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saquesha13 · 4 months ago

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!!Tattoo artist Eddie!!

Steve never imagined himself as a tattoo kind of guy. But back in ‘85 after the mall fire, he ended up getting a small matching tattoo with Robin. Just a simple little ice cream cone on his inner wrist - Robin’s idea really. Something about almost burning to death together in a fire really seemed fitting for matching permeant ink on their skin.

It opened Steve’s eyes, changed his perspective, widened his horizons if you will on the whole idea of a tattoo.

Even just a dumb ass ice cream cone that bystanders see on his wrist, that they probably assume means jack shit but in reality it means the whole world to Steve - is pretty fucking cool.

So, Steve hears about this really talented tattoo artist in Chicago and knew he wanted this guy to do his next piece.

The shop is smaller than Steve expected, smack dead in the center of the city and Steve arrived 30 minuets early to his appointment because he was pretty damn nervous.

This tattoo is not as… innocent as his matching ice cream cone with Robbie’s. It isn’t as meaningful either…

Well, okay, it still has meaning, but only to Steve. He isn’t the kind of guy to get a tattoo just because. Tattoos are expensive first of all, and he doesn’t want his entire body covered in ink. That just isn’t his style. But a peek of a tattoo here and there? Yeah, that’s not bad, that what El would call bitchin’.

“Steve? Eddie is ready for you.” The petite blonde at the front desk smiled, her warm bubbly aurora feeling so oddly displaced in a shop like this, so far from what Steve was expecting.

“Ah, okay, thanks uh…”

“Chrissy.” She brushed her bangs out of her eyes before pushing back the black beaded curtain leading to the back room.

“Thank you, Chrissy.” Steve hoped this girl couldn’t see just now nervous he was as he ducked between the beads. He was just starting to let his eyes roam around the gothic decor of the room when the hottest fucking man Steve has ever seen walks in, taking thick chunky rings off his pale fingers and putting them in the pocket of his skin tight black jeans.

Once his rings are safely put away, he tugs the thick dark curls off of his shoulders and tied it up on his head in a knot, some strands poke out framing his face.

“Steve, right?” The sexy man speaks, apparently. His deep voice sounded like honey and pure bliss to Steve’s hears. A smile stretches across his lips making the dimples - of fucking course he has dimples - poke out on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Steve apparently broke at the sight of this man, because seriously who the hell does this guy think he is coming in looking like THAT?! His voice cracked when he tried to speak making his cheeks turn rosey shade of pink and he had to clear his throat before properly speaking.

“U-Uh, yeah, me is Steve. I-I mean, I am Steve.” He would smack his own forehead with his hand if Eddie wasn’t busy holding it, giving him a nice firm handshake. Steve’s face was burning.

Scratch smacking face, Steve wishes he could just bash his head in on the brick decorative wall in the corner. Put him out of his misery. He’s doing a mighty fine job at humiliating himself already.

“This your first time?” Eddie smirked, his voice somehow dropping lower than it was before.

“Huh?” Steve blinked, clearly confused, no lights on in his brain as his eyes darted between Eddie’s huge brown eyes to the tattoo peaking out under the v-neck of his black long sleeve shirt. God he wished he could see what that tattoo actually was, maybe lick it.

“Your first time getting a tattoo.” Eddie clarified, the smirk never leaving his face as he finally let go of Steve’s sweaty palm.

“Oh, no actually. I’ve had - “ Steve cleared his throat again, trying his dammed hardest to chill the fuck down. “Had got another tattoo before this one.”

“So, you’re not a virgin then?” Eddie winked as he slid on his rubber gloves, covering up the black inked tattoos on his broad hands that Steve suddenly wished he looked at before they were gone from his sight. Then he realized what Eddie just said and his head snapped up to the playful look on Eddie’s face.

Shit. Is Eddie actually flirting with him? Is this how Eddie speaks to all of his clients? Or has Steve finally lost his marbles?

“Nope, defiantly not a virgin.” Steve watched Eddie’s movements closely as he finalized setting up his supplies, grabbing the stencil of Steve’s tattoo. “Not a virgin with tattoos either.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, something gleaming in his dark eyes that makes Steve’s levi’s suddenly feel a little too tight. The grin on Eddie’s face is down right sinful. “Well, Steve, as long as the sketch looks good to you and you are still good with the placement, we can get started.”

Steve leans over and looks down at Eddie’s sketch of what he had requested sitting in Eddie’s gloved hands. Just looking at the two words, at the way Eddie wrote the font knowing it was his work that will be forever on Steve’s body has Steve’s blush refusing to go away.

“Uh, cool. Okay. Yeah it looks good, really good.” Steve had to lean over Eddie’s shoulder to fully see the entire page, not that it was really necessary.

“Lay down on the bed, on your stomach.” Eddie gestured with his chin to the left, where the tattooing bed was. “Make sure you get those jeans off first,” Eddie huffed out a laugh as Steve was about to settle down on his belly, his face turning beat red in embarrassment feeling idiotic.

“You do want your ass tattooed still, right?” Eddie asked, his voice smug at the flustered look on Steve’s face.

“Well, yeah. Obviously. That is why I am here.” Steve scoffed, wondering why the hell he is blushing like a teenage girl in this sexy ass man’s presence. Usually Steve is the one making people blush, not the other way around.

“I don’t usually undress my clients… but I would for you.” Eddie nibbled on his bottom lip, making damn sure that Steve’s face stayed tomato red as Steve swore he saw Eddie look at him from head to toe.

He had to take a deep breath to get his damn body to cooperate downstairs before unbuttoning his jeans and tugging down his fly so he can scoot the denim and his grey briefs down over the curve of his ass leaving them just barley covering his junk in the front and staying on his legs.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything as he climbed on the bed on his stomach, not trusting his voice whatsoever as his eyes said more than enough, keeping them planted on Eddie’s.

“This good?” He rested his chin on his hands, his entire bare ass out in the open, wondering why the hell Jonathan Byers failed to mention how damn hot his favorite tattoo artist was.

Eddie for once seemed a little lost for words. He doesn’t stay in the room when his clients undress, it’s unprofessional. He never ever offers to take their clothes off for them either. But for some reason his feet stopped working the second Steve’s fingers went to unbutton his jeans.

“Absolutely perfect, pretty boy.” Eddie damn near purred, wondering how he lucked out, to be the one to tattoo this angels ass. Getting fucking payed to touch his ass. To tattoo the words Bite Me on his juicy round cheeks.

It isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo tattooing someone’s butt cheeks. He’s done almost every body part at this point in his tattooing career. But fuck, no client has ever affected him, not like this.

“Skins sensitive here.” Eddie licked his lips as he stepped close to the bed, wishing he wasn’t wearing gloves so he could really feel Steve as he ran his fingers over the exposed skin before putting the shaving cream along his ass, shaving the light colored peach fuzz right off his literal peach. “Need numbing cream, sweetheart?”

“No. Don’t need numbing cream. Wanna feel it.” Steve hummed, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. Steve’s red face has faded to pink, finally calming down a bit trying to sit still so he isn’t wiggling his ass in Eddie’s face - not that he thinks Eddie would really mind too much if he did.

Eddie muttered something under his breath, his hands stilling over his ass from where he was wiping the shaving cream away with surprisingly soft hands.

It’s funny, Steve came in set on only getting one tattoo. But as he laid here on the bed, the tattoo gun buzzing as the needles push against his ass, all he can think about is coming back, getting more ink on his body, all over his tan skin as an excuse to come back and see Eddie.

To come back and get Eddie’s hands on him.

But when his appointment was over - much sooner than Steve would have liked - turns out he didn’t need to come back here.

Because Eddie invited him to go home with him.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #steve and eddie #eddie the freak munson #king steve #steve the hair harrington #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fic idea #steddie fandom #tattoo artist eddie munson #steddie au #steddie idea

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ladykailitha · 5 months ago

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Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate Part 3

Here we are at the last chapter. Thank you for everyone who liked, commented and reblogged, especially those that left lovely comments in their tags.

This isn't the last we'll see of this universe, as the next one I want to do is Christmas. Steve talking to Jonathan about the camera and not just saying it was joint present from him and Nancy.

In this we have some people who just never learn, Eddie getting heart-eyes non-stop now, and the basketball game of the century.

Part 1 Part 2

Larry Wiggins learned nothing from getting decked in the face by Eddie Munson, Steve decided. He had been the worst of the “accidental” bullies.

If there was a massive collusion of some poor bastards, you could make a pretty safe bet that Larry was seen leaving the area. The teachers turned a blind eye to it because and he quotes, “You have no proof he’s doing anything wrong, besides as captain of the basketball team, he’s afforded a little grace because he’s under soooo much pressure.”

Steve was pretty sure he threw up a little in his mouth when he heard that from the principal, the vice principal, the basketball coach, and at least three other teachers despite him doing it right in front of them multiple times.

So just before the winter break it all came to a head and if Steve was honest, he wasn’t surprised when he saw the victim was one of Eddie’s own sheep.

Steve had really needed to pee in history class. It was horrible, but Mrs. Click adored him and let him go to the bathroom, then immediately turned around and told a girl that is she wasn’t on the rag, she had no need to use the bathroom until after class.

He felt bad about that one, because unlike students, Steve couldn’t do jack shit about the teachers. Not without losing whatever status he actually had.

He pushed open the doors to the boys’ bathroom and instantly sagged against the doorway. There cowering in the corner was one of Eddie’s freaks. He had curly brown hair and blue eyes, though one was shut from a reddening welt that no doubt would turn into a black eye later.

Then the bell rang and students came flooding out of their classes, just in time to see Steve dragging Larry out of the bathroom and throwing him against the lockers across from the bathroom.

Before anyone could protest Steve’s over-reaction, the little freshman came limping out of the bathroom.

“Gareth!” Eddie called out and Steve was distracted for a moment by the sound, let Larry out of his grasp.

But instead of taking off like what would have been the smart thing, Larry pushed Steve off of him.

“You would take the side of the little pervert, Harrington,” he sneered. “I caught this little freak checking under the bathroom stalls. No doubt he’s a fag looking for dick to ogle.”

Gareth opened his mouth to protest, but Steve held up his hand.

“Or, he could be,” Steve scoffed, “and get this, looking to make sure no one was in the stalls so he go into the one he wanted? Like a normal person?”

Eddie and Gareth both snorted at the ‘normal’ description, but wisely kept their mouths shut.

Larry rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. “You think you’re so hot, don’t you? You’re not even a senior but everyone around here walks around here kissing your ass and why? Because Daddy’s money. If you were as poor as these chucklefucks, the only kiss you’d be getting is mouth to mouth when someone finally put you down like the dog you are!”

Gareth threw back his head and laughed. Just started laughing and laughing, doubling over from the laughter, tears streaming down his face.

Larry raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck is his problem?”

“His dad owns three of this town’s car dealerships, dude,” Steve said raising both eyebrows. “Like he lives in Loch Nora.”

Larry’s eyes go wide. “What the fuck? Then why is he dressed like trailer trash?”

“Hey!” Eddie growled and moved to take a swing at the guy, but again Steve held up his hand.

“Dude is in designer jeans and high tops and you have to ask that?” he shook his head. “You really are stupid. How did you become captain of the basketball team again?”

Steve tapped his lip for a moment, his other hand on his hip. Then he snapped his fingers. “Oh, that’s right, you mom blew the coach!”

Larry lunged forward to take a swing at Steve but Tommy and one of the other guys on the team managed to pull him back.

“You want to put your money where your mouth is punk?!” Larry shouted, trying to get out of his restraints.

Steve looked him up and down. “You’re on. One on one in the outdoor basketball court. First one to twenty points wins. We need an unbiased ref...” he looked around until he found a black sophomore standing off the side. “You, you tried out for JV this year, right?”

The kid pointed to himself and looked around but Steve nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I didn’t make it, but yeah I play.”

Steve turned to Larry. “That okay with you?”

Larry nodded. “If I win, you quit the team and stop this fucking crusade you’re on.”

The crowd oohed and ahhed.

“And if I win,” Steve said with a knowing smirk, “you step down as captain and make me captain instead. And if you lay a single finger on anyone again, and you know what I mean, I’ll be sure to spill every dirty secret you ever uttered in the locker room. Don’t think that I won’t.”

Larry gulped heavily. The sound loud in the now dead silent hallway.

Steve stuck out his hand and Larry eyed it for a moment. He looked up into Steve’s steely gaze, then at the gathered crowd. He shook the offered hand and pumped it once.

“Saturday 10am,” Steve said with a grin. Larry nodded and Steve walked over to the kid who was going to be their ref and slung an arm around his shoulder. “Hey, kid, what’s your name?”

“Patrick,” the kid mumbled shyly.

“Well, Patrick,” he said, leading him away from the crowd, “the team will be down one player regardless of what happens, you should try out again.”

Everyone is left staring in shock as the two boys walk away talking about basketball.

Nancy, who had been watching the whole thing turned to Tina, “So that was hot, right?”

Tina just nodded, her mouth open and her eyes wide. She fanned herself with her hand and shook her head. “Girl, you fucked up when you let that one get away.”

Nancy bit her lip, but privately agreed. It had been a month, and Jonathan still wasn’t biting. Perhaps...

Perhaps she might have another, tastier option.

The bullying full on stopped as the whole school held their breath. Even the teacher had noticed the whispering in the hall, but time and time again, students would refuse to say why. The nerds sided with Eddie and his club, the popular kids sided with Steve, and everyone one else but the bullies wanted to keep out of it.

When the teachers finally reached out to the kids who were doing the bullying, therefore proving to the whole school the teachers knew, but didn’t care, the bullies had been forced into silence or admit to the bullying.

The morning dawn bright and clear. The frost clung to the windows of the school and a couple of the basketball teammates arrived at nine to shovel the outdoor court as it had snowed the night before.

Steve showed up with longjohns under his shorts and a sweat shirt with the team logo on the front. He stood there, basketball propped on his hip as he waited for Larry to arrive. He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, headband over his eyes.

10:01am.

Patrick came running up the court waving a whistle. “Sorry I’m late! I couldn’t find my whistle and had to go to the store to get another one.”

Larry grumbled, but Steve just threw Patrick the ball.

Larry and Steve stepped up to the middle line and Patrick stood between them with the ball. The two players shook hands and then Patrick threw it in the air.

Larry got the ball first, but in the end didn’t even matter.

Steve was far and away the better player. Whether Larry’s mom had done favors for the coach to make him captain was irrelevant. Because it soon became clear that he had only gotten the post due to some kind of favoritism.

Steve outmatched him on defense and was the better shot, making more of his shots than he missed.

Larry started panting halfway through as Steve outmatched in a different and just as vital way. Stamina.

Kids from all the cliques were pressed against the fence. Nancy in the front, cheering loudly for Steve along side all of his friends.

Tommy H. was shouting obscenities and Carol was calling Larry names.

But there was the silent section who had come out to watch. The one whose very lives depended on the outcome of the game.

You could call it hyperbole, but Eddie didn’t. It was apt. In those few scant weeks of not having his friends bullied, his grades actually fucking went up. Because he could concentrate on homework, instead of if tomorrow was going to be the day one of the bullies went too far and he lost one of sheep.

He still called out the bullying when he saw it, but now knowing that there were other people watching his sheep too? He could actually rest.

And if that was happening to him? He couldn’t dare to image what it was like for the kids who were being actively bullied. That first breath of relief knowing it wasn’t just a one time thing. That it was going to keep happening. That they were going to be able to just function. Must have felt like a god damned miracle.

Steve moved past Larry and slamdunked his final two points making it to twenty.

Larry sank to his knees as Patrick ran out on the court. “With a score of twenty to fourteen, Steve Harrington wins!”

He raised Steve’s hand over his head like a prize fighter. The gathered crowd roared to life, even those who had been watching silently at the other end of the court. The ones who didn’t understand what a layup was or how fouling worked. They began cheering too.

Steve walked over to Larry and got down on one knee, draping his arm over the other knee. “Some people are bullies because their home life is shit, some people are bullies because they don’t know how to be anything else. And some people just like you who are just fucking assholes who like make others miserable. Get the fuck off my court.”

He stood back up and waved at the crowd.

Steve managed to find an unlocked door and slipped into the locker room for a well earned shower. He still would have to put his gross clothes back on but at least he wouldn’t be dripping in sweat.

He heard the door open and close but decided to ignore it. Whether it was a well wisher or one of Larry’s ilk, he didn’t give a shit. He just wanted to be clean.

“Steve?” a warm and very welcome voice echoed through the empty chamber.

“Eddie?” he called back, poking his head out the shower stall to see him.

Eddie grinned. “There you are, big boy.”

Steve was grateful for the steam already painting his cheeks red so that Eddie wouldn’t see him blush.

“Hey,” he muttered softly.

Eddie came bounding up to him with a big grin on his face. “I went home and brought my PE clothes for ya so you didn’t have to put that sweaty shit back on.” He held up his bag. “We’re about the same size in everything but thighs, so this should get you home at the very least.”

“Oh you’re a lifesaver!” he breathed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, I wanted to.”

Steve pointed down at his sudsy body. “Just let me finish washing down and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

A few minutes later he shut off the water and called out, “Hey can you grab me a towel?”

“I could...” Eddie teased, “but then I’d miss the show of you waddling naked to grab one yourself.”

Steve’s eyebrows went up. “I wasn’t sure you’d be interested, after all the ball was in your court after your impromptu marriage proposal.”

Eddie licked his lips slowly and stalked over the low wall that separated the showers from the rest of the locker room. He looked Steve up and down, noting the high blush on his cheeks that had nothing to due with the heat. Or at least not the heat of the shower. Steve pushed his hair back and looked Eddie right in the eye.

Eddie smiled and reached out with one finger to trace a water droplet that had slid off of Steve’s collar bone to run for his belly button. Steve’s breath hitched as Eddie licked the water off his finger.

“I’m more than interested,” he murmured, leaning in close. “Just wasn’t sure if the offer was made in jest or if you were serious.”

Steve closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. Then he opened them slowly to see Eddie with his eyes wide and expression hopeful. Steve leaned in and pressed his lips to the other boy’s. It was soft and it was sweet.

Eddie leaned back, blinking. “So yeah, definitely serious then. So how about this, sweetheart, why don’t you get dressed in the things I brought you and you go home and get changed. Then I pick you up around, say... five for dinner at the diner?”

Steve’s face transformed with his smile. “I’d say that sounds like a date.” He kissed him again. Just as soft and just as sweet as the one before.

“I’m going to get cavities if you keep that up,” Eddie teased, walking away.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked tilting his head in confusion.

Eddie came back to locker room. “Getting you a towel, obviously. As much as I wouldn’t mind a sneaky peek, I think I’d rather wait to see you naked, spread out underneath me.”

Steve’s jaw worked up and down but no words came out.

“Catch you later, big boy!” Eddie called out over his shoulder after handing the towel to him.

As he was leaving he bumped into Nancy.

“Oh sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t see you there.”

Nancy chewed on her bottom lip. “Is Steve in there? I couldn’t find him after the game.”

“Yep!” he replied popping the P. “I brought him some clothes he could change into.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh!”

“Catch you around, Wheeler,” Eddie said giving her a salute.

As the door swung shut, she could see Steve in there happily singing a love song as he got dressed.

Nancy looked back at Eddie’s retreating form and then back at the now closed door. She sighed. She had a feeling that she was too late in getting Steve back.

He had moved on.

She blushed and ducked her head. Maybe it was a good thing. She needed to work on herself and Steve needed someone who was with him because they wanted to be and not just because he was the current available option.

By the time Steve came back out, she was gone.

Tag List: COMPLETED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

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

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

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

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

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10- @sadisticaltarts @yeahhhh-suga @ohimamarigold @imamixofeverthing @samsoble

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #season 1 au #knight protectorate au

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scoonsalicious · 7 months ago

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6.2 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, toxic plants being manipulative and toxic.

Word Count: Bucky done fucked up.

Previously On...: 2.5k

A/N: Please note: I will be taking a one week break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th, to focus on writing. I will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was on his way!

After disconnecting from her call with Bucky, Lily bent down to her front driver’s side tire and, using her car key, pried out the nail she’d run over to ensure it would go flat while she ran the trail. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she hurled the nail into the woods, getting rid of any evidence that she’d manufactured the current predicament she “accidentally” found herself in.

It didn’t matter if Bucky hadn’t come home from his date last night. Hadn’t told her that he’d even been on a date to begin with. What mattered was that, when Lily had called, Bucky had left the bitch behind and had come running. To her.

And that meant something.

Right?

Bucky could go out with some slut if he wanted to, but when Lily had needed him, Bucky had dropped everything to be there for her, and that knowledge made Lily’s insides glow with warmth. She was still his number one girl; she shouldn’t have let herself get worked up over one date that probably didn’t mean anything. Bucky had dated before, and Lily had made sure none of them stuck around for very long. This time wouldn’t be any different.

So, Lily waited. She checked her email, she played some games on her phone, she listened to a podcast. Finally, a little over an hour after she’d hung up with Bucky, she saw one of Tony’s sportscars speed into the parking lot and make its way to the trailhead.

Her heart sank at the thought of Bucky sending Tony Stark to help her in his stead, so it was quite a shock to her system when the car pulled up next to hers, turned its engine off, and Bucky himself stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his usual tshirt and jeans, no– he was wearing a rumpled burgundy button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the first couple of buttons left undone at his neck, and a pair of fitted, black trousers.

Lily swallowed. His hair was a mess, but she could imagine how put together he must have looked the night before, and that made her stomach twist. He’d made an effort. He’d made a real, genuine effort to dress up for this date that he lied to her about.

“Hey, Lil,” he said, once she got out of her car to meet him. He smiled, but she’d known him long enough to be able to tell when his smiles weren’t genuine, and this one didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, offering him a fake smile of her own to hide her distress. “Thank you so much for coming out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m sure Steve or Sam or anyone from the Compound would have been more than willing to help you out, Lil,” Bucky said as he walked to the back of her car. “Could you pop the trunk for me so I can get your jack and the spare?”

Lily bent her head back inside to unlock the trunk, rolling her eyes as she did so. If she’d wanted someone else to change her tire, she’d have just done it herself. Or, you know, not popped her own tire to begin with. But that was beside the point.

She walked around to the back of the car so she could help Bucky move things around in her trunk to get to her spare. “You’re dressed awfully fancy for a Sunday morning,” she said, watching him out of the side of her eye. “You find God and suddenly decide to start going to church?”

Bucky chuckled. “Something like that,” he said. Lily stole a glance in his direction and caught him smiling softly to himself as he pulled her spare out from the trunk with his vibranium hand. Taking her car jack in the other, he moved around to the driver’s side and began loosening the lug nuts with his left hand. Lily shivered when she considered how strong he was, how much power that one hand contained.

Once all the nuts were loosened, he slid the jack under the frame of the car and began raising it. He was annoyingly efficient at this, Lily thought, and she realized her window of time with him wasn’t as big as she had originally anticipated.

“So, where were you when I called this morning, really?” she asked, leaning up against the side of Tony’s car as she watched him work. She just wanted him to be honest with her. She didn’t think she could take it if he continued to lie.

Bucky stilled in his motions. “I… I, uh, had a date,” he said after a moment.

Lily paused, playing confused. “A date on a Sunday morning?” she asked him. “That’s a really weird—oh.” Bucky left the car suspended on the jack and turned to face her, hands shoved into his pockets, and the guilt in his eyes nearly palpable.

Good, Lily thought. Let him be guilty, now that he realizes I know he lied to me. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Jamie,” she said, voice deliberately meek and soft. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Bucky sighed and leaned back against her car. “It’s new,” he said. “Like, really new.”

Good, she thought. This hasn’t been going on for a long time. There was still a good chance she could nip it in the bud before it grew into a real problem. “So, when you said you were out with Sam last night…” She left it hanging in the air. Let him be the one to say the word.

“I lied to you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Why, Jamie?” she asked him. “I didn’t think we lied to one another.” She thought about the hole she’d punched in her own tire. Well, she didn’t think he lied to her.

“We don’t, Lil,” he said. “I just… It seems like whenever I start seeing someone new, you just…” he paused to consider his words, and Lily started to get nervous. Did he know… did he suspect the things she’d done in the past to keep other girls away from him? He couldn’t. She’d been so careful… “You just form a lot of opinions on them, really quickly,” he said, and she released a breath. He didn’t know anything. She was safe. “I wanted to get to know this girl on my own, without any outside influences, before I decided to find out what everyone else thought about her.”

“I only tell you what I think because I care about you, Jamie,” Lily protested in her gentlest voice. She was going to have to walk a very delicate line here, between stressing her point and sounding sympathetic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know you are, and I do appreciate it, but… I want to be able to figure out how I feel about this one before I start soliciting opinions about her from everyone else. Does that make sense?”

It did. Fuck, it did. Usually, Bucky was so eager to talk about the new girls he was dating, to introduce him to his best friends and find out what they thought about her, to get their opinions. If he was reticent this time, it could only mean one, horrible thing:

“You really like this girl, don’t you, Jamie?” Lily asked, trying so hard to keep her voice light, when inside, she felt like she was dying.

Bucky looked up at her. “Yeah, Lil,” he said, his dazzling white smile beaming at her and making her heart stop. “I really do.”

“That’s great,” Lily choked out. She turned back to the trunk of her car, pretending to busy herself with its contents so she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s really great.”

She heard Bucky move around and start working on the tire again. “Not really,” he said, his voice sounding dejected. Lily moved her head around from the back of the trunk to look at him.

“What do you mean?” she asked, a spark of hope coming to life in her chest.

Bucky let out a long sigh. “I think I might have blown it with her,” he said as he worked to take the flat tire off of her car.

“Oh no,” Lily said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything, afterall. Maybe Bucky had managed to fuck it up on his own. “What happened?”

Bucky was silent for a moment as he replaced the tire with ease. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said eventually. “Let’s just say that we left things very… ambiguously. I asked her if I could call her later, she didn’t really give me an answer either way. Just kind of shrugged. If she wanted me to call her, she would have just said so, right?”

Lily felt her stomach do a happy flip, but she put on a fake pout. “Oh, Jamie,” she said, fake sympathy oozing over her words, “please don’t tell me she’s playing mind games like that with you already! If a girl wants you to call her, she’ll tell you to call her, not play hard to get.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky said defensively as he began re-tightening the lugnuts on the tire. “I just… I did something she didn’t like, is all. And she’s probably rightly pissed about it.”

Lily walked around the car to stand next to him as he finished up. “I don’t think I like this, Jamie,” she said cautiously. “You’ve barely started dating this girl, and already she thinks she can dictate your actions? That doesn’t seem healthy to me, at all.”

Bucky stood, running a hand across his face. “Nah, Lil– you’re… you’re getting it twisted. I made a mistake. I know I did, and she’s got every right to be mad at me about it. I need to talk to her, to sort it out.” Lily was losing ground; thankfully, she’d come prepared.

“Listen, Jamie,” she said, abruptly changing the topic in the hopes of getting his mind off this mysterious skank, “I was planning on having lunch up here today, since it’s so gorgeous out. I probably overdid it when I packed my food. Do you want to join me?”

Bucky heaved a sigh and looked like he was about to decline.

“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for you coming all the way out here to rescue me,” she added, knowing that she was laying it on thick, but not wanting him to walk away. “Come on, we’ll make a picnic of it. It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said, letting a smile cross his face. “I could eat.”

Bucky Barnes always did have a soft spot for a damsel in distress. With a grin, Lily opened the backseat of her car and pulled out the cooler she’d preemptively packed in the hope that just such an opportunity would arise. Lily was nothing if not prepared.

Bucky reached for it. “Here, let me,” he said, taking it from her. Lily smiled to herself as she reached back into the car to pull out the picnic blanket she’d packed.

“Such a gentleman,” she said as she closed the car door and led Bucky down one of the trails. It was a gorgeous late-summer day, and Lily could almost convince herself they were on a real date together. Almost. God, what she wouldn’t give for this to be the real thing.

After they’d walked for about fifteen minutes, Lily veered left off of the trail and into the woods. “You bringing me back here to kill me?” Bucky asked in a playful tone as he followed her with the cooler.

“Yup,” Lily teased right back. “I definitely have faith in my ability to take out a super soldier on my own.” Her heart swelled when she was rewarded with an amused chuckle from Bucky.

Soon, they reached her destination: a cozy clearing that sat along the bank of a creek that ran through the park, with a small waterfall that fed a crystal clear pool below.

“This is nice,” Bucky said, coming up behind Lily as she fanned out the blanket. “How’d you find this spot?”

Lily sat down and reached to take the cooler from Bucky, beckoning him to join her. “I was scouting some potential off-trail runs for the recruits and just kind of stumbled upon it,” she told him. She opened up the cooler and began taking out the food she’d brought– all of Bucky’s favorites.

Bucky nodded, then looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You packed all of this for yourself, Lil?”

Lily felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks– she had not, in fact, packed it all for herself, but specifically in the hope that he would end up joining her, though he could never know that. “I guess I just overestimated how hungry I’d be after my run,” she told him as she handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks for joining me so that all this food doesn’t go to waste.”

“No problem,” he said as he began to tear into the food she’d brought. “Thanks for getting a flat tire, I guess,” he added with a laugh.

They ate amicably, making small talk about their upcoming plans for the week, and how Lily’s latest batch of recruits looked. Lily was itching to ask Bucky more about his mystery date, to find out who she was, if she was someone Lily knew; but she didn’t want to bring it up– the less Bucky talked about her, the more likely he was to just forget about her all together, right? Especially if he’d done something to piss her off. Better to keep him distracted so that the window of opportunity for any reconciliation closed without him noticing it.

Soon, the food was gone, the sun high in the sky. Lily and Bucky both lay back on the picnic blanket, staring lazily up into the blue sky. “We should do something today,” Lily suggested, trying not to sound too eager.

Bucky chuckled. “Aren’t we doing something now, Lil?” he asked.

She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Later, I mean. Like, we’re having a good time; we should continue it. Go somewhere nice for dinner, do something after, like go to a club or see a show or something. Make a whole ‘friend-date’ night out of it!” Anything, she thought to herself. I’ll do anything, as long as I’m doing it with you. And who knew what could happen in the right romantic setting?

“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun,” Bucky mused. “Sure.”

“Really?” Lily couldn’t believe her luck. “Leave all the planning to me, then!” She’d make sure she got a table at the most romantic restaurant she could find, and get them tickets to something steamy that would put Bucky in the right mood… She knew just what dress to wear, to show just enough skin to be tantalizing…

Yes, tonight, things were going to change. Lily could feel it.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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rocknrollsalad · 4 days ago

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rating: m cw: discussions of sex, sex toys tags: modern au, established relationship, Eddie is a menace, target doesn't understand what a Christmas tree is, steve knows what his boyfriend wants word count: 856

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt "tree"

“Hey, Steve! Check it out!”

The giggle that followed had Steve rolling his eyes before he turned around. He knew he was going to turn around and find some reindeer statue mounting another or Santa’s arm bent the wrong way so it looked like he was jacking off.

Eddie’s sense of humor was like that and usually Steve enjoyed it. The jokes were funny but right now he was trying to do calculations far beyond the scope of someone who repeated most math classes in high school. He didn’t have time to look at the lion menorah that resembled a dick from the right angle. Not while trying to remember how many inches were in a foot.

Still, he looked. What Eddie had this time was a white ceramic tree which he held like a fancy waiter offering the night’s wine choices.

Steve did a double take. This wasn’t the usual suggestive candy cane placement but almost an outright sex toy. Though he had other problems to work out, Steve was dying to know who put this in their house. No way anyone did so seriously. Who was this for? Was Eddie the target market?

“It’s ribbed. For her pleasure,” Eddie said, trying to be seductive but too caught up in laughing at his own joke.

“And it doesn’t have a flared base. For your trip to the ER,” Steve couldn’t get into it right now. He was on a mission and that mission wasn’t questionable shaped Christmas trees.

Before he could start to entertain the numbers again, Eddie said. “Then you’re definitely not going to want this one.”

Against better judgment, Steve turned to see Eddie holding a marble cone. Possibly meant to be a tree because Steve didn’t remember Eddie wandering away for long enough to go to any other section. It looked nothing like a tree though—just a cone.

“Get real,” Steve sighed.

“Wait!” Eddie said, turning to the shelf. He grabbed a red glass tree, it looked far more like a holiday decoration but still a butt plug. Eddie wiggled the tree and widened his eyes, singing “Flared base.”

Which the tree did have but Steve quickly pointed out, “It’s smaller than the bottom of the tree so it’d still…” Steve finished that thought with a slurp.

“Yeah, same problem with this one,” Eddie held up another ceramic tree, this one was green and had lights sticking out of it in every direction. It was purely tree, the only reason it resembled a sex toy was this conversation.

“That has more problems than it’s lack of a good flared base,” Steve said, tossing in several boxes of lights. He wasn’t sure if he was going to have to return boxes or come back for more but it was clear shopping was done for today.

Eddie wasn’t finished, though. “Then how about these?”

In each hand, Eddie held wooden “trees”. A word that had never been so loosely used before. These were probably for dollhouses or kids or something given how small they were. One was all brown and snow-capped. The other was, in all honesty, a green plug.

Eddie finally won, Steve’s jaw went slack as he tried to figure out who in the design department was approving all of these and why were there so many. This wasn’t Eddie’s dirty mind or ability to position figurines just right. It was real and probably went through several rounds of approval to sit on the shelves of a big box store looking like you needed a black bag to carry them out.

Finally earning something other than annoyance, Eddie tossed the two wooden ones in the cart and they made their way up to the register whispering about the ones Eddie didn’t show off. Bragging that he didn’t bring the ones up that looked bristly and painful.

What stuck out to Steve was the amount of “I’d try it” jokes coming from Eddie. Not only did he know better but they had non-festive toys at home. Safe toys that would do the same thing and save them the most embarrassing of x-rays. Whether Eddie needed a festive orgasm or some play time, Steve was going to make sure he had both. The signals were coming in loud and clear.

Once they were home and Eddie was invested in a project of his own, Steve set to online shopping. He’d expected to find something similar to the tiny wooden tree now on display by their TV. With next to no digging around, he found something infinitely better. Which shouldn’t have been the surprise it was. Purchase had never been clicked so fast.

With expedited shipping (costing him a small fortune) Steve bought Eddie a Christmas tree. One that looked more tree-like than anything he picked up today. A little smaller than some of the other plugs rolling around the drawer of fun but bright green with a flared base and a star on top.

The jokes about trimming the tree and decking the balls would be numerous and insufferable but what a small price to pay for love. And a night of great sex.

#steddie #steve x eddie #written for: steddie holiday drabbles 2024 #check out the tags #its a lot of sex toy talk #also i hope the links are fun inspo and not annoying

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shieldofiron · 8 months ago

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Steve who’s convinced that Billy is straight. I mean convinced. He was the only lunatic in the world who would start liking a girl more after she waved a gun in his face… And it turned out that after Billy apologized to Lucas, Steve was next on the list. And he was having some kinds of feelings about it.

Goes through all seven levels of hell because he’s had guy crushes before sure, but it’s never been like this. Not when Billy’s apologizing in the parking lot, spitting fire with a black eye that Steve doesn’t remember putting there. Not when Steve finally stutters out the explanation he came up with Hopper when they all got back, and Billy had cracked, patting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. That shoulder felt warm for the rest of the day.

And then he saw Billy leaning over Aimee Parkinson and his whole body turned to ice for a second. It was probably just a break up thing. Like his feelings were just acting up. After all Steve still likes girls. Still got interested… but then sometimes he would think about that warm shoulder, about hands that never had scrapes on them. Billy just had really nice hands, ok?

He was able to ride that explanation for another few months, hands shaking when they made contact in gym or when he handed him a beer those infrequent nights when he’d go on a drive and find Billy’s car out by the quarry. Just getting over Nancy still, the feelings spilling over. And sometimes guys get man crushes when they want to be friends. Right?

It’s only that day at Starcourt when he sees Billy drive his car into Mrs Wheeler’s station wagon to try to stop her from hitting Nancy that it hits him. This shit isn’t going away. Not that there’s much time to think of it. Between the fireworks and Steve’s throbbing head there was Billy. Billy hustling El away when Mrs Wheeler dragged her to the monster and promptly melted into it, absorbed. Billy, who was the first person to hug Mike Wheeler after, telling him it was going to be ok, that his mom loved him, Billy knew she did.

Between late nights at the hospital, and waking up to one of those nice hands laid over his. They were friends. And it was a level of hell as of yet unimagined.

Friends, as it turned out, got jobs together. Fucking Keith loved Billy. Thought he was a laugh riot because Billy could quote some stupid British movie from memory. Because Billy was a nerd, underneath all the swagger and the unbuttoned shirts. And even that made Steve’s knees weak.

Eventually Robin clues him in. Gives him a word. Turns out liking guys and girls and basically whoever he likes is not the singular suffering of one Steven Alessandro Harrington. And it’s nice to have the word for it, even if he can’t do jack about it.

And then one night they’re shooting the shit after a late shift. Billy’s got his shirt off and his family video vest on, because he’s a demon from the fifth dimension. And Steve’s got extra cologne on because they’re hanging out. And they’re talking about how El wants her powers back and… Billy starts crying.

He starts babbling about Mrs Wheeler, how it’s Billy’s fault, all of it. Because she was driving out on that road to meet him.

Steve turns to ice again. Because he knew Billy was straight but… this…

But Billy keeps crying. Talking about his dad, how his dad always wants him to be a man. That he had to lie he had a date tonight just to be here. And how Billy thought if a rumor started with the moms in town it would finally get back to his dad, and his dad would believe it and lay off him. Believe that Billy is straight.

Steve lays a hand on Billy’s shoulder. And it burns, burns like hell. What did Billy always say. Looks like there’s some fire in him after all?

“What if you weren’t lying to your dad?”

Sniffles. Wiping tears away from blue eyes with his own hands.

“Whad’ya mean, Harrington.”

“This could be a date.”

Billy doesn’t move away. Those hands curl into Steve’s vest collar as their lips meet. Billy makes a noise, a sweet heavenly noise.

“You can call me Stephanie,” Steve whispers when they finally pull apart for a second. “If that makes you feel better.”

Billy snorts. “I could never want a girl like this. Sorry, I’ve only had my eye on one guy in town. Maybe you’ve heard of King Steve?”

Steve runs his hands up Billy’s shoulders, tangles in his hair, slotting their knees together. Billy can be very convincing.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #shieldofiron #my writing #heaven and hell #tw Karen wheeler mention

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oneforthemunny · 2 years ago

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love drunk |bouncer!eddie munson x bartender!reader|

prompt: you and eddie work valentine's day at the hideout.

contains: 18+. alcohol, creepy old guys at the bar, mentions of road head, jealous!eddie, dacrphilia, mean!eddie, oral fem rec, spanking, hair pulling, degrading, p in v sex, aftercare. minors dni.

The Hideout was buzzing, filled with an unusual crowd of unlikely people, but what else did you expect on Valentine's Day?

Broken hearted men washing away their bitterness with beer and whisky, next to galentines celebrating their own freedom and singleness with shots and bad karaoke. The usual boys who were prowling the crowds for women desperate enough to go home with them, spewing horrible pick up lines that usually left the girls cringing and retreating the other way. Then there were the couples, some regulars and some not. They came to celebrate at the high top tables, people watch and enjoy their time together.

You'd been busy since you clocked in a little after four. You knew you'd be here well past last call, but that was alright, because Eddie was here. He was working the door with Tony, both in all black, leaned up at the entrance checking IDs and taking covers. Before your shift, Eddie had picked you up in his van, a dozen roses in the passenger seat.

You'd blushed, gushing to him about how sweet the gesture was. Eddie was sweet, so sweet. You'd never met a guy sweeter. He'd shrugged when you kissed him, smiley and gooey insides. "Anything for my best girl."

The two of you had only been together a few weeks, barely breaking the title of being official. You hadn't expected the gesture really, especially because you both worked. You figured you'd fuck after you got back to his place, you had wore your matching pink set for that reason, but the flowers were an extra effort that had your head swirling.

You sucked him off while he drove you to work as a thank you.

Now, you were pouring shots, mixing drinks, opening beers, collecting tips, slipping the wadded fives even some bigger bills into your bra with a wink and a dazzling smile. You knew the crowd would be big, and the tippers even bigger- the holidays always made people more generous when you were pouring drinks down their throats- so you wore your tightest, lowest top.

Eddie had noticed.

His eyes would catch yours from the door, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth when you bent over, shorts riding up over the nylon stockings you had underneath.

"C'mon, man." Tony laughed, shoving Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie smirked, nodding to the desperate girl at the door, who batted her eyes at him, eyes attempting at what he could only guess was sultry or sexy. He didn't care. They never worked on him anymore.

You poured another shot of whisky, sliding the glasses to the men in front of you. "Hey, sweetheart, take a shot with us." The old man slurred, tie loose and around his neck.

You smirked, adding their drinks to his tab. "Sorry, I'm on the clock." You said with an exaggerated pout. "My manager will get real mad at me."

The men sounded off their displeasure, smacking the bar with open palms so their glasses rattled. "Who, Mickey? I know Mickey, baby, he-he won't get ya in trouble. Not a pretty thing like you."

You knew these guys were big tippers which is the only reason you hadn't had them cut off and removed. They had been whistling, cat calling, and spewing every lewd, vulgar thing that came to their drunken, filthy minds and you and Tasha all night. You both would just look at each other, roll your eyes, and go back to the middle-aged women divorcees who were much nicer and sweeter to you.

"Just one little shot, baby. Hell, I'll pay for it." Jack Harrington, Steve's dad, slurred, grinning at you with a predatory smile. No wonder Steve hated the guy so much.

"I'll do you one better," They guy next to him, Marco- you think, boasted, pulling out his wallet. He slid a crisp one hundred dollar bill out, slapping it on the table. "One hundred dollars and I'll buy the shot. Make it top shelf, sweetheart." He winked, the other guys whooping and hollering with him.

Eddie had looked over at the commotion, dark eyes narrowed on the rowdy group of men. He despised when they came in. Regulars and assholes at that, always hurling objectifying, nasty comments to the bartenders there. Getting so drunk they could barely drive home. They were especially rowdy tonight after dinner with their wives and mistresses, who they hated, before coming here.

Eddie was waiting, just waiting for you or Tasha to give him the sign. Give him the signal that they needed to be gone. He'd take complete joy in tossing them out, making sure they hit the pavement on their way out.

"I tell you what," You started, placing your hands on your hips. You nudged Tasha who watched you carefully, pouring her ale into a glass. "Make it a hundred a piece for me and Tasha, I'll pick the shot, and," You paused, smirking at the way their eyes lit up. "You gotta go sing me a song." You nodded towards the stage.

The men howled in laughter as Marco pulled out another hundred, sliding it next to yours. "Deal, angel." He said smugly. "Any requests?"

You grabbed the money, sliding Tasha her's then sliding yours in your bra. You pulled out a shot glasses, lining them up Patron and a bowl of limes. "Something romantic." You smiled. "It's Valentine's Day after all."

You pressed your glass against theirs, downing the harsh liquid with a grimace while they cheered you on, celebrating each other obnoxiously. Eddie's jaw clenched from the door, yanking the cover cash from a college aged kid a little too harshly. He knew it was your job, you were just trying to make enough money to pay your rent just like he was, but it didn't make it any less hard when you'd flirt like this.

You made your rounds, pouring, swiping, smiling, and maneuvering expertly around the bar. Stacking glasses, cutting limes and oranges, wiping away spills, chatting with patrons. You even filled up two glasses of water, light ice and extra lemon- the way Eddie liked it- bringing them to the door for Tony and him.

Eddie smiled when you brought it over, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks, baby," Eddie muttered, stabbing his straw on the table in front of him, wadding up the wrapper.

"You need anything else?" You asked, looking at Tony then Eddie.

"Nah, do you? Those guys still bothering you and Tasha?" Tony asked, nodding to the group of men from before.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "No, they're jackasses. Total dicks, but we're fine." You smiled, placing a hand on Eddie's shoulder, squeezing it gently. You didn't miss the way he was tight, tense against your touch.

He tensed even more when Marco got up on stage, sloppily serenading you to ACDC's 'Shook Me All Night Long' with added vulgar dance moves while he pointed at you, adding your name into the chorus lyrics. Eddie was fuming.

Closing time couldn't come soon enough. The love birds and broken hearted left as easily as they came, the miracle of holidays. You and Tasha finished your closing duties, laughing and scoffing while you exchanged stories from the night. Eddie and Tony helped you, tidying up the place, but Eddie didn't have his usual charm. He wasn't cracking jokes, flexing his muscles and exaggeratedly saying 'what he woulda done if he wasn't on the clock'. He was distant, quiet, even with you.

By the time the two of you walked out, your arms looped around his leather clad arm, his mind was reeling. "...I made a lot of tips tonight." You grinned excitedly to him. "It was a pretty good night actually. I thought we'd be dead on Valentine's Day, but I've got enough in tips tonight to pay my rent for the month!"

Eddie huffed, furiously starting the engine to the van. "Yeah, that's great." He muttered. "With how you were actin' tonight, 'm not surprised."

You faltered, eyes furrowing a bit. "Ed, what're you talking about?" You asked. He shook you off, peeling out of the parking lot furiously. "Hey, look at me, are you," You squinted, studying his features. "Are you jealous?"

You couldn't help the little grin that formed on your lips when you asked, eyes lighting up mischievously. Eddie huffed. "'M not jealous." He snapped. "Just fuckin' hate it when you entertain those douchebag guys." He snarled.

You snorted, smugly crossing your arms. "You're jealous." You declared. "Honestly, Eddie, do you really think I give a shit about those guys?"

"You sure act like you do." Eddie bit, eyes flashing over to you. "Takin' shots and talkin' all sweet to 'em. No wonder he sang that shit to you, and you were laughing-"

"-Because he looked like an idiot." You laughed. "Tasha and I we're making fun of him. Everyone was laughing at him." Eddie huffed, a pouty, childish huff that left you grinning.

"They're complete and utter assholes that are good tippers, Eddie. I am repulsed by them, honestly. They're so gross and creepy, and I'm actually a little insulted that you would think they're my type." You snipped, eyeing him carefully.

Eddie's lips pressed together, not necessarily mad but thinking. You leaned closer to him, arms wrapping around his torso, pressing kisses to the exposed, ink skin of his biceps. "Baby, please, you can't seriously think I'd be into them." You said, looking up at him with rounded eyes.

"Just don't like it 's all." Eddie muttered. "Don't like it when they say that kinda shit to you." His fists clenched on the wheel, knuckles whitening. Your heart fluttered.

You hummed, pushing a stray hair behind his ear, tucking it and trailing your finger lightly down his jaw. "Don't be upset, please?" You asked. "It's Valentine's Day."

"That was technically yesterday." Eddie grumbled looking at the clock on his dash, the time read 3:02 a.m.

You sighed dramatically, pulling back so you sat in your seat. "Oh, guess I wore this for nothing then." You said, with a small shrug, looking out the window.

You felt Eddie's eyes on you. "Wore your work uniform?" Eddie snorted.

Your eyes flashed at him, biting back a smile. "No-o," You sing-song, batting your eyes at him. "What's under it, silly." You teased.

You'd been more than happy to show Eddie once you got back to his trailer, his mood lightening severely with the reveal. You'd kneeled on the edge of his bed, pink hearts smattering the see through material of the bra and panties, leaving very little the imagination.

Eddie dropped to his knees when he saw you, hands roaming all over your waist, legs, hips, squeezing and grabbing at anything he could, eyes wide and mouth watering. You looked like an angel, an angel he was about to ruin.

He didn't taken your panties off the whole night. He licked you right through the thin material until they were completely soaked from you and him. He'd pulled your bra down under your tits, so they were pushed up and presented for him while he sucked bruises into the delicate skin, marking you completely.

When he did fuck you, after you were writing and begging under his touch, he was relentless. Pounding you into the sheets until you couldn't even utter a sound, moans and gasps caught in your throat, tears streaming down your face.

"Yeah? You like that, don't you?" Eddie asked, hand cracking down on your upturned ass, gripping the skin as he pounded into you. "Like being fucked like the little slut you are, don't you?"

You drooled into the sheets, tears and saliva mixing into the pool beneath you. Eddie was fucking you with vigor, much more than you expected after a late night, busy shift. Your legs shook, clamping around him again with a small whine.

"Aw, you gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, huh?" Eddie cooed mockingly towards you.

Your eyes rolled back, crying when you came, then gasping when he yanked your hair back, pulling you up so you were flush against him, one arm around your torso, the other tweaking your sensitive nipples.

"God, I've wanted to fuck you all night." Eddie growled in your ear. "You wore those short little shorts didn't you? Had to wear them tonight, didn't you, you little slut?"

You cried, tears leaking down your cheeks, gripping onto his wrist. You were so sensitive, every thrust of his cock felt like a jab into your belly, a blow that sent you spiraling into your white hot abyss.

"Fuck, look at you, so pathetic." Eddie sneered, gripping your jaw harshly. "Wish those guys could see you now, huh? See you crying' like this. And over what, huh? Over my dick?"

You whimpered, lip wobbling as you clenched around him. Eddie groaned, tilting his own head back. You loved it when he was mean, when he fucked you like he owned you. Eddie let you fall forward into the mattress face first, gripping your hips as he snapped his hips into yours rough and purposeful.

You gripped the sheets, clenching hard around him as he muttered behind you, bringing his hand down twice on your cheeks before cumming, buried deep into your sopping pussy.

Eddie bent at the waist, falling on top of you gently, sweaty bangs pressed to your back, pressing kisses up and down your spine. "Holy shit," Eddie breathed out, deep and slow, eyes still closed.

You whimpered when he pulled out of you, leaving you aching and empty. You cheeks were sticky with tears and smeared makeup, legs still shaking even as Eddie went to the bathroom to grab a rag and clean you.

He took his time with you after, cleaning you up slowly, pressing kisses into you cheeks, neck, down your sternum, on your legs. He wiped himself off before throwing the rag into the hamper, climbing into the bed next to you. You were pressed up into his sheets, legs over his torso, arms tangled together, sharing the assorted chocolate that Mickey had given everyone- a thank you for working the holiday.

"You like the fruit ones?" You asked, nose twisting up in disgust.

Eddie shrugged, popping the orange cream filled chocolate into his mouth. "Yeah, 's pretty good. You don't?"

You shook your head, burying yourself into his inked skin, lids heavy as he stroked your hair. "I liked the caramel ones, or the toffee."

Eddie scoffed. "Lame. Everybody likes those."

You giggled, vibrations rocking from your chest to his making him smile. Eddie looked down at you, your fingers wrapped around his sheets, lashes fluttering to fight against the sleep tugging at your eyes.

"Thank you for the roses." You yawned, looking up at him. "No ones ever got those for me before." You admitted.

"Really?" Eddie asked, you shook your head. "That's a damn shame. Glad I'm the first." He grinned, pressing a kiss to your head.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby." He whispered, feeling your body sink into his, heavy on his chest. "Maybe next year we'll get the night off, hm?"

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 year ago

Text

To fall, to burn

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, October warm-up round.

Prompt: Halloween

Rated: T

CW: alcohol abuse, mind control

Tags: Vampire!Eddie; Steve and Nancy are unhappily married; sexual tension

Notes: This started out as an attempt at the @steddiemicrofic for October, but it sort of spiralled, so here we are. 🙃

His name is Eddie and he's always dressed as a vampire.

He shows up on their first Halloween at the new house, looking elegant and suave in his waistcoat, dark hair in an old-fashioned braid down his back. Steve, immediately drawn in by his wit and easy charm, asks if he lives nearby, and Eddie chuckles.

"Used to," he says. "Now I just visit occasionally."

They spend the better part of the night out on the porch, chatting away while the trick-and-treaters trickle by.

"Newly married?" Eddie asks at some point, red eyes trained on his ring finger. They look so real. Steve wonders what contacts he uses.

"Yeah," he nods. "Nancy isn't here, though. She's away for business a lot, just got promoted."

"What?" Eddie smiles, bright and dimpled and with a hint of fangs. "Leaving a pretty thing like you all alone? Shame."

Steve laughs, and if he notices how those eyes linger on the blush that creeps up his neck, that's nobody's business, right?

"What's got that lovely face all sad on this beautiful night?"

"Oh, hey!" Steve tears his eyes off the costumed children passing by as Eddie joins him on the porch steps. "Didn't see you all year."

"Of course not," Eddie winks. "I'm a creature of darkness."

His costume is more modern today, all black leather and chains, hair spilling over his shoulders in messy curls.

Steve chuckles, twists his wedding band. Frowns.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Steve huffs. "No. Yeah. I dunno, maybe."

And then - and he has no idea why - he spills his heart to this complete stranger. How maybe they both rushed into this marriage. How they seem to be wanting different things from life. How he always thought they'd have kids, lots of them, while Nancy is so focused on her career. Maybe it's the way those ruby eyes never leave him as he speaks. They draw him in, drag all the things he keeps buried deep inside to the surface, until he feels raw and vulnerable and wide open. Seen.

"She's a fool," Eddie hums. And Steve never noticed, but he has shifted closer. So close their shoulders are brushing. So close that Steve feels his breath on his skin, so close Eddie’s scent tickles his nostrils. Leather and musk and something earthy and wild. "You should have anything you desire."

Steve laughs it off, but it feels wrong in his throat.

Steve's bottle of whisky is almost empty and the trick-and-treaters long gone when he looks up to see Eddie standing before him, jewelry glinting in the dying light of the Jack O'Lanterns. Those red eyes flick over the last of the cardboard boxes still stacked on the porch and Eddie’s face twitches.

"She gone then?"

Steve blinks sluggishly. Nods, sways, topples. Eddie is crouched in front of him in an instant, catches him before he can fall and cradles him to his chest.

"It's okay, sweet thing, let it out."

Steve is about to ask what he means, but then the sticky wetness on his face registers, and he flushes with humiliation.

"Shit," he slurs, tries to stand. "Sorry."

Eddie brings one strong hand to the back of his head and pulls him back in. His fingers card through Steve’s hair, a solid, firm weight.

"No need to apologize for a broken heart. I'm just sorry it had to come this far."

He smiles, fangs gleaming in the low light, and something inside Steve's chest flutters. His head is dizzy, and Eddie’s eyes are so pretty, a swirling vortex of red that's sucking him in. He wants nothing more than to fall into them and burn.

"Steve .. " Eddie is saying, and Steve must be so, so drunk, because he could swear his lips aren’t moving, and still that voice is clear as day in his head, in his bones. In his blood. "If you were mine … I'd never let anything hurt you."

"Would …" Steve gulps. Eddie’s eyes watch the movement of his throat, pupils blown wide, watch his tongue as it darts out to wet too-dry lips. "Would you maybe … like to go inside?"

"Aw, honey, finally!" Eddie’s eyes crinkle around the corners, and then he hoists Steve to his feet like a ragdoll, steers them both towards the door with one firm arm around his waist. His breath tickles the hollow of Steve's neck, and his fangs scrape his rabbiting pulse. "Thought you'd never ask."

Part 2

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #vampire!eddie munson #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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anika-ann · 1 year ago

Text

Paperweight (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, prequel, canon-ish (see A/N)

Pairining: (pre) Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 4000

Summary: Falling in love with Steve Rogers is easy. Hiding it while your friendship blooms is considerably harder. Especially when he’s being absurdly loveable and perfectly hot during a training.

In which you stay behind after a work-out, bear witness to a training session led by Steve and are asked for assistance. How could you say no to the man?

Warnings: FLUFF, mentions of canon-typical violence, language? Hopeless idiots in love.

A/N: a slice-of-life standalone or a one-shot set about half a year before Love on the Brain series; reader is called “Agent Jones”; divider by firefly-graphics 😍

If there was one thing you had known long before you joined the Avengers Initiative, it was that falling for a friend tended to be a complicated thing. It was even more complicated if one was worried it might not work out – which was practically always. The growing affection and attraction were not easy to hide, especially from perceptive people. People like Black Widow. Or worse, Steve Rogers himself.

The one thing making it easier was that everyone and their (grand)mother – in this case, the saying was way more accurate than in all other cases you were aware of – had a crush on Steve Rogers too. That meant that if someone caught you staring, lingering, or even gushing (usually meaning defending) Steve, it was hardly something unique to you. No one would think twice about it. Even as his friend, you were a person with well-working eyes and blood pumping your veins and it was indeed very hard to miss that Steve’s body was literally boosted to perfection to become the peak of man. That was fine.

However, the one thing making it insanely difficult was Steve. His irritating goodness of heart that was actually way more attractive that all typical bad boys from the movies made it seem. When he added the mischievous side to his persona, his wit, his warmth, both physical and in demeanour… and the numerous numerous occasions where he could show off not all his character qualities, but also his strength, it was impossible to stay within the lines of a simple crush.

Growing affection and attraction were never easy to hide, but god damn, in the case of Steven Grant Rogers, it was task fit for titans. And you were just a walking mass of bones, flesh, blood and hormones with a brain that might be rather well-developed, but could still short-circuit when Steve showed off the biceps that could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat – or flashed you an easy smile with the sweetest edge or a spark of being up to no good.

Now, it was given that Steve was a fan of mixed groups in training. Newbies with old dogs who needed to accept they needed to learn new tricks, men with women, different departments and teams mingling together and sharing tips. But Steve, for most part, was also a very reasonable man. He did see that there were advantages to training in groups divided according to sex as well. As someone who had spent the bigger part of his fully conscious life in a body more similar to those of women, he was aware that women needed to learn how to use their agility and how to turn the weight and strength advantage of their opponents against them for instance; men, on the other hand, needed times where they would not haveto hold back completely during training in fear of making the match unequal.

Apparently, Steve also believed that men needed to build their strength in a drool-worthy way.

You had lingered after the training session you had with your female colleagues led by the infamous Natasha Romanoff – or Nat, for you – feeling the need for extra stretches. Nat said it was fine and there was an area in the largest gym designated for stretching even as the main area could already be occupied by someone else. The someone else were men, led by Steve and Jack Rollins; you expected no issues.

You did not expect the training session to turn into a drool-fest so fast. But maybe you should have.

The architectonic genius designing the gym must have indeed been a genius, because even as the group of agents and recruits would have been out of your earshot due to the distance, you could hear Steve’s voice clear as day. You refused to believe it was because you were tuned to his gentle and yet commanding timbre he used whenever he switched to the role of a teacher, the role of the Captain.

You listened. You simply couldn’t help it: not only because it was Steve, but because of what he was saying was, in fact, intriguing.

Squats with weights, front lever. One thick iron pole, three people. As he described it, you admittedly couldn’t imagine how that would work.

And then he asked Rollins to help him demonstrate, picking an agent whose name you couldn’t recall to help by performing the front lever, which alone was a feat because of the strong core muscles and arms it required, along with incredible bodily awareness and coordination. At first, you were grateful Steve wasn’t the one showing that, because seeing him control his body so perfectly as he held onto the pole to basically levitate above the ground would send your mind to the gutter real fast.

Your mind ended up in the gutter anyway. Because the two remaining men – Steve and Rollins – were holding the pole on their shoulders while Agent Whatshisname performed his task. Steve already had to be slightly crouched because he was a good foot taller than Rollins, so it was truly difficult for you not to stare. But then… then they made a squat. Using the agent as a damn weight.

The pole rested on Steve’s wide shoulders with ease as it was nothing but a paperweight, the expanse of his back muscles dancing under his white tee. His sweats hugged his defined ass the way your hands itched to. Your stretches were forgotten.

It was just a brief moment, even if generous enough, and then he and Rollins rose to their (almost) full height. And then they repeated the motion just to show off and to test you. You were just a breathing walking mass of bones, flesh, blood and hormones indeed; you felt physically unable to avert your gaze. As for your brain, well. It circled straight to the thought of being stretched in a whole different way.

Being Steve's friend and only think about him as such was truly an impossible task.

“Easy for you, you could probably lift him on your own!” a voice called out from the crowd, clearly referring to Steve and you internally cursed and used all your willpower to snap your gaze away at last, hearing Steve’s chuckle and the murmur of agreement.

Gee, Mr. Mouthy, thanks for that mental image.

“True. But that is not the point,” Steve explained, thanking the agent for assistance in their demonstration. “This is not all about strength. If you're thinking why bother with this when you could simply lift weights...”

More murmurs of agreement followed and you asked yourself the same, for you could have lived without another image added to the collection haunting the better of your sleepless nights.

“This is not an exercise to build strength, not primarily. It's a group exercise. It’s about cooperation. It took us a hot minute too before we could show you. Come here, Agent Stalinski, please. If you didn’t mind, you’d help us demonstrate why.”

Once again, you did not find it in yourself to resist watching them; this time from genuine curiosity. At least this time, you made a point of laying your chest on your knees and only peeking at them for a few seconds, as Agent Stalinski, who seemed to regret his decision to speak up already, obediently walked to the pole. He could have refused, but he clearly didn’t want to look like a chicken – and didn’t want to disrespect Steve. It was never easy to decide and disrespect a kind man without looking like an idiot and feeling that part too. Giving a choice and respecting it was part of Steve’s charm and strength as a leader.

Without another word, Agent Stalinski performed the front lever as Rollins and Steve held the pole.

“If I use all my strength to show off, we'll fail... ready?” Steve said, waiting for Rollins to nod before they squatted.

And then Steve held back his bodily superiority considerably less than before and stood up with vigour.

It was an exhilarating sight; not only because poor Rollins nearly toppled over and even importantly, because Stalinski saved himself half a second before falling on his ass hard, but obviously also because Steve showing off his skills was a treat to watch. More so when he was proving a point; that was always fun.

And your heart could melt when Steve offered Agent Stalinski a hand to help him up, effectively shutting up the cackles that sounded among the other agents with one single glare; because humiliate the agent for mouthing off was not the point.

Goddamn Steve’s golden heart. He truly wasn’t making things any easier for you – and probably half the agency who was in love with him too.

You could hear a smile in his voice when he spoke up again, almost as if he knew.But you, in return, knew he was simply satisfied with proving his point and the agents understanding the task and the goal of the exercise. Understanding that bodily strength wasn’t everything and they needed to believe both in themselves and in each other; like Peggy Carter or Dr.Erskine once believed in him even if others didn’t.

“Like I said. It's about cooperation. One weak link – weak in working with others, not necessarily in bodily strength – and this isn’t going to work. So… let's group up and try."

As the group of agents begun to move around, you returned your full attention to your stretches, breathing in deeply, slowly releasing the air as you felt your muscles cry in both strain and relief. Remaining in position, you closed your eyes, breathing through the slight pull of pain further. You would sleep like a baby tonight; Natasha did not hold back on you, but that was part of the thrill. She pushed you all, but with enough kindness to make it worth it and a lot of more satisfaction when you could see and feel your progress.

You heard the steps as soon as you felt the floor vibrate under you, and your heart involuntarily fluttered. You should truly not be able to recognize Steve’s jog, because that bordered on creepy and obsessive, but you did go running with him quite often so you could blame it on that. At least that was how you reasoned with yourself. It had nothing to do with the fact that your mind tended to gravitate towards him too often, feel his presence, because it felt like first warm sunrays of the approaching summer.

Easing your position, you looked up as he approached you with a slightly bashful smile, a brief sparkle of mischief in his eye.

Before he could even open his mouth, you glanced behind him, noticing the issue and already guessing why he was here with you instead of the trainees.

One agent stayed alone. That meant that either both Steve and Rollins would be in a group with him, leaving the others without proper supervision and assistance or the one agent would be left out. Or you could join them for a bit. The choice of letting Steve use you – for the exercise, as a faceless agent only to even the numbers in an exercise – was a real no-brainer.

Once again, you reasoned that leaving the poor loner without a chance to train would leave you feeling evil when it was no problem for you to help; and it really would, if you were being honest with yourself. If you got to see Steve up close, either working out or directing other agents with his leadership skills, as a bonus, that was simply a nice coincidence, wasn’t it?

Raising your hand with a tired smile and gesturing for him to help you up, his grin widened, pulling you up without a second thought.

“Hey Sparkles,” he hummed gently, squeezing your hand before releasing you. “Could-“

“Sure, GG,” you interrupted him, rolling your shoulders and pretending your heart didn’t skip a beat when his eyebrows rose, one corner of his lips quirking.

“Well, now I’m tempted to ask anything.”

You gulped. It was nothing but a friendly teasing, you knew. But damn if it didn’t make your stomach somersault a bit, if you didn’t think you saw something flash in his eyes.

The thing was, he could ask you anything. And your little foolish heart would probably command you to do it. Especially when he smiled like that as he towered over you, eyes roaming over you with slight concern in his expression.

“Thank you. You don't even have to do the horizontal workout-“ he noted, a genuine worry in his voice as if he didn’t just said the words horizontal workout in a completely different context than you would like him to. He had to know about how you felt about him and was doing this on purpose, wasn’t he? “Just...”

“Be your paperweight?” you suggested cheekily, hopefully masking how the probably unintended innuendo made your face hot.

“I mean-“ You raised eyebrows when he looked as if he was about to deny it. Really? “Well, yes, basically. It’s an important role either way. And I know you could do it, but you already have one session behind you and you were already almost done with your stretches. I understand if you don’t want to undo all of that. So really, any way you’re willing to assist us, we’ll be grateful.”

It truly would have been easier if Steve was only attractive; or only kind, considerate or passionate. But the fact he was all of it was a deadly cocktail you had got addicted rather fast. He was like a magnet, calling out for every part of you and pulling you into his orbit with ease and inevitability. How could you say no to him?

“Sure, whatever. We'll see. But if I’m joining you, I might as well go for the full experience, right?”

Steve smiled at you, a proud edge to the soft curl of his lips, as he beckoned to the agents. The warmth spreading through your body was already well-worth the hard work you had ahead of you.

“Right. Let’s go.”

People who even suspected that they were in love should be stripped of their lawful right to make decisions and be declared temporary insane for the time being. Or maybe that just applied to people in Steve Rogers’ vicinity. That was what you thought of as you wiped the sweat off, feeling your hands trembling minutely with exhaustion.

Of course you had gone for it. You went for the work-out with all you had and maybe even what you didn’t have, but how could you relent for even a second when you had Steve’s proud grin directed straight at you whenever you tried another rep and succeeded at least partially? Your abdomen muscles burned, but when something flashed in his eye, admiration and something you couldn’t quite decipher beyond the emotion being a good one, the pleasant warmth in your belly simply took over and you gritted your teeth once more.

Your body was utterly ruined, all thanks to Steve; and it might not be in all ways you sometimes dreamed about, but the satisfaction it brought you was still well worth it.

The shaking not so much.

The other agents went to run a few laps under Rollins’ command as Steve followed you back to the stretching area, smile all soft and playful even if a little concerned since you walked with a slight wobble. Your core muscles were so overworked that it even affected your ability to walk.

You’d be sore tomorrow; very sore. If there was a chance to prevent at least part of the pain awaiting you in the morning, it was only natural you would take it, right?

That was how you reasoned with yourself. That was how you justified that when Steve’s gentle giant hands carefully took yours with an unspoken question, thumbs pressing into your right forearm just right, you let out the words ‘yes please’ with as little moany quality in your voice as possible.

You must have succeeded, because Steve didn’t seem to notice. If he did, he was polite enough not to mention it. Needless to say that you were grateful you could blame the flush in your face on your previous work-out.

Working his way up your arm in a perfectly collected manner, Steve pressed against the tendons and muscles with precision and well-calculated amount of strength; he wasn’t rough at all, yet he made sure you felt it.

You would bet there were a lot of things which he could make you feel it, but you tried to steer your mind away from the gutter as much as possible. Once again, you blamed your momentary inability to do that more than usual on exhaustion, the lovely visuals you had been offered, and Steve’s more than pleasant touch.

“Thank you, Sparkles. You did amazing,” Steve spoke simply but sincerely, an easy smile on his lips as if his thumbs weren’t kneading the exact spot you needed, flooding your body with the relief you craved; your muscles. Your muscles craved.

Focus.

The gush of wind created by the running agents helped you ground yourself in reality.

You weren’t alone. There was a purpose – a very platonic purpose – to what Steve was doing. He was thanking you for being a good colleague and teammate and it was time again for your brain to switch into that mode. Because there was no romantic mode in your relationship with Steve. There were two people needed for that and if all Steve was offering was his absolutely exquisite friendship, the best-friendship as it seemed to bloom lately, you’d grab it and never let go. Not for anything.

And you’d take a quick massage to your exhausted muscles too.

To sweeten the deal, it felt really good to be praised by Captain America himself. You would be lying if compliments from the Steve Rogers, the ultimate good man, were the only ones that mattered to you; the side to Steve which carried the mantle of the Captain and appreciated you wasn’t exactly something to sneer at, quite on the contrary.

“I didn't want him to feel out if I could help,” you shrugged, earning a slightly scolding look as you moved your shoulders, the arm under Steve’s touch tensing when it was supposed to be relaxed. You grinned apologetically. “And you know you're a good motivator- I mean--- motivational speaker... whatever.”

The gentle rumble of Steve’s chuckle was nothing short of warm even as his grin gained a teasing note.

“Why thank you. I'll consider a career change to a motivational speaker indeed.”

You chuckled too – and instantly regretted it as your belly spasmed minutely, trembling due to the way you overdid the work-out. Steve’s fingers ceased their movements, simply gripping your arm in support. Glancing up, you found his brows furrowed in worry.

Bless the sweet man. But if he was so concerned about your abdomen muscles, maybe he could massage them too- stop.

“Yeah, okay, maybe I pushed myself a bit too much,” you admitted with another chuckle, gritting your teeth to stop the hiss threatening to escape your lips. “Glad I could help. But you mister, are forbidden from making me laugh for the next 48 hours.”

He glanced at the finger you pointed at him with slight offence.

“But I like making you laugh?”

You glanced up on instinct. There was the faintest pout to his lips as your eyes met his and you found yourself on the receiving end of the warmest gaze. His hands were cradling your elbow now – giant and gentle still, thumb brushing over your bicep.

Yes. It was a true shame that Steve’s feelings towards you were merely platonic. Because at this moment, the blue pools of his irises seemed so inviting you’d follow him anywhere, to hell and back; and you knew he’d keep you safe, held your elbow tenderly but firmly when the need would arise and he’d protect your heart too, because Steve Rogers was as much of a fighter as a protector. You already knew as much. You wanted to know even more.

You wanted more. Selfishly and wistfully, you wanted more, especially in moments like this, moments that felt as easy as breathing with him even when your chest felt so full that breathing in seemed difficult – useless. Had he leaned forward, had he taken your lips, you wouldn’t care for oxygen, you’d- stop.

You had to stop and take a cold shower in the evening.

“GG-“

“Cap? What’s next?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Rollins’ howl reached your ears.

Whatever you were about to say died in your throat, whatever your hazed brain planned. You had to admit it was rather satisfactory to see Steve jump a little too, his hands practically dropping your arm and realizing last minute you had obediently left it completely limp and it might hurt. So he gingerly pressed into your bicep two more times, slowly manoeuvring your arm back down, wary of any rapid movements.

“Be right with you!” Steve called back, turning to you with another smile. You probably only imagined the hint of regret and yet; it was a nice feeling to see you’d be missed.

“Well, the crowds call your name, Mr. Motivational Speaker. Thanks for the quick massage, GG.”

“Thank you. Now go get some rest.”

“Yes, sir.”

You cackled at his unamused face when you addressed him as such, quickly replaced by a brief smirk at how you instantly regretted your actions, your belly protesting again. Serves you right, that smirk said, but quickly blended into the signature worried frown.

“Rest, Agent Jones,” he bit back good-naturedly, shooting you one last glance before he jogged back to other agents under his wing.

You watched him retreat, allowing yourself one last indulgence in the form of the glorious view of his back and ass, before you sighed and turned to walk away, the wobble in your step still present. You hoped a hot shower would ease the tension in your abdomen; however, you did not forget about the need for a cold shower either.

You supposed such was the price for being friends with Steven Grant Rogers.

You didn’t mind paying it, more so when you were gaining too.

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did: the evening found you with a knock on your door from your sweet neighbour and a sweet aroma of sugar, cinnamon and apples. Steve stood in your doorway with a slightly bashful but brilliant grin, holding a plate with at least a third of a freshly baked pie that might as well have been prepared by Martha Stewart herself, but was baked by her biggest competition in the baking department.

“Is this allowed or does it fall under don't make me laugh category?” Steve questioned innocently and this time, you remembered to lay your arm over your belly when you laughed a bit, smiling wide, something so painfully soft, gentle and just a little heavy humming in your chest.

“Well, I think this falls into making me smile category, so I'll allow it,” you said, not even pretending you needed to think too hard.

“Good. I like making you smile too.”

The acute feeling in your chest grew – warm, tender and bright – an echo of outrage in your ribcage that Steve could say the words so easily as if they couldn’t be a declaration of love as well as friendship.

“Yeah. I like it too. And same,” you hummed, stepping back to let him in. “Come in, neighbour.”

As you invited him into your apartment, you knew that you were – all over again – inviting him into your heart too.

Maybe that was a dangerous thing to do; but in your line of work, a little danger was an occupational hazard. Of all the risks you could take upon, carrying love for Steve Rogers was one you’d take upon gladly. You’d happily taken the burden; because the weight you’d carry couldn’t be heavier than a paperweight. And even if it was, if that was a weight you were allowed to carry, at least platonically, you’d do so with pride – and with your whole heart.

Because Steve Rogers deserved nothing less.

Steve Rogers masterlist // Love on The Brain masterlist

Saw a video of this specific work out and my mind couldn’t let go of it… and it’s no longer available, sorry 🤐

Re-reading this, I am genuinely shocked they lasted so long and that it took the Love on the Brain case to break them… well, put them together, whatever :)

I hope you enjoyed this little floofy blurb and that autumn is being kind to you 💕

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x you #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #love on the brain vibes #love on the brain #paperweight #anika ann

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