#listen steve just wants to make sure he gets it right!!
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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.
Gossip Is Currency
Prompt Day 21: Formal | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Canon Background Stancy | Tags: Missing Scene from S2's The Pollywog, Post-Halloween "Bullshit" Scene, Pre-Steddie, Platonic Hellcheer, School Sucks, Eddie Knows
This is cruel and unusual punishment.
Eddie sits on the stupid folding chair, behind the stupid folding table, with a stack of tickets to sell to the winter formal. It was this or another suspension, and it was only because he was sure Wayne would not appreciate not having to talk to the principal again anytime soon, that Eddie chose this option.
They've got bubbly cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham sitting next to him controlling the money box that they definitely didn't trust him to be anywhere near, as they try to sell tickets to the kids still roaming around during extracurriculars.
Chrissy hasn't said anything to him after greeting him, and he hasn't said anything in return. They hung out once before, during a middle school talent show, but he doesn't expect that she remembers that.
Another shitty jock walks up.
"Two?" Chrissy asks.
"Yeah," the kid answers, and she takes the money, makes the change, and all Eddie has to do is hand over the two ticket stubs.
He resents it.
It's stupid, it's–
"It's bullshit," he hears from down the hall.
Yeah, it's exactly that.
And hell's frozen over, if he agrees with King Steve.
Harrington's in some sort of heated debate with Wheeler as they stomp down the hallway, bickering back and forth. She's a fucking firebrand, that one. Everyone thinks she's a priss, but oh no, Eddie's studied this whole school long enough to know that's not even remotely true.
Harrington's gonna get knocked down a peg or two under her, and deservedly so.
Seeing them coming in his direction is at least interesting. Eddie tears off the two tickets and hands them over to Tweedle Dumb, and keeps watching the free show heading his way.
"Winter formal tickets?" Chrissy asks Harrington, and Jesus H. Christ, does she have no observation skills? Now is not the time. This is the time to blend into the wall so they can get the dirty fucking details on this fight. Gossip is currency.
Harrington turns to look at them, and shakes his head no. He looks more sad than mad, and that isn't near as fun.
"Steve," Wheeler says, and she looks annoyed.
Harrington runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, and then they're gone.
Well, that was uneventful in the end. He didn't learn anything worth repeating.
Eddie had heard rumors of a Halloween night blow-up, but wasn't there to see it with his own eyes. Apparently they're still in a tiff today.
He can still hear the echo of them around the corner and down the hall, and well, he's nosey. It pays to know everything that's going on in this school.
"Be right back," Eddie says, and follows them down the hall, with the excuse that he's heading to the pop machine.
He digs four quarters out of his pocket, and pretends it's hard to make a decision, before hitting the Mellow Yellow button. The machine whirrs to life, and the can drops down. He feeds the other two quarters in, still trying to listen to Harrington and Wheeler fussing by the double-doors.
Eddie can't really decipher much besides hissing mumbles. Damn.
He presses another button without even really paying attention.
Welch's Grape Soda.
He might actually pick that over the Mellow Yellow he thought he originally wanted.
Harrington and Wheeler leave, so Eddie takes both cans back towards the table, holding them up, an offer, "You want?"
Chrissy smiles, "Really?"
Eddie nods, "You choose," he says, and she falters, just a bit, looking up at him like there might be a wrong answer.
There's no wrong answer here. No trick. He puts them both down on the table, "Totally fine either way."
She reaches for the grape, and is still looking his way. He nods, "Excellent choice," as he picks up the Mellow Yellow, and cracks open the can.
"Thanks, Eddie," she says, like he's given her something more than a can of pop. Carver's a bigger dick than he'd realized, apparently.
They sit in silence, waiting for more kids to finish up with their stupid clubs and practices.
The door clangs closed on the other end of the school, and they wait. It's Harrington again. He crosses the hall intersection in his little shorts, and Eddie can see that he's pinching his nose as he darts out of their line of sight as quickly as he entered.
Then it's just them, alone in the hallway again.
"She called him bullshit," Chrissy whispers.
Eddie turns and looks at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
She does.
"On Halloween. At Tina's party. She called him and his love bullshit. I heard it myself, waiting for the bathroom. She was drunk, not making sense about Barb Holland. It was pretty mean."
"No shit?" he asks, leaning closer.
She nods, giving him a rundown of the whole party. She's got all the good gossip, not just about Harrington and Wheeler's dust up. Eddie feels a twinge of something.
He's well acquainted with being shit on publicly.
Nobody's around this school, and Eddie gets up to go take a piss. He can't sit still. Hates it. And doing it for this is a special version of hell.
He walks down the hall, to the bathroom. He stands in front of the urinal, unzips and is pissing when he hears the stifled cough from behind him.
Eddie turns to look and sees familiar shoes under the stall door.
Tucking himself back in, re-zipping, he reaches over and flushes the urinal.
"Harrington," Eddie says.
He waits and there's no response.
"Harrington," he tries again.
"Go away, Munson," Harrington says, and then mumbles under his breath, "It's bullshit. I'm bullshit."
Eddie takes three steps towards the door, then impulsively turns back.
"She's wrong, you know? You're not bullshit."
And then Eddie waits a beat before adding, "You're just an asshole."
Steve chuckles, and Eddie smiles to himself as he turns and heads out the door.
Timing is everything.
Mission accomplished.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#prompt: formal#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#steddie fan fic#platonic hellcheer#steddie fic#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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steve had spent all day at work. meaning he spent all day masking using his perfectly curated customer service persona. and he was tired. all he wanted to do was go to his dark, quiet house, and curl up in bed.
except he couldn’t.
no of course he couldn’t. he had stupidly made plans weeks ago and stupidly assumed he’d be up for it when the day came. eddie had asked steve to use his place for a hellfire christmas get together and of course steve said yes. but now the day is here and he really wasn’t looking forward to it.
steve drove home from work in silence. just needing the time to recover from the day. he knew he didn’t have much time between work and when people would be at his place but he was hoping it would be enough time to take a breath.
unfortunately, it was not enough time. everyone had shown up about an hour ago and steve was starting to feel the ribbon holding his mask on start to come loose. the group was in the living room listening to christmas music while having a loud and heated debate about something from the last campaign. steve was sat next to eddie on the couch, trying to keep up with what was going on. trying to make the right facial expressions for whatever story was being told to him, trying to make sure he asked enough questions but not too many, trying to appear like everyone else. all that in combination with the music and everyone talking at once and the room was a mess of discarded wrapping paper had steve feeling like he was about to rip off his skin.
normally steve did great in social situations, he was good at mimicking people and listening to what they had to say. but on days where his system was already overwhelmed, he got very overstimulated very quickly. and all he wanted to do was be somewhere quiet and dark.
not wanting to ruin anyone’s festivities he decided to go up to his room, his safe space, to try and get it together. he hadn’t even realized he had been shaking until he reached for the knob to let himself in. after shutting the door to block out the noise steve went to the furthers corner of the room before sliding to the floor with his back against the wall. it made him feel safe and protected from all sides. he began biting at the skin on his nails on one hand while the other was in his hair pulling, trying to pull himself back to reality. he felt like his whole body was on fire. his pants were too tight, his shirt had a tag that he hadn’t noticed before, and he could still hear the rumbling of people on the floor below.
he wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he heard a small knock on the door, “stevie? I’m going to come in because I’m worried about you. okay baby?”
steve didn’t have the energy to respond but he knew eddie was going to come in either way so it didn’t really matter. eddie opened the door before quickly and quietly closing it, making his way over to where steve and quietly speaking, “hey sweetheart. what’s going on?”
steve couldn’t respond, still feeling too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought. instead he let out a small defeat whine because it’s the only sound his body would allow him to make. suddenly steve felt eddie grab his hands, entangling their fingers together. it was grounding but he still felt jittery and like he needed to get the movement out somehow so he began rocking side to side. he closed his eyes because making eye contact with eddie right now is way too much for him.
this caused eddie to softly say, “yeah baby that’s okay. i just don’t want you hurting yourself sweetheart.” eddie started to softly rock along with steve as to not hinder steve’s movements with their hand holding.
they sway for awhile longer while steve takes some deep breaths before stopping his movement, hands still intwined with eddie’s. he then opens his eyes to look at eddie before saying a whispering a quiet, “sorry.”
“oh sweetheart,” eddie cooed. “you never have to apologize for something like this, it’s not your fault. i just want to make sure you’re okay. can we get you off the floor and over to the bed?”
steve was so exhausted he could only nod in reply to eddie’s question. eddie stands first, and with their hands still connected, steve allows himself to be pulled up off the floor. once steve is sitting in bed eddie grabs him some comfy pants to slide on instead of jeans, and tells steve to take his shirt off since eddie knows it will make steve feel like he can breathe better.
once he was changed and comfy steve spoke up again, “eds? will you—will you hold me?”
“yeah sweetheart of course i will.” eddie gently replies as he arranges himself. he sits with his back against the pillows and allowed steve to wrap himself around eddie’s torso, with his head on eddie’s chest.
after letting out a sigh of comfort as he felt eddie’s fingers in his hair steve felt the need to say something, “thank you eds. i really appreciate you taking care of me and not judging. you make me feel safe.”
“you know you’ll always be safe with me baby. i will always take care of you just like you always take care of me. i wish you had told me you were having a bad day stevie, i could’ve helped you sooner.”
“i didn’t want you to worry. plus i didn’t want to ruin your party. oh my god the party! is everyone still downstairs? did i ruin everything?” steve began to panic.
“no need to stress sweetheart i already took care of it.”
“does that mean you kicked everyone out and i ruined your party?”
“no of course not! i just told dustin i was coming to check on you and if i wasn’t back in an hour to get clear everyone out. we had already done all the stuff we had planned lovey, we were just down there shooting the shit. i promise you didn’t ruin anything. now go ahead and rest I’m sure you’re exhausted right now. we can talk more about it later.” eddie sealed his statement with a kiss to the top of steve’s head.
“okay. love you eds.”
“love you too baby. now get some rest i’ll be here when you wake up.”
#tw for steve experiencing overstimulation#steve x eddie#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#autistic steve harrington#neurodivergent eddie munson
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steddie roleplay but steve keeps breaking character by whispering to ask for direction
eddie: youre taking my cock so well, baby���are you sure it’s your first time?😏
steve: yeah, youre my first🥺
…[whispering] wait am i still pretending to be a virgin or were you wanting me to—
#cowboythighs#steddie#listen steve just wants to make sure he gets it right!!#he’s not sure if eddie dropping hints that he wants to switch things up or if steve’s supposed to stick to the plan!!#he’s trying!!#and eddie’s trying his best to be patient and stay in the moment#bc it’s cute#but also definitely defeating the whole point of rp😅
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Just in case Trump wins:
right after Trump was elected in 2016, suicidality skyrocketed. If you’re considering suicide in the wake of the election this year, at least wait until after it’s absolutely certain that he’s won - after every vote has been counted, every state certified, and maybe even after he’s been sworn in (IF he wins), just to make sure he doesn’t go to prison instead. Watch the results come in live here, but don’t obsess or let them sway your vote. (To be clear, I don’t want a single person to commit suicide over the election results, no matter what. But I know from experience that “don’t do it” is thoroughly unhelpful, so instead I’m saying at least wait.)
if you’re considering suicide because you fear worsening material conditions, you might think a hotline can’t help with that. and it’s true that they can’t change legislation or promise you’ll be safe. but it’s worth double checking whether what you’re actually hurting from is in fact unfixable. right now, just getting through the emotions can help you regain a more objective view of the situation, and then you can work on surviving it. plus, when something bad happens, we tend to vastly overestimate how bad it will seem in the future, no matter how bad it actually is.
In my experience, it might take a few tries before you find a hotline that picks up, either because they’re so busy, or they’re closed at that time, or they simply don’t serve your location or demographic, so under the thingy I’ve listed more than just the same handful that tend to show up on other websites. Even if you’re not actively suicidal, you can talk to them about your hard feelings, ask for material resources, or just vent to a compassionate listener.
FIND HELP
HopeLine - call/text: 877-235-4525
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline - call/text: 988 | chat
Crisis Text Line - text HOME to 741741 | chat
help getting out of the military
for underrepresented adults:
Thrive Lifeline - text THRIVE to 313-662-8209
for pre-teens, teens, and young adults:
Your Life Your Voice - call: 800-488-3000 | text VOICE to 20121 | email
for teens (limited hours):
Teen Line - call: 800-852-8336 | text TEEN to 839863 | email
for trans and questioning people:
Trans Lifeline - call: 1-877-565-8860
for people with substance dependency:
Never Use Alone Overdose Prevention Hotline - call: 877-696-1996
for BIPOC (“with an LGBTQ+ Black Femme Lens”):
BlackLine - call: 1-800-604-5841
for college students of colour:
The Steve Fund Crisis Text Line - text STEVE to 741741
for LGBTQ+ young people:
The Trevor Project - call: 1-866-488-7386 | text START to 678678 | chat
for homeless or runaway youth:
National Runaway Safeline - call/text: 1-800-786-2929 | (has chat and email, but I think the link includes tracking)
for Muslim youth (limited hours):
Naseeha Youth Hotline - call: 1-866-627-3342
Amala Hopeline - call: 1-855-952-6252
for Jewish queer youth (warmline, may take up to 24 hours to reply):
JQY Warmline - call/text: 551-579-4673
for veterans:
Veterans Crisis Line - call: 988, option 1 | text: 838255 | chat
for veterans and their families:
Lifeline for Vets - call: 888-777-4443
for pregnant people:
Crisis Pregnancy Hotline - call: 888-628-3353 | text: 714-448-8323
for parents unsure of their ability to care for a newborn:
National Safe Haven Alliance - call: 888-510-2229 | text SAFEHAVEN to 313131
International Council for Helplines Member Organisations
Warmlines - for emotional support, if you just need to talk; a lower level of support than crisis hotlines
NAMI Helpline directory
Key warmline directory (unclear if 317-550-0060 might also be a warmline, I haven’t tried it)
Wildflower Alliance Peer Support Line (limited hours) - call: 888-407-4515
#us politics#us elections#tw sui ideation#suicideprevention#mental health#crisis hotline#resources#info
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They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.
Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.
The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.
To Metallica.
And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.
"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.
Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."
"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.
"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"
He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.
"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.
"Well, Dio's pretty okay."
This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.
---
Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.
"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.
Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"
He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.
"You want chips?" He asks.
"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.
"What?"
"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."
And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.
"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"
Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--
"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."
"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."
He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.
---
"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.
"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.
"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.
"Wha--huh?" He blinks.
"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."
"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.
Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.
"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.
"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.
Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.
---
Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.
He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.
Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.
A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.
---
It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.
There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."
He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"
Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"
Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."
"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"
"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."
"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."
Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."
"Of course. It's just--this is just you."
He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."
"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.
He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.
The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"
"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."
He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."
"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.
He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."
"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.
He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.
It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.
"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.
"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.
"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"
Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."
"Yeah?"
"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."
"Well, stick around for a while."
Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#fluff#friends to lovers#domestic fluff#getting together#feelings confession#pre-relationship domesticity#post-canon#love builds in the quiet moments#bed sharing#clothes sharing#songwriter eddie munson#steve and wayne are besties#steve and wayne use baseball lingo
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(Im)Patiently Waiting
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader
Summary: Bucky is trying to patiently wait for your call.
Word Count: Over 1.4k
Warnings: Fluff, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and already whipped, okay?)
A/N: Continuing with Moving in Slow Motion and Heart and Home, the phone call! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky looked down at the phone in his hand. He was never the kind of guy to constantly check his device, but he hadn’t stopped looking at it since he met you. Hell, he checked it while he was still at the museum, hoping for a text or something so he’d have your number, too. He didn’t think it was possible to become whipped so fast, but life still surprised him.
He sighed when the screen went dark. Why hadn’t you called yet? Maybe he came on too strong? He didn’t think he had. Were you just busy? Probably. You had an adorable daughter who needed you love and attention and-
“Bucky!”
His head snapped up to find Steve, his best friend and second-in-command, staring at him. He didn’t look impressed and pursued his lips more when Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t hear a damn word I said, did you?”
“No,” he replied, not bothering to lie. “Was I supposed to be listening, punk?”
“Yeah, you were, jerk.” Steve ran a hand through his golden hair, plopping down in his chair. “Still hasn’t called yet?”
“Not yet,” he said, setting the phone on the desk in front of him.
“I’m sorry.”
Bucky sighed again, staring off at the books that lined one of the walls of his office. He didn’t divulge much of his personal life to others. It was safer that way, to both protect himself and the people he cared about. But meeting you and your daughter, he told Steve and their small circle all about it. How Sweet Pea bumped into him and his heart melted. How seeing you set his heart on fire.
They were stunned to say the least and were naturally curious about you since you caught his attention. Each of them offered in some way to do their research on you and make sure there was nothing suspicious or dangerous about you, but he refused. His gut instinct told him all he needed to know.
“You know,” Steve began, pulling his attention back. “We can get you her number if-”
He cut him off with a glare. “I already said no,” he growled, taking a breath. He wasn’t going to snap at his best friend. “I’m doing this the right way.”
Bucky was powerful, extremely powerful, but he wouldn’t use his influence over you. It wouldn’t be right. His hands were dirty as it was, and this could be his chance to have something pure.
With his hands up in surrender, Steve nodded. “Sorry. I just… I haven’t seen you like this before and you haven’t even gone on a date with her yet,” he smiled a little. “She must be something special.”
Bucky smiled a little, too. “She is,” he whispered. Things that didn’t make sense before did after he looked in your eyes.
“Yelena will be the judge of that,” the blonde winked.
“Yelena will take one look at Sweet Pea and declare that she’s her aunt,” Bucky teased, both of them chuckling.
If Bucky’s group taught him anything, it was that blood wasn’t always thicker than water. Friends were the family he got to choose. He would defend and protect them with his life. He imagined you were like that with your daughter, perhaps even more.
Who defended and protected you?
A ring echoed in the office and Bucky stared at the device as it lit up. He held his breath when a phone number popped up with no name. His gaze flickered to Steve as it kept ringing. Was it you?
Steve stared back at him like he had grown two heads. “What the hell are you waiting for? Answer it!”
Clearing his throat, he waved for his friend to go, who did so quickly. If it was you, he didn’t want anyone eavesdropping. If it wasn’t you, he didn’t want any witnesses when his face fell.
Releasing his breath, he finally quietly answered, “This is Bucky.”
“Hi, Bucky,” you spoke on the other end, stating your name as well. He slumped in his chair at the sound of your voice, his heart skipping a beat. It was really you. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at the science museum.”
“Of course, I remember you. You and Sweet Pea.” He couldn’t forget either of you if he tried and he didn’t want to. Did you think of him as much as he thought of you? “How are you two doing? Did she win the contest?”
“We’re doing just fine. She keeps talking about the museum and wants to go back, but no word if she won the contest or not.” He could hear the smile in your voice and it put a smile on his face, too. “How are you?”
“I’m doing just fine,” he replied, getting up and heading to the sofa so he could relax a bit more. He was better than fine since he was talking to you.
“Sorry it took me a bit to call you.”
Should he admit that he kept checking his phone in anticipation? “No, no. You don’t need to apologize,” he said. You didn’t owe him an explanation either. Whether you were busy with Sweet Pea or you didn’t want to call right away, that was your business. “I’m just glad you called.”
“I am, too.” There was silence on the other end. “So, I, um…” Your nervous giggle was beautifully endearing. “God, I’m really out of practice with this.”
“Practice with what exactly?” he smiled, laying back and looking at the ceiling. He wondered if you were sitting on a sofa, too. Or maybe you were in bed, comfortable, unwinding.
“Talking, I guess. At least with someone outside of work or parenting.” There was that giggle again. He wanted that sound on a loop. “I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Why don’t you start with what you did today?” he suggested.
“That might bore you.”
“I don’t think anything you could say could possibly bore me,” he sincerely said. If you decided to pick up a phone book and read it to him, he’d listen. But he was genuinely interested in your day. The little things would help him get to know you better and build more of that connection, both with who you were as a mother and as a person.
“Okay, but only if you tell me about your day, too,” you said.
“Now my day might bore you,” he chuckled. He wouldn’t start anything with you built on a lie about what he did, but he had to be careful with the truth.
“Mmm. I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a boring kind of guy.”
“Oh, I’m not boring,” he smirked. He would love to show you just how thrilling he could be some time. “But my day might be.”
“Try me,” you smiled.
“Can I ask you something before we talk about our ‘boring’ days?”
“Yeah, anything,” you answered.
Butterflies filled his stomach. Jesus, he was nervous. When was the last time anything made him feel nervous? “Would you like to get a drink with me?”
The pause on your end didn’t soothe his nerves. “A drink?” you repeated, your voice smaller than before. He detected uncertainty, like when he offered you his number.
“Yeah. Coffee at a cafe or wine at a nice restaurant, whatever you want,” he replied, exhaling slowly. He didn’t want to mess up your schedule or over complicate anything for you. “What do you say?”
Bucky stared down the barrel of a gun more than once in his life. He experienced torture. Had come close to death. Waiting for your answer was a different kind of torment. It would either be a killing blow or his saving grace.
“I’d love to get a coffee with you,” you stated, allowing him to properly breathe again. He wanted to pump his fist in the air. “Tomorrow, maybe? Unless that’s too soon. Is it too soon?”
“No, no, that’s great,” he smiled. He couldn’t stop smiling. Even if wasn’t free tomorrow, he’d clear his schedule. “Give me the time and place and I’ll be there.”
“Great.” The uncertainty was long gone. “There’s a cafe not too far from me. I can text you the place and time.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, and he wouldn’t be late. “Now… tell me about your day.”
He was going to soak up every single word until he saw you in the morning.
You called! He's whipped! You have a date! I still need to name this AU. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes x single mom!reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#bucky barnes x fem!reader#x reader#sweet pea 🫛#bucky barnes fic#winter soldier#bucky barnes fluff
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baby daddy!eddie x mom!reader
cw: smut, non established relationship, best friend!eddie as well, idiots in love
wc: 3.8k
Closing the door as gently as he could, Eddie tip toed down the hall of the trailer and rounded into the kitchen to get himself a beer. He’d played hard enough with Autumn that she could barely keep her eyes open through her bath, but that also meant he wore himself out in the process. So after cracking open a can, he plops his ass down and turns on the TV, ready to chill until he passes out on the couch.
Well, that was the plan. Just as he got comfortable, there was a small knock on the trailer door. With a frustrated sigh, Eddie jumps back up, mumbling something about people coming to his house so late at night.
“Listen, I’ve told you all I don’t fucking deal anymore—Woah!”
Instead of some annoying kids looking for weed, Eddie was met with your sniffling nose and tear stained cheeks. He immediately went into best friend mode, wrapping you in a big hug and letting you get those emotions out.
After some crying and a soaked shoulder later, you finally peel yourself away from Eddie and attempted to talk, but only babbling came out.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Eddie says, thumbs rubbing the tops of your shoulders. “Just calm down and tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”
You shook your head, doing your best to compose yourself.
“He-he-he g-got mar-married,” you hiccup out.
Eddie blinks at you. He knows exactly what you were talking about. Dustin told him back when that Harrington met a girl about 6 months ago and apparently they hit it off right away. The last thing he wanted to do was tell you about her considering your long time pining for him Especially considering he’s the reason Harrington would never ask you out. But you ended up finding out on your own, and devastated couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt.
It seemed soon in Eddie’s opinion, granted he would marry you tomorrow if you would say yes. When Dustin told him that he was going to be the best man that the wedding, Eddie had mixed feelings. He knew that it would kill you when you found out. That you’d react exactly as you were now.
Actually, you’re doing a little better than he anticipated.
“He came into the store and,” you blew your nose into the toilet paper he grabbed for you, “and I saw the ring on his finger when he was getting his money out of his wallet.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.
“They haven’t even known each other that long! He’s such an idiot…”
“I’ve been trying to tell you that,” Eddie jokes, rolling his eyes.
“Oh god, what if--do you think it’s because she’s pregnant?”
Eddie’s pretty sure Dustin would have told him if that was the reason why, but it’s not an unreasonable guess.
“I don’t know, could be? Or maybe Steve Harrington is just an idiot like you said. And maybe they’ll be divorced by this time next year. Who knows, right?”
You sighed, leaning into Eddie and resting your head against him. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset. He was never going to ask me out anyway. No one wants a young single mom. Steve has his whole life to do what he wants, why would he be with someone who has so much baggage?”
“Hey, don’t say that about Audy,” Eddie scolds.
“No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” you correct, “I was talking about myself. I’d never be with someone who didn’t accept Autumn. Even Steve Harrington. I just…I’m damaged goods, Eddie.”
Eddie could feel himself getting upset but didn’t want to make things worse right now, so he took a few breathes to steady himself. He said your name sternly, pulling your full attention to him.
“I don’t like it when you say things like that. It makes me feel like it’s my fault--”
“Eddie,” you stop him before he can get another word out, “You know that you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve told you before that if I was going to get pregnant right out of high school with anyone that I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else but you.”
Eddie knows this, and he feels the same. But it’s not what he wants.
Even though it was all a total accident, he hoped that night the two of you spent together was going to be the next step for both of you. And even though he was scared after you told him with tears in your eyes then that he had gotten you pregnant, he wished with all his might that it would bring the two of you closer together.
Which it did in a way. Obviously the two of you would be bound together for the rest of your lives, but it wasn’t in the way he wanted. You still were head over heels for Steve, and there was no way Eddie could even compare to the king.
“Yeah…I know.” He says somberly. Your brows pinch, making him worried he should have said something else.
Then your expression changed. You looked at him intensely for a moment, before your eyes became lidded and…were you leaning in?
Eddie thought fast, making a quick decision to put his hand over your mouth, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes go wide as dinner plates, tears perching on your waterline as what hot embarrassment washes over you.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, suddenly regretting everything. This could have been his chance and he was an idiot.
You pull his hand from his mouth, sitting in silence for a moment before you begin to laugh. It catches Eddie off guard and he freezes.
“Eddie, I should be the one apologizing,” you say with giggles. “I’m the one who was stupid enough to try and kiss her best friend for a second time. We both know what happened the first time and the last thing we need is history to repeat itself.”
Eddie still felt conflicted. Your tone wasn’t sitting right with him, like there was some level of self depreciation in your words.
After a moment you stop laughing. Your face warps into worry as you stand from the couch.
“I-I need to go—“
“No, wait!” Eddie stands to grab your wrist before you could run away. He pulls you into him and hugs you tightly to him. You stand still before slowly wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt in your hands.
“Listen, I know you’re going through a lot emotionally right now, but…I’m here for whatever you need. Even if…” He trails off for a moment, knowing that he’s just going to hurt himself if he lets you use him. But he can’t turn you away when you need him. He’d rather you take advantage of his feelings than run off to someone else who would hook up with you without second thought.
“Even if it means crossing a boundary that we’ve already crossed before.”
Eddie feels you press into him harder, face buried in his chest. And when you look up at him, Eddie thinks he could melt into a puddle and let you mold him to however you’d like.
“I don’t think I should make any rash decisions right now,” you say with a sniffle. “I think I just need to clear my head. Let myself rot in my own misery instead of dumping it all on you.”
“Or,” Eddie says with a smile, “you could rot with me. I rented some movies and some beers in the fridge that have your name on them. I think we have some leftover pizza still, too.”
Your smile was so bright it was comparable to the sun rising. There was nothing in the world that could keep him down as long as you were happy. Eddie probably would have dropped out of school after his second failure if you hadn’t simply smiled at him and told him that he would graduate next year, for sure. He probably only did because you smiled at him every time he got a good grade.
The way you hugged him for a long time after a report card with no F’s on it kept Eddie’s head in the zone that last school year. And, well, the way your body felt under his when he finally graduated…
Eddie shook his head, wracking his brain for anything to keep his mind from thinking about that night right now. There’s no way him getting a boner while you were still holding on to him so tight would be good.
“I think that sounds like a good idea,” you finally say after staring up at him for several beats. But Eddie caught the somber look in your eyes. It was going to take a lot of distracting to get you in a good head space.
“You know, I think we might still have some popcorn, too.”
After a few drinks, some weed, and a movie and a half later, Eddie finds himself waking up on his couch at some point after falling asleep. The bright, staticy screen causes him to squint his eyes, turning his head enough to bump his chin against the top of your head.
Eddie looks down at where you’re leaning into his side. He vaguely remembers wrapping an arm around you before the two of you had succumbed to sleep. It pains him to possibly wake you but the urge to pee is what startled him awake in the first place, so he does his best to untangle himself from you and sneaks to the bathroom.
On the way back to the couch, Eddie decided to stop in his room and grab a blanket for the two of you. But when he returns, he finds you sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
“Hey,” you croak out, looking at him with squinted eyes.
“Hey,” he whispers back. “I brought us a blanket.”
You stretch before standing up from the couch. “I should probably head home, Eddie.”
“Sweetheart its,” he leans to check the time on the microwave, “3 in the morning.”
Your eyes go wide, hands running over your face. “It is? Fuuuuck.”
“Just stay,” Eddie says, walking over to you and wrapping you up in the blanket. You groan, feeling conflicted on if you should stay and sleep on Eddie’s couch or if you should brave the drive home.
“Hey, if you stay, you don’t have to drive all the way over here to get Fae in the morning.”
“Ugh, okay you got me,” you say, giving in. You sit back down on the couch and start to make yourself comfortable.
“Wait, you can sleep in my bed. Promise I don’t bite.”
That took less convincing as you pop back up, dragging the blankets behind you as you wobble to Eddie’s room. Eddie laughs as you plop into his bed, stealing one of his pillows to make yourself comfortable.
“Hey save some room for me,” he says, walking around to the other side to climb in. He lays next to you, adjusting in an obnoxious manner that has you giggling. You turn to face him and he does the same.
“I love you,” you say at the tail end of a giggle. It’s something said frequently between the two of you. Genuine as it’s spoken after years of friendship.
“Love you, too,” Eddie says with a sigh. Sleep soon takes you both over again. The only sounds that can be heard is the sound of the a/c doing its best to cool down the trailer.
Eddie felt himself waking once again, this time much more comfortably in his own bed. He yawned, shaking a bit as the feeling of waking overcame his body.
The sun peaking through the cracks of his curtains gave the room just enough light that he could see the room with a slight glow. Turning his head, he chanced to see if you were still laying with him. He had a dream that you’d left with Autumn and ran away with Steve that left a sick feeling in his stomach.
Much to his delight you were indeed still occupying the bed with him. Smiling wide as you looked at him, already awake where you lay.
“Mornin’,” he says in his morning voice, and your eyes flicker.
“Morning,” you squeak back. As Eddie turns to face you, your hand finds its way out from under the covers and reaches out towards him. Your fingers gently glide across his cheek, rubbing against the stubble as you push his hair out of his face.
The way you’re looking at him has Eddie’s tummy feeling funny, but in a different way from his dream. You’re looking at him the same way he looks at you.
Suddenly, you push yourself up on your arm, hand still on his cheek as you start to lean in once again. Eddie’s heart beats hard against his chest as you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss.
It lasts a few moments, and Eddie melts into it. It was a kiss like none he’s ever had before. Not even compared to the last time the two of you kissed before Autumn was born. This kiss felt like a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter morning, the warmth spreading to every part of his body as he drank you in.
When you pulled away, Eddie chased after you, not wanting it to end so soon unknowing if it would ever happen again. When you don’t kiss him again, his eyes finally open to meet yours. They’re bouncing everywhere, scanning his face as if looking for an answer written on his skin.
“Eddie…”
But Eddie doesn’t let you ponder much longer, hand snaking around your head to pull you into him once more. This time more feverishly, the heat palpable between the two of you.
You shift so that you can bury your hands in his hair, and Eddie takes advantage of this to move himself above you. Eddie kisses you into the pillow beneath you, long kisses turning into passionate smacking, poking the fire that was burning between you.
“Tell me to stop,” Eddie says as his lips begin to move down your cheek and to your neck. He says your name breathily, “Tell me now, because I won't be able to stop once this starts.”
“I-I can’t. I won’t,” you stutter, hands grabbing at his waist as he kisses and nips at your neck. Eddie breathes against you, body alight knowing that you wanted this as much as him.
“But,” you say, stopping him in his tracks. You give him a coy smile, nodding towards the door. “You better make it quick. You know she’ll wake up at any moment.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Don’t gotta tell me twice. Better get to work then.”
Eddie suddenly lifts the blanket above the both of you and disappears underneath it. Soft kisses leave a trail from your knees to the apex between them. Eddie slips his fingers in the hem of the sleep pants he let you borrow, pulling them down with your panties in one quick motion. There was barely any light to see, so he decided to just dive in tongue first.
He ate you out like a man starved. Your thighs try hard to wrap around him as he works you up on his tongue, but his strong arms hold you open for him. Eddie groans at the way your fingers grip his hair, tugging just enough to burn so good against his scalp.
Once he added fingers, you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself quiet. It was like Eddie knew exactly what you liked, because not long after you were coming undone, riding his face as you did.
Eddie crawls up your body, head resting between your breasts as he pokes out from under the covers.
“Jesus, Eddie,” you pant, looking at him in awe.
“And that’s not even the best part,” he teases, making you roll your eyes at him. You grab his face and bring him closer to you, tasting yourself on his lips as you kiss him again.
Eddie rolls his hips subconsciously, and you can feel how hard he is as he grinds against you. You want to say you also forgot how big he was, but it’s something you didn’t want to admit you thought about often.
Your hand travels between you, fingers trailing against his skin as you reach the hem of his boxers. Slipping under it, you feel your way to his hard cock, taking it in your hand to pump him. He whines against your lips, hips moving faster in your grip. You watch with awe struck eyes as his beautiful face contorts in pleasure above you.
“Please,” he pants out as he fucks your hand, “Wanna be inside you. Can I?”
You nod silently, unbelievably turned on by your best friend for the second time now.
He works fast pulling his boxers off quickly, a loud thwaping coming from his cock smacking against his stomach after getting caught on the waistband. Your eyes go wide as you take in his size.
After almost 2 years you’re still shocked at what Eddie Munson is packing. Those dumb ass cheerleaders that picked the bone head jocks over him have no idea what they missed out on.
Eddie settled himself between your legs, spitting on his own cock to get it good and wet before rubbing it in your soaked folds. You had a moment of clarity, realizing that Eddie wasn’t wearing a condom. You opened your mouth to speak, but your words got caught up in a moan as Eddie pushed his way inside of you.
The stretch took your breath away. Eddie seesawed his way into your tight cunt, opening you up on his cock until he was balls deep inside of you. He placed his hands on either hip and started moving, holding you tight as he worked up his pace.
Every thrust felt like too much and not enough at the same time. The constant knocking against your sweet spot had you seeing stars quickly, still worked up from him eating you out. The pretty sounds that Eddie was making wasn’t helping either, but you still had enough mind to shush him so that he wouldn’t wake your daughter.
Eddie’s pace quickens, and he makes the fatal mistake of adding his thumb to the mix. It only throttles you to the edge for a second time this morning. It’s not much longer before your vision goes white, toes curling as your orgasm takes over. It's probably the hardest you’ve cum in a long time.
“Oh, fuck.”
You barely registered Eddie’s words, but you definitely felt the reason behind his curses. Eddie was cumming deep inside you, balls emptying into your pussy as you were still riding out your own orgasm.
In the moment it felt amazing, but the post orgasm bliss left you crashing as you realized the very real situation you were both in.
Eddie felt himself being pushed by you, taking him out of his own high as he stumbled back on his ass. As you open your mouth to speak, Eddie is hit with a wave of deja vu with every word.
“Did you fucking cum in me?” The words came out in slow motion and Eddie’s body broke out in cold sweat.
“I-I’m sorry. I was going to pull out, I just—“
“What? You forgot? Are you kidding me Eddie? Do you not remember what happened the last time?”
Right on cue, your daughter's whines could be heard from across the hall. You sigh, kicking the covers completely away from you and grabbing the pajama pants you had back on.
“Listen, I really am sorry,” Eddie says, looking at you with big, sad eyes. You groan, unable to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that.
“What are we going to do then, Eddie?” You ask him, walking out of his bedroom to get your daughter.
Eddie sits on the bed for a moment and thinks. He knows that you getting pregnant again while Autumn’s only and a half isn't ideal. Not that you being pregnant is ideal anyway, but honestly Eddie wouldn’t be mad about it.
He was so head over heels for both you and Autumn that he doesn’t hate the idea of another person to love is the worst thing. But he’s also not the one doing all the hard work. And if it wasn’t obvious the first time that having a kid wouldn’t fix any problems, then having a second would probably not make much of a difference in your feelings towards him.
The door opens again and Eddie watches as you enter with a squealing toddler on your hip, clearly happy to see both mommy and daddy.
“Morning, sweet girl,” Eddie cooes, scooping his baby up and smothering her with kisses, sending Autumn into a fit of giggles.
“I went ahead and changed her. If you want to dress her I’ll make breakfast.”
Eddie gave you a quick salute as you went to the kitchen, leaving him and your mini me to get ready for the day. It took a lot of wrestling but he was able to get the little one dressed, including hair done, and looking presentable for the day.
Fixing her up in her highchair, Eddie sat at the small kitchen table and breathed a sigh of relief. You shook your head at his theatrics, setting breakfast down for the both of them.
“Hey, I was thinking,” Eddie said, spooning some applesauce into Autumn’s mouth. “After we eat, why don’t I follow you to the pharmacy and we can pick you up a Plan B?”
You quirk an eyebrow in amusement. “You have Plan B money this time?”
“Ha ha,” Eddie laughs dryly at your reference to the last time you had sex, the both of you freaking out over having no money. Thankfully Eddie was able to get a good job at Hawkins Auto Body when you got pregnant. He makes pretty good money now considering he was able to get his own trailer. Money is still tight, but he can manage.
“Fine, better eat up then, or else you’re gonna have two mouths to feed instead of one.”
Eddie looks at your daughter, spitting image of him, besides your nose, and smiles. Maybe now isn’t the right time, but…maybe one day.
#eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#dad!eddie munson#baby daddy!eddie#baby daddy!eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x mom!reader#dad!eddie x mom!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson!fluff#eddie munson!angst
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tying you to me
Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.
Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader
Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 5.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.
“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.
“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”
Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”
“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”
“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.
“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”
He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…
“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”
“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”
“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”
“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.
“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”
“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”
Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”
“Night...”
*
The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.
You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.
“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”
“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.
Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”
You shake your head weakly.
“Look, I-”
“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”
You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”
The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.
“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.
What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?
“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”
“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”
“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”
“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”
You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.
“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”
“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”
“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”
“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”
“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”
Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”
“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”
“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”
“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”
You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.
“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.
He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.
“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”
“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.
He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...
“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”
“Then what is it?” You're confused.
“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.
“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”
“I... I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Deal with this... with you.”
“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”
“I just... struggle with change.”
“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.
“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”
“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”
“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”
You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”
“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”
You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”
“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”
“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.
“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”
Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.
“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”
“W-what? No!”
“No?”
“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”
You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?
“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”
Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.
But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.
“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.
He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.
You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.
“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”
He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.
“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.
“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”
He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.
You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.
“For you. This is all for you.”
Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!
“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.
“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as he tries to pull them together.
“James!”
But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.
You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.
He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.
You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.
“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.
He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.
“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.
“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.
“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”
You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.
“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.
“You didn’t take them off.”
“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”
You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.
“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”
You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.
“James-”
“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”
You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”
Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.
“Good boy.”
That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:
“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”
“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”
That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.
He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents prosthetic hand.
“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”
Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.
“You got a kink for my arm now?”
“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.
When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.
“You shave,” you say, surprised.
“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”
You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.
You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.
“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.
“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“W-what?”
“Hands behind your back.”
“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.
“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”
No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.
You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.
He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.
“Too tight?”
“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.
“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”
You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.
“Words, please.”
“Yes, James.”
“Good girl.”
You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...
You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.
“Are you clean? Anything-”
“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”
You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.
“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.
“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”
You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?
You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.
“Won’t the neighbor mind?”
“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”
You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!
“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”
You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.
He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.
“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.
“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”
“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”
“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”
“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”
You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”
You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.
“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”
He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.
That hot ass…
“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”
And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.
“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”
He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.
You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.
“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”
You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.
“J-James...”
He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.
“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.
“Barnes, you’re heavy!”
His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.
Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.
“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.
After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.
“Gonna buy some cream.”
You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”
Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”
“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.
“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.
“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”
He doesn’t laugh.
“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”
“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.
“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”
“Put it on, it’s freezing.”
“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.
“On.”
“Fine!”
He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”
You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.
“Really?”
“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”
You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”
“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”
“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”
You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”
“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
“Me.”
“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”
“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfic#boss!bucky barnes#boss!bucky#ceo!bucky barnes#ceo!bucky#rich!bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader smut#sebastian stan#marvel#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction
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hiiii if you’re still looking for remus centered requests, i rly liked your best friend steve giving reader a hickey and couldn’t help but think of Remus too! like him helping a shy reader not feel insecure about being the ‘inexperienced’ one of their friend group… by giving her some experience 👀💞? love ya lots!
love u thank u for requesting<3
—Remus gives you your first kiss, and then a little more than that. You know, between friends. fem, 1.2k
“Will anyone kiss me tonight, or shall I go unkissed, like some leper?”
You laugh at Sirius’ drama. “It’s not so terrible,” you say, coming up the hallway behind him and James, your face bitten by the cold.
“I know, my lovely little blueberry muffin,” Sirius croons, leaning back and prodding at your cheeks, the smell of cider stuck to him like a cloud, “how you remain unkissed is a mystery to me. Shall we fix that now?”
Sirius is your friend, he doesn’t poke fun, but you flush nervously at his question. James grabs Sirius by the shoulders and yanks him away from you toward the kitchen, “Stop teasing!”
“I’m not teasing! I would love to kiss you, sweetheart, just as soon as I can figure out which one of you is the real one,” Sirius says.
Remus laughs and closes the front door, the last one in. He wraps his hand around your shoulders. “He’d be so lucky,” he says loudly, sending a sulking, pouting Sirius in the opposite direction, James on his tail in giggles promising to feed him some unbuttered toast if he doesn’t chill out.
Remus’ arm falls behind your back. “Why does he act like that? Four drinks and he’s in love with everyone. He gets so urgent.”
You confess slowly, “I can’t say I blame him. Sometimes… I wish someone would kiss me quite urgently, and I don’t even need to get drunk.”
“You do?”
“Just because I’ve never had one doesn’t mean I don’t want one,” you say, “it’s really weird being the only one who doesn’t– who isn’t dating anyone.” You fluster at your confession, worried it’s too much to share, even while his thumb rubs affectionately into your shoulder.
“I’m not dating anyone,” Remus says.
“No, but, going for hookups and stuff–”
You falter as he laughs. “You want one night stands?”
“No,” you say honestly, “but still. You’ve all done that stuff and I’m like, a twenty something loser.”
“You listen to Sirius too much. You have an entire life to find someone to kiss you.”
“I sort of want it now, though,” you say meekly.
Remus laughs again, his arm wrapping tightly behind your back. You’ve both had a drink too, not tipsy like Sirius but the buzz of it perhaps the cause of your loosened tongue, and his easy touching, his teasing. He smiles down at you kindly, “You want a kiss, is that it?” he asks, “Sirius has upset you and a kiss will make it better?”
You find you love the feeling of his chest pressed to yours, “I don’t know. It would be nice to have one just so he can stop talking about it.”
He pulls you right into him and angles his face against yours like he’s going to kiss you, his laughing a soft warmth on the tip of your nose. “You want it right now?” he asks, his hand rubbing sweetly into your back. Layers of fabric feel useless; it’s like he’s caressing naked skin.
“You can’t kiss me,” you say.
“Why not?”
“We’re friends.”
“What’s a good kiss between friends?” He’s following your eyes, he knows all your tones, Remus wouldn’t play with you like this if he thought it wasn’t what you wanted.
“I won’t know how to do it,” you warn in a whisper, you’re reluctance clearly fading.
“Well, you’re very pretty, so any bad kissing cancels out.”
You bend into him as his arm pulls you up, your noses nearly touching, closing your eyes as he leans in.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Mm,” you hum, though he doesn’t kiss you until you nod.
Your noses press together most of all, the strongest sensation, but then there’s heat as his lips part so slightly and press into yours. He kisses upward and you have the sense to keep pressing down, letting his soft kisses move you with him, like an ebbing wave. You take an instinctive step back and he pauses, until you attempt to kiss him again and prompt him into movement —he takes the lead. His hands grasp at your back like you’re water slipping through his fingers, letting a sound of pleasure filter from his lips into yours.
It’s so peculiar. It’s like fireworks, like all the books and movies say, but it’s more. It’s so warm, and his lips are soft even as his kissing turns rougher, as he tilts his head to the side and his lips come apart against yours. Your hand climbs hesitantly against his side, then up, then stuck at the place just above his ribs.
“Touch me,” he says gently, breaking the kiss as your breath comes fast, “wrap your arm around me, it’s alright.”
“Am I hopeless?” you ask, placing your arm behind his shoulder and tipping back to see his face.
He shakes his head, frowning, why is he frowning? “Hopeless?” he repeats. His hand comes up to your face, and that’s almost as bad as the kiss, the heat of his palm on your face and his thumb stroking over the slope of your cheek. He uses that movement to turn your head, and when he ducks in for another kiss, he murmurs, “No, I wouldn’t say hopeless,” the end of it lost on your lips.
This kiss is rougher again. Your heart beats so loudly you can hear the thump of it in your ears as your eyes close and you attempt to fit a hundred wanted kisses into one. He just squeezes you close and returns your enthusiasm, until you can’t breathe, forced to hang your head over his shoulder as you pant for air.
Remus kisses your neck. It’s a shock: you squirm at the sensation but let your head fall to the side as he does it again, not nearly as insistent as his lips had been on yours but something unsaid in the trail of his nose as it runs back up your neck and he kisses the skin below your ear. He slows, and slows, until he’s pulling away to stare at you.
You lift yourself up, nonplussed. “I didn’t know it felt like that.”
Remus shifts his hand from the side of your neck to the front, wiping at the marks of his kissing with his thumb where it wets your skin. “It doesn’t always.” He smiles at you with just a hint of smugness in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you want to know what a love bite feels like?”
“Oi!” James calls from the kitchen. “What are you two doing?”
You pull apart slowly from one another. You think he might’ve forgotten where you were, as did you.
James catches the fall of Remus’ hand where it had been on your cheek and squints suspiciously. “What are you guys doing? I made toast.”
You can’t look at him. Remus saves the day. “We’re looking for her earring.”
“You won’t find it with the lights off.” He glares again with suspicion before turning back to the kitchen. “I didn’t even know she wore earrings,” he mutters.
Remus gives you a sideways look. “Maybe I can show you what it feels like after?” he suggests, voice measured.
“Between friends?” you ask.
“No.” He puts his hand to the small of your back and gives you a gentle nudge down the hallway. “Not between friends.”
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#marauders era#remus x reader#remus x you#marauders#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#marauders x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fanfiction#the marauders
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Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words
Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.
Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes
“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right.
You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake.
Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely.
“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.
He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create.
“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together.
“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head.
He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss.
“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence.
“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter.
“Don't make us late!”
“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire.
Ping
“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls.
“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough.
“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head.
You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek.
“What is it?”
His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious.
“I might have to rearrange dinner.”
“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.
“Where did we pack the gear?”
“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -”
Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall.
He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection.
You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?”
“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking.
“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.
“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own.
“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?”
He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening.
“I love you, Bucky.”
“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.”
It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him.
His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home.
#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes/reader#Bucky Barnes x female!Reader#Bucky Barnes/female reader#bucky x female reader#Bucky fluff#bucky#Thunderbolts!Bucky#thunderbolts#domestic bucky#domestic fluff#Marvel
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One thing that sucks about fighting monsters from some weirdly dusty and gooey parallel universe to your own… is going back to school. Specifically going back after telling all your friends that they’re actually trust fund assholes and your girlfriend - ex-girlfriend - ends up with the one guy she swore up and down was just a friend.
Not that Steve really blames Nancy for that. Jonathan’s a good dude. Plus, it’s not like Steve was the perfect boyfriend or anything. He tried, but maybe it just wasn’t enough.
Maybe it’ll never be enough.
Steve takes a sudden right, making a detour from all the student rushing into the lunchroom in favor of being anywhere but there. He barely registers walking out of the school until he notices the woods in front of him. Why does everything always lead him back to here?
He doesn’t know why, maybe it’s what Dustin call his “mother hen” instinct, but Steve continues walking into the woods, wondering if maybe there are more monsters lurking about that he can spot early this time. God knows he would do anything for those kids - not that he would tell them that. Dustin especially does not need the ego boost.
So Steve wanders, listening closely for any unusual noise.
And then he hears one.
It’s just the thud of something metal sounding against maybe… a tree? Something solid. Then a crunch of leaves. And…
Singing?
Steve slowly peaks around a tree and finds the source of all the noise.
Eddie Munson.
Steve nearly rolls his eyes but finds himself fondly watching the boy as he drums on a wooden picnic table singing some song Steve has never heard. It’s when Eddie does some type of ridiculously uncoordinated twirl that Steve ends up snorting. It’s loud enough that Eddie ends up hearing it, startling mid turn and head bang that has him misstepping and landing right on his ass.
Steve tries to let some sheepishness bleed through the amusement in his expression. “You okay, man?” He asks, stepping forward to offer him a hand.
Eddie eyes it wearily. “Depends. What are you doing out here?”
“Just…” Steve stares at Eddie for a moment, trying to find a normal answer, but instead he shrugs and sighs, “I don’t know, man.” He takes another step closer and pointedly looks down at his offered hand.
Eddie narrows his eyes at him before taking it carefully. Steve is caught off guard by the cold metal rings but hauls Eddie up easily who wobbles when he gets to his feet. “Thanks,” Eddie breathes out, lingering in Steve’s space.
Steve just nods and wonders if Eddie Munson’s eyes have always been so big and brown.
“So, Steve Harrington,” Eddie starts, drawling out his name while taking a step back and brushing dirt off his pants, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Steve raises an eyebrow.
Eddie marches over to the picnic table and gestures dramatically at his lunch box. “I’m assuming you’re here for the goods?”
“The what?”
“Drugs, Harrington. Are you alright?” Eddie asks with a tilt of his head leaning forward as if assessing him.
Steve shrugs. “Fine. And no. I’m not here for your drugs which you evidently keep in your lunch box for any teacher to find.” Eddie’s brows furrow. Steve rolls his eyes. “I know you sell, but Tommy usually does this part.”
“I know,” Eddie replies as he hops up on the bench and crosses his arms. He faces Steve and bends at the waist - Steve ignores the urge to reach out and steady him so he doesn’t fall again. “So what are you doing out here? Are you here to… beat me up?” Eddie asks dramatically, hopping onto the table and pretending to brandish a sword.
Steve simply raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms.
Eddie’s arms drop. “Okay. Surprising but I guess you would’ve already taken a swing if you wanted a fight.” He squats down on the table until he’s eye level with Steve. “You’re not here because of the rumors, right?” Eddie asks, dropping his voice and appearing weirdly serious.
As for the rumors, Steve’s sure he’s heard more than he can count - including one about Munson being a vampire - so he’s not sure what he’s talking about. He’s also not sure if he wants to know which rumors he’s talking about. Steve runs a hand through his hair and settles his hands on his hips. “I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t know you were out here.”
Eddie squints at him. “You’re clearing your head by taking a walk in the woods?”
“Yes.”
They hold eye contacts for a few moments, and Steve can’t really tell what they’re silently sizing each other up about. Eddie reluctantly stands up and jumps off the table. “Fine. What are you clearing your head about?”
Steve stares at him.
“What?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Eddie steps closer to him and obnoxiously twirls a piece of hair around his finger. ��Because you’re Steve Harrington, and I must be the luckiest guy in all of Hawkins since I’ve got you here alone with me.”
Steve laughs loudly and gently shoves Eddie away. “Shut up.”
Eddie’s cheeks flush pink, and Steve can almost see him biting back the words “make me.” Then he’s reminded of the rumor that Eddie bats for the other team, and Steve suddenly wonders if it’s true - not that he would mind.
Steve pushes the thought away as Eddie smiles sincerely and pushes some hair in front of his face. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind the company. Plus,” he turns and sprawls back on the picnic bench, “You can tell me anything. I’m great at keeping secrets, and even if I wasn’t, it would be your word against mine.”
Steve considers what he’s said before asking, “And how crazy of a secret would you not only keep but believe?”
Eddie smiles almost manically. “Try me.”
Steve looks around wondering if the government people or whoever they were can hear him out here. He’s not sure if it’s been long enough to guarantee there’s not someone keep track of each of them, waiting for them to slip up. He also wonders how cruel it would be to unload all of this onto Eddie. Steve knows life was much simpler before he knew that demogorgans existed.
“I’ve been fighting… some monsters recently,” Steve settles on, hoping Eddie doesn’t take it so literally.
“Yeah?”
Steve nods and takes a step closer to where Eddie is sitting, gesturing at nothing as he continues, “It started when I was an asshole to Nance and then she ran off with Jonathan and the rest is history there but… they really dragged me into some heavy shit.”
“I can imagine. It’s not every day that your girlfriend runs off with another guy. Which is a shitty thing to do by the way.”
Steve tries to steer the conversation away from his failed relationship without setting off Eddie’s alarm bells. “It’s not that I really blame them. I mean you’ve seen them, everyone has, they’re kind of made for each other. Who am I to get in the way of that? Especially since I was a shitty boyfriend. But that’s not the point. Before Nance left, I was pulled into helping some…” he pauses, trying to think of a way to talk about the kids out of context without sounding like a creep. “Well, there was this guy who needed help and so… I helped him and his friends out.”
Eddie fixes him with a carefully blank look. “Helped this guy out… how exactly?”
Steve shrugs and sits next to Eddie as he figures out how to phrase things. “He… well. His cat… di- escaped! It escaped. And I was helping him find it, and we actually grew pretty close.”
Eddie knocks his knee against Steve’s. “So… you and this guy grew… close.”
Steve nods and smiles. “Yeah, he’s this dumbass genius k-,” he cuts himself off before he can say kid. “Anyways, then his friends needed help, and I helped them fight… their monsters.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “So you helped… multiple guys… fight their… monsters?”
Steve nods. “Yeah. But that’s over and now I have to go back here and pretend that none of that ever happened. It just… sucks, man.”
Eddie nods. “Uh. Yeah. I can imagine pretending for so long is... exhausting.”
“Tell me about it,” Steve says with a laugh.
A silence falls between them and Eddie glances over at him. “You know… you don’t have to pretend with me.”
Steve smiles and wonders what not pretending means now, but it’s sounds good nonetheless. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
Eddie softly smiles and his eyes move down to Steve’s lips slowly. “Yeah?”
And oh. Oh. There was definitely a miscommunication somewhere along the way. And… okay. Fighting monsters and helping guys fight their monsters is maybe not the best phrasing. But Steve thinks he likes Eddie remaining so blissfully ignorant.
So, Steve kisses him.
And yeah. Maybe there are quite literally hundreds of different ways he could’ve let Eddie remain oblivious to the whole vague Upside Down retelling, but Steve can’t really complain when Eddie kisses him back, finding the scrape of stubble against his face surprisingly pleasant.
And Steve finds himself taking his time thoroughly allowing Eddie to believe this story that Steve wishes were true rather than the real thing. It’s only when Eddie’s watch beeps that they finally pull away for longer than a few seconds.
“Shit,” Eddie mumbles, resting his forehead against Steve’s, “Time to head back in.”
“Can’t skip?” Steve asks, wondering why he’s trying so hard to solidify his false story.
Eddie sighs and pulls away. “Unfortunately, if I skip anymore, they’re not going to let me graduate. Although right now I think spending more time with you might be more important than my diploma.”
Steve laughs and feels himself pleasantly flushing. He nudges Eddie’s shoulder with his own before standing up and offering his hand to him again. “Come on. We can’t have you not graduating again.”
“Again? Harrington, are you keeping tabs on me?”
Steve raises his eyebrows at him as Eddie takes his hand and pulls himself off the bench. “And what if I am?” He flirts easily.
Eddie smiles giddily and grabs his lunch box. “Then I really must be the luckiest boy in Hawkins.”
Steve doesn’t say anything when Eddie doesn’t let go of his hand as they walk out of the woods toward the school. It’s only as the school slowly comes into sight that Eddie drops Steve’s hand and shoves his hands into his pockets. He stops in his tracks and turns to Steve. “Hey, thanks for not pretending with me.”
Steve glances at the school before moving in to give Eddie one final kiss. He lingers in it before breaking away to say, “Thank you for listening.”
They wordlessly separate as the head back to the building, knowing that even with the few weeks of school left and both of their tarnished reputations that they can’t truly risk it all.
As Steve makes it to his class just before the final bell rings, he’s left to wonder if maybe he really does have some other type of monsters to fight. And he really hopes Eddie Munson can be there to help him with those ones again.
#in s4 when Eddie raises his eyebrows at Steve in the boathouse#he’s just thinking THESE are the monsters you were talking about????#the monsters that are definitely NOT your bisexuality????#and the GUYS you HELPED OUT are these CHILDREN???#and NOT gay lovers????#full Eddie breakdown#oh and hi. it’s been awhile#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie ficlet#steddie crack
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You Were My Sunshine
Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.
Word Count: 3K
A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.
Masterlist
“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.
You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.
“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.
“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.
“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.
“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”
Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.
You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.
Your life is an open book.
Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.
You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere.
It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.
At least that’s how the team sees it.
They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:
Don’t worry about it.
After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it.
Everyone except Bucky.
It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.
Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.
That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.
He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane.
He just needs you. to know.
So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.
He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.
You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.
You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.
Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.
He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.
Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.
He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.
Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.
It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?
But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.
So why do it in secret?
After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.
Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.
He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.
After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.
It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.
So why don’t the Avengers?
You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.
You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.
He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.
He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.
“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”
You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.
“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.
A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.
Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.
You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.
“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”
Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.
“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.”
Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.
“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.
“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.
That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.
He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.
Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.
But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.
And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.
“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”
He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.
“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.
It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.
You are my sunshine
Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing.
My only sunshine
Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.
Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.
You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.
You make me happy, when skies are gray
You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little.
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you
Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.
Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away
Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.
Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these.
Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...
Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.
His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.
Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.
“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.
For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.
“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.
“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”
Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.
“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”
“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.
“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”
His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.
Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.
“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.
“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”
You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.
But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...
So you let him.
You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.
“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”
Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.
“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”
You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering.
“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”
His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.
With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.
In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.
This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.
And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.
Drabble
#bucky barnes#avengers x reader#bucky barnes x you#steve rogers#tony stark#avengers x platonic!reader#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#marvel fanfiction#clint barton
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The house is noisy as it should be because everyone is gathered as agreed a few days ago, the kids are finishing school and those who left for college are slowly coming back. Steve, for his part, has no energy. He had no work today, but he felt tired and strangely sad. No one seems to notice him yet, but Eddie, who was talking to Lucas, notices him.
"Steve, are you okay, honey?" exclaimed Eddie.
Steve feels a beautiful relief when he hears Eddie's voice. It always calms him to listen to Eddie, he doesn't know why but he loves to be next to him, he silently walks over to Eddie and lies down next to him, hiding his face in his neck. Eddie greets him with a kiss on the head and another on his cheek.
"Hey," Steve exclaims against the skin of Eddie's neck. "I missed you."
"I missed you too, handsome."
Steve wants to melt into Eddie's warmth and scent, for the first time that day his heart is beating quietly. Eddie begins to stroke Steve's hair, softly and to the rhythm of a melody that he doesn't know but that runs through every cell of his body.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
"Nothing, I'm just tired, but I'm better now."
"You know?" Eddie begins, still with his fingers in Steve's hair, but now playing gently with a curl that falls across his forehead, "I love the way you get so quiet when you're around me."
Steve smiles but doesn't respond right away. Instead, he slowly lifts his hand and places it over Eddie's, squeezing it gently.
"I don't like words sometimes," he says softly. "It's like I'm only comfortable like this, with the silences."
Eddie stares at him, with an expression of understanding, his eyes shining softly. He doesn't need to speak to know what Steve is feeling. With a faint smile, he moves a little closer, his face brushing Steve's.
"Then there's no need to speak," Eddie replies, his voice now a whisper.
Steve is silent for a moment, enjoying the closeness, the warmth that surrounds him. It's a kind of connection that can't be explained in words, but that makes him feel safe, as if he needs nothing more than this instant, than Eddie's hand in his, than the silence shared between them.
"Thank you," Steve whispers, not sure what he is thanking for, but knowing that it is something important.
"Why are you thanking me?" asks Eddie, curious, but also with a friendly smile, as if the answer doesn't matter too much.
"For being here, for making this all... easy."
Steve smiles, it feels good to be noticed.
••••
Btw they're not dating yet.
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Part 2
Part 1
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie stands and follows Steve to the door as he’s pulling on his shoes. He wants to stop him, pull the shoe out of his hand and drag Steve back to the couch, but he doesn’t have any right. He’s not entirely sure Steve won’t push him away if he tries to touch him right now, anyways.
“You think I’m straight and I was convinced you were into me,” Steve leans against the door frame to pull his other shoe on. He mutters under his breath, “I should’ve never listened to Robin an-”
“Robin was in on this?” He interrupts that thought. It throws Eddie. They’re such a tight knit group, he doesn’t know how they were so far off track with him.
“We spent hours going through every stupid interaction we had. Thought we had it all figured out.” He huffs and walks back over to the coffee table to pick up his wallet and keys. “I guess we’re both idiots.”
“No, Steve,” he tries to reach out and grab Steve’s arm, but he moves too quickly and Eddie’s left grasping air, “you’re not.”
“It’s fine, I’m used to it, anyways.” Steve scrambles to pull his sweater back on, the cold just starting to seep into the night air outside.
“Can you just slow down for a second?” Eddie stops trying to catch Steve and plants himself in front of the door. “What do you mean, you’re used to it?”
“Are you going to trap me here?”
“Answer the question.”
“This part, Eddie,” he sighs and gestures between them like that means anything to Eddie. “Everyone I’ve ever confessed to or made a move on has had the same reaction.” He looks off to the side, unable to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m pretty sure I’m the problem. Good ole Steve Harrington, too stupid to notice no one is interested in him.”
“Steve, you’re not stupid.”
“Feels like it most of the time.” He pinches his nose again, still not looking at Eddie, more like through him, gaze pinned to somewhere in the middle of Eddie’s chest. “Can you please move? We can pretend like this never happened and I promise I won’t make any weird moves on you ever again. I’m still friends with Nancy and Robin after everything, I can do it with you, too.”
Eddie skips over the whole Robin part of that in his head because he doesn’t have the brain power to analyze anything beyond Steve’s feelings for him. He never saw this coming. No one, boy or girl or anything in between, has ever made a move on Eddie before. He’s the local freak. There’s no way he could have predicted the town’s golden boy hero would make the moves on him.
He takes in how disheveled Steve’s become in the last few minutes. How hastily he’s thrown on his sweater. The mess of Steve’s hair from the hand that’s run through it several times since he got up from the couch. Barely laced up shoes so he could get out the door faster. He’s normally so put together and this, the sight of him so frazzled, frightens Eddie.
They were fast friends after everything happened with Vecna, leaning on each other for support. Becoming inseparable with King Steve wasn’t something Eddie ever imagined, but it was so easy. Neither of them were what each other had built up in their heads from the rumor mill around Hawkins. Eddie’s never had a guy friend as close as Steve. Sure, he had Hellfire and Corroded Coffin, but Eddie’s always been a bit of a loner.
It was impossible to feel alone with Steve as a friend. He had a way of knowing when you needed support, always just there when Eddie felt alone or needed a physical presence when the weight of the upside down was dragging him down. There wasn’t a day in the past six months that Eddie didn’t see Steve, even if it was only in passing or a quick little jaunt down to Family Video, he’s a constant presence in Eddie’s life.
To lose that? Would be like losing a part of himself. Like losing a limb. Losing his home.
And he’s scared. He doesn’t want to let Steve walk out that door, the weight of losing him forever lingering in the air. But he can’t trap him here. That wouldn’t be fair to Steve.
He moves out of the way, taking a step towards Steve, but he sidesteps Eddie and reaches for the door.
“Steve-”
“Don’t worry about me, Eddie,” he doesn’t turn around, but hesitates halfway out the door. “I’ll be fine.”
With the soft click of the door closing, he’s gone.
And that should be the end of it. Closed book. Eddie doesn’t like Steve and Steve needs to move on. There’s not much Eddie can do about that.
But it haunts him.
If you didn’t know Steve, you wouldn’t realize that anything was wrong. He’s acting normal, smile on his face when he jokes with Robin, complaining about the kids being terrors, going to his job.
But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, in the way his smile droops when he thinks no one’s paying attention to him, in the way Robin protectively hovers around him when Eddie is nearby. It’s clearly a facade he’s putting on to get by.
And Eddie aches. There’s a pit in his stomach that opened up that day and it hasn’t closed. Steve avoids his touch and the chasm grows larger, dragging Eddie further into the darkness. Casual hangouts halted. No more divulging of nightmares or fears late at night. A piece of Eddie is with Steve and he’s bereft of comfort. Unsettled.
He lies awake replaying that kiss over and over in his head. Thinking about what Steve said after. There’s no comfort in the way he handled the situation. It feels like he miscalculated, like pushing Steve away was the wrong move and now his life will never be the same again.
Maybe it won’t. Maybe there’s no way for them to move forward and for him to not break Steve’s heart every day. Steve said he was an idiot, but Eddie’s positive he’s got it all backwards. Eddie’s the idiot.
And he can’t stop thinking about kissing Steve.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#katie writes#again I promise this will have a happy ending#feel free to yell at me#angst#the comfort is COMING I swear
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(posting some old twitter threads here for posterity's sake)
Chrissy and Eddie breakup. She's a lesbian, apparently. Has finally come to terms with it. It's half a decade of Eddie's life in the dust. He... he doesn't exactly handle it well.
But Steve's there for him, offers Eddie a shoulder to cry on.
They’re drunk when Eddie says no one’s ever been in love with him. Not really. So Steve kisses him.
But Eddie’s straight.
He always has been.
He freaks the fuck out. Bolts. Lets the calls go to voicemail. He’d lost his partner and one of his best friends in the span of a week and it’s not fair and he’s pissed off beyond belief at Steve for doing it.
But he’s also confused. And he also can’t stop thinking about it.
He stews on it for weeks. Avoids mutual friends like the plague. The band lets people know he’s alive, apparently. Between losing Chrissy and Steve, he feels like there are chunks of him missing. So he gets drunk. Hooks up with blondes who kiss him all wrong.
He’s five whiskeys deep and when he finds himself banging at Steve’s door. Steve answers with his hair mussed and his voice sleep-rough. And Eddie tells him he’s really fucking pissed at him. And Steve apologizes again. And it should be enough but it’s just fucking not.
So Steve apologizes again and again and again, all blubbery and guilt-ridden. It's only making Eddie more angry. And he doesn’t know why. And he’s too drunk for this shit.
So he shoves Steve against the door and kisses him stupid.
He wakes up in his own bed the next morning and he's sure he dreamt it. (He’s been dreaming it a lot lately.) But his lips are all stubble-scrapped and his mouth is cotton but he remembers how his friend's tongue tasted and he just.. Wants to cry.
Cause he’s not gay. He’s not. Other people are. Most of his friends are. And he’s fine with that! He’s been a good ally.
Well, maybe not to Chrissy. But only cause it broke his goddamn heart. Only cause he loved her so much. Only cause he'd never felt that way about anyone before or anyone since.
Except well— Fuck. Shit fucking fuck.
So he calls her. He’s kind of hoping it’ll ring through but she picks up straight away, lets out a soft little hey. And it breaks his heart all over again to hear her voice. But he takes a breath and says, “I kissed Steve.”
And she pauses. “You kissed Steve?"
And then he says, “Well, he kissed me first. But yeah. I got drunk. Jeez Chris, I got wasted. And then I— yeah, I kissed him.”
And she's quiet for a long time, just soft breathing and static. Then she says, “Thank you for telling me, Eddie.”
And oh. That’s what it was, wasn’t it?
So they talk about it. All of it. And he really listens to her this time. He couldn’t the last time, couldn’t hear over the sound of his heart fuckin’ shattering. Then he’s the one blubbering apologies cause his girl was going through all this shit totally alone and he is now way too familiar with how bad it sucks.
And then they talk about It. The big It. All the stuff her mama drilled into her brain since she was in diapers. All the names that got spat at him between hall shoves. Shit they couldn’t be 'cause then they’d be wrong, shit they couldn’t be 'cause then they’d be right.
And when they’re done and the conversation turns into How’s the band? and Is Marcel still driving you crazy? Eddie feels ten pounds lighter, almost whole again. Like he was but better, all glued together in gold. Well, almost altogether.
He really needs to talk to Steve.
He knocks on his door again that night. This time not at 1 AM, this time sober and remarkably dehydrated.
And Steve answers. This time put together, this time hair done and voice in its day pitch (Eddie kinda misses the sleep rasp). And he looks.. fuck. He looks perfect, doesn’t he?
Eddie’s spent all day mulling this conversation over. But standing here now he’s coming up blank. He mutters, “I- I was an asshole.”
Steve opens his mouth but Eddie just trucks on.
“–you were an asshole too, man. But me, uh, probably more?”
And he ignores the way his stupid traitor eyes start to water, always do when the moment feels too big. “–Sorry about that. Sorry that I freaked, sorry that I was pissed at you for the shit I was just pissed at myself for. Sorry for, uh. Yelling at you. Sorry, um. Yeah. Sorry for kissing you. That definitely wasn’t cool. It’s been uh... a confusing month. Shit. I’m so sorry Steve.”
Steve just leans against the door. Normally he wore everything on his face. Couldn't win Texas Hold 'Em to save his life. Not now though. Now it feels like Steve could have a sleeve full of aces and Eddie wouldn’t know a thing.
But then he says “Eddie” so quiet it sounds like he hadn't even meant to. Like it just slipped onto his tongue.
Eddie can’t do anything but blink, “Yeah?”
“Let me um-” Steve swallows, “Let me get this straight. Where’d you land?”
God, this shit was humiliating, “Not that. Straight. Not straight.”
“Ok. Cool.”
“Yup.”
“And me–” Steve scratches at the back of his neck, “where did you land on me?”
Eddie feels like he’s gonna explode. But he can’t bolt. Not again. Even though every bone in his body wants to. So he plants his feet, coughs, “Well, I pretty much assaulted you, didn’t I?”
Steve rolls his eyes, snarks a laugh. “Sure. Yeah. I’ve been totally gone on you since, I dunno, forever. You were straight. You were basically married to your high school sweetheart. All it took was one of those things no longer being true for me to totally nosedive. But sure, you threw yourself at me.”
This was. It was a lot.
“Steve–”
Steve waves a hand, stops him. “‘No one’s ever been in love with you. Not really.’ That’s what you said, dude. Meanwhile, shit, cards on the table here? Every relationship I’ve had in the last five years has been a pointless attempt to get over you. So yeah, it was weird to hear, Eddie.”
Steve won’t look him in the eye. His neck is craned towards the ceiling.
Eddie whistles through his teeth, “Maybe, uh… maybe give me a bit more time?”
“Oh.” Steve finally glances up. His poker face is all gone. He looks like a kicked puppy. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”
“I’ll probably just need a week or two? I mean, fuck man, that’s a whole other, like Phylum of pornography I’ve been missing out on for the last 25 years. I gotta get myself acquainted before I can, you know–” He reaches out, rubs at Steve’s bicep with a wink, “Get myself Acquainted.”
Steve’s whole body is shaking. Eddie can feel the relief flitting out of him. “Jesus Christ, Munson.”
“Then I’ll take you out, Harrington! Show you the town.”
“Dude, will your dick even work at that point?”
“On the first date?” Eddie gasps, “Lord Harrington, how improper!”
Steve just shrugs, “Rules are different for guys.”
“What? Wait seven years and then hope you land a sexuality crisis?” Then Eddie’s leaning in, closing the space between them. Trying to ignore the pounding in his chest, thinks maybe he's never been so terrified.
Steve smiles into the kiss. “Yeah, Munson. It's something like that.”
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Heart sweater | B.B
Your daughter got a present for his daddy and Bucky isn’t afraid to show everyone what his little girl got for him.
Pairing: Mob!Dad!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Wife!Reader
Wordcount: 2.033 Words
Warnings: none, just lots of fluff
Authors Note: I couldn’t help myself. This sweater is just so adorable and imagine Bucky’s little girl getting it for him. So yes, soft spot, feeling soft right now. Hope you enjoy!
Events: Winds of autumn challenge | Candy corn 🍬 a sweet surprise, Balance ⚖️ as the equinox approaches, the day and night balance out. Write about finding peace | @the-slumberparty
Seasonal Delights Bingo: fall vibes | Row One-One | soft kisses | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Fairytale Bingo | Row One-Three | Goddess of marriage | @fairytalebingo
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
“Daddyyyy! We gots you a present!" A childish voice echoes through the hallway of the building. Your and your little — big — families home. Others may say that you, Bucky, and your daughter are family, but there are so many more; they aren’t from the same blood but with the same big hearts.
Bucky’s men, who not only needed to earn his trust but also needed to earn their place in the family, are more than just his men. They are Bucky’s friends, your friends, and your daughter's uncles. None of them would let anything happen to you or the little girl — not just because Bucky told them to take care, but because you’re a family.
Your little daughter runs further through the hallway until she finally reaches her dad's office door. The second floor of the building is just an office — for Bucky and his men. And since he had an important meeting, he suggested that you could go out with her to get some new toys and clothes.
Of course, your little baby girl didn’t go to the toy store first. She loves it, but you’re shopping? She has to get a present for her daddy. She kind of gives herself a treat after finding the perfect present for Bucky — and then she uses all the money she can to get a lot of toys and stuff for herself.
You watch the toddler with amused eyes whenever you’re shopping without Bucky. Mostly Steve comes with you, keeping the two of you safe and just giving you a helping hand so you don’t have to carry all of these bags yourself.
“Sweetheart,” you chuckle while she already jumps to reach the handle and almost falls into her dad's office. You laugh softly, shaking your head — she is just as stubborn as her daddy when it comes to letting someone help or listen once they get excited.
Bucky’s head shoots up the moment the door swings open. He smiles at his little girl, then his eyes wander further toward you. The ocean blue orbs glistening when his lips curl up into a soft smile — one he reserves only for you and your little girl.
“Take care, my sweet little plum. Don’t want ya to get hurt, do we?” He asks, his voice soft but still a bit firm, so the little girl will listen to him. Her eyes — which are just as blue as Bucky’s — roam over her daddy’s body, from his legs up to his face, before she smirks with the widest grin ever.
“We gots you something’, daddy!” She says, excitedly. Bucky crouches down, resting his arms on his knees while he waits for his little girl to continue talking. “Mommy! Daddy waits fo’ you!”
You chuckle, looking for the bag in your hand she wants to have before placing all the others down and handing her the one she put her daddy’s present into. Bucky’s eyes move toward you; without any words, he makes sure you’re okay and that you can be without a kiss for a few more minutes while he focuses on his baby girl.
Once he’s sure you’re fine — after you settle down on the couch in his office and sigh softly — he mouths, ‘I love you, my pretty girl’ to you. And oh damn, you know why you fell in love with that man. He may be a big, feared mafia boss, but around you he is the sweetest, most loving, caring, and perfect husband — and father for your daughter — you could have wished for.
Bucky may be mad because of work sometimes; he may be annoyed, but he never lets it out on you. He would rather punch himself than make you feel like he doesn’t appreciate you or that you’re a burden for him. For your husband, you’re the most precious woman, and he will do everything to keep you safe and loved. He does the same for your little girl.
Luckily, Bucky discovered immediately that whenever he's mad, he just needs you, and everything is perfect. Preferably when he can keep you on his lap. His arms are tightly wrapped around your waist and pull you as close as possible while he presses his face into your chest. You will run your fingers through his hair, and he knows he’s safe — no reason for anger or annoyance, just love and affection, so he calms down without needing anything but you.
“So what do you have for me, my little plum?” Bucky asks, looking with amusement and curiosity at the little girl in front of him. She giggles, her tiny hands grasping his cheeks, and she runs her small fingers over his stubbles.
“Sc’atchy,” she mumbles and squeezes his cheeks together. Bucky lets out a low chuckle, letting her play with his scratchy stubbles. He knows how much his sweet little girl likes his stubbles; she is just like her mommy loving his metal arm and his stubbles — even though you have other intentions when it comes to his metal arm or his stubbles. But those are secrets that stay in the bedroom.
“Sweetheart, you wanted to show Daddy what you got for him,” you remind her when you notice that she got lost in her little game to play with her daddies cheek. But she was so excited to get him his present, plus you know that Bucky’s curious as well.
She removes her small hands and grasps the paper bag again, opening it before hiding her face almost inside of it. You would never leave her with a bag without anyone else around her, but as long as you and Bucky are there, you don’t feel scared if she puts her head slightly into it to tease her daddy a bit.
“Yeah, my little plum. What do you got Daddy, huh?” He asks, bringing his big hands to her small sides to poke his fingers into her soft flesh. The little girl laughs, throwing her head back while she wiggles in his grip.
She pulls her tiny hands out of the bag and holds a big, white sweater with hearts on it in front of her. Her smile grows and her eyes sparkle as she shows it to Bucky. And the big, most feared mafia boss has the sweetest expression on his face.
His eyes shine, and it looks like the sun is brightening them. His smile reaches almost his ears as he stares at the fabric in his daughter's hands. Bucky’s eyes wander to you for a second, then back to his little girl.
“Thank you, my little plum,” he coos, taking the sweater out of her hands to admire it a moment longer. Your daughter watches Bucky intensely — the same intense stare Bucky has if he wants to find out how you think about something. “You want me to take it on right now?”
She nods, letting herself fall backward into her butt while she holds his gaze. He nods, smirking softly. Bucky leans forward, his big hand placed at the back of her head, and he brings her closer to press his plump lips against her forehead.
“Then I will do that,” he says, getting up from the stop he was kneeling. His eyes land on you, and before he leaves the room to change into the new sweater, he makes his way over to you.
He towers over you, both of his hands finding their way to your thighs, and he leans closer. His lips almost brush yours when he grins at you. “She chose the sweater all by herself, but you allowed her to buy it, didn’t you?”
You shiver under his intense stare and his rough voice. “S-she’s just really convincing. I know you said you don’t want presents, but I guess— I guess she got that from you,” you giggle and Lena closer to chase his lips for a soft kiss. Bucky chuckles, kissing you once again before he pushes himself up and makes his way out of the room to change into the sweater you and your daughter got him.
Your daughter gets one of her new toys out of the bag and shows it to you. It’s not like you don’t know what she bought, but she loves to show you and explain everything about it anyway.
“Mommy, wants book or wants dolly?” She asks, lifting her small arms and holding both up to let you decide which of these she should show and explain to you.
“Do you want me to tell you more about the book you got?” You ask. She nods and puts the doll down, walking with the book in her hands toward you. The little girl places the book on the couch next to you, her small fingers digging into your thighs, and she tries to push herself up onto the couch. “Do you want me to help you, sweetheart?”
“Nuuu, ‘m big girl!” She nods, underlining her words. You chuckle; let her climb up without help. Your hand is still behind her back just in case she falls backwards, but she doesn’t.
Once she is on top and next to you, she wiggles a bit and takes the book, placing it in your lap. She just wants to explain why she got the book, who’s on the cover, and what she knows about her favorite series — the book is about it — when Bucky walks back into the room.
Her eyes widen, and she giggles as she sees her big daddy in this pretty sweater she got him. You smile softly at him, reaching your hands out for him to come closer. “You’re pretty, Bucky,” you say and run your fingers over the back of his flash hand, then over the fabric of the sweater.
“Didn’t know I would look that good in that sweater,” he jokes. Stroking one of his hands over the fabric. And he really does look adorable with his middle long hair, his broad chest, and his big arms — the feared mafia boss — wearing a sweater with a lot of hearts on it because his sweet little plum got it just for him. “So, my little plum, what do you think?”
Bucky gets down on his knees in front of the couch, looking at the little girl. Her ocean blue eyes roam over him a little longer before she giggles. “Looks pwetty, daddy! Now we can go back to work!”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I thought I could take out my girls for dinner.” Bucky tilts his head. His fleshy hand holds yours tightly while he watches the little girl, considering if she wants to work or prefers to have dinner with the two of you.
“Do we gets my favorite food?” She asks, taking her book and making grabby hands, waiting for Bucky to pick her up. He nods, wrapping his arms around her to lift her onto his waist before he holds a hand out for you to grasp and let him pull you up.
Bucky doesn’t care that people could look weird at him for wearing a sweater with hearts on it. His sweet girl got it for him, and he knows that no one will disrespect him — not even when he looks like a sweet puppy with an adorable sweater.
“You know, babydoll,” Bucky says, looking at you as he wraps his free hand around your waist to pull you into his side. His nose brushes over your cheek until his lips press against your temple. “Thank you for letting out sweet plum to buy me such a pretty sweater. Now I’m wearing your necklace, our wedding band, and my little girl's sweater. I love you, my babydoll, pretty momma.”
Bucky’s voice is low, and he smirks against your skin as you shiver. You knew he would love the sweater — he loves everything you or your daughter get him. “I love you too, Buck,” you mumble before you make your way to the restaurant — letting Bucky show his sweater around to let everyone see how proud he is to have his family, how much he loves you and his little plum, and how much he appreciates you and your love.
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