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libraryofgage · 1 year

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Librarian Steve :)

Was talking to a friend about people (specifically this one kid that gives such Dustin energy hfjdks) I meet at work (I'm a librarian) and that evolved into this plot bunny so:

Librarian Steve, rock star Eddie, and the 5 times Steve pretends he doesn't know who Eddie is while they flirt + 1 time Steve reveals he knew about Eddie's rock star status the whole time

There is also, definitely, at some point, going to be a second part where the kids keep just barely missing Eddie and refuse to believe Steve is actually dating anyone but especially not Eddie Munson of all people

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

One

Steve stares at the man on the other side of the circulation desk. He's wearing a Metallica shirt, ripped jeans, a guitar pick necklace, clunky rings on each finger, and an expression that says he's bracing himself for something painful.

Here's the thing: Steve knows who Eddie Munson is. It's hard to listen to alternative rock or punk or any other genre like that and not know Eddie Munson. It's hard to be a librarian who works primarily with kids in middle school and high school, all going through that painful, angsty phase that they express through music, and not know Eddie Munson.

So, yeah, Steve takes one look at the admittedly (incredibly) attractive guy and immediately knows he's Eddie Munson. Like, of Corroded Coffin fame. Of Rock n Roll Hall of Fame fame. Of platinum-level album sales fame. Of--okay, his point has probably been made.

Anyway, yeah, Steve knows this is Eddie Munson, and while he'd love to say he's a fan and smile at Eddie and maybe ask for an autograph, Steve also grew up as a Small Town Rich Kid. So he knows that look on Eddie's face, the one that says he's bracing himself for someone to start fawning over him and potentially ask for uncomfortable favors or his number or any other request that's definitely crossing the line into invasive.

Steve easily makes the decision to pretend he doesn't recognize Eddie. So, he puts on his customer service smile and says, "Hello, how can I help you?"

The sheer relief in Eddie's eyes is more than enough to tell Steve he made the right choice. "Right, uh, this is my first time here," Eddie says, shifting slightly before placing his hands on the counter and drumming his fingers.

"Oh, congratulations," Steve says, his tone and smile becoming more genuine. "Did you come here to print something?"

Eddie shakes his head, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a library card. "My friend has, like, a...hold? Yeah, a hold on something and asked me to pick it up," he explains.

Steve nods once and takes the card when Eddie offers it. He scans it and watches the computer load for a few seconds before opening an account window for someone named Asher Katz. "Since you aren't the cardholder," Steve says, navigating to the "Additional Information" tab in the account, "I'll need you to tell me the four-digit pin or code word connected to the account."

He clearly wasn't expecting that requirement, and Eddie flounders for a moment. "Is that a requirement?" he asks.

With an apologetic smile, Steve nods. "Yeah," he says, stretching out the word as he tries to think. "Oh, you could also call him and have him tell me the pin. Then I could confirm that it's okay for you to check out materials on his behalf."

"This is a lot of hoops for a book," Eddie says, frowning slightly as he takes out his phone.

"We have to make sure people's materials are secure. Also, we have to keep track of what people check out for the library's stats report at the end of each quarter."

Eddie looks like he understands about half of that, and Steve once again flashes an apologetic smile. After a few taps on the screen, Eddie glances around the library, ensuring it's empty, before putting the phone on speaker. The moment it picks up, and before Asher can speak, Eddie says, "Hey, man, I'm at the library. Can you tell, uh--" Eddie looks up to check Steve's nametag "--Steve what your pin is so I can check that book out."

A few seconds pass before Steve hears a sigh on the other end of the phone. "1234," Asher says.

"Seriously?" Eddie asks.

Steve glances at the account page, confirms the pin, and nods. "Could you also provide me with your code word?"

"Password."

"Dude!" Eddie says, staring at the phone like he's once again being reminded that his friend is a dumbass.

Steve checks the account again and nods once more. "Great, thank you. Could you confirm that...," Steve trails off, looking at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie blinks like he forgot Steve didn't know who he was and hesitates before clearing his throat and quietly saying, "Eddie."

"Thanks," Steve says, flashing another smile before looking at the phone and continuing, "Can you confirm that Eddie here is allowed to check out holds on your behalf?"

"Uh, yeah, that's fine, man."

"Great, thank you," Steve says, checking the card number once more before heading to the hold shelf behind the desk. He crouches and starts scanning stickers on the spines for Asher's last name and the last four digits of his number. Behind him, he hears Eddie say goodbye, his voice sounding a little strained for reasons Steve can't really figure out at the moment.

He finds the right book after a few moments and pulls it off the shelf. "Here it is," he says, walking over to the desk and pulling up the check-out window on his computer. He scans the library card once more, carefully pulls the sticker off the spine, and scans the book.

"It's due in two weeks, but if your friend needs more time, he can just give the library a call," Steve explains, passing the book and card back to Eddie with a smile. "Was there anything else I could do for you?"

Eddie just stares at him for a few seconds, his cheeks looking a little pinker than before, and Steve wonders if the building's A/C somehow gave up on life. Again. But he can hear it running so that definitely isn't it. "Uh, nope, that's it," Eddie says, gripping the book tightly in his hands, his rings pressing into the cover. "Thanks, Steve, appreciate it."

"Of course, man. Have a good day," Steve says with a genuine smile and wave as Eddie heads toward the door.

With a slightly awkward wave back, Eddie walks out the door, glancing back over his shoulder once before the door completely shuts. Once the library is empty again, Steve hears the door to the backroom open, and Robin practically slides up to the counter, leaning onto it next to him.

"Was that?" she asks. Steve instantly translates the question in his head: Was that Eddie fucking Munson?

"Yep."

"And did you?"

And did you just pretend you didn't know him?

"Yep."

"Did he?"

Did he catch on?

"Nope."

"Do you think?"

Do you think he'll be back?

Steve shrugs, glancing over at her. "Don't know," he says, pausing for a moment before adding, "He's hotter in person."

Robin barks out a laugh. "Maybe you'll actually get to flirt next time," she says, and Steve grins at her, kind of hoping she's right.

Two

Eddie returns exactly two weeks later, and Steve is lucky enough to once again be working a desk shift when he walks through the door. He's wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt this time, and his hair is pulled back into a messy bun with strands escaping to frame his face. He goes up to the counter, focused on Steve and completely ignoring Robin sitting at another computer, and sets the book down. "I wanna return this. And get a library card for myself," he says.

Steve can't help a clearly amused smile as he takes the book and scans it in. "Do you have an ID with you?" he asks, sliding the book along the desk to rest next to Robin.

He ignores the glare she shoots at him before grabbing the book to place it on a reshelving cart for later.

"Yeah, do I need anything else?" Eddie asks.

As Steve shakes his head, he leans over to grab a library card application from a small organizer. He places it in front of Eddie and passes him a pen as well. "Just fill that out," he says, leaning forward on the counter as Eddie picks up the pen.

"So, uh, what can I do with a library card?" Eddie asks, glancing up at Steve briefly before focusing on carefully writing. His letters are blocky but awkward like he's consciously thinking about how he's writing each one.

Maybe he just doesn't want to risk his writing being recognized, too? From what Steve remembers of the signatures he's seen, Eddie's handwriting is fairly distinctive.

"You can borrow up to 75 materials at one time, place items on hold, use the computers, and you get one dollar of printing credit that renews each day," Steve lists, tilting his head slightly as he watches Eddie write.

"That's it?"

Steve snorts, raising an eyebrow at Eddie when he looks up. "Oh, that's not enough for you?" he asks, unable to help a slight grin, "You can use it at any library within our system, too. So you'll still have options if you get banned from this one."

"Oh? And what would I be banned for?" Eddie asks, his writing pausing long enough to meet Steve's gaze once more and smirk at him.

"I wonder," Steve says, not missing the way Eddie's gaze drops to his lips for less than a second before moving back up.

Holy shit, he's flirting with Eddie Munson.

"I can also help you find books to read based on what you've liked previously," Steve adds, somewhat clumsily pulling back from the flirting. It's only Eddie's second time here, and he doesn't want to let himself get too caught up in...well, Eddie when there's no guarantee he'll be back.

Eddie hums softly as he looks back at the application. "Oh? What would you recommend for me?" he asks.

"What's your favorite book?"

"The Hobbit."

"What did you like about it?"

"The adventure and the characters."

"Do you prefer fantasy? What about sci-fi?"

"Yeah, those are fine."

Steve hums softly, thinking as Eddie sets the pen down and slides the application to him. "Thanks. I also need to see your ID," Steve says, opening a drawer in the desk and pulling out a library card. He scans it, a new account window popping up and waiting to be filled out.

"What's the ID for?" Eddie asks.

"To confirm that you live in our service area," Steve explains, taking the ID when Eddie offers it. He glances at the photo briefly, confirming that it is, in fact, Eddie Munson, and then double-checks the address. It matches what Eddie wrote on the application, so he nods and slides the ID back to him.

"That's it?"

Steve nods, beginning to type Eddie's information into the account page. "Yeah, that's it," he says, glancing up and smiling at Eddie, "Anyway, I think you'll enjoy the Murderbot Diaries. It's about a cyborg that hacks its control module, thinks about maybe going on a killing spree, and then discovers TV instead. It then just goes on adventures through space while fighting, like, capitalism and corporations."

"Sounds pretty badass," Eddie says, leaning forward on the counter like he wants to get a peek at the computer. "How long is it?"

"It's mostly novellas, so they're quick reads."

"Got any copies here?"

Steve hums, entering the last of Eddie's information. "I can check," he says, "but first, I need a code word for your account. Like, if you forget your pin or have someone else come pick up a hold, this word will confirm it's you."

Eddie thinks for a few seconds, his gaze dropping to Steve's nametag once more. "Stevie," he says.

Steve's fingers falter, accidentally typing an incomprehensible key smash into the information field. He glances up at Eddie. "...as in Stevie Nix? Don't forget, this has to be something you'll remember," he says, raising an eyebrow.

With a playful grin and a wink, Eddie says, "Well, I think you're pretty unforgettable, Stevie."

A beat passes as Steve stares at Eddie, feeling a rush of heat to his cheeks. He clears his throat and looks back at the computer, hesitating for a second more before typing "Stevie" into the field and saving the account. When he's done, he slides the card to Eddie along with a Sharpie. "That's your card, please sign on the back."

He notices Eddie stiffen at the request, but Steve doesn't comment. As he instead searches the library's catalog, he tries to ignore the sheer panic coming from Eddie as he tries to figure out how to sign the card. Eventually, Eddie picks up the Sharpie and writes his name in the same awkward, blocky writing he used for the application.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention once more, "we don't have any copies of the first book here, but I can put it on hold for you. It should be here in around four days, and you'll get an email when it's available. Does that work?"

Eddie nods as he places the Sharpie down. "Sure, I'm happy to swing by and pick it up," he says, his tone and smile and the playful look in his eyes telling Steve there are more reasons than that for him to come by the library.

And as Steve places the book on hold for Eddie, he can't help a tiny, eager smile.

Three

The D8 sits innocently on the counter in front of Steve, marbled colors of blue and red with streaks of gold to complement the gold-painted numbers. Steve had immediately recognized it as Will's when he was cleaning the meeting room, and he knew the kid was probably losing his mind right now searching for it. He feels kind of bad knowing Will is going to lose all hope of finding it before his next visit to the library.

At the same time, though, he's looking forward to the expression of sheer joy on Will's face when he next comes in and Steve gives it back. Maybe it'll even score him a bonus point with Mike, and he'll be a little less of an asshole. Though, knowing Mike like he does, Steve is sure he'll just get jealous that Steve made Will smile like that instead of himself.

That kid is incredibly skilled at finding new grudges to hold.

"Whatcha got there, Stevie?"

Steve blinks, looking away from the D8 to find Eddie leaning on the counter, a familiar grin tugging at his lips. His hair is loose today, falling over his shoulders, and he's boldly wearing a Hellfire Club shirt, like he's confident that Steve won't recognize any of Corroded Coffin's merch.

Which, sure, Steve is great at pretending by now. Especially after he and Robin made a bet on whether Steve could keep the secret until Eddie asked him out. Steve has incredible faith in himself; Robin says he's too dumb and gay to last that long. So far, after around two months and multiple visits from Eddie, Steve is still going strong.

"A D8," Steve says, holding it between his thumb and forefinger so Eddie can see it clearly. "One of the kids left it behind yesterday."

"They were playing D&D here?" Eddie asks, tilting his head slightly as he holds his hand out.

Steve drops the dice into his hand, watching as Eddie inspects the gold numbers and hums softly with appreciation. "I host a weekly D&D program," Steve explains. "A group of regular kids plays, and they were getting a little disruptive when they played in the common area--" Steve gestures to the cluster of tables where the kids used to set up "--and the program gives them the meeting room for a whole afternoon."

Eddie looks up at him like he's just said he's a volunteer firefighter on the weekends. It's not an awe and appreciation that Steve really deserves, but he also can't help the slight puff of his chest when it's coming from Eddie. "Do you play, too?" Eddie asks.

"Sort of?" Steve frowns slightly, trying to remember how Dustin and Will explained his role during the campaign to him. "I'm, like, extras. Their DM, Will, wanted his, uh, NPCs? Yeah, NPCs. He wanted the NPCs to feel more real, so he'll give me, like, a little script before each session and then have me voice the NPCs and give me signals to guide my interactions."

"Signals?"

"Yeah, like, if I'm a shop owner and the characters bargain for stuff. He'll give me a signal of when their, like, rolls are effective or when they suck. And if I'm a villain NPC, he'll give me a signal of when to die and give dramatic monologues," Steve explains.

And Eddie grins again, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement and curiosity. "I kinda wanna hear a dramatic monologue," he says, propping his chin in his palm and looking at Steve expectantly.

He's clearly settled in to watch a show, and Steve isn't one to disappoint. Steve does a quick sweep of the library and confirms that it's just as empty as he remembers. Then, he sits up a little straighter in his chair, clears his throat, and tries to remember his whole dying monologue from the most recent session.

When he speaks, it's with a raspy voice, laced with pain and anger at being defeated, "Curse you, adventurers! You may have won the battle, but the war! The war yet rages, and you will be caught in its carnage! Savor this victory now, for it will be your last, and you will fa-"

Steve cuts off, grinning when Eddie blinks and pouts. "Why'd you stop?" he asks.

"Mike's character killed me before I could finish. Said my monologue was boring."

Eddie snorts, raising an eyebrow at that. "It sounds like your monologue was going to reveal info about the BBG."

"Yep. It was, but Will refused to tell them what the rest would've been, and Dustin threw his dice at Mike for killing me."

"He's lucky it was only that," Eddie says, completely serious, "I might've just killed him."

Steve can't help laughing, imagining Max leaping over the table to tackle Mike to the floor. She's done it before, actually, and the only thing that keeps her from attacking again is the knowledge that Steve will ban her from the library for at least a month if she gets violent again.

"He's lucky none of them want to be temporarily banned," Steve says.

"Oh? That's all it takes to get banned?" Eddie asks.

Steve smirks at the teasing lift to Eddie's question. "Yep, so you'd better watch yourself, Munson. I expect you to be on your best behavior," he says.

"I've never been very good at behaving."

"Great, you'll fit right in with the kids."

He looks up to see Eddie's smile growing wider, and Steve suddenly finds himself wondering how it would feel to kiss that smile away.

Four

Something library school never prepared Steve for is how overwhelmed certain days would make him. That's the thing about working with the public: some days are just never-ending, a line of patrons needing something practically wrapping through the stacks, meaning Steve can't turn off his customer service voice and smile.

Usually, he'll just escape to the back, lock himself in the employee bathroom, and take five minutes to cool down. Robin has gotten great at knocking on the door when the five minutes is up, pretending she needs to use the bathroom so the other staff members don't suspect Steve of breathing away a breakdown.

Today, though, Steve can't hide in the bathroom because of the music Robin is playing in the back. It's grating on his ears, scratching against his brain and down his spine like nails on a chalkboard, made all the worse by his interactions with an older patron with a voice that was rough and somehow rounded with sharp edges at the same time.

If Steve asked, Robin would definitely turn off the music, but he also saw her tense shoulders, how on edge she was, and how the music was the only thing helping her calm down. So Steve couldn't. Instead, he just said he was going to shelf-read the non-fiction section.

Because nobody goes into the non-fiction section. At least, nobody goes to the part of the section filled with encyclopedias. It's a safe corner, tucked into the back of the library where few people wander unless they're desperate for an outdated book of information that has no real bearing on their life.

So here Steve is, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes closed. This part of the library is quieter, but he can still hear the general ambiance of the building: people talking in hushed voices, the keyboards clicking as people type, chairs scraping against the floor as people pull them out.

And quiet footsteps coming closer. They're accompanied by the gentle sound of metal bouncing against itself. Steve doesn't open his eyes, but he does know that it's Eddie, and he's not at all surprised that Eddie managed to find him deep in the stacks.

It makes him feel a little warm, actually.

When Eddie reaches him, he doesn't speak. He just sits next to Steve, close enough for Steve to feel his presence without their shoulders touching. And he seems content to stay in silence for as long as needed, but Steve doesn't want silence. He wants to hear Eddie's voice; maybe it will override the discomfort of the music and the patron from earlier.

"Could you talk?" Steve asks, his voice soft and barely audible.

But Eddie hears him and scoots a tiny bit closer, letting their shoulders brush.

"I have opinions about library shelving because of you now. Like, why are science fiction and fantasy shelved together as one category? They're two different genres; they represent different things. One is a reflection of our society and all that it could be, an escape into something new, and the other is a reflection of what our society was through the eyes of a new world. And, like, it's not even the ones you think. They both embody different lessons and values and pairing them together is, like, demeaning to the hallmarks of the genres and what they can do for readers."

Yeah, that definitely sounds like an opinion about library shelving and cataloging. Steve can't help a soft laugh escaping him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at Eddie. "What started this?" he asks.

"There are Star Trek novels right next to, like, Seven Blades in Black on the shelves, Stevie. It's horrendous. What the fuck?"

Steve smiles a little, gently knocking their elbows together. "Unfortunately, I can't control how our cataloging department works," he says.

"Sounds like a skill issue to me," Eddie says, "Maybe you should just get good."

Steve barks out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand at how loud it sounds. He glares at Eddie, his eyes holding no real heat.

Eddie grins right back and leans in a little closer. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle and brushing against Steve's brain like a cool stream of water on a hot day.

It makes his shoulders relax, something in his stomach uncurling and draining all the tension from his muscles. "Yeah," he replies, "thanks."

"Anytime, Stevie," Eddie says, smiling at Steve like he's capable of hanging stars in the sky, like he'd do a backflip with a broken spine if Steve asked.

And Steve...Steve finds himself getting lost in Eddie's eyes, and he has no plans to find his way out anytime soon.

Five

Most of the library staff hates reshelving books, but Steve loves it. He doesn't have to use his brain beyond remembering the alphabet, and he can listen to music while he works, easily zoning out so the time passes quickly.

Which is what's happening now. He's probably been shelving for a while, but he's been listening to a Corroded Coffin playlist the entire time, humming along to Hellfire and Chains. His head is bobbing along to the music as he works, and he turns to grab another book off the reshelving cart only to find Eddie standing right behind him.

Steve jumps, his heart leaping into his throat as he chokes on air and Corroded Coffin notes. Eddie is staring at him with wide eyes, somewhere between afraid and infatuated, and Steve can't help asking, "What the fuck, man?" in a whispered voice.

"Whatcha listening to, Stevie?" Eddie asks, ignoring Steve's question.

Oh. If he admits to knowing Corroded Coffin's music, then he'll probably be giving up the whole "I know you're famous" thing, and based on Eddie's somewhat terrified look, that's not a great idea right now. But he also can't lie about the music because Eddie's going to recognize his own songs.

"Uh, Corroded Coffin, I think? I heard Lucas playing one of their songs. It sounded catchy and he sent me a playlist he'd made on Spotify," Steve explains.

It's not a lie, technically. That is how he discovered Corroded Coffin, but that was almost two years ago now.

"And, uh, what do you think?" Eddie asks, glancing at the earbuds still playing in Steve's ear.

Steve studies him for a moment before smiling. "They're really good," he says, turning around to continue shelving books. "I like stuff from their second album best so far."

"Do you usually listen to metal and rock?" Eddie asks, glancing at the shelving cart before passing Steve another book.

Steve almost tells Eddie to let him do the shelving, but then he sees that Eddie passed him the correct book for this section, so he bites back the words. Instead, he nods and crouches to slide the book into a bottom shelf. "Yeah. More older stuff, I guess. Guns N' Roses, Metallica, Nine Inch Nails, Queen. That kind of stuff," he says.

"Holy fuck, you're perfect," Eddie says, his voice soft and full of awe and Steve is about to laugh when Eddie adds, "Marry me."

Steve blinks, nearly losing his balance and falling on his ass. He saves himself at the last minute, quickly standing up again so he can look at Eddie. "Seriously?" he asks, wondering if maybe he had just misheard.

He did not. And this is proven by Eddie moving around the shelving cart, grabbing Steve's hand, and getting down on one knee. "Incredibly. Your music taste is fucking immaculate, sweetheart. Also, you're funny, hot, and sweet, and I've recently developed a librarian kink, I think. So. Marry me," Eddie says before using his teeth to pull off one of the chunky rings on his left hand so his right hand doesn't have to let go of Steve.

He then holds the ring up, and Steve really shouldn't find that as hot as he does. Like. Really hot. And he almost considers saying yes. But then he fully processes Eddie's words and almost laughs. "You've developed a librarian kink? So, what, you'll drop me the moment another librarian starts ranting about the Dewey Decimal system?" he asks.

"Okay, fair," Eddie says, nodding once. "Let me rephrase that. I've developed a Librarian Steve Harrington kink. Only you, big boy. Nobody curses out the Dewey Decimal system like you, sweetheart."

That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to Steve, actually. "It's a shitty cataloging system," he says without thinking.

Eddie nods in agreement, still on one knee, still holding up the ring (it's shaped like a coffin, now that Steve spares it more than a quick glance) and still looking up at Steve with an infatuated smile. "It is," he agrees, voice a little softer than before like he's ready to just kneel through Steve's passionate rant about it.

And Steve thinks that might be the final straw for him. "I'd prefer at least one date before marriage," he says, grinning down at Eddie and pulling him back to his feet.

Eddie follows his lead, standing a little too close considering Steve is, technically, still at work. He turns Steve's hand over so it's palm up and drops the ring into it. "Of course, Stevie. How about lunch tomorrow? My treat," he offers.

Of course, Steve says yes.

+ One

"I still think there are funnier ways to tell him," Robin says, crossing her arms and pouting as Steve leans against the counter, his back to the door.

Steve sticks his tongue out at her. "You're just mad you lost the bet," he says. Telling her she lost had made Steve's entire week, especially since it means Robin is finally (finally!) going to dress up with Steve the next time they go to a basketball game together. He's got a jersey and shorts ready for her; he's had them ready since the first game he invited her to. They have her name across the back, are the ugliest shade of mustard yellow he could find, and match his perfectly.

"That jersey is the work of the devil," she says, her nose scrunching in disgust at the thought of it.

Steve just grins. "You never know, maybe a nice girl will be enraptured by your awkward lesbian swag," he says.

Robin is about to answer when she looks over Steve's shoulder and grins, her eyes lighting up. Steve looks over his shoulder to see Eddie smiling at him. "Hey, Stevie," he says.

And here it is. The moment of truth. Steve grins right back at Eddie and turns around, letting him see the graphic on his shirt. It's one he bought at a Corroded Coffin concert a year ago. It has the band's first album cover emblazoned across it with Eddie front-and-center, playing his guitar with the other band members around him as bats swirl in a red haze above their heads.

Eddie stares at the shirt, his smile freezing on his face and his body tensing. Panic starts to fill his eyes, and he glances up, looking ready to explain himself only to stop when he sees Steve's soft, endeared smile. He pauses, studying Steve's expression for a moment before laughing a little awkwardly and tugging on a lock of his hair, using it to cover his mouth. "So, uh, you knew the whole time," he says.

"Yep," Steve replies, leaning forward on the counter so it's harder for Eddie to avoid looking at him. "I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Eddie asks.

"You didn't want me to," Steve says. Then he considers his words and corrects, "Or, you didn't want to be recognized. When you first came in, you were bracing yourself for it, and I figured you'd feel more comfortable if I pretended not to know you."

"What about all the other times?"

Steve shrugs, his smile becoming reassuring. "I figured you'd either tell me when you were ready, or I'd tell you when we went on a date because you'd probably get all in your head about having a secret like that while we were dating."

And Steve is right. Eddie would have freaked out over the secret, and he would have struggled with telling Steve at just the right moment, and time would have stretched on and on until it had been too long to tell him anything. It would have been agony for Eddie and left Steve concerned and just not a good time for anyone.

"So, uh, how long have you been a fan?" Eddie asks.

"Well, I wasn't lying about hearing your music from Lucas, but I did lie about the time. It was two years ago," Steve explains.

Eddie slowly nods and then starts to grin. "So, how's it feel dating a celebrity?" he asks playfully, leaning closer and wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.

"Like a Wattpad fantasy come true," Steve deadpans, nearly cracking when he hears Robin lose her shit behind him, her laughter turning into wheezes within seconds.

Eddie laughs, too. It's loud and bright and makes Steve feel warm and happy, like every problem could be solved simply by making Eddie laugh just like this.

Steve is eager to find out if that's true.

#steddie #steddie fic #librarian steve harrington #rock star eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #robin buckley #5 + 1 fic #my writing #i'm a librarian btw so this was a bit inspired by my experiences #also fuck the dewey decimal system all my homies hate the dewey decimal system #it is a plague upon this earth

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redroomreflections · 2 months

Text

Hotel California | Track 1: Smoke and Mirrors

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 7k

Chapter 1/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: I was going to wait to post this since I have fifty-leven WIPs but to make up for me not being able to write for a while and also finishing two stories in the coming weeks - here we are. I'm nervous about posting this one for some reason. Hope y'all like it.

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Track 1 - Smoke and Mirrors (each chapter is a track)

In the world of music, there's no denying that Velvet Rebellion's sound is electric, their melodies are undeniably addictive. But offstage, the drama and chaos surrounding this band have been the subject of endless tabloid fodder. It's a classic case of the music being sweet, but the rest of the package is a tad sour. Will their rock 'n' roll lifestyle ultimately overshadow their undeniable talent? That remains the question on everyone's lips.

The TV channel flicking produced a rapid succession of blips and static.

"You know, when it comes to Velvet Rebellion, it's clear that Natasha Romanoff is the best thing about the band. Her vocals are just on another level!"

"Oh, absolutely! Natasha's stage presence is incredible, and her voice, that raw emotion she pours into every note, it's what sets them apart. But let's not forget the rest of the band; they bring their own magic to the mix!"

Another press of the button. Another channel emitting the same rhetoric.

"So, what are your thoughts on Velvet Rebellion, the band that seems to be taking the music scene by storm?"

"Look, I won't deny that they've had their moments. Natasha's got a powerful voice, and they've had some catchy tunes. But let's not forget, there's more to rock 'n' roll than just one person. We bring our own unique sound to the table, and we're here to show that rock isn't a one-trick pony."

Suddenly, the screen goes black. The television has been turned off. The room is silent.

“Whatever,” The mysterious person tsks. There are better things to do.

In the dimly lit room, the first flicker of a cigarette lighter illuminated a shadowy figure, and a guitar's haunting melody echoed through the air. It was a simple beginning, a humble birth of sound that would eventually become the anthem of a generation.

Images flashed in rapid succession—a chaotic whirlwind of memories and moments that had defined their journey from obscurity to stardom. The flashing lights of a small, dimly lit club, the very place where they had played their first gig, gave way to a sea of screaming fans, arms raised in fervent adoration.

“Bucky! Bucky!”

“Steve, we love you!”

Talk show interviews brought them into living rooms across the nation, their faces beamed into millions of homes as they shared their stories and their music with the world. The camera panned to Natasha, her fierce gaze unyielding as she answered questions with poise and grace.

And then, there were the guitars. Guitars being smashed in a blaze of glory on stage, a ritual that had become their trademark. The destructive catharsis of the act symbolized the release of their raw energy and passion into the world.

Groupies and fans clamored for their attention, their devotion evident in the longing looks and outstretched hands. Each face in the crowd told a story of how Velvet Rebellion's music had touched their lives.

Late-night studio sessions followed, with the band working tirelessly into the early hours, crafting the songs and lyrics that had earned them their place in music history. In the dimly lit room, the flicker of a cigarette lighter once again marked the beginning of a new song.

Magazine covers splashed with their images adorned newsstands across the country. Excerpts from clippings of their first studio album, "Velvet Love," told a tale of raw, unbridled emotion set to music—a story that had resonated with countless souls.

The montage painted a vivid picture of a band that had journeyed through the highs and lows of fame, never losing sight of the music that had brought them together. Velvet Rebellion had carved its path through the music industry, leaving an unforgettable mark on the hearts of those who had listened and loved.

*************

Sunlight filters through the curtains of Natasha and Wanda's cozy Los Angeles apartment. Disheveled yet determined, Natasha sits on the edge of her bed, cradling her guitar. She strums the strings absentmindedly, searching for that inspiration that once fueled Velvet Rebellion. Her fingers danced over the strings of her trusty guitar, each note a whisper in the quiet solitude of the bedroom.

Natasha's hair framed her face, and frustration lined her expression as she strummed the chords once again. The next album's melodies were meant to be born here. Yet, inspiration remained at arm’s length, teasing her like a fading dream.

"Come on Natalia," she whispered gruffly, remembering the name she had left behind long ago.

With a sigh, she shifted her gaze to the muted TV on the dresser. A NEWS REPORTER's face appeared on the screen, accompanied by headlines that could never escape the relentless clutches of the media. She searched for the remote to turn up the volume as the face of one of her bandmates, Tony Stark’s pictures appeared.

NEWS REPORTER

(on TV)

“In a surprising turn of events, Velvet Rebellion's Tony Stark was arrested last night for public indecency.”

Natasha's eye-roll was instinctive. Tony always had a way of making headlines for all the wrong reasons.

NEWS REPORTER

(on TV)

“...fans and critics alike have noted the band's gradual decline, and it seems the once-revered punk rock indie sensation is now on the verge of falling apart.”

The reporter's words cut through Natasha's indifference, a scalding reminder of the shadows that had been gathering around them. She couldn't deny it; the band had been stagnant for too long.

Fury sparked in her eyes, and she clenched the neck of her guitar, momentarily abandoning the song. The Velvet Rebellion of yesteryears, the band that had ignited stages and won hearts, couldn't be reduced to this—a spectacle of controversies and dwindling star power.

Returning her attention to her guitar Natasha sighed. The room's stillness hung heavy as she gently laid the guitar down on the floor. It felt like a futile effort, the muse remaining frustratingly out of reach, leaving her with an empty canvas and an aching desire to create.

Her gaze dropped to the small, black notebook, its pages filled with aborted attempts to capture the essence of their experiences and emotions in song. But today, those pages mocked her, an unforgiving reminder of the creative void that had taken its home within her.

Just as her frustration reached its peak, the bedroom door swung open with a soft creak, and in walked Wanda, a bowl of popcorn cradled in her hand. She plopped down on the bed beside Natasha, her eyes rolling in a knowing, teasing manner.

“How’s writing going?” Wanda asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn to plop into her mouth.

Natasha let out a weary sigh, her notebook momentarily forgotten as she shared her woes with her best friend.

“You have no idea. It's like I've hit a wall, and I can't seem to find my way around it.” Natasha said. “How are we supposed to come up with another album with no songs? It’s been two years. We’re going to be known as one-hit wonders.”

“First off that’s a bit dramatic,” Wanda attempted to calm her down. “We made the hot rock and alternative songs billboard charts for our debut. I think the momentum is still there.”

Wanda cast a glance at the muted TV screen, where a news reporter was still busy dissecting Tony's latest escapade. She couldn't help but roll her eyes, mirroring Natasha's exasperation.

“And of course, our dear Tony adds another branch to the publicity tree. It's almost impressive how consistently he manages to get into trouble.” Wanda shook her head.

After placing her bowl of popcorn on the dresser, Wanda decided to abandon her sitting position and instead flopped onto her belly, propped up on her elbows. She grabbed Natasha's small notebook, a curious glint in her eyes as she skimmed through the handwritten lyrics and scattered notes.

“You know, Nat, I think I see where you're stuck.” Wanda hummed to herself for a moment.

Turning her attention to Wanda, Natasha felt her frustration momentarily ebb away, replaced by curiosity.

“Oh?” Natasha eyed her. “Please, share your wisdom.”

Wanda's eyes sparkled with an unexpected idea, and she pointed to a particular verse in the notebook. Her voice took on a sultry, poetic quality as she suggested a new lyric.

“How about this: "In the shadows of desire, we ignite the night."

Natasha's eyes widened in surprise as the words resonated deep within her. She quickly reached for her instrument and strummed the guitar, incorporating the new lyric into the melody, and in that instant, it all fell into place. A smile grew on her face, and she turned to Wanda.

“Wanda, that's brilliant! Thank you!” Natasha leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I know why I keep you around.”

Wanda beamed in response.

"Speaking of," she began, her voice casual yet laced with an underlying purpose, "we've got a gig this weekend. It's a birthday party for Harley Jameson, you know, the producer's daughter."

Natasha's response was swift and uncompromising, her will clear in her refusal. Her head shook slightly as she firmly voiced her decision, her thoughts already drifting toward the disturbing pattern of her bandmates taking liberties with decisions without consulting her, the lead.

"Absolutely not, Wanda," Natasha declared, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. “Aren’t we better than performing for snot-nosed brats?

Wanda, ever patient and understanding, propped herself up on her elbows.

“Well, when that snot nose brat is paying us fifty thousand dollars plus a retainer,” Wanda shrugs. “And all the booze and food we want.” Her words were measured, spoken with the calm that came from knowing this conversation was inevitable." Nat, remember," she began, "you're the lead, not the boss. We haven’t been taking gigs because you've been declining. You know we need to keep the momentum going."

Natasha's jaw clenched in frustration. She leaned back, her gaze shifting to the ceiling as she contemplated her response.

"There's a reason, Wanda," Natasha explained, her voice tinged with concern. "Our brand has taken a beating lately with all the scandals we've had over the years. It’s not a good look being so new. I want us to lay low for a while, let the storm pass."

Wanda sighed, her eyes reflecting her understanding of Natasha's concerns. But she also recognized the band's need to keep going ahead despite the challenges.

"Nat," Wanda said, her voice gentle and reassuring, "I get it, I really do. But we'll be fine. Harley's party should be a breeze, and I promise we'll stay out of trouble. We'll stick to the music, no antics."

Natasha's hesitation lingered. Ultimately, the trust she had in Wanda, her lifelong friend and partner-in-crime, began to outweigh her reservations. She finally nodded, a reluctant but willing acceptance of the gig.

"Alright, alright," Natasha conceded. “We'll do it. But just this one, and we'll play it safe."

Wanda's eyes sparkled with a victorious smile, recognizing that she had won this battle for now. With that agreement, they returned to their songwriting.

**************

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the manicured lawn of Harley Jameson's grand estate, Velvet Rebellion gathered on the makeshift stage. Around them, staff and party planners began to decorate the backyard. Their instruments glistened under the setting and stage lights.

Natasha, her guitar slung securely across her shoulder, couldn't help but notice Tony, seated behind the drum kit, his sunglasses doing little to hide the lingering effects of his earlier indulgence. She approached him with a stern expression, a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Tony, you better get it together," She warned. "We're not messing this up tonight."

Tony, ever the charmer, brushed off her concerns with an easy smile and a wave of his hand.

"Nat, I promise, I'm fine. See?"

With that, he launched into a lively drum solo, his sticks dancing skillfully across the drumheads. The rhythm was tight, the sound electrifying. Natasha couldn't help but acknowledge his undeniable talent, even as she sighed in resignation.

"Great," she muttered to herself, "the sunglasses are his secret weapon now."

Standing beside Natasha, Steve placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. His quiet and calming presence was a balm to her nerves.

"It's alright, Natasha," He reassured her, his voice steady and comforting. "We'll get through this gig, just like our old days. Tony’s recovering but he seems fine."

Together they glance back to their bandmate who was more than likely inebriated. Tony chugged a bottle of water, before crushing it and dropping it down onto the floor beside him.

Natasha's gaze softened as she looked at Steve, a small smile forming on her lips. “Yeah, he’s the epitome of fine.”

“Okay,” Steve pulled her gently to the side. “What’s the problem?”

“Nothing,” Natasha shrugged. “I just can’t help but think that gigs like this are beneath us. I mean we went from performing at the MTV Video Music Awards to this? A sweet sixteen?”

Steve looked at her. He had been through thick and thin with Natasha and knew the depth of her concerns.

“Natasha,” He replied. “I get your worries, but I promise this is a good thing for us. Todd Jameson is one of the biggest music producers in Hollywood right now. There will be a lot of executives here just to support his daughter. Think of what that could mean for us.”

“Fine,” Natasha nodded. “But if he fucks up I kick his ass.”

“Oh, you bet. Right after I’m done kicking it,” Steve joked causing Natasha to burst into laughter.

Natasha steps back over to the mic. “Alright let’s take it from the top.”

As Natasha prepared to lead the band into their rehearsal of the first song, the peacefulness of the backyard rehearsal space was abruptly disrupted by the arrival of Harley Jameson. She swept onto the scene with all the extravagance befitting a Hollywood princess, accompanied by a harried-looking party planner and another woman, who appeared to be a guest.

Harley, the embodiment of a spoiled heiress, immediately began issuing orders with a sense of entitlement that left the party planner flustered.

"No, no, no! These decorations are all wrong! Change them around! The mirror ball should be over here. And I want a live peacock by the pool. It's not too much to ask, is it?" Harley demanded impatiently.

The party planner, clearly overwhelmed, tried to keep up with Harley's demands. "Harley, we only have a few hours before the party starts. It's going to be challenging to make all these changes in such a short time."

Harley huffed, uninterested in the logistical challenges she was causing. "I don't care about that. Just get it done. My dad said I could have whatever I wanted."

Meanwhile, Harley's attention shifted to Velvet Rebellion, her face lighting up with enthusiasm.

"Oh, my God! I've been dying to meet you! I'm a huge fan!" she exclaimed with excitement. “I’m so happy I could get you here.”

She bounded over to the band, seemingly oblivious to the chaos she was creating, and introduced them to the party planner and you.

"This is Velvet Rebellion!" Harley introduced with enthusiasm. "Steve, the keyboardist, Tony on the drums, Bucky on the electric guitar, Wanda, the second lead singer and bass guitar, and Natasha, the incredible lead singer!"

You and the other woman exchanged glances, your expressions a mixture of frustration and amusement at the whirlwind that was Harley Jameson. You gave a small wave, opting to be in the background of this exchange.

Wanda, ever the peacekeeper, managed to maintain her composure and put on a friendly smile despite Harley's overwhelming energy. She nodded graciously at Harley's enthusiasm.

"Oh, thank you so much, Harley!" Wanda replied with genuine warmth. "We're thrilled to meet you too. Your party looks like it's going to be incredible!"

Harley's energy showed no signs of waning as she delved into the details of the band's performance. When Wanda mentioned their planned first song, "Smoke and Mirrors," Harley immediately piped up with an alternative suggestion.

"No, no, no," Harley interrupted with fervor. "I want you to start with 'Ink and Whiskey.' It's my favorite!"

Natasha, who had been preparing to protest the sudden change to their setlist, hesitated as she saw Wanda's meek demeanor. However, it was clear that Harley's demand had disrupted their carefully planned sequence.

Natasha began to voice her concerns, but Harley's retort was swift and smart-mouthed.

“We’ve already planned this out for-” Natasha began.

“Oh, you can change it, can’t you? It’s just a silly setlist,” Harly questioned.

Before Natasha could respond, you intervened with a calm yet authoritative tone.

"Harley, let's tone it down a bit," You advised, your demeanor oozing an air of authority that surprised Natasha. Harley listened, her earlier defiance giving way to a more composed demeanor.

“Sorry, I’m just excited,” Harley shrugged.

Natasha found herself intrigued by your presence and the respect Harley seemed to show you.

"Alright," Natasha conceded with a smile, "since it's your birthday, we'll start with 'Ink and Whiskey.'"

Wanda offered a nod of agreement, and the tension in the air began to dissipate.

Harley, feeling triumphant, turned her attention to the party planner.

"Sarah, darling, let's make sure everything is perfect. I want it to be a night to remember!" Harley changed the subject, pulling you both back into a conversation with ease.

Sarah, the party planner, nodded and tried to hide her relief that the brief crisis had passed.

"Of course, Harley. Everything will be just as you want it."

Natasha watched the exchange between Harley and Sarah, her curiosity piqued more by you.

“Who’s the chick?” Natasha pointed over to you with a tilt of her head. She got shrugs from Steve and Bucky. Tony was way too distracted to answer as he flirted with one of the staff. Wanda squinted to see if she could guess.

“I don’t know,” Wanda said. “She looks vaguely familiar, but I’m guessing it’s not her mom.”

“Interesting,” Natasha mumbled to herself. She shook her head. There was no time for whatever the thumping in her heart was proving to be. She was here for the band and for the music. Also for the money, she couldn’t forget the money.

As the preparations for the party continued, your cell phone suddenly rang, breaking the conversation flow. You excused yourself with a polite smile and stepped away from the group, heading toward a quieter corner of the backyard a few feet away.

Natasha couldn't help but overhear snippets of your conversation, the tone of your voice suggesting a heartfelt exchange, likely with a significant other. Natasha discreetly glanced in your direction, her curiosity getting the best of her.

Your voice held a gentle warmth as you spoke softly into your phone, your words filled with affection and longing.

"I miss you too, sweetheart. Yeah, the party's getting started here in a couple of hours. It's not the same without you. Can't wait to see you soon." You smiled.

Natasha couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, but the tenderness in your voice painted a clear picture of a loving connection between you and someone special.

Meanwhile, Harley, always the inquisitive host, began questioning Steve and Bucky about the band and its music.

"So, guys," Harley started, her interest genuine, "Have you ever thought about going solo? I am dying to know the secret."

Steve and Bucky, accustomed to answering these questions, engaged in a friendly chat with Harley, even if they also found her annoying.

As Natasha discreetly observed you from the corner of her eye, she couldn't help but be captivated by your natural beauty. You were dressed in a simple white t-shirt and form-fitting jeans, a look that should have been unremarkable, but on you, it was utterly captivating.

The way your hair was styled, framing your face in soft waves, added to your appeal. Your skin had a radiant glow, and your features held an understated elegance that drew Natasha's attention. Despite the casual attire, you exuded a timeless charm that was impossible to ignore.

Natasha found herself admiring the effortless beauty that seemed to emanate from you and she wanted to know more.

Just as Natasha started to pretend she wasn't eavesdropping, you turned around with a warm smile, catching her off guard. She quickly toyed with her microphone stand, feigning indifference.

You found her reaction amusing but were soon drawn back into your phone conversation. Natasha couldn't help but wonder about the person on the other end of that call and what had sparked such a genuine smile on your face.

She toyed with the mic stand for as long as possible, physically forcing herself not to look your way. It’s a few more minutes before you returned to the group. You turned your attention to Harley and Sarah.

"Harley, don't forget, you have that hair appointment in an hour," You reminded her, glancing at your watch. "We need to make sure you're all set for your big night."

Harley, momentarily distracted by the band's presence, nodded in agreement.

"Oh, right! Thanks, y/n. I'll head out now," Harley replied with a grin. She turned to the band and offered her farewells. "Catch you all later!"

With that, Harley and Sarah departed, leaving Velvet Rebellion alone in the backyard.

As the group began to disperse, you took a moment to say goodbye to the band.

“See you guys tonight,” You said. “I’m sure you’ll do great. If you need refreshments just ask one of the staff and they will be happy to help you with anything you need.”

Natasha responded with a small smile and a nod, a subtle acknowledgment of the brief but pleasant interaction.

Once you, Harley, and Sarah were out of earshot, the rest of the band couldn't resist teasing Natasha. Wanda, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, chimed in.

"Uh oh, I know that look," Wanda teased, earning a knowing chuckle from the others. Natasha's momentary fascination with you hadn't gone unnoticed, and her bandmates were more than happy to playfully nudge her about it.

“There’s no look, I don’t have a look.” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Sure, you don’t,” Wanda grinned. “Any bets on how long until she gets her number?”

“I say within the hour,” Tony raised his hand pulling out a single, crinkled five-dollar bill from his back pocket.

“Fifteen says they sleep together after the show,” Bucky shrugged. Steve is the only one to remain silent.

“I don’t know,” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “I think I’ll save my thoughts for later. The girl barely said two words to any of us.”

“Thank you,” Natasha said. “Now, can we rehearse like a proper band?”

She tried to erase your image from her head as she positioned herself in front of the microphone.

From the top.

*****************

The night was alive with energy as Velvet Rebellion took the stage, the crowd gathered around, eager to soak in every note of their music. Natasha oozed confidence and charisma, a star in every sense of the word. The opening chords of "Ink and Whiskey" filled the air, and the crowd erupted in cheers. This birthday party was a rager if she’d ever seen one. Natasha always considered rich people stiff and uptight. Going to plenty of parties once their debut kicked off their careers. Stiff drinks, weird pleasantries, and even more drugs. She was being proven wrong with this particular shindig.

She moved to the edge of the stage, her presence magnetic. She sang with a passion that could be felt in every corner of the space, her voice carrying the weight of their lyrics. The audience couldn't help but be drawn into her performance, and they eagerly joined in, singing along and dancing to the beat.

Wanda, standing beside Natasha, bled a different kind of cool and calm. Her steady presence provided the perfect balance to Natasha's fiery performance. It was clear to anyone watching that their dynamic was the secret to their success.

Natasha lowered her head, giving Wanda the floor to sing her part of the chorus. Wanda’s hands moved steadily between the chords as she sang into the microphone.

Ink and whiskey, the pages of our hearts,

Tangled in the chapters where love starts,

In the darkness, our secrets we confide,

With every word written, our souls collide

Natasha steps forward, moving close enough to the microphone so that she and Wanda could harmonize the last verse. Her eyes travel from Wanda’s, smiling as they share in the energy and joy of being on stage before she maneuvers herself to face the crowd.

In the night's embrace, our love's sweet refrain,

Ink and whiskey, like a runaway train,

Through the highs and lows, we'll find our way,

With every word we write, love's here to stay

In the front row, Harley danced with her friends, reveling in the music and the excitement of the night. The atmosphere was electric, and the joy was contagious.

As Natasha sang, she scanned the crowd, her eyes landing on familiar faces among the sea of B-listers and music enthusiasts. But the one that stood out the most was you. Your eyes locked, and Natasha couldn't resist a playful wink, a silent acknowledgment of your earlier encounter.

You raised your glass in a silent toast and clapped enthusiastically when the song came to an end. You weren’t a huge fan of the music genre but you could see why Velvet Rebellion was such a rising star amongst new artists. Their stage presence was undeniable, the song was catchy and the beat was electrifying. It helped that Natasha was cute. All good things in your book. You can’t take your eyes off the stage as they move into their next song. It’s a bit disjointed considering Harley made them change the setlist around the last minute but it seems smooth either way. Natasha dances a bit for this one, her body movements fluid and effortless. Almost as if she’s had some training.

You’re momentarily distracted when a distant family member comes to say hello.

The show must go on as Natasha continues to sing her heart out.

**********************

The final notes of their setlist rang out, and the crowd roared in appreciation. Velvet Rebellion had given their all, and now it was time for the DJ to take over and keep the party going.

Wanda had convinced Natasha to stay a while longer, promising that the night was still young and full of possibilities. Tony, ever the charmer, remarked with a grin, "I see a few MILFs in the crowd that I wouldn't mind mingling with." He slipped into the crowd with ease, chatting up the first single woman he saw.

Natasha, however, remained all about business. She stood at the bar, surveying the party and keeping a watchful eye on her bandmates. The chaos and revelry around her seemed to blur into a colorful swirl of dancing bodies and laughter.

It was then that you approached her, catching Natasha's attention. Your presence was a welcome change of pace, and Natasha couldn't help but appreciate the genuine compliment she received.

"You guys were incredible," You said with a smile. "I'm impressed."

Natasha, always a woman of few words in such settings, offered a gracious nod of acknowledgment.

You extended your hand with a warm smile as you introduced yourself, "I'm y/n. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Natasha shook your hand firmly and replied, "Natasha. Likewise."

You couldn't help but notice Natasha's reserved demeanor. Almost as if she felt too cool to be here.

"I couldn't help but wonder," You began, your curiosity evident as you raised your voice above the music. "why aren't you out there dancing like the rest of your bandmates?"

Natasha offered a wry smile and shot back, "I could ask you the same thing."

“Touche,” You nodded. “I’m not much of a party girl.” You turn towards the bartender. “Do you want a drink? Eric here makes the best mojitos.”

“Sure, I’ll have a sex on the beach,” Natasha asked.

“You heard the woman,” You jokingly said to Eric as he began to make your drinks. As you focused your attention on grabbing a few napkins, Natasha gave you a once-over. Your party dress was a delightful balance of simplicity and style. The knee-length and backless dress showcased a flattering silhouette, hugging your curves in all the right places. The deep, midnight-blue fabric was decorated with tiny, shimmering glitter that seemed to twinkle with each movement you made. Its sweetheart neckline and delicate spaghetti straps added a touch of femininity to the ensemble, while the mid-thigh slit allowed for easy movement as you moved. The overall effect was a cute yet elegant dress that perfectly suited the festive atmosphere of the party.

Natasha's observant eye caught the jewelry adorning your wrist. It was subtle but tasteful, hinting at a level of refinement that didn't go unnoticed. It was at least half of her salary for tonight’s show. This only interested her more. She needed to know who you were. She wanted to know the mystery behind you and your name.

“Here you go,” You step back over to Natasha to hand her a drink. “I hope I’m not being too forward.”

“Not at all,” Natasha shrugged.

"You know, if you're looking for a bit more quiet, we could step inside for a breather." You suggested, tilting your chin towards the house.

Natasha considered the offer, realizing that a change of scenery might be a welcome respite from the party's chaos. With a small smile, she agreed, "That sounds like a good idea."

You led Natasha through the sea of people and inside the mansion to a nearby office where the music's relentless thump was muffled, and the atmosphere was quieter. It was a welcome change from the frenzied party outside.

As you settled into seats close to each other on the couch, drinks in hand, Natasha couldn't help herself and began to ask you questions.

“Why did you ask me in here tonight?” Natasha asked. “Not that I’m complaining. I have been invited into much worse places.”

“Thanks, I think,” You chuckled. You sensed Natasha's curiosity and offered a simple explanation, your eyes holding Natasha's in an unspoken connection."I enjoy meeting new people," you confessed, your voice soft but sincere. "And I've decided I wanted to talk with you."

You took a sip of your drink, your gaze thoughtful. "I also wanted to apologize for Harley's behavior earlier. She can be... spirited at times."

Natasha waved off the apology with a small smile, understanding that spirited was one way to describe Harley's antics.

You went on to explain, "Usually, I don't speak up like that, but my uncle has a way of spoiling Harley. It's... complicated."

Natasha's curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, "Your uncle? He’s Todd Jameson?"

You took a moment before revealing, "Yes. He and my dad are half-brothers. Making Harley my little cousin. I don’t admit it often."

The revelation left Natasha intrigued. She had heard the name Todd Jameson before, a figure of significance in the entertainment industry. The connection between you and Harley was now becoming clearer, and Natasha couldn't help but wonder about the family connection.

“That would make your dad…” Natasha began.

“Nick Fury, the one and only,” You finished for her. “Different fathers. My dad is somewhere out there tonight. It’s a thing I don’t like to admit to strangers.”

“I get it,” Natasha nodded.

The revelation about your family connection to Todd Jameson made Natasha pause for a moment. She had always admired the award-winning jazz player turned talent manager, Nick Fury, from afar. His contributions to the music industry were legendary, and Natasha couldn't deny that she was a fan of his music.

She decided not to fangirl, though, and instead offered a genuine smile. "Your dad is a legend. I've always been a fan of his music."

Your eyes lit up with appreciation. "Thank you, Natasha. I'll be sure to pass that along to him." You set your half-empty cup onto a coaster, before turning back to Natasha. “So, watching you on that stage. Not many people have that star power. I was wondering if you have experience dancing? You were incredible.”

Natasha's eyes sparkled as she recalled her performance. "The way I danced on stage during our set, it's a part of who I am. I guess you could say it's a bit of my background showing through."

Your curiosity piqued, and you guessed, "Ballet, then?"

Natasha nodded. "Yes, I did ballet for sixteen years as a child. I even got into Juilliard."

Your eyes widened in admiration. "That's amazing, Natasha. How did you get into singing and music?"

Natasha took a sip of her drink and smiled as she delved into the story of how she got into music. It was a story that she didn't often share, but there was something about her conversation with you that made her feel comfortable opening up.

"It all started back in high school," Natasha began. "I was really into dancing, and it was an elective at my school. But then, one day, I decided to join the choir on a whim. And I fell in love with singing and songwriting. I grew up in a rough neighborhood. I needed something to keep me out of the house and off the streets."

She paused for a moment, reminiscing about those early days. "So, I started writing songs, and my friends Wanda and Steve would go over to Steve’s small bedroom. We'd play our rented instruments and experiment with different sounds. It was just a fun little hobby at first."

Natasha's gaze drifted, lost in the memories of those simple beginnings. "Then Bucky, Steve’s best friend well, he's always been a bit of a troublemaker, but he's got a talent for the electric guitar. And Tony...his dad's pretty wealthy and bought us all our equipment. Plus, he's good at the drums."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "It was a bit of a motley crew, but that's how Velvet Rebellion came to be. We started playing in small venues, dive bars, and country clubs. And somehow, we made it here."

Natasha's usually guarded demeanor had softened in your presence, and she found herself enjoying the opportunity to share a piece of her journey with someone who seemed genuinely interested in her story.

“I love that,” You nodded. You and Natasha share a smile before she asked.

“Is your boyfriend here tonight? I don’t want to keep you too long,” She fished for more information.

“No, no,” You shake your head. “No boyfriend. You?”

“Not really into monogamy at the moment,” She shrugged. She doesn’t know if this statement will bite her in the ass later but for some reason she trusted you. “Tell me about you. Are you in the family business or?”

"I've always had a bit of a connection to the music world," You began. "As a teenager, I sang a few backup vocals for artists my uncle produced. I guess you could say I almost pursued a career in music, but life had other plans for me. I got pregnant at seventeen. Dedicated to finish school and go to college."

You took a thoughtful swig of your drink and continued, "Now, I'm a publicist. I don't mean to brag, but I'm good at what I do.When I'm not working, I'm taking care of my daughter, Isabella. She's nine years old and the light of my life."

Your face softened as you spoke about your daughter, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and joy. "She's with her dad for the weekend," you added, "and we co-parent quite well."

Natasha was genuinely interested in your life outside of the party scene, and she couldn't resist asking, "Do you have any pictures of Isabella? I'd love to see her."

Your eyes twinkled with delight as you pulled out your phone and began to share a few adorable images of your daughter. Natasha couldn't help but smile as she admired the photos, enjoying this glimpse into your world beyond the music and the party.

“Here she is at gymnastics practice,” You flipped through a few pictures of Isabella’s smiling face. “And swim. She is a little spitfire and she wants to do it all.”

“Wow,” Natasha smiled as if Isabella were her own child. “Do you ever want more?”

“Maybe one day,” You said wistfully. “For now I feel pretty full with everything in life. You?”

You noticed the change in Natasha's expression and asked, "Is something on your mind?"

Natasha sighed, leaning back into her seat. "I just don't know if I'm cut out for motherhood," she admitted. "I have a younger sister, Yelena, she’s attending the University of Cambridge in England now. She's even developed a bit of a British accent." Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.

"But," she continued, "I enjoy the fast-paced life, the music, the performances, and the constant movement. A significant other won’t quite understand that I don't always have the time. Not that I don’t ever want that someday but…” Her voice died down.

You listened empathetically, understanding the complexities of Natasha's life as a musician. "I get that," you acknowledged. "But it's essential to find the right balance for you, whether it's in your music career, personal life, or something in between. My dad was able to do it. When he crossed over into hip-hop there was definitely a lot he missed but he still made things happen"

“Really? Well, I will have to ask him for pointers.” She grinned.

Just as the conversation was reaching its peak, there came a polite knock at the office door. A member of the party staff popped in to inform you that they were ready to sing "Happy Birthday" to Harley.

You turned to Natasha with a warm smile. "It was nice meeting and talking to you, Natasha," you said genuinely.

Natasha, not wanting the connection to end, began, "You know, I'd love to..."

But before she could finish her sentence, your cheeks flushed, and you interrupted already knowing what she was going to say, your voice bold, "Are you going to call me, or are you going to leave me hanging in the wind?"

Natasha couldn't help but laugh at your sudden assertiveness. It was a pleasant surprise. "I’m not that type of woman," Natasha said. At your look, she laughed again. “You got me there.”

You returned her smile and handed Natasha your phone, saying, "You'll just have to trust me with your number instead, and I'll call." Asking for her number instead eased the pressure off Natasha, and also your nerves at hoping she’d call.

You gave Natasha a wink and chucked a thumb over your shoulder to indicate you were going back to the party. Natasha nodded and watched you walk away. When her eyes trailed lower she doesn’t even feel guilty about it.

Natasha left the office, rejoining her bandmates outside in the backyard, just as they were preparing to sing "Happy Birthday" to Harley. The festive atmosphere was in full swing, and the energy of the party was infectious.

As the crowd gathered around Harley, Natasha's eyes scanned the faces, and they landed on you, who was standing among the partygoers. Your eyes met, and you shared a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you had developed.

Tony, always quick to pick up on things, couldn't help but tease Natasha when he noticed her grin. "So, did you get her number?"

Natasha rolled her eyes at Tony's assumption but then burst into laughter. "No," she replied with a playful smirk, "she took mine."

The party was still in full swing when someone on stage stopped the music with a loud, "Hey, everyone! Can I have your attention, please?"

The spotlight shifted to the stage, and all eyes turned toward the source of the interruption. It was a friend of Harley's, and he had a mischievous grin on his face as he spoke into the microphone.

"I have a special surprise for our birthday girl tonight," he announced. "We have someone here who's agreed to sing 'Happy Birthday' to Harley, and I think you're all in for a treat."

A collective cheer and applause erupted from the crowd as they eagerly anticipated the surprise. The spotlight moved to you, highlighting your face and putting you on the spot. You managed to not look like a deer in headlights which was a feat in itself. Natasha's curiosity was piqued, especially considering you had mentioned you weren’t much of a singer.

You tried to protest shyly, but the crowd begged you to come up on stage. Encouraged by their cheers, you reluctantly made your way up to the spotlight.

Once on stage, you cleared your throat and took a deep breath, your nerves palpable. You began with a little birthday speech, your voice tinged with affection and humor.

"I want to wish a happy birthday to my cousin Harley," You began, your smile directed at the birthday girl. "Even though she's a bit of a brat," you teased, earning laughs from the crowd, "she's my brat, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Then, as expected, you began to sing "Happy Birthday." Your voice, which you had modestly downplayed earlier, was nothing short of remarkable. It was soulful, sweet, and filled with a depth of emotion that resonated through the entire backyard.

The crowd, including Natasha, was utterly blown away by the unexpected talent that you possessed. Your voice filled the air, making the birthday celebration even more special and memorable. It was a moment of pure magic, and Natasha couldn't help but be captivated by your incredible singing ability.

Natasha decided two things then and there. One, she really liked you, and two, boy, was she in for a ride.

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov

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tinytalkingtina · 1 month

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Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

@devondespresso Tagged me in this forever ago and I finally had one wiggle its way into my brain!

This week been fiddling with the idea of a true role reversal Steddie, with Eddie as the popular jock and Steve as the metalhead (as opposed to a punk). This got a little away from me, haha. No idea for a story or how other characters might fit in, but if anyone wants to take the concept and run with it feel free!

Eddie

Eddie is still poor, and still lives with his uncle (let's pretend he had to repeat a grade due to the chaos of moving in with Wayne). But he's Hawkin's star track runner/lightweight wrestler, channeling his energy into sports and competition. His grades are probably still not great, but since he's winning awards at meets, teachers let a lot more slide, and he skates by most of his classes with low C's. If he's loud and excited, then well, that's just what jocks do, right?

Wayne works nights, so Eddie is usually left to his own devices. Sure, the trailer can't hold that many people (and maybe Eddie has a bit of a chip on his shoulder that he lives in the trailer park), but this is the Midwest, and Eddie is creative. He hosts big bonfire ragers out in the woods, deep enough that the cops can't easily break them up.

Eddie's "Munson Doctrine" is from the perspective of being a jock. Mixed with his insecurities, it becomes about staying on top, no matter what. That means dating around, taking girls out most Fridays. He likes girls and has plenty of fun. And if he occasionally slips in a fantasy or two about drug dealer Steve Harrington pinning him against a wall with that knife of his, no one needs to know.

Steve

Then we have Steve. Steve's had piano lessons since he was 5. A framed picture of him in his bow tie and tiny suit at his first recital sits on his mom's desk. He's good at sports and does Little League as a kid, but they don't hold his interest, not the way music does. When he hits middle school, him and his dad have a huge fight over him refusing to try out for any sports. The cracks were already there, because his parents are louder than they think when they argue. To drown them out, he turns on the radio, spinning the dials. By chance, he finds a Black Sabbath song. Something in it speaks to him, gives an outlet to the frustration and anger he's feeling.

Steve picks up drums to play in band at school, but he also borrows books from the library and teaches himself guitar after begging his mom for one for his 13th birthday. He makes a few friends, they start a band. As he enters high school his parents fight more. His grades, never great to begin with, slip further, so no more allowance for Steve. The first time he tries to steals a tape, he's caught almost immediately. But he gets better at it over time. Can't steal tattoos though, and Steve's not a great artist. So maybe he starts dealing. His parents work late most nights, so they don't need to know about his...extracurricular hobbies.

Even if he's not at the top of the high school food chain, Steve's still good at reading people and social situations. I don't think he would have the desire to DM AD&D, but I think Steve makes a good player, always solid at strategizing. In the hallways, he sees and overhears things, enough that he's able to keep the heat off him and his friends with some clever insinuation, and the threat to cut off anyone who tries something.

He sees the way that loudmouth jock Eddie Munson's eyes flick down to his lips when he buys weed off him at parties too, the guy isn't nearly as subtle as he thinks he is. Steve would love to take him down a couple pegs, if Eddie'd let him.

Thanks to @little-annie for some ideas on fleshing metalhead!Steve out more :D

Edit: check out the role reversal steddie tag for snippets of what Annie and I are writing now :)

No pressure tags to some folks (and if anyone wants to be tagged in the future let me know!): @augustjustice @hbyrde36 @puppy-steve @soaringornithopter

@hairstevington @eyesofshinigami

#steddie #wiggly wednesday #writing games #tinawrites #steve harrington #eddie munson #they're both intended to be bisexual #just wanted to make that clear lol #role reversal steddie

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 1 year

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Accidentally Finding Family (Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader) *PLATONIC, PARENTAL

Characters: Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: HYDRA, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, mention of death of family, mention of amputation

Request: Hi can I request a teen reader where she is kind of like Bucky and is a hydra agent that is from the 40s and the team finds her in a base in cryofreeze and Steve and Bucky help her learn to adjust to the future and maybe Bucky helps her deal with nightmares? Or maybe she also has a metal arm and he helps her become less insecure about it idk. Also she ends up seeing Steve and Bucky as parental figures with cute family bonding? Sorry if that’s all over the place!

“Do you have any goals you have in mind for the next year or so? Next five years?” The question, targeted at Bucky, was being asked by his therapist. A few months ago, Bucky wasn’t sure what he would have answered with. A few months ago, Bucky was still filled with grief of a life lost, a life tainted with torture, his memories torn and ripped to shreds with only little fragments he could make out. But Bucky had done a hell of a lot of healing since rejoining his best friend. With therapy, Steve and Wanda’s help, those shreds of his past were being sewn back together, he’d come to accept that while his past is something he’d never fully recover from, he was still in possession of a young body, ready to try to live the life he actually wanted to live before HYDRA. A life with his new friends, and his one old one. He was ready to look into the future.

He sat back, relaxing into the settee, thinking to himself, before he let his thoughts leave his mouth. “A family.” He started. He looked over at his therapist, who smiled, nodding and notioning him to elaborate. “I loved looking after my little sister before the war. I loved looking out for Steve when he was still a punk… I think it’s always been a part of me to want to look after and care for people. Biological or adopted… the idea of having a child, someone to look after, someone to care for, be there for… to be needed by someone… I’d like that.”

“That’s definitely a doable goal I think. I think you’re finally in a place where you’d be able to be a caregiver. If you want to be sure, there are volunteering positions to help people at events- young children, camps for teenagers, so on, so forth. There’s also courses to give people more skills and knowledge on raising children that I can enrol you in?” She suggested. Bucky agreed. Not long after all of that, the session ended, and Bucky began his walk back to base to see if anyone had heard from the rest of the team yet. Almost all of the Avengers- except Bruce- had gone out on a mission. Originally he had been meant to go himself, but when the team found out that he had a session booked the same day and he might not make it, they removed him from it, knowing that his healing is far more important than another gun on their already overpowered team.

About halfway through the walk, was when his phone in his pocket buzzed repeatedly. He felt it easily, and he pulled the phone out, seeing Steve’s name on the front, and he answered it, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey Steve, I’m on my way back now, are you already back?” He asked Steve, continuing his walk.

“Bucky I need to ask you a serious question and I need you to answer me to the best of your ability.” Steve’s serious tone made Bucky freeze on the side of the street. His eyes darted around the busy streets, finding a corner that was silent and hidden in shadows, and dashing over to it, before answering Steve.

“Alright. Ask away.” Bucky answered.

“Do you know of any other Winter Soldiers?” Steve asked, and immediately Bucky’s heart thudded.

“N-No. Wait, did you find more?” Bucky asked.

“We don’t know… she’s a kid, Buck.” Steve answered. Bucky wanted to be sick, his mind already racing on what exactly they had found. A girl, a young girl, a child, according to Steve. And from whatever information and evidence they had found, it was enough to point them back to the Winter Soldier program and him. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut.

“Is she alive?”

“Yeah. Yeah she’s alive, we’re trying to treat her for a few injuries, but we’re having issues… James I think… she’d really benefit with you being here.” He told his best friend. That seemed odd to Bucky. He was a mythical monster to the other weapons of HYDRA, used to scare them into obeying, and he had no doubt that stories of him, even after he had escaped, would have been used to bring fear, especially to children. Still, he trusted Steve and his judgement.

“Alright. I’ll be there soon.” Bucky answered shortly, hanging up, and his once leisurely stroll back to base, turned into a long sprint marathon.

He arrived back in less than 20 minutes, finding Natasha already waiting for him, her motioning for him to follow her. “How did you find her?” He asked her.

“They realised we were attacking them and raised the alarm, and seemingly let her loose with some of their other agents to try and slow us down. That didn’t happen though.” Natasha explained, power walking through the base.

“What do you mean it didn’t happen?” Bucky asked.

“She turned on them. She killed several of the guards and scientists herself and we found her in the process of trying to kill the head researcher. He’s getting medical care- it’s 50/50 whether he’ll live or not, not that I really care. After we stopped her, she surrendered to us, but she’s not talking and won’t let anyone touch her. We really don’t want to restrain her Buck, since that will undoubtedly make her worse, but I realised she was bleeding from her leg and we think she’s been shot but we can’t treat her.” Natasha explained, stopping at a door, and finally turning to him.

“How can I help with this? If anything, she’s going to have heard about me and become terrified.” He questioned, her features softening into a sad smile.

“Can you take your jacket off and your glove? So she can see it?” She asked. Bucky’s eyes darted down to his arm, flexing his robotic fingers, before looking up at Natasha, unsure and confused. “We’ll introduce you, just… be as soft and kind as possible with her, okay? Trust me.” She asked. Bucky sighed, and with some hesitance, he removed his glove, shoving it into his jacket pocket, before pulling his jacket off, leaving him with just his short sleeve shirt, his arm on full display. Bucky nodded to her, and she opened the door, stepping in and aside to let him in.

“Come on kiddo, I promise it’ll be over before you know it.” Bucky walked into the scene of Tony trying to talk to you, offering a small bag of fruity snacks, though you kept your head down and totally ignored his presence beside you. Bruce was on the other side of you, looking lost on what he can do without making anything worse. Steve was leant against the nearby wall, spotting Bucky and Nat first, and he stood up straight. Bucky glanced at him, before properly looking at you, and when he did, he understood.

You were sitting on the medical bed, legs stretched out, your head low, and your arms hugged against your body. Your arms were what Bucky hyper fixated on. They were metal, both of them, all the way up to the shoulders. You had tucked your arms to the best of your ability under the thin blanket that already had a growing blood stain where one of your legs were. Bucky wasn’t sure what had happened to you that meant you had to have both your arms amputated and replaced by robotic ones, or even if there was a reason or if they just did that, but that didn’t matter right now. You were clearly uncomfortable with them being seeing, and your hatred for being touched was something that Bucky empathised with.

“Thanks for coming so quickly.” Steve spoke up, making Tony and Bruce turn as well, and after a moment, Bucky watched as your eyes also looked up to see who was there, and met his. He was convinced he’d see you flinch, be terrified, and he would make this whole situation worse, but then your eyes left his, and fell onto his arm, and he watched you relax. You actually relaxed in his presence. That immediately made Bucky relax as well as he slowly stepped closer. Tony moved out of his way so he could be by your side.

“English?” Bucky clarified and you nodded at him. “Alright. I’m James, but my friends call me Bucky. I know better than anyone how scary this all is, and how you probably really don’t want anyone prodding or poking at you anymore.” He spoke softly, keeping eye contact with you. He caught in the corner of his eye that you raised one arm from under the sheets, hesitantly reaching for him, specifically his metal arm. He reached out as well, carefully taking your metal arm in his, and your eyes stared at his arm, as the metal sheets slid and moved to adjust, similar to your own, before you looked back at him.

“They hurt you too?” You asked quietly. Bucky swallowed hard, knowing who ‘they’ were, and he nodded.

“Lost it originally from falling out of a train, but they kidnapped me and did this… my friends have helped me adjust, and they want to help you too.” He explained to you.

“They…” You hesitated, looking down at your hand holding his, before continuing. “They took mine. I don’t know why. They just did.” You explained to him, and Bucky nodded along, listening to you while also clenching his jaw, trying not to cry. Trying not to squeeze your hand on accident because of his anger.

“They were wrong for doing that, they were pure evil, and I promise you, you’re safe now, and they can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” He smiled reassuringly. “As soon as we tend to that bullet wound, we’ll get you settled in, you can start school, be a normal teenager, or as normal as you can be, how does that sound?” He asked, and after a lot of hesitation, you nodded, and with Bucky holding your hand, you allowed Bruce to tend to your wound.

You didn’t talk to anyone for the first week, other than Bucky, but slowly started talking to the others as time passed. They got you situated in one of the bedrooms on base, but after FRIDAY reported you kept hiding under the bed or locking yourself on purpose in the bathroom and sleeping on the cold tile floor, Bucky made the suggestion to move you into a smaller space. He didn’t have to go into detail when explaining you weren’t used to sleeping on a nice warm bed in a giant room, and how it probably felt alien and wrong to sleep there. Tony didn’t have any rooms that were smaller that could function as a bedroom, and it was Steve who suggested you move into an apartment with one of them, that someone clearly being Bucky. Bucky, like showing up to see you in the first place, wasn’t sure about that idea- worried he’d have a relapse with his nightmares and scare you, but he trusted Steve. Tony paid for an upgraded apartment- a two bedroom in brooklyn, still a small walk away from Steve if he was needed, and Bucky moved all his stuff in before they moved you in.

“This is the place.” Bucky told you, opening the door to the apartment, and you cautiously stepped inside, looking around. Bucky didn’t have a lot of things, so other than a bookshelf crammed with books, an old radio, the bulky television and some photos before the war on one wall and another wall of photos from after escaping HYDRA. James wasn’t sure how you’d react to all this, so he watched you diligently. He walked around, leaning on a wall, just watching you. He saw your eyes look around, before you spotted his old radio- one that was close replica to the ones before the war- and you seemed to relax, before walking over to it, gingerly touching it, before turning it on, tuning it a little, seemingly disappointed at the radio station, before looking around, and spotting the pre-war photographs, and walked over, looking at them, and smiling. “You like them?” Bucky asked, walking over slowly.

“They remind me of before the war.” You commented, before seeming to think and turning to him quickly. “Are you from before the war too?” You asked him. Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together.

“Are you? Y/N, what year did they take you?” He demanded.

“1940… 1945? I think? The war was still on…” You explained to him, looking back at the photos, spotting him in his uniform. “You were a sergeant?”

“Y/N.” Bucky stepped closely, gently grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “You were kidnapped by HYDRA before the war? You were frozen?” He asked. You nodded. Bucky hated that. He hated that there was yet another thing you shared with him. Metal arms, HYDRA, lives before the war, being weapons, and thrust into a new world. He’d long accepted that it’s just his life now, but that it happened to you? A kid? He hated it. “Y/N… What do you remember about your life before the war?” He asked.

You talked for hours. Sitting down on the couch, you just talked about all you remembered, bits and pieces, sometimes certain memories popping up from talking and you’d interrupt yourself just to talk about them. You told him about your parents, your dad being in the army, your mom working in a factory where they made ammunition and ballistics, where unfortunately an accident happened with fire and an explosion, and your mother was killed, leaving you alone for a period of time with your dad other seas and unable to return, and no other family to care for you, before you were sent to go live with a foster family until after the war. That family were actually HYDRA. You didn’t know what happened to your dad, if he survived the war, and if he did, if he looked for you or if he was told you had died and he moved on, maybe had a new family. Maybe you had a step mother, half siblings, maybe you were an aunt now… but you didn’t know. Bucky took the time to text your dad’s name and rank in the war to Natasha and ask her to look into him, and she responded an hour later with an obituary, and a date of death and cause. Killed in action. Bucky told you the news softly, and it was then you stopped talking. You sat there for a period of time, just processing what he had said, and Bucky remained sat there, waiting for you.

“...I’m alone, aren’t I?” You finally spoke up. “I’ve lost everything.”

“Not necessarily.” Bucky pointed out. “If your dad was in the military, then there’s probably photographs of him. If any photos were taken of you and your family before the war, I know for a fact that Natasha and Tony can find them, and we can get them printed and framed for you, so you can have something of theirs… and you have me.” He told you. You turned to look at him.

“Really?”

“Of course. As long as you need me, I’m there. I’ve been through exactly the same thing as you, I know exactly how you’re feeling and I want you to be happy and to have as close to a normal life as possible. Since you live with me, that makes me your guardian. If you want to go to school, I’ll go to all your parent-teacher meetings and help with your homework. If you want to do after school activities, I’ll go to all your games and shows and awards. If you want to talk about the 1930’s and 40’s, let’s talk about it, if you want to talk about what happened with HYDRA, let’s talk about it or we can try therapy if you want. Whatever you want to do with your life, I’ll support you no matter what. I’m here for you, no matter what, and I’m not going anywhere.” He told you. You didn’t respond at first, and when you did, you didn’t respond with words. Instead, you crawled across the couch to be closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, and resting your head on his shoulder, and Bucky hugged you back.

“I’d like that. Thank you.” He heard you speak. He held you as the sun went down, and only after realizing you had fallen asleep and he was gonna have to carry you to bed, that he realized something. He’d done it. He’d reached his goal that he had set with his therapist just over a month ago. It was totally unconventional, nothing he could have predicted, but he’d gotten his family. He’d found the child he wanted, the person he wanted to care and be there for, to watch grow and thrive and to help them with that. He’d found you.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @dailyteambucky @mxrvelsaos @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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rookthorne · 1 year

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐭. 𝟐

Bucky had begun to spread your wings, one act after the other — the cage of your innocence now far too small for such beauty to soar. There were still some steps to take for those feathers to feel the wind beneath them, but patience was a virtue Bucky excelled at.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ♆ Pornstar!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ♆ 3.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ♆ Fluff, puns and humour ჻჻჻ SMUT: Oral (F receiving), fingering (F receiving), multiple orgasms, Dom/Sub, Soft Dom!Bucky, light subspace ჻჻჻ KINKS: Light degradation, praise, daddy

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ♆ Who knew the first part would become one of my biggest fics, and who knew that Pornstar!Bucky would also become one of the most popular Bucky AUs I have? I hope y'all enjoy this one, because hot damn...

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ♆ Like U by Rosenfeld ♆ I Want To by Rosenfeld

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ♆ @smutconnoisseur (which, thankfully, this fic didn't kill her completely off)

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ♆ @pupandkisasaesthetics Aesthetic Challenge — Masterlist

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Bucky had stayed all night and into the next day, at least, until he had to leave for work. He parted with a tight, all encompassing hug and a deep kiss, one of which you wished never ended.

“I’ll be back later tonight, don’t get into any trouble,” were his parting words, and just like that, he promised to be back after his shoots to spend the night at your apartment again.

For the whole of the day, you spent it in a stupor – not so much in the clouds, per se, but the feeling of floating on cloud nine had never dissipated. Rather, it grew. Bucky’s confession the previous night still rang around your head like the clashing of symbols, and it was hard to comprehend that it was real.

Nevertheless, Bucky had confessed, and so had you. The weight off of your shoulders alone after the admittance was immeasurable. With that comforting assurance, you powered on through the day and puttered around your apartment, cleaning and maintaining the space.

The hours passed swiftly. Nightfall had arrived in what seemed like only moments when there were a couple of knocks on the wooden front door. You grinned ear to ear and skipped to the door, unlocking the deadbolt and opening it with that same smile that froze on your face at the sight that greeted you.

It was Bucky… with flowers. A bright bouquet of them, a manner of reds and purples, all flourishing in beauty and tied with a velvet black ribbon. He himself was dressed in a black Henley and dark sweats. “Hi, baby.”

“Bucky…” You stood stock still, frozen in shock at such an old fashioned notion – it felt like you were living a moment brought to life. One straight from your romance books. “Hi.”

He grinned and offered the flowers. “Just thought my pretty girl deserved some flowers–call me old fashioned.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest. “Yeah–yeah, y’are, Buck. Come in.” The door opened fully with a quiet creak, and Bucky stepped inside, his cologne filling your senses as he strode past. “How were the shoots?”

Bucky shrugged, then grinned at you over his shoulder. “Same as always, baby.” His boots were loud over the floor as he walked into your kitchen in search of a vase. “Nat kept us entertained as always, and then Steve–fuckin’ punk, he pulled a prank on her, and we never heard the end of it. Remind me to never get on Nat’s bad side.”

“He never learns,” you commented, and Bucky snorted a derisive laugh. “I’m glad they went okay. Are you tired?”

There was a huff of a laugh, “Could never tire of you, kitten.” You spluttered at his words, and he chuckled, then the solid thump of glass on your kitchen counter sounded before he turned around to face you. “Nope. I thought we could jus’ chill tonight, sweetheart.”

You blinked – hadn’t he wanted to do something with you? “But-”

“If–and this is a big if,” Bucky cut in, his eyes sharp as he stared at you. The hesitation must have shown in your expression. Damn him for being able to read you so easily, you inwardly cursed. “The moment and want arises, yes,” Bucky continued, brow raised. “We can do more. But I am not gonna push you, and you shouldn’t push yourself, either.”

Bucky waited a beat, then he tilted his head down, expecting an answer. “Okay,” you agreed. “See how we go.” He winked and pushed off the counter.

“How was your day, kitten?” he hummed, pulling you into his embrace. “What did you get up to?” A kiss on the crown of your head made you smile.

“It was alright. Nothing much, just cleaned up and, well, nothing.” You swayed in Bucky’s arms and looped yours around his broad, muscled back, squeezing tight until he grunted. “You’re cuddly.”

“Am I? Wouldn’t have known,” Bucky teased. He pulled away and kissed you on the lips, the chaste kiss bringing everything below to life – no way would you let him just sit there unsullied, you thought wickedly. “Why don’t you get set up? We can watch it in bed. Cuddle up and do what they call Netflix and Chill.”

“Oh, fucking hell,” you laughed, punching him on the shoulder. “No. Just… No. Stop that.”

Bucky grinned and turned back to the kitchen – the view of his ass one that you couldn’t turn away from. “You keep staring, and my ass will catch on fire. I need my best asset.”

“Why are you like this?” you deadpanned, and Bucky howled with a loud laugh. “Seriously, why? Why do you torment me so?”

“I’ll torment you in another way if you don’t move that cute butt a’yours,” Bucky retorted, staring at you from over his shoulder. “Go on, get goin’. That bed ain’t gonna warm itself.”

You rolled your eyes and padded off towards your bedroom – the bedspread made and neat, the curtains drawn. Warm light filled the room when you flicked the bedside lamp on and cast the TV on the opposite wall into view.

“Babe! Where did you put the damn popcorn?” Bucky yelled from down the hallway. The sound of cupboards opening and closing followed his plea for help.

“In the pantry,” you replied back, pillows in hand. “The snack drawer, you idiot.” The pillows fell into a pile with a quiet thump when you heard Bucky’s now bare feet come down the hallway, where he suddenly appeared in the hallway. “What?”

“That’s not where your popcorn goes.” The crinkle of plastic drew your attention from his pout, and you grinned. You had stocked up on his favourite, but pulled a trick by hiding it behind his most hated flavour. “What are you doin’?”

You chuckled and shook your head. “Move the packets, you dumbass. They’re behind them.”

“You’ll pay for that,” Bucky warned, pointing at you. “You’ll regret this.”

“Bite me,” you sassed to his retreating footsteps.

“Don’t tempt me!”

A few moments later, you were settled in bed next to Bucky, your backs against the headboard and the snacks spread out over your laps. He had encouraged you to lay your head on his shoulder, and that was how your relaxing movie night had begun.

The TV played in the background, but your mind was elsewhere – a viscous curiosity having gripped you in an iron vice. Last night, Bucky had taken you apart with his fingers – just his fingers – and promised more. You were no fool, you knew he was waiting for you to be ready, and you felt as much, if only a little nervous.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head, baby?” Bucky asked suddenly, his voice quiet as his breath fanned over your head. It was then you looked up at him to parse his expression. It was soft, curious, and genuine in nature. “Your breathin’ changed, kitten–what’re you up to?”

Oh, no.

“Um… Nothing,” you rushed, putting your head back on his shoulder and praying for and willing your body to calm down and stop betraying your thoughts.

“Alright,” Bucky replied simply, and you let loose a breath you hadn’t realised you had held.

Only, Bucky wasn’t done with you.

Suddenly, his hand was on your thigh, and he shifted impossibly closer. Once settled, he kissed you on the head and made a show of flexing his hand to grab some candy. You watched with rapt attention while Bucky stared at the screen and put the candy on his lips. That damned tongue darted out to take the sugary sweet before he pulled it into his mouth.

Arousal pooled and swirled in your gut, and your cunt throbbed – just from the simple visual of his tongue. Fuck, you cursed.

“You alright there, baby?” Bucky asked again, and you realised he was staring at you, face curiously blank aside from his raised brow. “You’re squirmin’. What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked, and you stared into his face and, to your horror, watched his expression shift from blank to smug.

“I don’t think it is, honey,” Bucky murmured, and his hand moved higher up your thigh. “I think my innocent little kitten is gettin’ herself worked up for daddy, isn’t she?”

“Oh, fuck.”

Bucky grinned – predatory and dark. “I take that as a yes, baby.” He licked his lips, and you watched, transfixed at the movement, and Bucky chuckled. “Lemme guess; somethin’s runnin’ through that pretty head about last night, and you want more.”

“But-”

“That is not the answer to my question,” Bucky said easily, his tone laced with such casual dominance it made you blink and stutter. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

You gulped audibly and started to sweat – your palms clammy, and unbidden, your thighs clenched as you stared at his lips. “Uh- I, yeah. Yeah, it- That’s it.” The words fumbled on your tongue and came out in such a rush that Bucky’s grin only widened.

“Good girl.” Bucky shifted and turned his body to face you. The darkening of his eyes made you breathe heavily, an automatic response you had no control over. His hands, soft and warm, cupped your face and pulled you into his space, his lips so close to yours you could just inch forward and take them. Instead, like Bucky was holding onto his own control by a thread, he hoarsely whispered, “Daddy’s proud of you for answerin’ with the truth.”

An unintelligible moan fell from your lips, and Bucky surged forward, claiming your lips with his in a searing kiss that stole your breath. His hands wandered from your jaw to your shoulders, down your arms, until they rested on your waist – his thumbs rubbed up and down your side, bunching the fabric of your shirt.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed against your lips, his forehead resting against yours. “Never get tired of kissin’ you, baby girl.” He pecked you on the lips once more and pulled back. “Seems like my little Vixen is lookin’ to play. And, you know, daddy can’t say no.”

“Daddy,” you breathed, and you blinked slowly as he smirked and shuffled back on the bed. “Please–I want you.”

“I know, kitten,” Bucky purred. “Move the food–put it on there,” he pointed at your bedside drawers. “Then lay back for me, thighs spread.”

With haste, you gathered the snacks in a haphazard pile and moved them onto the top of your bedside drawers. It was a precarious pile, but you didn’t care at that moment – not when Bucky was staring at you with such fierceness and hunger in his eyes.

After placing the snacks out of the way, you let out a shaky breath – you didn’t remember what he’d asked in your rush and nerves. “How-” You stammered, wringing your hands. “Um, how do I–?”

Bucky smiled softly and grabbed your hands to stop your fidgeting, the soothing warmth and pressure grounding you. “Lay down on your back for me, baby. I’ll take those cute panties off, and then you’ll spread your thighs for me. Can you do that, sweetheart? Can you do that for daddy?”

The assurance and instruction from Bucky calmed the storm of nerves in your mind, and you did as he instructed. His hands rubbed up and down the outsides of your thighs, until you settled, head and shoulders propped up on pillows.

“Atta girl,” he praised happily. You watched his hands grip the sides of your panties, and then you felt the fabric drag down your thighs and calves, and then he tossed them away to the corner of your room. “You know what to do now honey–c’mon.”

“Okay,” you murmured, and you slowly, shyly, opened your thighs.

Bucky moved to kneel between your now spread thighs, and he whistled lowly. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen–and it’s mine. All fuckin’ mine.”

“Daddy…” Bucky looked up at you from your cunt, and the hunger in his eyes had grown in intensity – eclipsing what little was left of the cerulean blue into inky black. “Please, please, it- It aches.”

A wicked grin twisted his expression, and you whimpered in shock – he’d never looked like that before. “It aches, baby girl?” His hand moved to cup your sex, and his thumb brushed over your clit. “Here? It aches here?”

“Yes!” you yelped as he increased the pressure of his touch. “Please!”

“You poor thing,” he drawled, his gaze locked on your cunt. “I know.” Slowly, Bucky pulled his hand away from your sex and moved back on the bed. You watched him lay flat on his stomach, and he propped his upper half up on his elbows when he pulled the elastic that held his hair up and out of his face, off – brown locks now framing his face and devilish smirk. “So you have somethin’ to hold onto, baby.”

“What do you mean–?” you whispered, confused.

“It means, kitten,” Bucky began as he moved closer so his breath fanned over your inner thighs. “That daddy is gonna eat this pretty pussy, and you’re gonna cum for him–and he’s not gonna stop until you do.”

“Oh, wait- Wait, please,” you pleaded as anxiety flooded you. “But I… I’ve never had- This, never had this.”

“And that’s a damn fuckin’ shame, sweetheart,” Bucky replied darkly. “So, what you’re gonna feel is intense–remember the colours?” You nodded. “Good girl. We’re gonna use them, and you will shout out if you feel anything that makes you feel yellow, or red. Do you understand me, baby?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky kissed your thigh in response. “You let your body do what it wants. I’m not goin’ nowhere, and you’re safe. You can let go whenever you feel it–I will not hold back, honey.”

A whimper escaped before you clamped your mouth shut with a loud click.

“Now, daddy’s gonna take charge,” Bucky pushed on, his hands squeezing your thighs. “And your job, kitten, is to relax and let yourself feel–jus’ like last night, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied quietly, and Bucky grinned; this time, it was a fond action. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

The sensation of Bucky’s breath over your cunt made you twitch, and your hands fisted the sheets of the comforter, the anticipation building to be overwhelming. “Easy, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed, and you realised he was staring up at you, his head raised up and away from your twitching entrance. “You’re okay, and you’re safe.”

In your fugue state, no words came to mind on how to reply, so you just nodded.

“Here we go, babydoll,” he warned, and you braced. Only, the sensation ghosted over your clit, a barely there brush of his lips, when he groaned. “Fuck, you’re perfect–I’m never leavin’ your cunt. Never.”

Lips turned into tongue, and you keened at the wet, hard sensation of the muscle over your clit. It was otherworldly. Once resting beside your thigh, Bucky’s arm came up and over your hip to pin you in place. You looked down at the tattooed limb and then at his face, dazed and confused, only to find a mischievous glint in his hooded eyes.

“Wha- Fuck!” Bucky sucked gently, the hollows of his cheeks pulling in against his teeth as he kept up a steady stream of patterns with his tongue. “Daddy! Oh, daddy–please, feels so good,” you moaned, and you tried to writhe, to buck your hips up and closer to his mouth, but his arm had you pinned in place. “Hnng, pleaseplease!”

The vibration of his hum wrapped up and around your spine, the sensation finally settling in your heat with a sharp throb.

Bucky pulled back from your clit with a wet pop, and he groaned again. “So fuckin’ sweet too. I can’t wait to fuck your pretty hole with my tongue, kitten–get you really mewlin’ for me.”

“Jesus,” you gasped, and Bucky laughed. “You- You’re tongue–”

“Yeah.” Bucky grinned, his chin shining with slick. “And now it’s all yours. Now excuse me, this pretty pussy is achin’ for some attention.”

“Fuck-”

Bucky surged forward again, this time with such vigour your clit was pulled between his lips. You screamed to the ceiling and bowed your back, your thighs already trembling from the new sensations that pulled you under. “God! Please don’t stop- I- I think!”

The sensations ceased for just a second, and you felt Bucky speak more than you heard, “And I said not to think, honey–let go, give it to daddy. Cum for me.”

You groaned and panted his name when you finally fisted his hair in both hands – both pulling closer and pushing him away. There was a low moan in his throat, and he sucked harder, the patterns from his tongue faster, when something cascaded down your spine. It started slowly, building and building until you tingled all over; every limb was affected by the new sensation. “Bucky! Daddy–I, please, oh my god.”

He moaned loudly, the vibration so intense that your vision blurred and whited out. “Yes! Keep-” You hiccuped and pulled at his hair. “Fuck, don’t stop!”

You stared down at the top of his head when he tilted it up, his eyes meeting yours. “Daddy,” you moaned, and you could have sworn he grinned wickedly again. There was a slight raise to his brow, the intent unknown, and when you parted your lips to speak, a sob tore from your throat.

In the second it took for you to open your mouth, Bucky’s head shook side to side, the movements fast and purposeful as he alternated sucking on your clit and licking broadly over your lips and entrance.

The sensation that had built so slowly through your body imploded at once. A high, thin wail consisting of his name and curses tumbled from your mouth as your back bowed. “‘M cumming, daddy! Please!”

Your climax felt like a wildfire through every nerve, every muscle, and every bone – an all encompassing rush of ecstasy that left you boneless and quivering through the aftershocks. Bucky kept nursing softly on your clit; the delicate swipes from the tip of his tongue to the broad strokes with the pad of it made you twitch and jerk under his arm.

“Fuck,” you croaked as he pulled off of your cunt with a sinful, wet pop. A far more obscene sound that made the fire spark again.

Bucky rested his head on your thigh and blinked, smiling with a lust-drunk haze. “You alright, sweetheart? What’s your colour?”

“Green,” you rasped, “I’m fucking fantastic.” There was a light laugh in your tone, and your head fell back against the pillow. Feeling and strength returned slowly to every limb, each awakening at an agonisingly slow pace. “Fucking hell, daddy.”

“You keep saying my name, kitten, and I won’t be able to control myself.” Your head snapped up to stare at him, though he was too occupied staring at your cunt – that same hungry glint in his eyes. “Jus’ such a perfect fuckin’ pussy, baby. S’good, and I don’t wanna stop. Think you can cum again for me?”

“Again?” you squeaked.

Bucky looked up at you. “Yeah–fuck it, you’re gonna cum again for daddy. Can’t get enough.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise, but Bucky pushed forward. This time, his mouth hovered lower, and the arm pinning your hips down shifted and angled down so his fingers brushed over your sensitive clit. “Daddy’s gonna work fast, and he’s gonna fuck your tight hole with his tongue, alright, kitten?”

“Hnng- Yeah, daddy,” you moaned, just as the tip of Bucky’s tongue danced over your clit. “Please, please–I wan’ it.”

“You can have it, babydoll,” he whispered against your cunt, and it clenched around nothing. “Poor girl is weepin’ for me, isn’t she? Let’s fix that.”

The sensation of Bicky’s tongue forcing its way in your cunt shocked you, and you yelled a loud “Oh!” in response. His fingers thrummed over your clit, ignorant of the way your thighs and stomach tensed and jerked, all while his tongue moved in such a way it made your brain crash and burn. “Daddy–s’good, I fucking love your mouth, ah!”

Bucky moaned in response and kicked up the intensity – his fingers blurred over your clit, and he lapped at your walls, broad strokes that made you quiver in pleasure or oversensitivity; the line long since blurred.

The very same feeling you had from your first climax began low in your hips, ricocheting up your spine and spreading outwards at such a rate you only had a second’s notice before it consumed you. Each pass of his fingers forced your upper body off the pillows and your thighs to tighten around Bucky’s shoulders. “Daddy!”

“Yeah? What is it, baby?” Bucky asked, pulling away from your cunt, but his fingers kept up their fast pace. “What’s wrong–use your words.”

“Feels s’good, so fucking good, daddy, please,” you begged and babbled, voice strained. There were tears building along your waterline. “Please–wanna cum for daddy.”

The grin Bucky flashed was the most menacing one yet. “Such a good fuckin’ girl using your manners. You can cum–soak daddy’s face like the slut you are.” He dove right back between your thighs, forcing his tongue deep in your heat and his fingers to move faster over your clit.

You keened high in your throat as the wildfire blinded you, the pleasure overwhelming in its currents. “Gonna cum! Please!”

To your utter surprise, you felt the breach and pressure of three fingers, the insistent brush and curl of them making you cry out blindly with pleasure. “Shit! Oh, daddy!”

Bucky hummed, his face soaked in your slick. “Give it to me, baby,” he encouraged, his fingers moving desperately over your walls until they struck gold. “Give it to daddy, c’mon.”

Lips covered your clit, and you whimpered, high in pitch, as Bucky sucked – pressure steadily increasing until it became too much to bear. “Daddy! ‘M cumming again! Oh my god, fuckfuckfuck,” you chanted, and you twisted in his grip, your hips miraculously lifting off the bed as you sobbed and moaned through a violent climax.

“Tha’s it, sweetheart!” Bucky called suddenly, his voice muffled over the roar of blood in your ears. “Good girl–good girl, good kitten. Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this.”

Moments, hours, days passed – you couldn’t tell as you lay there, panting for air around the throes of aftershocks. Bucky spoke continuously, a steady stream of praise and reassurance that you welcomed in your haze: “Did so good for me, honey–so good for daddy,” and, “Fuckin’ beautiful, baby girl, you have no idea how pretty you are right now.”

“Daddy,” you murmured, and Bucky was suddenly all you could see – his hair knotted and bunched at his scalp, chin, and cheeks wet with slick, and a priceless, prideful smile on his lips. “Daddy–please,” you tried, and he tucked an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

“‘M here, baby girl, ‘m here.” There was a shift in the air, and then you were suddenly on your side, Bucky still close. “You alright? You still with me, honey?”

You nodded once, blinked, and sidled closer to rest your forehead in the juncture of his neck. “Mhm.”

“Thank you, honey,” Bucky murmured, and his voice rumbled through his chest. “You did so fuckin’ good for me–fuck, you were so pretty. Prettier than those roses.” There was a pause, then, “Couldn’t be prouder of you, baby. You took charge and didn’t let your shyness or nerves stop you. Fuckin’ bloomin’ like those roses too–jus’ so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart, much like the roses he had given you, grew and bloomed in your chest – flourishing under the praise and genuine awe. And you couldn’t help but smile softly.

You were his rose – blooming and beautiful as you grew.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #pup&kisasaestheticchallenge #rookthorne's works

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hesthermay · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

PAIRING: bucky barnes x f!reader

SUMMARY: bucky barnes and the domesticity he deserves.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

RATING + WARNINGS: general audiences, domestic themes, fluff. use of she/her, more fluff, use of y/n, more fluff. in my head reader works outside lolzies

NOTES: marvel!? again!? it never ended!! just switched to something else for a bit but hesthermay will always be a multifandom blog! i quite literally am attached to too many things for it to just be one anymore lmao. anyways!! this is apart of the lady may universe, all works will be labelled as such but remember they do not need to be read in any order or together at all! they can be read as standalone stories because they are all apart of a collection!!

MARVEL MASTERLIST LADY MAY UNIVERSE

The sun had just finished setting, the dark sky staring back at him as he stood in front of the kitchen window.

Bucky Barnes wiped his flesh hand on his jeans before reaching up to readjust the phone wedged between his cheek and shoulder before it could fall. His other remained submerged in the soapy dishwater, metal fingers clutching the wine glass more delicately than his past self ever thought he could as he secured the device. “No, Steve—if you need me, I can come back.”

The blonde man shot him down immediately, insisting that it would only be a waste. Bucky sighed deeply and quietly, knowing his friend was as stubborn as they came.. “Alright, punk; if you say so.”

Truth be told, he did not want to go back just yet. As tired as he’d gotten over the years, the fight most likely wouldn’t ever leave James Buchanan Barnes’ life and that was just something he was going to have to accept. But when he’s here, in the tiny town in the middle of nowhere that was his very slice of paradise, there was no fighting. Only hard work and long days, warm evenings and calm nights, and loud laughter and dinners shared between two.

The life that Y/N L/N had given him was not one he had predicted, but one he would never take for granted. It was…all he could possibly want. If the world were to end tomorrow, he would spend his last moments with his lips on hers.

A tail hitting against his calf was what caught his attention and momentarily pulled him away from the conversation, glancing down at the plump dog stood next to him. Her eyes were trained on the doorway of the kitchen and the brunette knew exactly what she’d picked up on, a grin growing on his face as the last dish was dried and put away.

“Steve, I gotta go, Y/N/N just got home…okay, okay—I’ll tell her,” he chuckled as his metal hand swiped a rag over the counter quickly.

“Tell who what?” A voice piped up from behind him and the cloth was soon abandoned as he whirled around. There she was, standing in the doorway dressed for work and looking like it’d been a long day of it, while still radiating the kind of beauty he swore he’d never get tired of.

Bucky’s grin grew into a smile impossibly fast for a man who used to be a shell, a weapon, but that wasn’t unusual for him these days. “Ah, speak of the devil and she shall appear,” he remarked, and was met with an eye roll from his love and a laugh from his friend, before pulling the phone away from his ear.

With one click, Steve Rogers was put on speaker phone and thrown under the bus. “Stevie says you owe him a dinner from when he kicked your ass in beer pong.”

“I did not say that!”

Y/N’s laugh echoed around the kitchen and filled Bucky’s chest with joy. “Oh, well quit your complaining and get your ass down here then!” She called out as she made her way to the fridge, boots thumping against the floor. “And last I recall, there was no ass kicking. You barely beat me, Rogers.”

Steve and Y/N got along great, and it had become obvious to Bucky very quickly that they acted just like siblings. Their dynamic mimicked that of an older brother and younger sister, and if they didn’t look so different it’d be hard to tell they weren’t related. If they were, Bucky knew she’d give Steve a run for his money.

“I’m all booked up for the next few weeks unfortunately,” the captain’s voice filtered through the speaker, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to a visit after I clear everything up.”

“Oh,” Bucky drawled out as he leaned against the counter, arms and ankles crossed in the very name of ease, “I bet you wouldn’t. Grandma’s cooking’s pretty good, right?”

Another laugh was accompanied by the popping of a beer bottle’s cap coming off and the clinging sound of it hitting the floor. “You’re damn right!” Leaning down to pick up the trash, Y/N continued to speak to Steve but the mechanic had already gained tunnel vision.

His eyes were on her everywhere she went, observing the way her lips formed the words but not really hearing what they were, the way her eyes flitted over to him every few minutes because she was just as obsessed with him as he was her.

The life that Y/N L/N had given him was not one he predicted, but one he would rather die than take for granted. It was his greatest gift.

The sound of his name broke his concentration and he was brought back to the present, tuning in to the conversation to hear Steve saying his goodbyes, throwing a ‘talk to ya later, Buck!’ at the end before he hung up. The phone was forgotten, remaining in the same spot with a black screen as the family of two now focused solely on one another. Y/N walked to the sink, beginning to wash her hands as she looked at the man before her with a semi serious face. “I sure am glad Steve let you have a break even with this long mission. I was starting to go a little crazy,” she chuckled.

“I’ll always find a way back to you, lover girl,” he replied smoothly with that crooked grin as one hand reached out to swipe a thumb across her cheek, wiping off the smudge of dirt left over from her day at work. She beamed at him and he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop himself from pulling her in for a kiss; a kiss that conveyed how much he’d missed her, how long he’d waited for her, and just how much he loved her.

When they broke apart she laughed ever so softly, eyes a little out of focus as she recovered from the display of affection. “You gonna let me set the table, Barnes?”

“I suppose I could,” he feigned reluctance, waiting until the very last second to release his hold on her face, hands slowly pulling away from her face where they were gently resting.

“Thank you for making dinner, by the way,” she threw over shoulder as she made her way into the next room with the plates and silverware stacked in her hands, and he followed her with the trays of food he had prepared for them.

“Of course, doll,” he assured, knowing that if not for her he wouldn’t be able to make this meal nor would he have the motivation to learn how to. This domesticity, the routine of home life, was utter bliss.

The life that Bucky Barnes had gained was not one he ever thought was possible for him, but it was one he would never let go of. It was all he needed, all he wanted, all he’d dreamt of.

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my work as your own.

#the witch: writes #—marvel #—lady may universe #—signed; barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes imagine #marvel au #avengers au #avengers x reader #cannon divergence #domestic!bucky #mechanic!bucky

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Note

Hi! I hope you feel better soon 💜 I have funny lil request if you are at all interested. So Bucky has a lil crush on the reader, and one day walks by their room and hears something that makes him a bit jealous. He hears the reader giggling, and saying stuff jokingly like "Stop Charlie, that tickles!" or "You're so handsome," and Bucky becomes sad because he thinks the reader has found someone. But then he later finds out that the reader was actually dog sitting for a friend. What happens next is up to you, and feel free to change anything to make it more interesting! I chose Charlie as a random dog name that's also human, but its just an example. If you find any inspiration from this, I encourage you to take it in absolutely any direction you want! (as long as it has a happy ending, bc Im a sucker for happy endings hehe)

okay what I find hilarious and amazing about this is I HAVE HAD THIS EXAAACT SAME IDEA, WHY DID I NEVER WRITE IT. THIS IS SO ADORABLE. This is a sign. From the universe.

The only thing I'm changing here is the name because I find it hilarious when dogs have more common people names.

It started off with your sweet smiles, they’re so contagious, he can’t help but smile back. He starts to find his heart jumping a little whenever you’re around, he almost goes to Bruce to get a medical check up cause why is his heart doing that. Stop that. He can’t control the way you make him blush and he realizes he likes you. Likes you likes you. Its a cute little crush he has that he tries to keep a secret because its just a little crush, nothing to get worked up over.

He’s too scared to ask you out, he gets tongue tied the second he tries to attempt anything.

It all goes sideways he walks by your room one day.

"Daniel, bubba you're too heavy to be lying on me like this!"

He stopped dead in his tracks. Maybe he heard wrong.

"Baby, stop that tickles"

Baby? You never mentioned dating anyone before.

"Hey! You can't get away with that just because you're so handsome"

Bucky blinked, his jaw clenching, who the fuck was this Daniel, and why he with you. He wanted to know exactly how “handsome” this punk was, making you giggle and laugh, he should be the one doing that.

"Hmmm, you know you're so handsome don't you baby"

Bucky shook his head, huffing to his room to pout, he had to find out who the hell this guy was. Or not. If was sure he’d probably punch the guy in the neck.

Imagine his surprise when he over hears the team just casually talking to you about Daniel.

With Sam

Sam: So how's Daniel doing? You: He's good, I'm going to see him later today if I have some time, we might go for a walk in the park

Sam: Aww, the weather’s supposed to be nice out, maybe you can even stop by the lake!

With Tony

You: Daniel's coming over later, is that okay?

Tony: Sure, just don't make a mess in the living room like last time

You: Sorry, I'll keep him in check

Tony: He’s great otherwise, you should bring him around more often

Bucky nearly saw stars with that conversation, the last thing he needed was more of you and Daniel. The final straw was when he heard you talking to Steve.

Steve: You think I can steal Daniel from you

You: I’m sure he’d love that, he loves going on runs with you, I can’t keep up with his energy

Steve: He’s great, wish he was around more often, let me know when he’s coming by next

Okay, stealing his crush was one thing, but Bucky drew the boundary at this clown moving in on his best friend too.

*****

“Can you tell me what the hell is so great about Daniel” Bucky huffed, fidgeting with his fingers, sitting on the couch while Sam tinkered with redwing.

“What do you mean what’s so great, he’s amazing! He’s friendly, he’s great with kids, he’s super sweet, gets along with everyone. You haven’t met him?”

“No” Bucky rolled his eyes, every time he thought it was bad, it got worse. Now the guy was great with kids too. Fantastic. Before Sam could respond, Bucky hear you call for him.

“Oh my God Bucky!! You have to meet Daniel!” You ran up to him, bouncing on your feet. Every time Daniel had come by, Bucky had either been called away on a mission or busy with something. You’d been dying for him to meet your favorite baby in the whole world.

“I was busy y/n” Bucky tried to sound grumpy but he just couldn’t with you, pouting like a kicked puppy instead. He might as well meet the guy that seemed to have your heart.

“You were just sitting with Sam, please?” You gave him your best pout and Bucky melted instantly, nodding while you ran back again to show your favorite soldier your best fur baby.

Bucky’s eyes widened at the massive golden retriever that came bounding in, immediately pouncing on him and attacking him with kisses.

“Daniel!!” You tried to pull him off but he wasn’t having it, trying to snuggle himself into Bucky, keeping him pinned on the floor. “Baby, get off him, I told you you’re too big!”

“This-this is Daniel?” Bucky blinked between getting his face licked, too stunned to say much else

“Yeah! Why, who did you think it was”

“Your boyfriend” Sam snorted, watching the scene unfold in front of him, wiggling his eye brows at Bucky.

“I-no-” Bucky blushed, while sitting up slightly, petting the fluffy baby behind the ears, allowing him to sit in his lap.

“Man, shut up, just admit you were jealous over y/n 4 legged boyfriend”

“Did you think Daniel was my boyfriend?” you giggled, sitting down beside him, your heart beating a little faster when he bit his lip. Did he like you back? “Were you jealous?” you whispered, inching a little closer to him, while he smiled softly not meeting your eyes.

“Maybe a little”

You both inched closer and closer until your hand was brushing his, his fingers hesitantly intertwining with yours while Daniel happily made himself comfortable across your laps, his head resting on Bucky’s thigh. Tony and Steve entered the living room looking pleased when they saw how close the two of you were sitting.

“Ah, I see you met y/n’s boyfriend” Tony snorted while Bucky groaned, covering his face. “Cheating on Daniel now are we?” He nodded at your hand in Bucky’s while you laughed, kissing his cheek, making him blush more.

“Hmm, Bucky doesn’t mind a little competition”

“I hate all of you”

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munsooooon · 3 months

Text

Warning: Angst, Kinda Hurt/No Comfort. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know if there is any mistake!

Eddie does die. Steve grows up, but he never forgets Eddie and all that could be. He was the man who made him accept his bisexuality. He was the man who made him find new interests. To everyone's surprise, Steve forms a punk band with Gareth and some other guys.

In the 90s, they became famous. They were big as Green Day and other bands of the time. Steve becomes a rock/punk sex symbol. Everyone goes crazy for him because he is incredibly pretty, and his songs are powerful. But he always claims he's not interested in having a relationship.

His band's albums are successful, but Steve keeps a low profile, at the beginning of '96 he disappears from the public eye, leaving everyone bewildered, the world doesn't stop throwing theories, even his fellow musicians in other bands are worried, Steve is a king once again, but he doesn't care about that crown either. In March 1997, surprisingly, his band released a preview of a new album, a heartbreaking single called Gone Away. It immediately becomes his biggest hit. People immediately want to know what the song is about.

So Steve speaks, for the first time he gives a serious interview, he was always quiet in the back while Gareth talked to the media, he ignored the questions, he had never talked to the media seriously before until now.

He is wearing a faded Dio T-shirt, black baggy jeans, and rings on his hand. His sad eyes always made him be compared to Kurt Cobain even though his music was different.

The audience numbers on MTV were breaking records. There were kids in the studio who reminded him of The Party. The host was very excited and could hardly hide it, but he was making a good effort:

"First of all, Steve, thank you very much for granting us this interview and, above all, congratulations for the huge success that Gone Away is having."

Steve smiles weakly and tries to be nice despite how overwhelmed he feels. He does it for Eddie because the guy reminds him of Eddie, at least in looks, he probably would have gotten along great with Eddie, Steve always thought so when he saw him on TV.

"Thank you," Steve whispers kindly. The guys in the studio can barely hear him.

"I know you're not a big fan of TV studios, so is it okay if we start with the questions?"

Steve nods weakly, and he can feel himself starting to breathe more naturally.

"I suffer from really bad migraines, and the studio lights are terrible."

"I understand," replies the show host. He looks at him for a few seconds straight in the eye. The boy seems to be dazzled by Steve and seems to understand what this means to him. "So, Gone Away, what's the song talking about?"

Steve looks at him gratefully. MTV wanted the host to ask him about a thousand topics as Steve was giving his first exclusive interview, Steve had agreed to talk shit because he knew that MTV was the place where he could reach kids who cared about his music, kids like Eddie.

"It's about my husband. His name was Eddie, Eddie Munson."

Steve could hear everyone in the studio express surprise. Steve suddenly felt like he was in high school when Eddie would climb on the tables.

"Your husband?" the host asked in surprise, he looked as if he didn't believe what Steve was saying, as if he thought it was one of the antics he sometimes pulled while Gareth was talking about his music but Steve kept his face very serious.

"My husband. You all think I'm from New York and I've never cared to make it clear. The band was formed in New York, I moved there when I was 22, but I grew up in Hawkins, Indiana. Probably a lot of the kids here don't know because they were so young, but 11 years ago there was a devastating earthquake there, a lot of people died, including my husband Eddie, he was just 21 years old."

"Yeah man, I remember that earthquake, was awful"

"Yeah. A few days before, Eddie had been persecuted by the whole town especially by the religious people because he was wrongfully accused of crimes he did not commit, which sucks because he was the sweetest man I have ever known, I have lived since then trying to be at least a part of how sweet he was."

Everyone was in complete shock. All eyes were on Steve.

"Eddie died in the earthquake. He sacrificed himself to save me, to save our friends. We didn't get to live our romance, but I know my love was reciprocated because he wrote me letters and poems, he made me drawings, and even in his last diary entry he said he was happy because we had friends in common, he was planning to talk to me at Spring Break and have fun with me and our friends in the summer."

"Steve, I'm very sorry".

"Last year was the 10th anniversary of his death. I can hardly believe that I have lived all this time without him, but I am as much in love as the first day. That is why I call him my husband, because even though I could never propose to him, we are together but in different places. We even have our children, who are the reason I am still alive. I still wear his clothes, these are his clothes, and this seat I'm sitting in today belongs to him, he was born a rock star. "

"Steve, once again, you have left us speechless."

Steve smiled genuinely at him and then turned to look directly into the camera:

"I'm making it very clear. I'm bisexual, I don't allow anyone, not the fans, not the media to question my sexuality like they did with Bowie, like they're doing it with Billie. I am bisexual, in love, and married to a wonderful man. If you can't understand that, you are stupid, and that makes you part of the problem that killed my husband 11 years ago."

Steve left the interview at that moment. He sent a letter to the host, thanking him for the space to talk about Eddie, being aware of how incredibly privileged he was. It was the first and last interview he gave, he thought his career was going to disappear but the interview made him more famous, the band played in the most important festivals that year but in 1998 they announced their separation. Steve lived his last days with Wayne in New York. Steve died a few days after Wayne died. In the year 2000, he was 34.

The fans were really happy that Steve was finally with his husband, the love of his life and his muse. Because Steve chose to live a life for him and Eddie, every time he made a decision about his music, he thought: What would Eddie have done?

That's why he decided to go to that famous interview in 1998. It was one of the greatest moments in music. Eddie and Steve are well remembered, not only by fans, to this day Steve's contemporary artists like Billie Joe Armstrong or Dave Grohl talk about those small moments in which they met Steve at festivals, they all agree that he was magical.

Like Steve lyrics, people always leave flowers in his shared grave with Eds to show they care.

Leaving flowers on your grave

To show that I still care

Black roses and Hail Mary's

Can't bring back what's taken from me

I reach to the sky

And call on your name

And if I could trade, I would

And it feels, and it feels like

Heaven's so far away

And it stings, and it stings now

The world is so cold

Now that you've gone away...

♡♡♡♡♡

• Gone Away is a song by The Offspring, an American punk band. Dexter, the lead singer, wrote this song because he was in the middle of a shooting with his girl. When I was younger I read he wrote it for his late girlfriend, who died in a car accident but apparently that's not true. Anyway it's one of my favourite songs, I think it is very beautiful, these days when I listen to the song I think that it is a song that suits Steve and Eddie a lot. Curiously, it was published in March 1997, exactly 11 years after Eddie's death, y all know he died in March 1986.

• The Billie Steve mentioned in the interview is Billie Joe Armstrong, the lead singer of Green Day. He is bisexual but many people question his sexuality back in the day and even nowadays.

I apologise for this, hahaha. I have a happy version of this if you guys are interested.

#eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie headcanon #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie one shot #the offspring #inspired by the offspring #punk steve harrington #angst #steddie angst

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chaosgremlinmunson · 3 months

Text

Crush on You/ You're Mine (if only in my mind)

For @steddie-week

Prompt:July 6: dizzy/drunk confessions/Crush on You by Bruce Springsteen

Some mature content, sexual talk. MDNI 18+

Eddie was feeling the burn of the whiskey down his throat, he was glaring out into the crowd as some tall punk let his hands run over Steve, grabbing his hips, that glorious ass that Eddie fantasized about. He turned back to the bartender, Julie something, a girl who'd become close with the group. Eddie originally planned to talk Robin up to her tonight since he had sensed some mutual pining between the two, always watching the other a flush high on their cheekbones. That got derailed when almost immediately reaching the bar the duo had been swept off by strangers and now Eddie was suffering watching someone else holding the man he'd loved for the past ten years now.

Julie came up to Eddie, a refill already in hand and tipped her chin towards the devastation behind him, “I see your friends are occupied tonight.”

Eddie dropped his head onto the bar then looked up at her, “Does it ever get easier?” He asked, “aching for someone you know you'll never have?”

Julie tsked at him, and reached a hand out, flicking him in the forehead. She reached beside her and pulled out a flier showing tonight's karaoke theme he'd forgotten all about, it started soon. He raised an eyebrow.

“You know his favorite singer, come up with something eddie-spaghetti. You don't know that you can't have him unless you try.”

Eddie sat with his drink and stared at the flier, after a couple more shots of whiskey he had a plan. Albeit a stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless.

He stood walking to the booth and whispered to the DJ who raised an eyebrow until Eddie explained the choice then smirked and nodded.

A few moments later Eddie was on stage, spotlight lit on him and every nerve trying to sweat it's way out of his body, and then the music started

The first few verses were shaky at best, and then he made eye contact with Steve who was beaming at Eddie bopping along to his favorite music. He belted out pointing at Steve as the world diminished to just the two of them.

“Well now she might be the talk of high society

She's probably got a lousy personality

She might be a heiress to Rockefeller

She might be a waitress or a bank teller

She makes the Venus de Milo look like she's got no style

She makes Sheena of the Jungle look meek and mild

I need a quick shot, Doc, knock me off my feet

Cause I'll be minding my own business walking down the street... watchout!”

He went to spin out as the energy finally consumed him when a dizzy spell hit and he pinwheeled off the stage straight into Steve's arms.

Eddie stared up into those beautiful hazel eyes as he looked over Eddie checking for new injuries. When he looked back to Eddie he smiled that shy small smile Eddie loved so much and carried him bridal style over to the booth to sit them down, but kept Eddie in his arms so he was now sitting squarely in his lap.

“Careful, sweetheart, your dancefloor Casanova might get the wrong idea you holding me in your arms.” Eddie grinned.

Steve snorted at Eddie, “My only Casanova I'd give a shit about is a nerdy ass metalhead who can't seem to take a hint” Steve said back pinching Eddie squarely on his butt who squeaked and jumped.

“Hey! I'll have you know, that, wait….what?” Eddie began and stopped, eyes wide.

“Yeah, Eddie, I've danced with other people but only because you never make a move. I told you I was bisexual, I've cuddled up to you in bed, not them, I go home with you no matter where we go, in fact have you ever even seen me kiss a dance partner?”

Eddie inhaled, “Well…no.”

Steve continued, “Right, and I've always made you the little spoon when we snuggle. I pull you into my lap, you've literally woken up with me rock hard against your back numerous times and I've not once ever acted guilty. I've fixed your hair, held your hand, made you breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I even started listening to all your music and getting invested into all your hobbies. And still, you act as though I'd give a shit about anyone else, Eds? What next, I Tattoo “I'm down bad for Eddie Munson” on my lower back and show you?” Steve took a breath, “I've loved you since the boathouse, you were what made me realize I wasn't straight. I had inklings before, but you made it clear as crystals. I don't want anyone else, just you.” He leaned his forehead against Eddie's shoulder.

“So, does that mean I can keep you forever?” Eddie said after a moment his hands finding their way to comb through that glorious head of hair.

“What it means is unless you literally throw me over the nearest cliff I'm not going anywhere. You're mine Eddie Munson, I'm going to marry you one day and become Mr. Steven Munson, I'm gonna grow old drooling over you, choking on your cock whenever I can, and pinning you to any and all surfaces I can while I make you scream my name until the world knows it. Sound good?”

Eddie let out a squawk-like laugh and pulled Steve closer, “sounds good sunshine, can we start with the choking and pinning tonight?

“Anything for you.” Steve said looking back at him eyes molten before leaning in and capturing his mouth in a mind tingling kiss.

#steddie week #steddie week 2024 #steddie #dizzy #drunk confessions #crush on you #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #fanfiction

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buckysbabygorl · 2 months

Text

A Stitch in Time (Part 6)

Part 5

Masterlist

Part 7

Summary: Another memory from the past, another strange development…

1944 was a big year for her boys, what with Stevie officially becoming Captain America. The Howling Commandos had formed; day after day the group took down countless Hydra installations and facilities across the country.

Y/N was beyond proud of them; but she missed them.

Even though they were always on the same base, it felt like she never got enough of them. She had her own duties to tend to, they each had an important role to play. But she missed sitting and laughing with them, she missed them giving her a hard time, she missed the sound of their voices and the stories they told.

On her slower days, they always seemed to be somewhere else. Unfortunately for her that was happening again today, and she was trying not to feel lonely.

She had done well so far, pretending to be angry instead.

Which she had partial good reason for; Bucky was supposed to take her into town today.

The plan had been made during breakfast yesterday, they would leave before dinner and she could get to the post before they closed. But then the boys were called for a strategy meeting just as they were planning to leave.

She understood that wasn’t his fault; that’s not what she was mad about.

She was mad because he promised her they would go this morning, before the boys went down to the docks to receive their weapons replenishment from the cargo ships.

The boys were supposed to leave at 1.

So she waited. 9 am went by, 10 am went by, 11 am went by… they weren’t going to make it.

She went to find him in a last minute effort to get her errands done before day’s end, but then she found Bucky sitting in the mess hall. Happy and smiling, with Lorraine.

Shaking her head, determined to be mad at him for the rest of the day for forgetting his promise, she decided to spend the rest of her day reading a magazine in her tent without saying goodbye or welcoming them back.

Of course Y/N’s anger had nothing to do with jealousy. Bucky sitting with Lorraine when he was supposed to be with her, one of the most beautiful women Y/N had ever seen, had nothing at all to do with that.

A little after 3, the boys returned home. Pulling the trucks in, they let the new boys earn their keep and haul out the inventory on their own.

“I’m just saying--” Steve started as he hopped out of the truck, “--She kissed me, I had no control.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

He scanned the crowd for Y/N, her tiny figure probably lost in the masses of men.

“Peggy shot at me. Don’t you think that makes us even?” Steve asked.

Bucky waved his hand at him, “Yeah, yeah. A man kisses a girl and he gets shot at, that usually balances things out.”

Steve glared at Bucky, “You’re barely listening to me.”

“Yeah, punk. I have more important things on my mind.” He still couldn’t see her, where was she?

“What could be more important than me getting shot at?” Steve asked.

Bucky huffed and started walking to the sleeping tents.

“Y/N’s probably mad at me.” He said.

“Oh.” Steve’s brow shot up, that was more important. “Why, what did you do this time?”

“Me?” Bucky called over his shoulder, walking faster. “You made me miss our town run this morning, having to tell Lorraine you were off limits.”

Resenting that he was still cleaning up Steve’s messes after all these years, Bucky chose to ignore Steve’s complaints as they strode to her tent.

When they arrived, Bucky was mortified.

Y/N refused to look up at her visitors, content with a glamor magazine and shopping bag tucked by her chair. Dugan by her side.

Dugan smirked, ”Well, well. What took you boys so long?”

Bucky snarled as the memory came in; Dugan had been on the first truck out of the docks, quite literally racing Bucky to it.

He must have known Y/N was waiting, and with the shopping bag at her side, it didn’t take much to put 2 and 2 together.

“Duckie, I’m sorry…” Bucky started, “The truck didn’t come back ‘til late--”

She flipped her page swiftly, clearing her throat.

“Oh it’s fine Bucky, Timmy was kind enough to take me into town.”

She trailed off, looking to smile up at Dugan, whom smiled back in return.

The nickname didn’t go unnoticed by Barnes, his skin burning beneath his uniform.

“--Really Y/N, I’m sorry.”

She slapped her book down on her fold out table, enough to shake both Rogers and Dugan alike.

“No,” she drew out the word, “Bucky, truly it’s fine. I imagine you forgot anyways, what with you being so busy with someone important this morning.”

Bucky glared at Steve, knowing full well she was implying Lorraine.

Steve went scarlet, but the attention was taken away from him.

“Yup! We were able to get there before the shops closed,” Dugan stated, “got herself something nice didn’t she?”

Bucky's brow furrowed, but y/n kept reading.

Dugan chuckled, suspecting she was acting coy about her now found pretty things.

“Well go on,” He encouraged, “show ‘em.”

Y/N smiled sweetly, heat laced in her gaze. She turned her head away from the boys, displaying a pretty bow delicately placed in her braided bun.

A simple, darling thing. But it made Bucky shutter, fear creeping up within him as to why she felt the need to get all dressed up.

Seeing Bucky’s intense stare, Steve opted to stay silent.

“What do you need a bow for?” Bucky asked.

She smirked, “They’re back in style now. In fact, I just read a lovely article about how they can show off your love life.”

She handed him the magazine, and Bucky whipped through the pages. How was a damn bow supposed to show off your relationship?

Scrolling through the article, Bucky understood its significance.

“Bow worn in the back means that a lady is not interested in men.”

Not a good sign.

Bucky glared at her, on one hand it meant that she was off limits to the base. On the other… well--

“I think you should start wearing it on top, sweetheart.” Dugan declared.

Bucky ran through the rest of the article, a bow on top meant she’d be “out to get herself a man”.

Heaven forbid the rest of the base saw this magazine, or even worse… she actually would wear it on top.

“We’ll see,” Y/N countered, “No one’s caught my eye yet, but with the second deployment coming from the states, maybe I’ll see something I like.”

Dugan laughed, Bucky did not, and Steve knew he was really gonna get his ass kicked now.

Steve had to fix the situation, any desperate action at this point would equate some form of apology.

“Say, Dugan. Buck messed up his arm at the docks, think you could help the boys and I unload the second truck?”

Reading the room, Dugan knew it was better to avoid this encounter rather than be a witness to it. Even if he did get on the girl’s good side…

“Sure Rogers, after all-- I did catch that first truck.”

He clapped Bucky on the shoulder as he followed Steve out.

Dugan was a good man, but Bucky wasn’t too keen on him with the ‘friendly’ competition that had started between them.

Rationed or not, unofficially, Y/N was Bucky’s girl.

Sure, he hadn’t muscled up the courage to ask her. And there was no confirmation from her that she was willing, but regardless, Dugan didn’t need to mess things up for him.

Bucky stood stewing as Y/N continued to read. Fearing silence over awkwardness, the words blurted out of him--

“Steve got shot at.”

She shot up in a fraction of a second, “Today?!”

He shook his head, “No no, last night. At the strategy meeting.”

Bucky then went on to explain what happened with Lorraine and Peggy; Lorraine kissed Steve and, well, Peggy didn’t take a liking to the fraternizing.

“Oh,” Y/N started, “Then I understand why you had to see her this mornin’. That’s, well that’s more important…

“It was,” Bucky said, “but it wasn’t worth breaking a promise.”

She waved her hand at him, feeling foolish.

“It’s Stevie, that’s more important than some groceries and a… silly bow.”

She should just return the damn thing, what point was there in making some silly statement like that?

Bucky cleared his throat, though jealousy had taken over him before… he quite liked how it enlightened her features.

“I like the bow.” He said.

Bucky leant in close, pulling the bobby pin from her hair and letting her braids fall.

She wasn’t sure if he had ever been that close before. Sure, a hug, a hand on the waist.

But his face, so near to hers… that was something new.

Her breath hitched as he set the pin in her hand, his face inches from hers.

“But having it in the back doesn’t suit you… you should wear it on the side.”

He pulled away, sauntering to the exit of her tent.

Leaving her aghast, she frantically flipped through the pages of her magazine.

One side meant she was deeply in love, the other meant she was going steady.

“Which side?” She called.

He laughed over his shoulder, “The right.”

She stammered, “Your right or my right?”

He smiled, walking out and laughing as she followed him.

“Wait! Your right or my right? Bucky? Bucky!”

“Bucky.”

Y/N’s eyes shot open. Light beat brightly into her eyes, a never-ending flash of white. Her head was pounding, ears ringing, vision blurred…

It took her a moment to collect herself, turning into the floor to shield herself from the sun…

The sun. She was outside.

It was then she realized that the lab was gone, cold and damp grass beneath her.

She looked up slowly, attempting to take in her surroundings.

She laid in the open, a cluster of pine trees encompassing her. To her right, a collection of rubble of what once stood the Leigh base.

Where was Peggy? Pym, Stark…

What the hell had happened?

Part 7

Copy of the vintage article: here

Master Taglist:

@pigeonmama

@blackhawkfanatic

@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

@dumb-ass-3

@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @niiight-dreamerrrr @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes

Bucky tag list

@emmabarnes

Stitch;

@rabbyo

@impala1967666

@justab-eautifulmess

@avengersgirllorianna

@clockblobber

@bluemoon-icecream @themarvelsimp

@ceo-of-daichi

@moistpotatobear

@hommoturttle

@snuggleducky @jesfreedark

@stevessluttylilwife

Thanks for waiting so long for this update! I’m sorry if I missed your username, if you have requested to be part of my tag list and have changed your username, please let me know.

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky fanfic

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