly flushing, he shoots me a warning glare, well aware of the fact that everyone was watching us. 

"No doll, you go rest" 

"Bucky, I was hinting if you wanted to have sex" I say annoyed, we hadn't slept together since a week before finding out I was pregnant, I needed it. His eyes widen even more, if that were possible. Shock crosses his face for a moment before he remains his composure, trying to regain his usual stoicism. He clears his throat and looks at me, a mixture of surprise and irritation. 

"Doll, not in front of everyone! Seriously have some tact" He whispers, his voice stern as he glares at me. I roll my eyes and huff.

"Ugh, whatever Barnes" I snap and storm out of the room. I walked through the compound annoyed, a little bit annoyed at Bucky, but mostly I couldn't understand why I was so angry, I blamed it on the pregnancy, I'd have to get some books, try to understand it more. 

Once I reached my room, I huffed and laid on my bed, feeling less annoyed as my head hit the pillow. A few minutes passed and I heard a little knock on my door. 

"Doll? Can I come in?" Bucky's voice traveled through the door. 

"No, piss off" I answer. 

"Come on doll, I wanna talk" He speaks again, I don't answer, he doesn't speak for a few moments, and adds in a quieter tone "Please?"

"Ugh fine" I groan, not moving from my position. I watch as my bedroom door opens, he stalks in, and walks in, moving to sit on the edge of my bed, he looks at me still slightly annoyed. 

"Doll...you can't just..say things like that in front of everyone" He says, I felt like I was being told off, it pissed me off more. 

"I didn't, that's why I was hinting" I smirked. I watched as his face show more annoyance, he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to maintain his composure. 

"You know what I mean, and so did everyone else!" Bucky answers. 

"It's not exactly a secret we had sex Bucks" I say, laughing quietly. Bucky groans, he knows I'm right, he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. 

"I know doll, but there's a difference between people knowing we've slept together and you practically announcing it to everyone in the room" He explains, his cheeks flushed. 

"Fuck..fine, I won't ask if you want to have sex anymore" I snapped. I watch as he rolls his eyes, I could sense a hint of amusement in his eyes along with the annoyance. 

"I didn't say that doll, just don't be so...blatant and vulgar in front of everyone?" He suggests, I roll my eyes and snuggle further into my bed. 

"Whatever Barnes, let me nap" 

He shakes his head slightly, a slight smirk on his lips. 

"Alright doll, you sleep" 

"Could join me... if you want" I say quietly. 

"Might as well" He whispers, I grin and lift the duvet allowing him to crawl into the bed, he wraps his arm around me, pulling me in close, I fit perfectly against his body, his arm brushes against my nipples as he gets comfortable. 

"Ooo, careful of my boobs, they're sensitive" I mumble, snuggling into him. 

"I'll be careful" He chuckles, his voice a low rumble against my skin, I watch as his eyes glance down to my chest, a hint of a smirk on his lips. 

(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself)

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy @jaybbygrl @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @learisa @hi172826 @ravennablue @purplecolordeer @a-small-blue-nebula

[queen-of-the-avengers]

It's Looking Up From Here

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: relationship angst, fluff, implied smut

Summary: You and Gio grow closer over your shared interest in fashion and create something beautiful that only you can pull off. He invites you to a party this weekend but Bucky has bigger and better plans you can't resist.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: "tell me" (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

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

x

Then

Bucky was very secretive when it came to most of the things in his life. He trusted you enough to let you sleep over in his house but didn’t trust you enough to keep all the doors unlocked. You just wanted to know everything you could about Bucky since he didn’t share a lot with you. He’d always been with you whenever you went exploring his house but he was still in bed. This was your opportunity to look before he caught you.

Bucky’s mansion is huge with more rooms than he used. There was an entire wing of the house that no one used but he still kept this house as if he needed every room. Bucky didn’t keep a lot of stuff on the wall because he claimed that the pictures he wanted to look at were either in his wallet or on his phone.

All of them were of you.

Bucky’s mansion had a personal gym, two movie theater rooms, a bowling alley, two game rooms, a shooting range, two bars, over a dozen bedrooms and bathrooms, a spa, a huge indoor pool, and a multi-story car garage. You were still not sure how that even worked and you’ve seen him use cars that were on the second story. Sam and Steve had rooms here since he trusted them more than his other men but you hadn’t seen them in a while.

What kind of job does Bucky do that requires him to have a boatload of men with guns? Maybe you knew the answer and didn’t want to face it. You didn’t want to think of Bucky other than the sweet man you loved.

Since you knew of almost every room in his house, you head to the one place he kept under lock and key. Of course, his office door is locked when you get there. He told you never to go in here but why? Bucky’s maid walked out of the room next to his office, scaring you. You knew he had a chef and a maid that lived in the house but you didn’t expect her to be up this early.

“Sorry, you scared me,” you chuckled. She rolled her cart past his office and continued to the next room. “Aren’t you going to go in there?”

“Mr. Barnes doesn’t want anyone going in there but him.”

Now you were more confused than ever. You grabbed the door handle and tried again as if the door would be magically unlocked from the last time you tried it. Why didn't he want anyone in there? What was really in there? What was he hiding? You stood on your tiptoes and felt along the rim of the door. Maybe he kept a key there even though it was unlikely.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped at hearing his voice and you turned to face him. There was no point in trying to hide it. You were caught red-handed.

“Nothing,” you said sheepishly.

“Were you trying to get into my office?”

You dropped the innocent facade with an eye roll.

“I’m sorry, Bucky, but I’m curious. You don’t let anyone in there.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason why,” he glared.

“So, what’s the reason? What do you have in there?”

“Nothing. It’s just an office.”

“Tell me, if it’s just an office, why can’t I go in there? Why do you keep the door locked?”

“I let you have free reign in this entire house. Why can’t you let this one go?” he sighed in frustration.

You’ve always wanted things you couldn’t have.

“If it’s not a big deal, why can’t I go inside? What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.” You kept asking questions that pissed him off but he wasn’t going to yell in your face. Until you kept pushing the issue, and he exploded. “I said it’s nothing, Y/N! I don’t want you going in there!” You jumped from the sudden explosion and immediately hurt that he’d yell at you. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want people in there. I’m very private.”

“Okay,” you said in a hollow voice.

“I’m sorry for yelling. I’m just stressed at work.”

“And what is it that you do? You keep that a secret, too?”

“I really don’t want to get into this right now.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “what did I expect? A mature conversation? No, you go off running away every time I bring up your job that you don’t want me to know about.”

Bucky’s fists clenched but he didn’t move them from his side.

“Y/N…”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not like this is a relationship or anything,” you scoffed and walked back to your room.

Now

You and Gio put the finishing touches on the dress you two are making for class. The dress is light pink and goes all the way down to your feet. If you’re not wearing some kind of heel, the dress will drag. The top is elegant where the silky fabric crosses over each other over the breasts. It’s spaghetti straps but a line of fabric drapes from the front to the back giving the false look of flowy sleeves.

“Damn, you’re good at this,” Gio smiles.

“We’re good at this,” you correct.

“Alright, you should be putting the finishing touches on your projects,” your professor announces. “I’ll need one person from each group to try on the project and show the class.”

“So, who is going to put this on?” you ask Gio.

“I think this was made for you.”

“I don’t know, I’d like to see you wear this,” you joke.

You and seven other people take their projects and leave the room to try on what they made. You’re the first one back so you walk into the classroom with a shy smile. Gio stares at you with parted lips like he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. The dress fits you like it was made for your body. When designing it, you might have put your own size into it. If your professor would let you, you’d love to take this home and show Bucky. You and Gio explain to the class the process of making the dress and why you chose the silky fabric. Afterward, you step down and let the next group go.

“You look beautiful,” Gio smiles once back at your desk.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“It was made for you. It fits really well.”

“I wish I could take it home.”

Before class is done, you change out of the dress and leave it for your professor to grade. You and Gio walk to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. Bucky will be pulling up to the meeting point since you have a half-day today but you figure he can wait while you have lunch with Gio. You two pay for lunch and find a spot to eat outside.

“So, a bunch of us are going to a party this weekend. My friend is in Delta Phi and is going to be throwing one of their legendary parties. I want you to go.”

“I’ve never been to a frat party before. It sounds like fun. Let me check my schedule and see if I have anything planned.”

You take out your planner and look at this weekend.

“You did a really good job on the dress.”

“You helped,” you smile.

“Nah, that was all you. You’re going to make a great fashion designer one day.”

“Thank you. I don’t have anything planned for this weekend. I’d love to go to a party.”

Gio is about to respond when he notices something behind you. His entire face hardens into something you think is hate. You look back and see Bucky and sigh knowing he is pissed you weren't there. He takes a seat next to you but doesn’t regard Gio at all.

“Where were you?”

“I’m having lunch with my friend. Bucky, this is Gio. Gio, this is Bucky.”

Bucky only grunts in Gio’s direction. He’s never been a people person much less with men you know

“Come on, I have a surprise waiting for you at home.”

“You’re dating him?” Gio asks in surprise.

“You say that like you know him.” You look at Bucky. “Do you know him?”

“I’ve never met you before.”

“Sorry,” Gio chuckles breathily, “I thought you were someone else.”

“I have to go. Thanks for lunch,” you smile and pack up.

“So, you’ll be at the party?”

“Yeah.”

You leave with Bucky but only until he is back in the car does he say something.

“What party?”

“He invited me to a frat party. I told him I’d go. It’s this weekend.”

“You know what’s at those college parties? Booze, sex, and drugs.”

“What, you think I can’t handle myself?” you ask and look at him.

“I know you can. It’s them I don’t trust.”

“Then why don’t you come with me?”

Bucky looks at you with a bitch face.

“Do I look like a frat boy?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes you act like one.” He laughs and shakes his head. When he gets home, he escorts you inside with a hand on the small of your back. “So, what’s this surprise?”

Bucky steps away from you and walks over to four suitcases by the stairs.

“We’re going to Italy.” You gasp in shock. “Awh, looks like you won’t be going to that little party after all.”

“What about school?”

“I worked out a deal with your teachers so you can do it online.”

“I’ve never been to Italy before,” you grin.

“So, would you trade fine dining, luxury, and me for frat boys, drinking, and beer pong?”

You walk up to Bucky and put one hand on his shoulder and the other on the side of his face.

“You. I choose you.”

He grabs you by your hips and kisses you desperately. He picks you up by your thighs and you wrap your legs around his waist.

“We leave in the morning.”

You giggle when his stubble touches your neck but moan when his lips start kissing you there.

x

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