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bellofthemeadow · 7 months

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Harrington!reader, Steve’s little sister. Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.

OF COURSE MY DEAR ANON! I am so sorry it took forever to address this request! I have just started my final year of Uni, and with four seminars and graduate applications, I have not had any time to write consistently! But this idea was too enticing to pass up, so thank you very much for sharing it! For those waiting on other fics, I am slowly but surely getting back into the groove of writing more consistently so it should all come out sooner rather than later (hopefully) and I always welcome more fics or one shot ideas! Thank you to y'all for bearing with me, I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️

No warnings excpet for some violence (against Jason Carver so thats fine I think) and some heavy make out session

Word Count: 5.3K

Masterlist

Hit Me Baby One More Time

You had gotten your first taste of popularity on your very first day of middle school, a couple of years ago. That entire week leading up to it had been filled with fear and stress about what people would think of you. Overwhelmed, you had spent the last few days of your summer agonizing over your outfit choice, turning your daily fashion show into a reluctant performance for your big brother, Steve. Despite his huffs and puffs, he had reassured you that everything would go smoothly, but you couldn't help to worry. Eventually, you ended up settling on a cute white dress that reached just above your knees, paired with a soft baby pink cardigan. You had hoped it would be enough to get some of the right kind of attention that Steve always talked about.

In hindsight, you realized that you might have been a tad dramatic as when lunchtime had rolled around, a group of girls had approached you, giggling with excitement. "Are you Steve Harrington's sister?" they had asked-whispered with bright envious eyes. You slowly nodded, and with elated giggles, they ushered you over to their table, where the popular crowd was hanging out. It turned out your brother had quite the reputation, and while you knew he was popular, you hadn't fully grasped the extent to which the name Harrington would impact your social life. For you, Steve was just the idiot older brother who used Farah Fawcet's hairspray to keep his dumb hair in place – But to everyone else, it seemed that Steve was a pretty big deal. So, you were, it seemed, a legacy, and the rest, as they say, was history. And that very day, you also ended up meeting your future best friend, Chrissy Cunningham, who you would grow to love with all your heart.

Five years had come and gone, and now, you were finally well-established into your senior year, ready to graduate in the spring. And while it was true that your older brother might have facilitated your initial entry into the realm of popularity, you had since etched out a distinctive name for yourself. As your brother moved on to new chapters in his life (namely an underpaid job at family video), your own journey through high school took a markedly different path. In fact, your popularity had continued to ascend, like a rising star in the night sky.

Though the Harrington name may have laid the foundation, you had meticulously built upon it, brick by brick. You had cultivated your own unique persona, and it had become a force to be reckoned with in the hallways of your school. No longer living in the shadow of your brother's glory days, you had emerged as a charismatic figure in your own right.

You had become The Harrington sibling who truly counted, especially after the dramatic showdown between Steve and Billy Hargrove during his own senior year. In the aftermath of that clash, your brother's social standing had taken a considerable hit, with much of his social credit being seized by the mullet-wearing bad-boy. The Harrington name, which had once been associated with Steve's swagger, now conjured images of a radiant, saccharine smile, cheerleading outfits, and a personality as pinky-sweet as bubblegum.

While Chrissy indisputably reigned as the queen of Hawkins High, some believed it was only because you had no desire to claim that throne—a belief rooted in truth as you had no interest of being the queen of anything, especially Hawkins High as beyond Chrissy, you harboured little affection for the other members of the popular clique. Whether it was Jason Carver and his cronies or the remainder of the cheer squad, you couldn't help but find them increasingly vapid.

Nestled at the popular table right in the heart of the bustling cafeteria, always donning Hawkins’ green cheer outfit, a nagging sensation of inauthenticity always clung to you. Hitching deep into your soul, making you feel like the fraud you’ve always believed yourself to be as although your elevated social status had smoothed your journey through high school, ensuring a constant stream of party invitations, a steadfast companion, and even a few favors from teachers who were drawn to your preppy smile and sunny disposition, it all felt like a facade, far removed from your true self.

You’ve always known how deep inside, there were facets of who you really were that you couldn't openly share with anyone but Chrissy. She alone knew of your profound love for fantasy and science fiction novels. Nothing brought you more joy than retreating home to dive headlong into the mystical realms crafted by H.P. Lovecraft or to lose yourself once more in the pages of your well-worn copy of "Frankenstein." Yet, these passions remained concealed beneath the veneer you projected: the princess of Hawkins High, painted in shades of pink, sweet, and deceptively perfect.

The idea of letting those hidden, nerdy passions of yours see the light of day felt like a risky bet, one that could potentially leave you feeling incredibly alone at Hawkins High. The thought of losing friends and having nowhere to sit during lunch was a constant source of worry. You had faith in Chrissy's unwavering support, regardless of your social standing, but you couldn't bear the idea of burdening her. She was just so kind, always forgiving even to those who didn't deserve it, and you didn't want to be the one responsible for pulling her down.

As a result, the decision to keep these aspects of your identity hidden weighed heavily on your heart. It felt like an unspoken loneliness, a sacrifice you were making to preserve the fragile balance of the life you'd carefully constructed in high school. Hawkins High had its own intricate ecosystem, and you were very much a part of it. Your place within that system was delicate, and you couldn't afford to disrupt it, fearing that it might set off a chain reaction that could destabilize everything. You had no intention of being the one to upset the frail high school biome of Hawkins High.

Now, however, your situation was far from ideal as you found yourself sandwiched between Carly and Tina during lunch, and today, they were even more exasperating than usual. There seemed to be some sort of fallout from Tina's last party, something involving a boy, and now the two girls communicated exclusively through snarky remarks, making the tension rise with every snip from either girl. A brewing headache was beginning to claw at your temples as you were waiting for the explosion to erupt sooner rather than later.

What was happening in front of you wasn’t any better as you were given a front-row seat to the somewhat uncomfortable sight of Jason Carver deeply engrossed in a passionate kiss with Chrissy. She appeared to be on the brink of embarrassment, her attempts to gently push Jason away carried out with shy reluctance. "Jason, please," she implored, her manicured hand finding its way to his chest, a plea in her eyes. "Not in front of everyone..."

In response, Jason merely rolled his eyes dismissively. "Come on, baby," he insisted, his voice low and unconcerned. "No one's even paying attention to us."

You couldn't help but scowl, unhappiness etching your delicate features as you watched the uncomfortable display unfold before you. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You cleared your throat and loudly exclaimed, "Hey, Chrissy?" All eyes turned to you, and you continued, "Do you think we could slip away from lunch a bit early to go over the routine we've been practicing for the upcoming game? I really want to make sure I've got it down perfectly before tonight's match."

Chrissy's sigh of relief was almost audible, and you could sense her gratitude. In contrast, Jason huffed unhappily, clearly irritated by the interruption. He muttered something about leaving you girls to your conversation before he got up and headed to chat with one of his buddies at the far end of the table.

You and Chrissy shared a quick, wordless girl-to-girl conversation. All the words you needed were conveyed through a bombastic side-eye from you and a subtle nod of your head toward Jason. Chrissy responded with a playful roll of her eyes and a slight shake of her shoulder, silently agreeing with your sentiment.

As your eyes shifted away from Chrissy, they unexpectedly locked onto the deep brown ones of Eddie Munson. Two distinct emotions surged from deep within you. One was a rush of excitement as the warmth of your crush enveloped you, causing your face to flush as red as a ripe apple under his gaze. But in an instant, that crush felt almost crushing when you realized that it wasn't you that Eddie was looking at, but rather Chrissy's high ponytail that had captured his attention.

Eddie and Chrissy. Chrissy and Eddie. ChrissyandEddie. It was an undeniable fact that the guy you had the most enormous crush on happened to be utterly smitten with your best friend. It felt almost tragically comical, if you were being honest with yourself. Throughout high school, countless guys had mustered the courage to ask you out, but you had dismissed them all without a second thought. Football jocks, band nerds, potheads, music fanatics – none of them could hold a candle to Eddie Munson in your eyes.From the very moment you first crossed paths with Eddie during your freshman year, your heart had been irreversibly, completely, and utterly captivated by the charismatic and outspoken boy. You were utterly unprepared for it, not like you were out there seeking Cupid's arrow to pierce your heart. You had simply been an unsuspecting victim of one of its whims, but the exquisite pain that followed was worth it. At least, you hoped so.

Thanks to Eddie's recurring attempts at redoing his senior year and your placement in advanced classes, your worlds intersected more than once. One particularly unforgettable encounter unfolded in Mrs. Allen's math class, where the teacher had a peculiar notion that pairing the class's worst student (Eddie) with its best (you) would somehow work magic. You were left a bit shy and entirely tongue-tied in his presence, but Eddie had an uncanny talent for leaning in close and delivering a barrage of side-splitting, utterly inappropriate observations about Mrs. Allen that left you snorting with laughter. For a glorious three months, Eddie was your math partner in crime, and during that time, you dared to believe that something more could evolve from your interactions. If only you could string together coherent sentences without tripping over your words.

However, as fate would have it, the teacher eventually grew tired of her seating arrangement, deciding it was high time to shake things up. This twist in your high school narrative resulted in you and Eddie being separated, an alteration you weren't particularly thrilled about. The new arrangement effectively put a damper on your burgeoning connection.

It was in the midst of this seating shuffle that Eddie tossed a rather loaded question your way, catching you off guard. "Your friend Chrissy," he began, as you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. "Is she still with that Carver douche?" Your gaze faltered as you met his, a nod escaping your lips as a wave of disappointment surged within you. Inwardly grappling with the sting of unspoken heartache, you found yourself clutching the hem of your cheer skirt almost desperately. Without another word, you retreated to your newly assigned seat, a sense of melancholy lingering like a shadow and bitter disappointment coating your tongue.

Even now, your gaze would involuntarily flicker to Eddie whenever you found yourself in the same room. Often, he'd be engrossed in conversations with his bandmates or his D&D group, leaving you on the outside looking in. It was a conflicting sensation, feeling his presence so near yet so far away. If only you could gather the nerve to strike up a conversation with him, but you hesitated. After all, you were the popular girl, the one who played by the rules, and good girls weren't supposed to mix with people like Eddie, no matter how much you desperately longed for it. Perhaps during math class today, you thought, you might find a plausible excuse to approach him. Maybe something as simple as asking about the homework or...

"And what the hell do you think you're staring at, Freak!?" The sudden hush that swept over the cafeteria was palpable as every head turned toward Jason, who had abandoned your table and was now striding purposefully toward the one where Eddie and his friends were seated. A chill coursed through your veins, causing your face to pale. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the unfolding drama as Eddie rose from his seat. While he appeared outwardly confident, the telltale clenching and unclenching of his hand betrayed the nervousness bubbling beneath the surface. It was clear to you that what he was displaying might just be a facade of bravado.

"Did you dribble that orange ball a few too many times, Carver?" Eddie sarcastically chimed in. His words hung in the air, an open challenge that seemed to stoke the flames of Jason's anger. In a fit of rage, Jason lunged forward, grabbing Eddie by the front of his well-worn jeans jacket. The cafeteria held its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in.

A gasp escaped your lips, a sharp, involuntary intake of breath as the dramatic confrontation unfolded before your eyes. Abruptly, you shot up from your seat, causing Chrissy to turn around in surprise. She sent you an uncertain look as you started to stride toward the two boys. It was as if you were possessed by a force stronger than yourself, you couldn’t let whatever was happening continue – you had to do something!

"Don't try to bullshit me, freak!" Jason's voice reverberated through the cafeteria, anger and scorn dripping from his words. "I saw you looking at Chrissy. You think you can just lay your eyes on her, you freak? She isn't yours; you're nothing but trailer trash! Don't you ever dare to look at her again, alright? Or I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!" Jason was so close to Eddie's face that his spittle sprayed across the other boy's features. He shoved Eddie backward, and it was at that moment, as you were making your way between the mass of students that had clustered around Jason and Eddie that you felt a surge of red-hot anger like nothing you had ever felt before.

"Do I make myself clear, freak?" Jason continued, his voice dripping with malice. "Or do I need to send my boys to deal with you and your pathetic group of losers?" Eddie looked incensed, but he cowered under Jason's menacing threat.

"I...wasn't...looking," Eddie enunciated each word through gritted teeth, avoiding Jason's eyes. Jason burst into fake laughter, glancing around at the onlookers.

"Does the freak have a crush?" he taunted, his voice cruel and derisive. "That's hilarious. You honestly think you'd have a chance with Chrissy? Be realistic, freak. What is it now, twice repeating your senior year?" Eddie's face turned a deep shade of pink, shame washing over him as Jason's taunts struck at his insecurities. His shoulders sagged with each insult, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Everyone knows anyway that the only way a freak like you could ever get close to a girl is when you and your little cult of Satan practice some sacrifices," Jason continued, his words laced with venom. "I'm even surprised they let people like you in here. Everyone knows what kind of trash your dad was, it ain't surprising that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree…”

You pushed your way through the crowd, determination propelling you forward. Without a second thought, you strode purposefully toward the back of Jason. Eddie's surprised gaze locked onto you as you confidently approached them.

You extended your arm and lightly tapped Jason on the shoulder, effectively cutting off his rant mid-sentence. The abruptness of your action prompted Jason to whirl around to face you, his typically handsome features now contorted into a repulsive mask of anger. It was a stark contrast to the carefully cultivated "cool-guy" image he often projected. But deep down, you knew this enraged countenance was his true face, hidden behind the facade. In fight or flight mode, you recalled your brother Steve's advice about fighting, which you had stored away in your memory, "Sis," Steve's voice echoed in your mind, "when you throw a punch, put your entire body behind it."

And that's precisely what you did. With every ounce of your body weight, you thrust your fist forward directly into Jason's face. The cafeteria was filled with a sharp crack, echoing through the room, followed by a collective gasp from everyone present. An eerie silence descended upon the cafeteria.

Jason lay sprawled on the floor, a violent stream of blood gushing from his nose, while you clutched your hand close to your chest. Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes. No one had ever warned you that hitting someone would hurt like an absolute nightmare! It ] wasn’t like that in the movies!

Your gaze landed on Eddie, and you noticed a peculiar expression take over the young metalhead’s face – His brown gaze held something unfamiliar, a look you had never seen throughout the time you had been admiring him from afar. I was as though he were seeing you – like he was attempting to decipher the mechanics of your very being. It caught you off guard, this intensity in his stare, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

“YOU BITCH! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!” Jason roared from his sprawled position on the ground.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Eddie, you redirected it toward the fallen boy who cut a rather pathetic figure at your feet. Curling your lip in disdain, you adopted your most haughty tone and huffed, "You, Jason Carver, are the problem here!"

Jason, still sprawled on the floor with a nosebleed, glared up at you, his anger palpable, "You little—"

Before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a stern gesture. "Save it, Jason. You had this coming."

A stunned silence blanketed the cafeteria, every eye fixed on the unfolding confrontation. It was as if time had frozen, and the entire room held its breath in rapt attention as Hawkins' princess unleashed her verbal assault on the school's reigning king.

In that moment, you felt like you had the entire cafeteria in a chokehold, and you were determined not to let this opportunity slip away, not after what Jason had put Eddie through. Gathering your resolve, you continued, your voice dripping with disdain, "Do you honestly believe you can bully and belittle people just because they don't conform to your narrow definition of 'normal'? Well, I've had enough of your toxic attitude! You, my dear Jason, are the most insufferable idiot I've ever had the displeasure of encountering in my entire life! And I am done catering to whatever you and your dumb friends say!”

Jason struggled to get up, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Turning back to Jason, you crossed your arms and delivered your final message with authority. "Consider this a warning, Jason. Mess with Eddie or anyone else again, and you'll have me to answer to."

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Principal Higgins' thunderous voice pierced through the otherwise eerily silent cafeteria. In an instant, your confidence evaporated, leaving you feeling pale and exposed. You were caught off guard, unable to process what to do or say.

Before you could even react, a familiar, warm hand firmly grabbed yours, yanking you along as they sprinted in the opposite direction, forcefully pushing people out of the way. It was a grip you knew well, and you didn't hesitate to follow Eddie as he practically dragged you toward the exit of the cafeteria.

The scene you left behind was nothing short of chaotic. The entire school stood in a collective stupor, mouths agape in disbelief. Jason Carver, his face an alarming shade of red, appeared on the brink of an aneurysm as he struggled to regain his composure. Principal Higgins, in his authoritative fury, barked orders at the bewildered students, demanding answers and an immediate end to the commotion.

As you reached the exit and the clamor of the cafeteria began to fade, you couldn't help but let out a giggle of exhilaration. Eddie continued to lead you, now behind the school building and into the dense woods that bordered the campus. The farther you ventured into the secluded forest, the more you appreciated the sudden escape from the madness. Eventually, Eddie brought you to a worn-out picnic table, the wood weathered by years of exposure to the elements. Eddie finally managed to catch his breath. He exhaled heavily and asked, "What the hell... hfff... was that?!"

You leaned against the picnic table, still catching your own breath, and grinned at Eddie. "That, Eddie, was me finally giving Jason Carver a taste of his own medicine. That douchebag had it coming!"

Eddie let out a loud surprised laugh while still trying to catch his breath, his eyes still wide from the unexpected turn of events. "Well, I've gotta say, sweetheart, that was quite the show back there. You really let him have it, you got a mean hook princess." A warm flush of pride swept over you as you soaked in Eddie's praises. How long had you waited to hear him say something like that—to acknowledge you and gaze at you as if you were the most wonderful girl in the world? It was a feeling you had been yearning for so long, and if you were to die right now, you would die happy!

Eddie's warm, chocolate-coloured gaze landed on you, and it felt as though it softly swept over every inch of your being. He spoke, his voice filled with curiosity, "I don't think anyone was expecting Hawkins' princess to come to the defence of the 'freak.' You know they won't let you forget this, right? Why would you risk all that for little old me, Harrington?"

You let out a sigh, the weight of his inquisitive gaze pressing on you. As you closed your eyes briefly, you grappled with the emotions that had been swirling within you since the first time you had laid eyes on Eddie. A small smile crept onto your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, fixing them on the boy of your dreams. "You're worth it, Munson."

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, taking three steps closer to you. His large, warm hands, bearing tiny scars from playing the guitar, gently swept across your cheeks as he gazed intently into your eyes. "Do you mean that, Harrington? Because there's no going back if I kiss you right now—it's you and me, the princess and the 'freak.' You won’t climb back from that fall.”

You glanced at your right hand, the knuckles scraped and the skin raw, with a slight swelling on your wrist. "I think it's a little too late for that anyway," you sheepishly admitted. Eddie smiled warmly, his eyes filled with admiration, before gently taking your hand in his two larger ones. He slowly brought your bruised knuckles to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on each of them, causing your breath to hitch.

"Who knew that the princess of Hawkins High was Indiana’s future boxing champion," Eddie softly joked, his voice laced with affection. "I just feel bad for this pretty, soft hand – all bruised and battered to protect me, like the prettiest knight in pink armor coming to my rescue." You couldn't help but swoon at his words as Eddie continued to softly kiss your hand, his gaze slowly lifting to meet yours, his eyes filled with… Love? Tenderness? A girl could dream.

A warm smile curved across Eddie's lips, and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his in a searing kiss. As you both savored each other, Eddie's hand slowly wrapped around the base of your neck, holding you close to him. As you were trying not to faint from the sheer pleasure this moment was bringing you, a flash of remembrance rushed through you, snapping you back from your trance and causing you to break the kiss and catch your breath. You whispered softly against Eddie's lips, "What about Chrissy?"

Eddie nuzzled your face with his nose, his lips brushing lightly against your skin. "What about her?" he retorted playfully. "I mean... I thought... I thought you had a thing for her," you admitted meekly.

Eddie smirked against your cheek. "If I did, I wouldn't be kissing you right now, right?" His voice held a teasing edge as he continued to shower your neck with tender kisses.

You closed your eyes, feeling a mix of contradicting emotions – wanting to keep going to feel more of him, wishing him to stop playing with your heart because you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. "I mean it, Eddie... I don't want to be your second choice."

Eddie stopped his ministrations and returned to your face, holding your gaze with his. "You were always my first choice, Eddie," you confessed, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. "And I don't think I could handle being your backup plan."

Eddie's whispers were tender as he wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks. "Nononono, sweetheart. Don't cry, please," he implored softly. "You were always my first choice." His words held a reassuring sincerity that began to soothe your racing heart. But you wouldn’t be so easily swayed, as much as you loathed Jason Carver, you had witnessed first hand how Eddie seemed enraptured with Chrissy.

You huffed in disbelief, but Eddie insisted, urging you to meet his gaze. "No, it's true. Hey, look at me," he gently encouraged. "I never thought I would ever have a chance with a girl like you. You know, you're like my dream girl, right?" You gave him an uncertain look, still wrestling with your doubts. "You always stare at Chrissy, though. And you did ask me if she was still with Jason, remember?"

Eddie released your cheeks and took a step back, embarrassment tinging his cheeks as he used a piece of his shaggy hair to shield himself from you. "I wasn't looking at Chrissy. You're always with Chrissy, so I was looking at you," he admitted, his voice tinged with shyness. "And I only asked you that because I panicked. I was going to ask you out, but the guys had been teasing me for weeks, telling me I was too much of a coward to do it. I guess they were right because I chickened out."

As Eddie continued, his embarrassment grew, and he took another step back. He held the piece of hair in front of his face, as if to hide himself from you. "I've actually had a crush on you since last year," he confessed, his words shocking you.

"Are you joking?!" you blurted out, astonished.

He shook his head, his warm brown eyes holding your gaze. "Not at all, princess," he began with a soft smile. "It was last year. You were on your way back from cheer practice, and you were in a hurry, holding a huge backpack. It happened so fast that you didn't even realize a book had fallen out."

His eyes sparkled as he continued, his tone becoming more animated. "I saw it lying there, and curiosity got the best of me – I picked it up, and to my surprise, it was a copy of 'The Hobbit.’” He grinned as if sharing a secret. "I was planning to return it to you, honestly, but then, when I opened it, I saw that there was a bunch of notes in the margins." Eddie started grinning even more as he continued “All there in the margins, notes, thoughts, musings. It was like reading your mind with every turn of the page. Your insights, your emotions, your laughter, and even your frustrations were all there in the margins. I knew I had stumbled upon the most precious treasure in the universe – it was a private window into you."

Your breath hitched at his words, and as Eddie spoke, you felt a warmth spreading through you, "It felt like we were close," Eddie continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "I couldn't put the book down. It was like having a conversation with you, even when you weren't around. I realized how much we had in common, how you saw the world, and it fascinated me.”

The thought that Eddie had held onto that copy of 'The Hobbit,' with your notes and thoughts, all this time was both surprising and heartwarming. Damn, he was perfect.

"Fuck, I sound so creepy," Eddie confessed, breaking your reverie. He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.

But you weren’t creeped out, far from it. For the first time in your life, you felt completely understood by someone – inside and out. "No, Eddie," you whispered softly, your heart swelling with love. "You don't sound creepy at all. You sound... perfect." A sweet cocky grin got etched on Eddie’s lips “Perfect, eh?”

Getting overwhelmed by his stare, you tried to play it cool and diverted his question by teasingly asking, "So you’ve had a big fat crush on me for a while, right?"

Eddie chuckled, taking a step closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. "Don't get too high and mighty, princess," he said with a warm smile, his voice laced with adoration. "From the looks of it, you've got a pretty big crush on little old me too…"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling a delightful warmth in the pit of your stomach. "I can neither confirm nor deny that," you replied in a sing-song voice, your eyes never leaving his.

Eddie's smile deepened, his gaze filled with affection. With a tender touch, he placed his hands on your waist, and before you knew it, he had spun you around. You couldn't help but let out a joyful squeak as you twirled together in a sweet, romantic dance. As he gently lowered you back to the ground, his strong arms remained securely wrapped around your back, pulling you close.

In that intimate moment, it felt as though the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you entwined in each other's embrace. Your breaths synchronized, and you lost yourselves in each other's eyes, the unspoken promise of a beautiful future passing between you.

"Hey, Eddie," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but filled with affection and longing.

Eddie's gaze softened even more, his eyes filled with tenderness as he held you close. "Yeah, princess?"

With a radiant smile, you leaned in closer to him, your heart singing with love. "I've got a big fat crush on you too."

A soft, contented sigh escaped Eddie's lips, and he held you even tighter as if he never wanted to let you go. "Good." And without another word, he pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. Nothing ever tasted sweeter.

“You gonna be alright sitting with the freaks now?” “As long as I sit with you Eddie, I could not care less.”

The fallen princess and the freak," you thought contentedly, "that has the ringing of a love story for the ages.” And all it took was that punch you threw at Jason Carver's face for you and Eddie to find your way to each other.

#eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #chrissy cunningham #jason carver

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fluffysucker · 6 months

Text

Desperate People find faith.

Bucky Barnes x reader

An accident mends your broken heart.

A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.

I read this amazing oneshot, and I couldn't stop thinking about this idea. So I added my own twist to it. Thanks to the wonderful writer for sharing it and for inspiring me.

Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me

TW: Bullets and blood. Mentions of torture but nothing explicit

Main Masterlist

You knew you shouldn't have done it. You should have stayed home. What could barely be described a home. You should have minded your business. You should have acted like the civilian you are now. You shouldn't have done it. But your loyalty to Steve wouldn't have let you

The image of the cheap copy so-called Captain America holding the shield blasting all over the news was a hit. A gut-wrenching hit. There was a guy who was taking the place of your childhood best friend, the man you called brother, the fearless leader. And he looked happy doing so. Then the blond had the audacity to say that Steve felt like a brother to him. You felt physical pain that you almost threw up.

Rationality went out the window. Before you knew any better, you were tracking down the man who was handed your friend's legacy. The man who gave it away when there was nobody more deserving than him. It wasn't hard to know exactly where Sam Wilson was. You were aware he joined the Air Force once again. So you hijacked the location of his next mission, demanding answers.

But it appeared that you weren't the only one who had the same plan. As you were talking to Sam, trying to be as nice as you could, giving him the benefit of the doubt, telling him you weren't here to judge or pick a fight. You just wanted an explanation. You heard him.

"Shouldn't have given up the shield."

His voice was filled with anger. But you could hear the sadness hidden in his tone. Sam scuffed, walking away from you as well. You turned around and you saw him. The love of your life. Quite literally.

You fail to recall a time you weren't in love with James Buchanan Barnes. Growing up together, your trio was inseparable. You would never see one without the others. From the age of three till your twenties, the three of you were more than family.

Despite loving Steve like the brother you never had, the same couldn't be said about his best friend. Your feelings for the brunette were never platonic. Neither were his. In the second grade, he promised to marry you once he got older. And he did. He kneeled to the ground with a beautiful golden ring for you once he secured a job. It was the easiest yes in your life.

Loving him came to you naturally. Stolen glances. Sweet words. Fast heartbeats. Shy smiles. Gentle touches. You were each other first everything. It was like you were made for each other. Like you were born to love him.

And he was your perfect man. Every woman envied you. Every woman hoped to have someone look at her like he looked at you. Every woman wished for a man who treated her the way he treated you. Every woman prayed for a man to love her that much.

Bucky Barnes was head over heels in love with you. And he made sure he showed it.

You were the luckiest girl.

Up until your luck ran out. War knocked on your door like a hurricane, destroying your life.

You remember the night before Bucky was shipped. When you went home after what couldn't be called a double date at Stark expo. The promises the both of you made. Your dream wedding. Your house. Your family. Your kids. All of it. Your future. And you believed him. You couldn't fathom any alternatives.

So when Steve walked in your tent where you did your job as a journalist, who was asked to cover The Howling Commandos missions and subject their heroism to the public, you knew. The look of utter defeat in his face, his glassy eyes, his red nose, the way he was trying to shrink away in his new huge body, you knew.

Your heart was ripped and broken to pieces. The pain was suffocating. You were drowning. You felt like the world ended. Life stopped.

You don't remember how things went after that. You don't remember if Steve ever said the words to you, but you remember his promise of revenge as he held your sobbing body against his chest.

And he did. He ended Hydra. But it came with a price. Very high. After Steve's sacrifice, life became meaningless. You weren't living. You were barely breathing. You were alone.

So when the government asked you to write the final article about the war, the winning announcement, you were about to turn it down. You found difficulties in everything. Leaving your bed sounded like a tiring task. Eating felt like a punishment. Functioning like a human became a burden.

But you remembered how supportive Bucky was of your career. When every man let women their abandon their dreams, Bucky helped you fight for yours. And he gave his life for this victory. Your fiancée and bestfriend. You owed it to them. To be the one to report the triumph tinted with their effort and blood.

So you put in all your strength and travelled with the small team to write the most important piece of work in your life.

However, only a number of people of the team and the article made it back. You didn't.

On your way back, you were ambushed by unknown soldiers. They took you to unknown quarters. You were so confused until you saw that cursed symbol. They weren't gone. Neither was your fiancée.

And that began a lifetime of torture and pain. They brainwashed Bucky but left you with your memories. So when they threatened to hurt him, you caved and let them do whatever they wanted to you. It was a trap they built for you, and you fell in it every time. They would hurt both of you at the end.

You endured it all. You survived it all. Except the moment they made Bucky look you in the eyes and fight you. They erased you from his mind. You saw the love of your life, and he saw nothing. He looked at you and saw either an enemy or a mission partner. And that was the most painful torture Hydra put you through.

As if this wasn't enough. You had to face a hindrance you never thought of.

After Steve rescued the both of you, after him running away from you, after spending two years making amendments with the government and helping Steve search for him, after the accords and Zemo's predicament, after he remembered you, after Princess Shuri was able to give him back his freedom, after you hugged him as he cried, after you decided to finally have that wedding, Thanos happened.

You believe you did something so terrible in another life, and you were getting punished for it in this life. There was no logical explanation as to why this kept happening to you. Why were you robbed of any chances of happiness. Why did you have to watch your man disappear right after having him back. Why you could only feel ache and misery. Why was the world so cruel.

So you kept your hopes to minimum when Steve came to your shared apartment one night, telling you that they had a plan. You agreed to join them in the time heist, ready to be disappointed.

But the second you saw Bucky standing on the sides with his machine gun, you wanted to cry. You thought it was an illusion, but these blue eyes said something else. Now, you were fighting with a strong drive and purpose.

You thought that was it. Your happy ending. You finally had him. But Steve leaving tore you apart. You were happy for your bestfriend who finally did something for himself. However, you couldn't help but feel sad. At least you and Bucky had each other.

Bucky had another thing in mind. Because, a couple of weeks after Steve leaving, Bucky broke up with. He said he needed to figure himself out and work on his pardon. You understood. But it didn't make it any easier.

So you left, giving him all the space he needed. You hadn't seen or spoken to each other since. At least he is alive. That's what you kept telling yourself to find any sort of comfort or condolence.

So this was the first time you had met. He looked different. He cut his hair. He had a scruff. He was wearing an all black outfit. He had gloves on. He had little bags under his eyes. He looked good overall. That's what mattered to you.

"Good to see you too, Buck." Sam said as he walked with intentions to move away from Bucky.

"This is wrong." Bucky didn't give him the chance as be walked beside Sam, without batting you an eye. You couldn't say that didn't hurt but you followed them anyway.

"Look, I'm working, alright. So all this outrage is going to have to wait." It was clear that Bucky wasn't here to have a civil conversation like you.

"You didn't know this was going to happen?" Bucky accused Sam.

"No, of course I didn't know that was going to happen." Sam was quick to deny Bucky's accusations.

"You think it didn't break my heart to see them march him out and call him the new Captain America." This was more directed towards you, following up to your conversation before Bucky cut in.

"This isn't what Steve wanted." Bucky wasn't going to back down.

"Oh my god. So what do you want me to do? Call America and tell them I changed my mind. " Sam's sarcastic reply did nothing but annoy Bucky's more.

"Like I told your wife. There is nothing we can do. You just couldn't wait for her to get home." You looked at Sam. It didn't appear to you that he wouldn't know.

"We broke up."

Another wave of pain hit you as you turned to look at Bucky, who was still not looking at you. How easy could he just say it with no emotions at all. You were fighting to get by every day, and he looked like he didn't care.

"What?!" Sam stopped suddenly once he heard Bucky's words, turning to the both of you.

"You,two lovebirds who literally broke laws to be together, broke up?" Sam couldn't believe his ears. He thought you would have gotten married by now. Your love for each other more epic than all the novels he read.

"Were you asked to give it up?" You changed the topic quickly, refusing to answer Sam's question or talk about your tragic love story. It hurt bad enough, and you didn't want to show it.

"Of course not." Sam heard you loud and clear. He also knew your question had pure intentions. You weren't here to offend him.

"Right, great reunion, guys. Be well." Sam turned to walk out, ending this conversation.

"You had no right to give up the shield, Sam." Bucky was angry, and he was showing it. In the wrong way.

"This is what you aren't going to do. You aren't going to come here in your over extended life and tell me about my rights." Three of you came to a stop.

"It's over." Sam added, looking at you as you came to stand next to Bucky.

"Besides, I have bigger things to deal with."

And you hadn't rest since.

It was, indeed, big thing to deal with.

You had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you impulsively followed Sam and Bucky into the plane.

It was a constant mess. The flag smashers. New super soldiers. Karli Morgenthau. Isaiah Bradley. Zemo. Madripoor. Power Broker. And the worst of them all. John Walker and Lemar Hoskins. It never ended.

All that chaos was a good distraction. You didn't have time to think about your broken heart nor to think about the current nature of your and Bucky's relationship.

It was complicated and confusing.

You fought very well together. Your combined sets of skills were lethal. Your collective training and ability to work together kicked in when needed. Away from that, the both of you barely talked. You acknowledged each other existence. That's how you would describe it.

However, you couldn't explain why Bucky refused when Raynor asked you and Sam to join them in the session in the police station. Or why he always made sure you stayed at least an arm distance away from Zemo. Or why did he choose to be the Winter Soldier for the night instead of you compromising your identity that you kept a secret all these years. Or why, that day at Madripoor, he almost took multiple bullets for you. Or why whenever John showed up, his hand would always find yours.

You were thankful you didn't have the time to think about all of this because you were sure you would have lost your mind. You barely had your emotions in checks. And there was a lot going on.

Then it all went crushing. You would never forget this day.

You followed Sam and Bucky, running out of the building into the street, only to see the calamity that just occurred.

John Walker stood proud with the blood-tinted shield above the man he just slaughtered.

Instinctively, your hand came up to wrap around Bucky's bicep, looking for any comfort for the both of you. This scene would forever be engraved in your memories.

Three of you gave John some time. You stood outside of the warehouse he was in right now. You knew if you all went angry, the results would be catastrophic.

But it was anyway.

You let Sam do most of the talking. He was the best in this. If anyone could convince John to hand over the shield, it would be him. So you stood and watched. But it appeared that the time you gave John Walker to cool down only drove him more over the edge. So, with the three of telling him to give up the shield, John Walker lost his mind.

It should have been an easy fight. A veteran and an avenger and two super soldiers. It shouldn't be hard. But neither one of the three of you was fighting was the intention to hurt John. Unlike him, John was fighting to kill. With his new powers, he was uncontrollable.

You let out a high-pitched scream once you saw John throw Bucky away, electrocuting his arm, making him lose consciousness. Then you watched as he straddled Sam on the ground. You needed to act quickly.

You groaned as you got up from the floor, looking at the cut in your arm. Nothing too bad. You told yourself as you ran toward John tickling him away from Sam.

It was just you and him, now.

And it was brutal.

You were still trying not to hurt him too much. However, he was unstoppable. So when he figured that he would lose combat with you eventually, he retrieved to other options.

Picking the shield and throwing it at you for it cause a cut in your chest was enough distraction for him to take out the gun he kept in his suit and shot you.

The bullets found their places in your stomach and legs. He aimed for places that you wouldn't recover from. You fell to the ground, coughing blood, feeling the bullets rest so deep in your body.

John walked towards you with the shield. He looked at you. His eyes were showing insanity and rage. He lifted the shield up and hit you in the chest. The pain was like no other. And you knew that was it.

It felt ironic in so many ways. Your bestfriend's shield. The shield that presented all of Steve's values and beliefs. The shield that helped once save your life. Now, it was going to be the weapon to kill you.

Of all the ways you thought you would die in, this wasn't even close. But when was life ever fair to you? At least you would have peace now. Your dying wish was for Bucky to know how much you loved him and how you wanted him to be fine and happy. Because you loved Bucky more than life itself.

You tried to distract yourself from the excruciating pain by counting how many hits of the shield would it take to end you.

You counted two.

You started coughing violently as you felt a weight got lifted off your chest. All your body going numb for seconds.

You saw Bucky was up once again, and he managed to corner John with Sam, trying to break his arm to take away the shield.

You desperately tried to get up and help them, but your whole body was on fire. Why was the serum not working?

A breath escaped you once you heard the sound of bone breaking. Only to realize breathing hurt. Everything hurt so bad.

With cuts on your arms and face, bruises on your ribs, wounds in your chest, bullets in your stomach and legs, you gave up, closing your eyes.

Because of your agonizing pain. You didn't hear Bucky beating the life out of John after taking the shield. He didn't stop until John passed out.

Bucky turned around and saw a sight that came straight out of his worst nightmares. He had seen it too many times. Woke up scared and sweating because of it. A sight that he knew would haunt him more than it already did.

Your lifeless body in a pool of blood.

He took careful steps towards you, praying it would disappear, and this would just be a nightmare of his. But the sound of your faint heartbeats made it real.

"Doll." Bucky got on his knees next to you, holding your motionless body in his arm.

You hissed in pain as you felt a movement that caused all the pain in your body to stir awake again.

"Bucky." Your voice was a whisper. You were too tired to open your eyes, but the feeling of the metal around you was familiar.

"I'm right here, doll." Bucky may not let it show in his voice, but if you opened your eyes, you would see the fear and tears.

"I need you to stay awake, okay. Can you do this for me? Please, stay awake." Bucky never felt this desperate before.

"Help is on the way." The three of you had already arranged with Torres to have an ambulance on stand-by. You had a feeling things would go bad. But not that bad.

"I'm tired." The amount of blood you were losing was making you too dizzy.

"I know, doll. But you will be okay." Bucky didn't care about the blood getting all over him as he pulled you closer to him.

"You will get better. Because you have to." He was saying it more to himself than you.

"I prayed for this." Talking was getting too hard, but you had to tell.

"What did you pray for?" Bucky was doing anything to keep you awake. He needed to listen to your voice.

"To die in your arms."

Bucky felt the tears escape his eyes, falling down freely on his face.

"You aren't dying. You will be okay." You heard it. The shakiness of his voice.

Fighting the great pain you were in, you opened your eyes to look at him. You wanted to see him one last time. This is why you prayed to die in his arms. So his face would be the last thing to see. This voice would be the last thing you heard. His arms the last thing you felt. Your farewell to the cruel world would be with the man who had been your heaven on Earth.

You lifted your arm with a moan of pain before you placed it on his cheek. You needed to say it. You needed it to be your last words.

"I love you, Bucky. I loved you my whole life."

With that, the world went dark.

You didn't get to see the mess that Bucky became as he heard your heartbeats slow down. His screams and desperate calls of your name to wake up.

He was so blinded by pain that he didn't let the paramedics near, protecting your body until he realized who they were. They didn't try to fight him when he insisted on getting in the ambulance with you.

All the time you were in the surgery, Bucky was inconsolable. He didn't care that Sam and Torres saw him as he sobbed, sitting on the floor waiting for anybody to tell you were fine. All he cared about was that he didn't say it back. You could die not knowing how much he loved you. The thought brought new tears to his already puffy red eyes

He prayed to God and anyone that would hear. If you were standing close enough, you would hear him. "Please, don't take her from me." "Please, let her be okay." "Take me instead of her." "She deserves so much better, please."

In his long life that was filled with hardships, torture, and wars, this was the worst pain he ever went through. He could feel his heart twisting and breaking. Every cell in his body was hurting. The emotional pain turning physical.

His eyes were dried up. Cheeks stained with tears. His mind going through all the worst scenarios. None of them he would be able to survive.

He jumped up from the floor when the door opened, and a doctor walked out. His heart was beating a thousand miles a second. All these prayers never leaving his mouth. His last hope.

"She is okay."

Tears of relief fell from his eyes. You survived it. You made it. The doctor talked about your injuries. With medications and the seurm, you would heal properly. Bucky didn't pay attention. His mind focused on one thing. He needed to see you.

After knowing your room's number, Bucky didn't leave your side. The doctor told him it might take a bit for you to wake up, but he didn't mind. He would stay forever.

It wasn't long before you woke up.

You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright lights. The last thing you remember was the intense pain. It didn't hurt as much now. You just felt so exhausted. You tried to move your hands, only to be blocked.

You looked down to see Bucky holding your hand so tightly and his head resting next to it. You could tell his eyes were swollen and his nose was red. But he looked peaceful sleeping. You missed him so much.

Without much thought, you moved your other free hand to his head, playing with his hair. It felt soft under your fingers. You blamed the serum that made him wake up from such a simple touch.

You smiled softly as you watched him, trying to remember where he was and what he was doing. He looked confused until he saw you.

"You are awake." Bucky got up from the seat next to the bed.

"Are you okay? Are you pain? What hurts? I'm going to call the doctor." He was frantic. He only stopped when you held his metal hand.

"I'm okay, Bucky." You reassured him with a smile.

You repeated it a couple of times before he finally sat back down on the chair. That's when you noticed he was still in his suit that was covered in blood. Your blood.

After he sat down, he looked at your intertwined fingers together and couldn't help the tears.

"What's wrong?" You asked as you moved your thumb gently on his knuckles.

"You scared the life out of me." He answered as he wiped his tears away.

"Though we were used to this, Barnes." You replied playfully, hands still together.

"Not when it comes to you. Never you." Bucky was fast to respond.

"Nothing I haven't been through before." You said it casually. You didn't miss the look in Bucky's eyes. It held too much depth to it. You couldn't put your hand on it

"Is your arm okay? Do you need to get it checked?" Flashbacks were coming back to you bit by a bit. As you touched his metal arm, you remembered what happened to him.

"You are in the hospital bed, and you are asking about my arm." Bucky's laugh was dry. He would always be in awe of how caring you were.

"I will never stop caring about, Bucky. Even if you don't want me." It was true. Nothing could make you stop caring about Bucky.

"Don't want you?" Bucky couldn't let your comment go by.

"Yeah. You don't want me anymore. It's okay. I understand."

"You understand?"

"I remind you of a bad time. The worst. And you had to move on. You had to cut ties with all parts of this time."

"Is this why you think we broke up?"

"Isn't it?"

You started telling yourself this after the breakup as a way to pick the shattered pieces of your heart. Of course, he didn't want to be with someone who held their bad time as a constant reminder on her body as scars. Or with someone who went through the same hell as him. He deserved someone better. Someone who wasn't so damaged.

And you understood.

"No, it isn't."

He was planning to tell you everything but not right now. But words just fell out from the tip of his tongue.

"I don't look at you and see bad time. I look at you, and I see all my failures."

You looked at him, baffled, not getting what he meant.

"I remember everything."

You still didn't know what he wanted to say.

"I remember what Hydra did to you. What they made you do for me. What I did to you."

"Bucky.."

"How they pushed you too far in the lies of not hurting me. How they made you watch as they erased you from my mind. How they made me fight you. Hurt you."

You were about to tell him how you didn't hold him accountable to any of this because it was never his fault. It was never his intention. You were sure Bucky would never hurt you. The Winter Soldier not too. But he cut you off.

"They took you because they knew how much you meant to me. How important you are to me. I was the reason you had to go through all of this."

"I look at you and remember how I failed to protect you. When that's all I ever wanted in life. To protect you. But I failed."

"Just like I failed today."

Before you could say anything, he kept going.

"I couldn't understand how you could still love me."

"I looked at the list of people I hurt, and your name was first. And you wanted to help me. You wanted to stay by my side. I couldn't live with the guilt. I still can't. I had to let you go despite how bad it hurts."

"But, doll, I want you to be sure nobody will ever love you half as much as I do."

It took years for Hydra to remove you from his mind. But what they didn't know was that they never fully succeeded.

At first, he would forget his name but remember his girl and everything about you. Then they become harsher, so he would only remember your face and name. Then, it became only your face. Then nothing. The blank paper for them to write what they wanted.

However, whenever Hydra made the both of you train together or go on missions, he would get this rush of flashbacks like a movie playing in his head once he was alone in his cell. It would be you. In different places and different ages. The Winter Soldier would convince himself that it must be his memories from past missions. Effects of being wiped too many times.

The soldier was never able to shake the feeling of guilt after a training session where he would be instructed to be tough with you. A feeling so foreign to him.

He remembers the first time he refused to hurt you. They made him watch from far as they tortured you. Then they wiped him again. Every time he showed any sympathy for you, he was wiped and handled roughly.

But all the efforts weren't enough. You were the first thing he remembered once he settled in Bucharest. That's when the guilt came in. It was you. The love of his love. His fiancée. And they got to you. And he couldn't save you.

Even after the blip, His thoughts kept going back to how he betrayed you and hurt you instead of protecting you like he was meant it.

But the worst part was how he thought he didn't deserve your love anymore. He thought you would resent him. So he decided to break his heart into two. He left.

You were the forbidden topic that Raynor wasn't allowed to go near despite how much she wanted. You were the centre of his nightmares. All of them. Past memories of both of you at Hydra. Missions and trainings. And the worst, losing you. Watching you getting killed. Nightmares that invaded him, and he was defenceless.

"I love you, and I'm so sorry." Bucky laid soft kiss on your hand.

"Let me ask a question, Bucky." He looked at you, tears still filling his eyes.

You didn't expect this to be the real reason why you and Bucky broke up. But you should have known. He was too good of a man.

"If it had been the other way you around, wouldn't you have done the same? Would you have hated me then?"

"I would give my life for you without hesitation. And nothing could ever make me hate you."

His answer was fast. That was the only thing he knew about himself. You come first, always.

"Then why are you surprised with what I did? You don't love me more, Bucky." You laughed softly, already feeling your ribs ache a bit.

You always had this running joke that Bucky loved you more than you did. And to a lot of the extent, it was true.

"You didn't deserve it."

"Neither did you."

You patted the spot on bed next to you, wanting him to be close to you. And he listened. He sat on the bed, hands never leaving each other.

"Haven't we been through enough? Haven't the world tore us apart too many times? Let us have this."

If he still loved you, then you should be together. You should be broken together. You should heal together. It was poetic how even in pain, you were still together.

Both of you understood each other better than anyone. You shouldn't be separated.

"You don't hate me?" It was Bucky's worst fear and biggest doubt. If the damage Hydra did was unrepairable.

"I can live hundreds of years and still be in love with you."

You squeezed his hand to make sure he knew how serious you were. "You are all I have ever known, Bucky."

With that, Bucky got up and moved so close to you. Your faces millimetres away from each other. His breath fanning over your face. His personal scent with dust and blood engulfing you. His blue eyes warming the inside of you.

"I got the best girl of them all." Bucky kissed you.

It was a soft, slow kiss. A sign of starting over. Of getting back.

You smiled in the kiss. Bucky used to say this all the time back then. You were known as Bucky's best girl. He used to call you that.

You broke away, feeling so much better now. Bucky rested his flesh hand on your cheek.

"I thought I lost you. I was so scared."

"You didn't. I'm right here."

"Though you will leave me before I say it back." You looked at him, puzzled.

"I love you, doll. You are the thing I live for. You are the purpose of my existence. I love you so much."

You didn't care about the pain as you moved up to meet his lips one more time. And he kissed you back right away.

"You owe me a ring and wedding, Barnes." You joked while you brought your other hand to hold into his suit to ground yourself.

He laughed before he moved away for a bit, and you already missed the closeness, and he wasn't far. You watched as he brought his dog tags out. You saw something bright with them but couldn't tell it was.

"Oh my god." You felt tears gather in your eyes as Bucky brought out the shiny thing closer.

It was your ring. Your engagement ring. The ring Bucky put in your finger many years ago. It was it. You thought it must have been lost that you didn't try to look for it, avoiding the disappointment.

But here it was. Bucky was able to find it. And he kept it with his dog tags. So close to his heart. Where you belonged.

Bucky got in one knee in his technical gear in a hospital room with you connected to IV.

"Doll, will you marry me?"

You laughed loudly that you felt pain shot again in your body. Bucky was next to you in an instant when your laugh turned to a cough.

"Third time is a charm." You said as you gave him your hand.

With another proposal in Wakanda before the snap, you managed to get Bucky Barnes on his knees three times for you.

He put the ring on your finger and pressed a kiss on your hand. "It will be. Mrs. Barnes." The name always had its sweet effect on you.

Bucky leaned in again to kiss you. And this kiss felt out of the world. Like a lifeboat before drowning. Water after the drought. Your rescue.

It was Bucky's promise of safety and security. Nothing and nobody was ever going to hurt you again. A promise of a safe home. Together.

You kept your forehead resting on his as your hand found its place once again on his suit.

"No to be rude, but you need a shower, babe." You could feel the dust on his face and the blood dried on his suit and skin.

"I will be okay. Probably going to fall asleep." You didn't give him a chance to protest.

"Plus, you know. I like my man nice and clean." You pecked his lips playfully.

The sound of the word "your man" falling from your lips referring to Bucky made his heart do little dances. Damn right he was your man.

"I won't take long." He kissed your hair before he got up and left to get himself presentable for his lady.

The world felt lighter, brighter, better. You felt happy. You were happy. You looked at the ring that held huge meaning for you. You weren't hurting. You were finally okay. You had your man back.

Who would have thought a near death incident would be the thing to give you back the man who always brought life to you.

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cyberstickaero · 2 months

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Did you know that when Apple Aqua UI came out Steve Jobs said they wanted users to have the urge to lick the screen?

“… it’s liquid, one of the design goals was when you saw it you wanted to lick it”

Source: “Apple Aqua: Exploring the Legacy of MacOS X User Interface” by Nick Babich (Medium.com)

#frutiger aero #frutiger eco #00s #frutiger metro #nostalgia #y2k #y2kcore #2007 #2000s core #apple inc #corp core #minimalism #y2k aesthetic #frutiger aqua

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castawavy · 4 days

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November Save MEGA summary (part 6)

before / next

we're almost at the end now and im sad but also happy that I left off on a good note and not when I was exchausted playing with a legacy

so to start, june and steve are still happy wed

elijah also aged up and it was his birthday and I have NO photos which im really mad about but here he is after I gave him a makeover

adelaide also kissed landon (GASP) but steve saw him leaving their house and decided to give her to talk:tm: 💀 which she wasnt happy about

despite the cringe from her father, she went on a date with landon anyways, and they are kind of a thing, but also kind of not a thing

elijah also set everything on fire trying to cook eggs because hes trying to get as much protein in (but he cant cook)

so now hes only allowed to cook whilst being supervised by june 🤦‍♂️

adelaide made friends with a girl name bridget, who is lily & victor feng's daughter, and she was so pretty but annoyingly adelaide wasnt even remotely interested

some father & son bonding time which doesnt really progress the plot but is cute anyways so here it is

and adelaide got a job at the country club, she's basically a server at the pool bar, but in winter she works catering inside

she also met her coworkers and they taught her how to sucessfully slack off during work hours

and she freaked out tyler cuz shes #quirky

that weekend she also went to a house party and snogged landon HJGSHJSGJHDFVJHD but also caught up with the bheeda sisters

steve and june also proved they were middle aged by starting a new hobby together (power walking) AND THEYRE SOOO CUTE 🥺💖

then they took erica out for lunch and the local seafood place that im really mad I lost because it was my best renovation of club calico YET

and then BIG HUGE NEWS, but the family got a dog named Moose

then I place a church in myt save because I had a bad feeling something ominous would happen to erica soon...

and I WAS RIGHT

so um, yeah, until next time I guess (bows) 😆

before / next

#ts4 #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #november save #nsgen1

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say-al0e · 2 years

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Hold On

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never part of the plan, especially when you figured you weren’t Eddie’s type. But a trip home to sub in for a Hellfire meeting brings you more than a victory.

Warnings: Some anxiety, some insecurity, idiots to lovers, friends to lovers, fear of unrequited love, mention of Eddie’s extracurricular activities (if you squint).

Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader

Word Count: 8.2k ((how the ever-loving fuck did we get here))

Stranger Things Taglist | Requests are open for Eddie & Steve!

The invitation to join Hellfire for a night was far from a surprise.

Despite the distance - you in Indianapolis, Eddie in Hawkins - he kept you up to date on the latest happenings of the club you once attended regularly. As far as you could tell, not much had changed beyond your absence and as much shit as he gave the freshmen - a gaggle of children, some of whom you recognized as the siblings of former classmates - he was fond of them. They exasperated him - “Henderson’s a pain in my ass. He’s so smug! Some humility wouldn’t hurt him. Little shit.” - but he was convinced that Hellfire would be in good hands with them.

A blessing, really, because someone needed to carry on the legacy when he graduated (finally).

In a handful of conversations, he’d made mention of a basketball player amongst their ranks - a freshman benchwarmer who had yet to set foot on the court but was thrilled to be part of the team just the same - so the revelation that said player would rather attend the championship instead of completing the oh-so-thrilling tale of the Cult of Vecna was to be expected. Even more expected was Eddie’s call, imploring you to skip your final class before spring break and return to Hawkins in his hour of need.

It was a request you’d heard before and, at least on the surface, was not out of the realm of possibility.

In the beginning, when you first made the transition from high school to college - when you left Hawkins and the little group of friends you loved so dearly for the very first time - trips home were frequent. At least once a month, you made the trek back to Hawkins, just to sit and spend a weekend with Eddie.

The trips home weren’t exactly productive - you attempted to help him study for classes he’d taken a handful of times, attempted to steer him toward better habits, but each study session dissolved into a smoke session nearly instantly. Still, they were necessary.

Those trips kept you sane in the first few months, made you feel as if your world hadn’t been entirely upended, and you reveled in the connection you were able to keep with the guy who’d been your best friend since freshman year. Eddie was a constant in your life, the one thing that remained steadfast when your whole world seemed to shift, and you appreciated his unwavering presence more than you let on.

However, somewhere along the line, between classes and your job at the record store, new friends and new hobbies - including a new Dungeons and Dragons group that paled in comparison to Hellfire, a fact you assured Eddie of often - there seemed to less and less time to make the trip back to Hawkins.

As the trips started to grow fewer and farther between, Eddie began to pick up some of the slack. He made the trip to Indianapolis once - crashed in your too small twin bed and got kicked out by an RA - but, more often than not, made up for the distance by calling nearly every night. The conversations varied - ranging from rants about school, updates on Hellfire and your newfound social life, gossip about who he’d sold to, and existential conversations that made little sense to anyone else - but lately, there always seemed to be a request for you to return home tacked at the end of each one.

And for the first time in months, you decided to grant it.

The drive itself was uneventful, as always - the same winding backroads and sleepy towns, the same mile markers and curiosities stuck in time - but there was a spark of anxiety that settled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to erupt into a raging brushfire.

For months, you’d told Eddie that you wanted to come home, it was just hard finding the time - a statement that was true enough. You truly wanted to come back, if only to see him, but that wasn’t exactly enough anymore. He knew that there were plenty of reasons you’d kept your distance from Hawkins; despite the attitude he so openly displayed, Eddie understood why the whispers and glares got under your skin.

What Eddie didn’t know was that the feelings distance - and subsequent trips home - dredged up brought about a realization that nearly sent you spiraling the last time you made the trip home.

As loathe as you were to admit it, somewhere along the line, you’d fallen in love with your best friend.

That realization - knowing that you’d become a walking cliche, falling in love with your best friend - hit you harder than you imagined it would. Though it made sense, it was difficult to come to terms with as Eddie had been the one constant in your life for years. He was your rock, the person who kept you going, and the fear that everything would change, regardless of whether he found out, weighed heavier on your chest the closer you drew to Hawkins.

A million questions plagued you as you navigated the backroads on autopilot; would the distance help temper your feelings or would you continue to fall, regardless of how far apart you remained? Would going out with someone else help or would it only end in comparing your date to Eddie? Would you be able to maintain your composure in his presence now, or would you fall apart?

Most importantly, would you be able to get over him and keep him in your life without growing to resent him? As desperately as you hoped for a happy ending, you knew that there wouldn’t be one.

For all of the similarities that you shared - all the bands you both loved, all the movies you agreed were the best, all the political and social beliefs you shared - and all of the nights you spent together, you were not Eddie Munson’s type.

For as long as you’d known him, Eddie had a thing for girls he swore he’d never have a snowball’s chance in hell with. He gravitated toward pretty girls in pastel colors with soft smiles and hearts of gold and, for the most part, you swore that it had never really bothered you. There was a moment in time when you’d suffered through crushing on Steve Harrington, a boy who’d never give you the time of day; how Eddie chose to break his own heart was up to him, you were simply there to watch.

Now, upon making the startling realization that you were in love with him, you realized that it had bothered you for years. The pang of annoyance that simmered in the pit of your stomach when he stared a little too long at Chrissy Cunningham and the way the smiles he shot at the girls who wandered around Starcourt soured your mood suddenly made far too much sense and you didn’t know if you could face him.

Unfortunately, turning around and returning to Indianapolis seemed to be out of the question as you turned onto the gravel road leading into the Hawkins High parking lot. You knew that you would have to face him sooner rather than later - he’d already threatened to drive to Indianapolis and bring you back, kicking and screaming; a threat you weren’t entirely convinced was empty - so you pulled into the parking spot right beside his van and took a moment to compose yourself.

With a few deep breaths - and one final listen to Lita Ford’s You Gotta Let Go - you cut the engine and crossed the parking lot to your fate.

As expected, the halls Hawkins High were fairly empty and largely unchanged. The vast majority of town lingered in the gym, crowded the sidewalk just outside, and you ruminated on how strange it felt to be back after swearing you’d never step foot inside again. The halls made you uneasy, always looking over your shoulder for someone out to make your life miserable, and you knew that you wouldn’t even consider this for anyone other than Eddie.

Anxiety - both from being back at Hawkins High and from seeing Eddie for the first time after your realization - sank to the pit of your stomach like a stone. It weighed you down, had you stepping across the tile almost hesitantly, and you struggled to force yourself into resignation.

This would be no different than any previous trip home; Eddie would never be able to tell how you felt if you kept your composure, there would be no change in your relationship, and you would survive spring break with only a little difficulty.

It was possible. You just had to keep telling yourself that you could pretend, just for a week.

The closer you drew to the theater room - the one place on school grounds you’d all been granted refuge - the louder the voices became and the easier it seemed to compartmentalize your feelings. The room was a cacophony of noise, a clusterfuck of shouting that you made no effort to decipher, and you were grateful for its distraction. And for a brief moment, it reminded you of the few good memories you held of high school.

This, the shouting and the laughter and the unabashed enjoyment of something so many others saw so negatively, was what encouraged you to keep going. Having the connection to Hellfire, to Eddie, made high school a little more bearable and if one night struggling to conceal your feelings was all it took to give a few freshmen the same place to belong you’d had, you decided it was worth it.

After taking a few deep breaths, desperate to calm your racing heart, you rounded the corner and approached the door. From the hallway, you could tell that the heavy door was cracked enough to allow newcomers to enter easily, and felt a real smile tug at the corner of your mouth as you approached.

Just inside the room, Eddie sat on his throne - expression as impassive as he could muster, with the ghost of a frown curling his lips - while two of the freshmen explained their difficulty in finding a substitute for their friend. There was a glimmer of annoyance simmering just beneath the surface - a flash of betrayal that someone he’d allowed in would choose basketball over Hellfire - but you could see the hint of nervous tension in his shoulders.

When you spoke to him, you promised that you would try to make it in time, not that you would. Realistically, you knew that you would’ve broken every traffic law necessary to make it back in time to save the day, but keeping your promise vague gave you a little room to breathe.

To keep from staring, from cataloguing the little changes he’d made in your absence, and allowing yourself to overthink the situation, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. When you opened them, you met Eddie’s eyes instantly.

The look of relief that flashed across Eddie’s face upon making eye contact lingered so briefly you almost wondered if you imagined it. Still, it managed to make your heart skip a beat as he straightened on his throne.

Though you were desperate to look away - you could feel your cheeks burn and palms begin to sweat - Eddie maintained eye contact as the freshmen continued to speak. His eyes glittered in the dim orange glow of the room and you could see the ghost of a smile he struggled to conceal. As discreetly as he could, he held up a hand to keep you from entering the room before promptly dropping it to the table with a heavy thud.

Eddie’s dramatics often overwhelmed you - he kept you out of them, shielded you from view any time he got too loud and riled up the wrong people - but this time, they set you at ease. It felt normal, something you’d grown to expect from him. It distracted you from your feelings, reminded you of what you were back in Hawkins for, and you smiled as you leaned against the doorframe to watch as all eyes snapped to him.

“Fear not, freshmen,” Eddie interrupted, voice carrying through the room and instantly quieting their nervous chatter. As they shared wide-eyed glances, you stifled a giggle at the lilt to Eddie’s voice - a tone that only appeared as he reveled in being the center of attention - and waited as he stood. “Though you made a valiant effort, I’m sure, I have found a replacement far better than any you could’ve scrounged up in the halls of Hawkins High. M’lady!”

With a flourish, Eddie gestured to the door and, on his cue, you threw it open with a satisfying thud. As the sound echoed through the room, every head snapped in your direction. You allowed them a moment to stare before raising a brow at the group. “Miss me?”

As much as you wanted to glance at Eddie, to really look at him after so long apart, you scanned the other faces occupying the room first. The freshmen looked awed - though you knew Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington, you weren’t exactly friends so there was little chance the kids had seen you before - while the other members of the club quickly cycled from confusion to recognition to excitement.

The Hellfire Club shirt you’d stashed at the back of your closet looked a little different than theirs - yours was faded from so many washes, stained at the bottom from eyeliner, and had a little rip beneath the left arm - but that mattered so little when the energy in the room was so palpable. Everyone seemed thrilled to have you, eager to welcome you into the fray, and you could see Eddie’s bright grin out of the corner of your eye as he waited for you to close the door behind you.

“Gentlemen,” he began, speaking to the freshmen, “meet Ama. She’s a level fifteen, chaotic good Aasimar. Cooler than any of you dweebs ever thought about being. And she’s here to help you try to survive Vecna.”

As they so often tended to, Eddie’s eyes remained on you throughout his introduction. His grin grew brighter the deeper into the room you stepped and you struggled to keep your breathing even as you spared the freshmen a glance. With a roll of your eyes, betrayed by your laughter, you offered them your real name. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” At your admission, the freshmen glanced at Eddie - hopeful, surprised that he’d spoken about them - only to scowl when you instructed, “Prove Eddie wrong.”

Compartmentalizing your feelings seemed almost too easy - falling into the role of your character, one you’d played throughout high school, helped - but the freshmen were helpful in distracting you. Almost immediately, they tugged you off to the side of the room with wide eyes and eager smiles to fill you in - something they quickly realized was unnecessary as Eddie had already taken care of that - before commencing strategizing.

There was little chance it would be anything less than thrilling - one of the things about Eddie that drew you in was his ability to tell stories and craft wonderful worlds - and any trepidation you had about sharing a space with him was quickly shoved to the back of your mind as the club members rallied around you.

For nearly two hours, you managed to forget about every pang of anxiety you’d felt when speaking with Eddie - including the near meltdown you’d had on the drive home - and enjoyed the game.

Throughout the session, you did your best to avoid glancing at Eddie. As he spoke, you took great care to scribble down notes and alter your course of action - anything that would help you remain focused on the task, rather than his voice - but the buffer of other people and a task disappeared as the campaign ended with a win.

Mike and Dustin dispersed first - the Wheeler boy had a curfew and a flight to catch, Henderson was catching a ride with Steve Harrington and was amped to share the news of his victory - and were quickly followed by the remaining members of Hellfire.

It was only then that the room began to feel stifling.

The room felt too small, too quiet, all of a sudden and the high of winning faded almost instantly as Eddie spared you a glance out of the corner of his eye. For as much shit as you gave him over the years, he was a phenomenal friend and could read you better than anyone. There was little question that he’d noticed the tension in your shoulders, the distance you kept, the way you avoided his eyes.

Knowing Eddie, it was only a matter of time before he asked what was bothering you.

Eddie was always the one to break the silence, to babble about nothing at all in an effort to avoid the quiet, but you knew that his first thought would be to question your wellbeing. That was the last thing you wanted - especially as he could see through your lies easily - so you spoke before he could. “So,” you began, voice carrying in the silence, “you were really banking on me showing, huh?”

As he dropped his dice back into the pouch, he glanced at you over his shoulder with a laugh. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he declared with a grin that had your heart hammering in your ribcage. “I knew you’d be here, even if it was just to see if I was lying about the freshmen being insufferable.”

The faith that he had in you - in the belief that you would show when he needed you, regardless of how little you’d been home recently - weighed heavily on your chest. There was something so light about his belief, something so pure, that it ignited a flame of guilt within you. A surge of disappoint - upset that you had to fall in love with him, that you couldn’t leave well enough alone and be content with just his unwavering friendship - turned your stomach and nearly pulled a sigh from deep within. However, when Eddie turned to face you fully, you swallowed your upset and covered it with a thoughtful frown.

“Henderson’s kind of a know-it-all.” The taunt was playful, a repetition of something he’d said to you months ago, but you knew that it would throw him off as you headed for the exit. “Maybe it’s just his tone.”

Eddie made a noise of agreement and nodded eagerly as he patted his pockets in search of his cigarettes. “It’s totally his tone,” he agreed easily. “Little shit.” A beat of silence passed as he continued his search before he made a triumphant noise upon finding them. “I’m proud of them for that campaign, though. I didn’t think they’d be able to rally but they pulled through.” As you approached the exit, he plucked a cigarette from the pack and spared you a sideways glance. “They couldn’t have done it without you, though. You kicked ass, princess.”

The term of endearment made your cheeks burn, as did his praise. Neither were new - Eddie was your biggest fan, just as you were his - but both hit you a little harder now. They made you feel weightless, on top of the world, and you struggled to keep your composure as the words rang in your ears. You laughed quietly, almost bashful - something you’d never been in his presence - and shook your head as you shoved the exit door open.

“I don’t know,” you began, grinning as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “They’re… tenacious.” Eddie made a face at your choice of words, pulled an exaggerated frown chosen to make you smile, and you rolled your eyes as he fumbled with his lighter. “They’re determined,” you supplied, giggling when he scoffed - when he mumbled, “You could’ve just said that,” - and rolled his eyes. “I think you were right, though. Hellfire’s in good hands with the kids.”

As you turned to face him, Eddie opened his mouth to reply - the words caught on the tip of his tongue - but before he could crow delightedly at your acknowledgement that he was right, he paused. He stood, hand still lifted to his mouth with a cigarette balanced between two fingers, and followed something in the distance.

Though Eddie got distracted often, you were curious what could interrupt his triumph and turned to follow his line of sight. There was a crowd of people leaving the gym, all wearing the garish colors of your high school and cheering - Hawkins won the championship, evidently - but, to your annoyance, it was Chrissy Cunningham who’d caught his eye.

It wasn’t her fault - she was nice, had actually spoken to you a handful of times when you’d both been stuck in the library at the same time - but in that moment, you felt a sharp pang of dislike curdle the bit of joy you’d felt at his praise.

A flare of resentment overshadowed your feelings for Eddie - bitterness that, once again, he was choosing someone else, someone so different, over you - and simmered low in your stomach. It was another reminder of what you knew to be true, another reminder that Eddie wasn’t interested, and served as a reality check that quickly smothered the blossoming flash of hope you’d felt upon seeing him grin at you.

All too suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to return home, turn on a record your parents hated, and hide in bed until it was safe enough to return to Indianapolis. So, you masked your huff of annoyance with a yawn and shoved your hand into your bag in search of your keys.

“I’m sticking around Hawkins for a few days.” The lie slipped past your lips easily, meant to reassure Eddie that you were alright without even meaning to, but it still reclaimed his attention. “I’ll see you before I head back.”

Eddie frowned, eyes wide and confused as he followed you across the parking lot to your car. “What?” A flash of hurt crossed his face quickly, darkened the glimmer of excitement that still lingered in his eyes, and you could hear the disappointment in his voice. “You’re not coming over?”

The thought of spending the night with him, the thought of spending the rest of your break with him - either forgetting your feelings entirely, pretending they didn’t exist and returning to the way things used to be, or living a fantasy in which he returned your feelings just as he did in your sweetest of dreams - was beyond tempting.

Regardless of your newly discovered feelings, you’d genuinely missed spending time with Eddie. He understood you in a way that no one else seemed to, made you laugh and made you feel seen. There was so much about your friendship with him that you missed but when the ache in your chest felt so unbearable, you knew that finding yourself alone with him was a bad idea.

“I’m tired, Eds. It was a long drive.” You felt guilty giving him such a flimsy excuse - you’d spent long nights together driving home, eager to catch up on one another’s lives and spend as much time together as possible - but it felt like the only option. You only hoped it sounded convincing enough as you offered him a weak smile and avoided his eyes. “I’m gonna head home and crash, I think.”

As he lit his cigarette, his frown deepened. “Crash at my place.” It was the most logical solution he could offer, one that you’d taken him up on without question a thousand times before, but sharing a bed with him no longer felt like something you could handle. It was begging for trouble but before you could refuse, Eddie continued. “I’ll drive, bring you back to get your car tomorrow. My uncle’s working nights so it’ll just be us. We can watch The Evil Dead or Nightmare. You always fall asleep during movies, anyway.” He paused to take a drag off his cigarette, used it as a moment to think of a way to entice you into spending time with him, before he brightened. “Oh, we can watch Sleepaway Camp! You left the tape at my place last time.”

You folded your arms over your chest, wary of the cool night air, and shook your head fondly. “First off, I don’t always fall asleep during movies. And second, you hate Sleepaway Camp, Eds. You called it the worst movie you’ve ever seen.” The reminder was accompanied by a quiet laugh, softer than what you knew he expected, but you hoped he would chalk it up to your exhaustion rather than see it as a symptom of something greater.

“Yeah.” He shrugged off his jacket, leather crinkling in the dark, before stepping closer to wrap it around your shoulders. “But you love it. So, I’ll suffer through. Until you fall asleep, anyway.” When you softened - both at the gesture and his admission - Eddie grinned. “C’mon,” he encouraged.

Though it was difficult to breathe, standing so close to Eddie and being wrapped in his jacket, you huffed your most affected sigh and raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

Eddie grinned, bright and sunny as he realized he’d won, and shook his head. “Fuck no.” He stepped back, opened the passenger door of his van, and bowed. “M’lady.”

Despite every nerve ending shouting that you were making a terrible decision, you climbed into the van and settled into the seat that, at one point, had been yours. As Eddie rounded the van to climb into the driver’s seat, you hugged his jacket tighter to your body and inhaled deeply. It smelled of leather and smoke - a heady mixture of cigarettes and weed - but it was a scent you’d once associated with home. Only now, it made the ache in your chest nearly unbearable.

It killed him, you were certain of it, but Eddie remained quiet as he drove through the deserted streets of Hawkins slower than he ever had before. The radio was barely audible and, though he opened his mouth a handful of times, he didn’t speak a word as you sat with your head pressed to the cool glass of the window, watching as the night passed you by.

From the corner of your eye, you could see him tapping at the steering wheel, mindlessly following the beat of the Metallica song you knew he loved. Every few seconds, he spared you a glance - deep brown eyes wide and cautious, but curious. There was little hope he would make it through the night without asking what was wrong, without asking what he could do to fix the problem, and you had to swallow a sigh as you closed your eyes.

The air in the van was thick, tense, but for the first time in years, neither of you really knew what to say to remedy the situation.

It would be easy enough to tell him that you bombed an important exam or that your boss was being a dick. You could tell him that your friends at school were being weird or that there was a guy you liked who didn’t like you back - not a lie, though it might make him press for details.

But Eddie was not someone you lied to.

No matter how badly you screwed up, no matter how awful you felt about a choice you’d made, you never lied to Eddie about it. He’d seen you at your worst, remained by your side through the worst, but this was different. This would change the entire dynamic of your relationship, you knew that, and you wondered if it would be worth it to lie. Just this once.

As Eddie pulled into the trailer park, you moved on autopilot. His uncle’s home was something of a second home to you, a place you spent nearly as much time as your own home at one point, and it looked exactly as you remembered it. The space was small, lived-in, but comfortable, and, to your surprise, you felt more at ease than you had in weeks as you crossed the threshold.

Despite Eddie’s overwhelming presence - the scent of him embedded in the jacket, the waft of his shampoo as he brushed past you - surrounding you, your heart began to calm to a steadier beat as you shrugged off his jacket.

“Sorry about the mess,” he mumbled, as if he’d suddenly become aware of the state of the trailer. “Maid took the week off.”

It was a weak joke, told to distract you - only uttered because of the tension that surrounded you both - and you scoffed as you kicked off your shoes. “I’ve seen it look worse in here, Eds,” you reminded him, voice soft in the silence as you padded over to the couch. “Don’t worry about it. As long as you’ve got a blanket for me, I’m fine.”

Eddie nodded, smile crooked as he took a moment to revel in the sight of you perched on the couch - back in the spot you’d missed for months - before he set off in search of everything you needed.

Months had passed since you’d last seen Eddie in person. There were polaroids of him - the pair of you together, candids of him you’d taken at band practice and on nights he lounged in your bedroom, a handful of photos of Hellfire as a whole - tacked to the cork board hanging above your desk but seeing him in the flesh was different.

The butterflies you felt when you caught sight of a photo of him paled in comparison to the butterflies swarming as you watched him shuffle about the living room in search of a blanket and the VHS. Though you’d always found him attractive, seeing him now - really looking at him for the first time since realizing your feelings - you were taken aback by just how beautiful he was.

His hair had gotten a little longer, a little messier - he tended to cut it himself, often on a whim, locked away in the bathroom with only a vague sense of what he was doing - but, despite his less than perfect haircare routine, you distinctly remembered how soft it felt between your fingers on the few occasions he’d fallen sleep with his head on your lap.

The line of his jaw was sharper than it had been, a little more defined, and the smooth expanse of his throat drew your eyes as he made a quiet noise of triumph upon finding the tape. His smile looked a little easier and his eyes gleamed a little brighter as he scurried around the living room - though you weren’t sure if that happened while you were gone or because you were back.

As he bent to pop the tape into the VCR, you caught sight of a new splotch of ink just above his hipbone. Before you could stop yourself, you asked, “When’d you get that tattoo?”

Eddie grinned, bright and teasing, as he crossed the living room and lifted the hem of his Hellfire shirt to give you a better look. It was not the best tattoo you’d ever seen - though, if you were honest, none of Eddie’s tattoos were of the best quality - but that didn’t really matter as your eyes traced the line of his hip, roved the dark trail leading beneath the band of his boxers, instead.

“A few months ago,” he answered, voice bright - unaffected, as if you hadn’t just been ogling him, imagining what he might sound like if you were to press your lips to that exact spot. “Rick’s got a friend, did it for practically nothing.”

Unable to help yourself, you snorted at his answer and shook your head to clear the image of him lying beneath you. “For a shitty stick and poke, it looks pretty good.” Eddie was used to your teasing, heard the same taunt each time he showed you new ink, and rolled his eyes as he fell onto the couch beside you. When he pouted - an exaggerated expression, accompanied by a glance at you from beneath his lashes - you shook your head. “‘M serious, Eds. I like it.”

He brightened, grin replacing the pout, and nodded. He paused for a moment, eyes searching your face, before he laughed. “I’m not the only one making changes. That’s new.” Your breath caught in your throat as he reached out to gingerly cup your chin and tilt your head to get a better look at the septum piercing you’d hidden for most of the night. “I like it.”

It was difficult to focus with Eddie so close, with his bright eyes trained on you, and you felt both immense relief and deep sorrow when he released you. You hoped that he couldn’t hear the tremor in your breath as you inhaled deeply. “I didn’t think you’d notice.” The admission was quiet, a near whisper, as you shifted to lift your legs beneath you and glance away from him, but he heard you clearly.

Eddie scoffed, as if he couldn’t believe you truly thought that. “Of course I did.” His refutation was a huff, not quite offended but verging on it, as he pressed play and spared you a glance. “I notice everything about you, princess,” he admitted as he reached out to grab your ankle and stretch your legs across his lap.

As difficult as it was to admit it, he was right. Eddie was always the first to notice any changes you made. He’d noticed something was wrong the moment you stepped foot into the theater room for Hellfire, had noticed you pulling away over the course of a few months, noticed that you weren’t the best friend he remembered. And, for a brief moment, you felt a pang of guilt lodge itself into your chest.

He always jumped to the worst conclusions first - he would likely think your mood was the result of something he’d done, that you were tired of him or eager to get away from him - and you nearly broke down and spilled your secrets right then and there. However, before you could, Eddie reached out to tug at a lock of your hair.

“I like the haircut, by the way. One of your friends do it?” When you nodded, he shook his head fondly. With an exaggerated sigh, he reached for the blanket and spread it across your laps. “Y’know, your parents thought I was a bad influence.” They’d hated him at first, swore he was the reason you started listening to metal and wearing black, but eventually grew fond of him, the more time he spent at your house. “Your new friends, though? They’re the real bad influences. Coming home with piercings and shit. Can’t wait to hear what your parents have to say about it.”

“You might never hear from me again if they manage to find out,” you warned, scoffing as you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

Eddie grinned at the laughter he managed to pull from you, triumphant in a way that made you want to laugh - though, you knew he only felt so accomplished because you’d spent hours distancing yourself - and sighed contentedly as he settled back against the cushions. The moment felt normal, like something that you could handle, and you would’ve been fine, pretending that things were normal - if only a little uncomfortable with the proximity - had he not moved.

As the movie began to play, Eddie placed a warm hand on your calf. His calloused fingers traced your skin lightly, absentmindedly drawing nonsensical patterns, as he turned his full focus to the television. You knew that he meant nothing by it - he’d done it a thousand times before, casually pressed himself closer - it overwhelmed you. The weight of his touch, the heat of his hand, the cold sting of his rings, the care he took to move slowly in case you started to doze off; it all melded into a sensation that had your heart hammering against your ribcage and your lungs burning as you struggled to catch your breath.

In the past, it would’ve taken only moments for you to melt into the couch. Eddie’s soft touch, the weight of the old blanket stretched across your laps, the quiet hum of the television; it would’ve all lulled you into a peaceful sleep almost instantly. The conditions were ideal - something about Eddie’s place always helped you rest a little easier and, recently, you began to wonder if it was Eddie himself - but the turmoil raging in your brain kept you from settling, despite the exhaustion weighing heavily over you.

Instead, you sat, half-tucked into the corner, as still as possible - body stiff, unyielding to Eddie’s gentle touch - and stared at the television without truly seeing. Though the movie was one of your favorites, little about it managed to catch your eye as you focused on keeping your breathing even and your limbs from trembling beneath Eddie’s touch.

Beside you, Eddie did his best to remain still.

Most nights, he fidgeted throughout the movie - tapped his foot or twirled his rings or shifted until you finally shoved him down and wrapped your arms around him - but the only sign of life you noticed was his careful fingers, brushing your overheated skin.

Try as you might, the movie did little to hold your attention. There were moments you loved, moments that typically drew raucous laughter, that went unnoticed and you only laughed quietly - a reflex more than real amusement - at your favorite line when Eddie glanced at you.

At the noise, Eddie sighed and turned to face you. He gently squeezed your calf, hand searing against your skin, and shook his head fondly. “I can’t believe you actually like this movie, princess,” he teased, soft smile evident even in the dark of the living room. The light from the television bounced off his skin, cast soft shadows across his face, and made you ache to reach out and trace the slope of his noise. “I thought you had good taste.”

Any other time, you would’ve tossed a pillow at him and ardently fought back. This time, you simply rolled your eyes and shrugged. “You’ve been wrong before, Eds.” The tease was half-hearted, lobbed at him on instinct, and Eddie frowned as he reached for the remote.

“Alright,” he sighed, voice quiet as he squeezed your calf once more. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Before the question fully settled, you shook your head. “Nothing’s bothering me,” you attempted to assure him, though your voice shook as you pulled your legs away and tucked them to your chest. You offered him the most convincing smile you could muster - one that felt fake, one you knew he would see through. “I’m fine.”

Eddie scoffed. “C’mon, princess. I’ve known you for ages,” he reminded you as he leaned over to turn on the lamp. “Something’s up and I can tell. I just want to help.” He paused, took a moment to search your face, and frowned as he shifted in his seat. “Is it… Did I do something?”

Instantly, you shook your head. This was the reaction you’d been afraid of - worried that Eddie would read your discomfort as a result of something he’d done, rather than something you felt - and you tried your best to convince him otherwise. “No,” your assertion was strong, heavy, but Eddie looked less than convinced. “It’s not… it’s nothing you’ve done. I promise. It’s just been a weird brain day.”

He frowned at this and turned to face you. Soft brown eyes searched your face in search of an answer to his question. “Well, talk me through it,” he urged, shrugging as if that was the most logical suggestion. “We’ll make sense of whatever’s happening. I can… I don’t know, tell you your brain’s wrong?”

Though you wanted to smile at his offer, you knew that there would be no comfort in the conversation so you shook your head. “I can’t. It’s just… It’s not like that, okay? I just have to deal with it alone. It’s not a big deal, I promise. I’ll be fine.”

“I can help,” Eddie reminded you, almost desperately. “I promise, I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I get bad brain days, you know I do. Just talk to me.” He paused for a moment, allowed his words to linger in the air, before he tilted his head to study you intently. “Is it work? School? Homesickness? Is someone being a dick to you? D’you fail that chemistry exam?”

“Eddie. Drop it. Please.” Your voice shook as you begged him to drop the subject but you knew Eddie. There was little he wouldn’t do to help you - he’d been your voice of reason a thousand times before, had been your sounding board, helped. You on the worst mental health days - but his constant questioning was beginning to drive you insane.

Tears stung at the backs of your eyes, threatened to spill over your lashes, and Eddie frowned as he shifted closer. “I just want to help, princess,” he breathed, voice dropping to a near whisper. “Please, let me help. I can grab my stash, if you want. If that’ll make you feel better.”

“Eddie, stop! You can’t help me because you’re the problem.”

The declaration escaped in a desperate screech, louder than you intended and far sharper. Eddie recoiled at your words, eyes wide and lips parted in a sort of hurt that made your heart ache, and you felt the tears begin to spill over your lashes as you shook your head. “Fuck, Eds, I’m sorry. I didn’t-“

“I… I thought you said I didn’t do anything.” He swallowed thickly, uncertain, and shook his head as he lifted his eyes to yours once more. “What is it? Whatever I did, I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose, right?”

You nodded immediately, though you kept your distance as Eddie reached out for you. “It’s not… you didn’t do anything,” you repeated, voice going quiet as you steeled yourself. There was only one way out of the conversation and, though you knew it was a declaration you couldn’t come back from, you felt it was better to hurt yourself than continue to hurt him. “I just… fuck! I’m in love with you, alright?”

The moment the words spilled into the silence of the living room, you pushed yourself up off the couch and began to pace. “I’m in love with you,” you repeated, voice quiet. “I never really thought about it, you know? We were just… us. But the last time I came home, I really looked at you for the first time and it just kind of hit me. I know that I’m not you’re type and that this fucks everything up. It’s… it’s stupid, I know, so just… I don’t know. Take me to go get my car or let me sleep out here and I’ll walk back in the morning. Or something, I guess. Whatever.”

Eddie sat, stunned silent, on the couch. You could feel his eyes tracking your every step but before you could make a beeline for the door, he whispered, “You’re in love with me?”

You gave a weak laugh as you nodded. “Yeah,” you mumbled, voice thick with tears as you wrapped your arms around yourself and continued pacing the length of the living room. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“What?” The confusion in his tone nearly stopped you in your tracks. He sounded genuine, as if he couldn’t fathom why you would be apologizing to him, as he asked, “Why are you sorry?”

To you, the answer was obvious. “Because, we had such a good thing going, just being friends. It was perfect. Me falling in love with you fucks that up. I know that you’re not into me, that I’m not your type, and I really want to be friends with you but it’s so fucking hard looking at you when all I can think about is how head over heels I am.”

“Who said you weren’t my type?” Eddie raised an eyebrow as he stood from the couch and moved to stand in your immediate path. He reached out, placed his hands on your biceps, and waited for you to glance up at him. “And who said that I’m not into you?”

It was too difficult to look him in the eye, especially when your heart felt as if it might leap out of your throat, so you shook your head and turned your eyes to your feet. “I know what you’re into, Eds, and it’s not me. It’s girls like Chrissy. And that’s fine. You like what you like. You don’t have to… you don’t have to pretend, okay? Just,” you took a deep breath, eager to calm yourself, and shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s hand lifted to your chin. He gingerly tilted your head with two fingers and met your eyes with glassy ones of his own. “Sweetheart,” he cooed, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I’ve been in love with you since junior year.”

It was your turn to blink owlishly at him. Eddie laughed quietly as you shook your head. “What? No. I… what?”

He smiled, a goofy grin, and nodded. “You came back from summer break with no braces and that ‘take-no-shit’ attitude and I would’ve done anything you asked me to do. Fuck, I worshiped the ground you walked on,” he admitted, not ashamed in the least as he met your eyes. “But you went goofy over that asshole and I assumed I wasn’t your type. I figured you might want someone who has a chance of getting out of here someday. Looks like we were both wrong, huh?”

“Eddie…” Every thought you’d been spiraling over, every possible scenario you’d prepared yourself for, vanished as you searched his face for any hint of deception. There was a light in his eyes, a brightness that had been missing, and a lopsided grin that reassured you - this was no joke. “How’d you survive? I just realized and I’ve been going insane.”

His easy laughter filled your ears, eased the knot in your stomach, and calmed you as he brushed his thumb across your cheekbone. “Oh, I’ve been insane,” he declared, grinning as he took a tentative step closer. “That’s part of my charm.” He winked, exaggerated and over the top, and grinned when it pulled a soft giggle from you.

“Definitely part of the reason I fell in love with you.” Allowing the words to spill so easily, to pull them into a conversation, eased the weight that had nearly crushed you. It made your heart soar and breathing just a little easier when Eddie’s smile brightened. "The hair totally helped, though.”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed, nodding sagely. “I get it. I totally would’t date me without the hair.”

“You’re ridiculous, Munson,” you teased, grinning when he hid behind a lock of his hair. “Completely and utterly, you know that, right?”

He shrugged, completely unaffected, and wagged his eyebrows. “And I’m totally in love with you. You know that, right?”

“I’m starting to get it. Might need you to repeat it a few more times,” you suggested as you struggled to conceal your grin. “Just to really drive the point home, you know?”

Eddie nodded, looked as if it was the most reasonable request you’d ever made, and tilted his head. “What’s the tallest building in Hawkins?”

A surprised laugh escaped as you searched his face for any clue as to why he was asking. “I have no clue. Does it matter?”

“Kinda,” he argued as he struggled to keep from laughing. “If I want to shout it from the rooftops, I gotta figure out the best place to start. Thought about the cafeteria but someone actually graduated so… Rooftop it is.”

“Wow. You really are insane. Geez,” you laughed as you met his eyes, “too late to take that confession back?”

“Totally,” Eddie asserted, grinning when he used the hand on your cheek to tip your head. “I love you, you love me. No take-backs in love, princess. You’re stuck with me now.”

The smile you’d been struggling to conceal was near blinding, stretched and burned as you beamed at him, but you decided that you could live with it when Eddie’s answering grin made your heart skip a beat. “I think I can live with that.”

For the first time, Eddie had nothing to say. Instead, he leaned in to press his lips to yours in a searing kiss - another cliche, one that saw fireworks popping behind your eyes and butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. Though this was not where you imagined your night going, who were you to question the way the universe worked?

Falling in love with Eddie was not something you imagined but, now, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

____________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Challenging myself to write less than 5k for the next fic I write (spoiler; I will probably fail). Anyway. I’m all packed for my trip and am gonna download some Stranger Things episodes to watch on the flight so. Whee.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #v's fics

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 26 days

Text

Sugar Mama Chapter 1

And another one! New story involving #sugarbabybucky Warnings: eventual smut, sexual assault (not from Bucky)

Bucky was exhausted. He had been working three jobs for four years now just trying to get by, and this was his sixth sixteen hour day in a row. Student loans and credit card debt was eating him out of house and home, in the most literal sense. Even living in a rent controlled building wasn’t helping with the bills piling up. He had gone to college for architecture and interior design, which he was doing now working as an assistant during normal working hours for one of the many local interior designers. Then he would go straight to his second job as a waiter in a high end restaurant in downtown Manhattan, then at the end of the night go home and do a few more hours of online tutoring. He had ended his 20s and entered his 30s feeling like an old man, with no end in sight of ever getting a break or being able to break even with his debt. Forget about dating or having a family someday. That all seemed like a ridiculous pipe dream now.

“Heeeeyyyy Buckaroo?” Steve sidled up to him as he was cleaning off wine glasses.

“No,” Bucky cut him off.

“But it’s just–”

“Steve, it’s Friday night, I’d really like to go home and get in bed at a normal time tonight,” Bucky interrupted him, the dark circles under his eyes that he tried to ignore looking more prominent by the day.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. But Peggy has been hounding me about going to that new burlesque club that just opened and I told her I was working but we haven’t had a date night in a long time–”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m not sharing tips,” Bucky sighed, rubbing his face as he pulled a 5 Hour Energy out of his apron pocket and quickly downed it like a shot.

“Those are bad for you, Buck,” Steve gave his friend a worried look.

“Well maybe a heart attack in my 30s will put me out of my misery,” Bucky half-joked. Steve was silent. Bucky turned to him and scoffed. “It’s a joke. Go, I’ll take the closing shift. Say hi to Peg for me.”

“I’ll take your next closing, I promise. Thanks punk,” Steve gave him a quick hug.

“Yeah whatever, jerk,” Bucky laughed. As Steve went to the back to change, Bucky went to the host stand and figured out who was his next table.

“Whatcha got for me, witchy woman?” he leaned against the stand. Wanda gave him a quick glance.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” she sighed, looking back down at the list.

“It’s not my fault you got witch eyes. And I never said that was a bad thing,” Bucky said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah whatever,” she rolled her amber eyes. “You’re gonna love this one. A Wall Street investment heiress, with some famous friends,” she gave him an unimpressed look.

“An heiress, huh? Well maybe she’ll be my next sugar mama,” he joked, giving her a wink as he adjusted his apron.

“You wouldn’t know how to be a sugar baby even if you tried,” she sassed back at him. “Table 42. She’s all yours.”

“Thanks babes,” he sing-songed at her before heading towards his section. As he approached table 42 he tried to see who the heiress was, but she was unfortunately facing away from him. Her friends, though, he easily recognized from some of the most recent films that had just hit theaters: Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov. Jackpot, he thought with a wry smile.

“Good evening, folks, welcome to Marea. My name is Bucky and I’ll be your server tonight. Could I get you started with some drinks? Or a review of our wine list?” He gave them all a friendly smile as he looked each of them in the eye at least once. The actors gave him quick smiles and glances before ordering generic wines and waters, then the heiress caught his eye. He almost did a double take once he realized who she was. Y/N Y/L/N, the daughter of Wall Street Tycoon Gerald Y/L/N. She was set for life and beyond. Her father was the investment king, knowing just when to buy in or sell out. She had taken on his legacy by doing the same but instead of investing in huge corporations she was investing in smaller businesses and projects, being the key investor until the business could truly thrive, giving her investment a return and getting a chance to grow in an area like New York City. She was the reason the new burlesque club opened that Steve was going to with Peggy. Not only was she wealthy, she was beautiful. Short in stature and plus size, she was an anomaly surrounded by her tall and slim friends, but she embraced her size and used it as a way to both literally and figuratively take up space in the industry and bring attention to the issues of body image, fatphobia, and investing in plus size companies and designers who she exclusively worked with for clothing her for events.

Bucky tried not to ogle and quickly gave her his best flirtatious smile. “And for you?” he asked her.

Y/N gave him an appreciative smile and her bright Y/C/E eyes seemed to really look at him rather than a passing glance like her friends. “I’d like to hear the wine menu, please.”

“Wonderful, we have a…” As he listed off the wines Y/N watched him intently, her eyes searching his face. He felt like he was the one being ogled and yet he persevered, trying not to sound nervous while serving some of the most influential and popular people in the world.

“It all sounds delicious, but I’m a creature of habit, so I think I’ll stick with my favorite Rose, the Billecart-Salmon. And I’ll also have water on the side.”

“Excellent choice, ma’am. Give me a moment and I’ll get those drinks out to you all,” he glanced at them all again before slipping away to the bar for the drinks.

Y/N watched him leave, a small smile on her face, before turning back to her friends. They eyed her ruefully with mischievous smiles. “What?” she asked.

“He’s cute,” Natasha commented, one eyebrow raised at her.

“Very cute. One could even say hot,” Clint added, watching Bucky walk back to the bar. “He’s got a great ass. Too bad he’s working here. He’d look divine in a Prada campaign.”

“You two stop it,” Y/N whispered, giving them a wide eyed glare. “Yes he’s cute.”

“You gonna go for it?” Natasha asked, her grin twisting into something conspiratorial.

“Oh do it! If you won’t, I’ll try my luck,” Clint shifted in his seat as he continued watching Bucky. “See if he goes both ways.”

Bucky was walking back with the drinks on a tray. Y/N narrowed her eyes and made the gesture for them to zip it.

“Alright, here are your drinks! Your waters, and the Sauvignon blanc for you,” he set it in front of Clint, “the Stella Artois for you,” he set it in front of Natasha, “and the Billecart-Salmon Rose for you.” He delicately set it in front of Y/N giving her another warm smile. She reciprocated it as she reached for her wine. She took a quick sip and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Perfect, thank you Bucky,” she said as she licked her lips.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly before he caught himself. “Well, would you like to start with any appetizers? Or jump right into the good stuff?” he huffed a laugh.

“I’d like the lobster with the salad,” Clint ordered. “And could you make sure that the lobster is really big and thick. I like them meaty.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at him and his not-so-subtle innuendo. Bucky knew what he was doing and just let it slide, nodding in agreement. “I’ll put in a good word with the chef.”

Natasha next to him giggled before ordering. “I’ll just take the scallops and shrimp.”

Bucky nodded before turning to Y/N. “I’ll have the crab cakes and risotto, please.” He nodded again and gave her a smirk.

“My favorite,” he gave her a wink, making her blush. “I’ll get those in and come back to check on you all in a little bit,” he swept the table with a smile before walking back to the kitchen.

“Stop it, don’t embarrass him,” Y/N chastised Clint. “I’m sure he and the other servers get enough grief from creepy patrons all the time.”

“Oh it was just a little fun. Besides, he’s all eyes for you, honey, he barely even looked at me,” he shot back at her as he sipped his wine.

“It’s true,” Natasha said, then gave her an exaggerated wink. Y/N rolled her eyes. “I think you should ask him out. Or maybe he can be your next sugar baby.”

“Oh don’t bring that up again,” Y/N groaned. “It was a one time thing and ended badly. I just wanted to try it.”

“It ended badly because he was an ass, not because of anything you did. You gave him charity and he gave you an attitude. This guy seems sweet, nothing can hurt from just asking,” Natasha chided her, reaching out and pinching Y/N’s arm lightly.

Y/N considered her words. She had wanted to try out the lifestyle of being a sugar mama to a sugar baby. She had a lot of events to go to throughout the year, and as much as she enjoyed spending time with her friends and networking with people, she was getting really tired of these high-class, ridiculous men who thought that just by being famous or wealthy that she would throw herself at them. They wanted to use her for her name and connections. They never really cared about her. So she had tried being a sugar mama to a man who wasn’t famous, down on his luck, and just trying to get a leg up in life to escort her to these functions and give her companionship. But once he’d gotten his debts paid off by her and a taste of luxury he quickly became influenced by the rich douchebags around him and started treating Y/N disrespectfully, so much so that he’d made front page news of some tabloids and embarrassed her. She kicked him out after that and blacklisted him from any upcoming events. If there was one thing that she would never condone it was when others tried, directly or indirectly, to humiliate or embarrass her.

Bucky did seem nice, and very tired. The dark circles under his eyes and his shirt not being as ironed as some of the other servers were small giveaways that he was struggling. She didn’t want to embarrass him either by asking to be her sugar baby and assuming that he was struggling financially.

“He is very handsome,” she conceded, a larger smile spreading across her face.

Natasha squealed, clapping her hands joyfully. “Do it!”

The night dragged on as they ate their delicious meals and ordered more glasses of wine. Other patrons were clearing out as it got later and closer to closing time. As tired as Bucky was, doing his nightly closing duties quietly and discreetly so his table couldn’t see, he was banking on their tips. High end restaurants meant high end clients meant high end tips, and he had rent coming due next week. He packed on the compliments to Y/N and her friends, gave them warm and flirty smiles, offered complimentary items, and gave all his attention to them exclusively. Y/N had asked to compliment the chef and when he came out and talked to her table she whispered something to him that he quickly agreed to and jogged back to the kitchen. Bucky gave him a questioning glance but the chef waved him off.

Bucky watched carefully until he saw Y/N’s hand raise and her eyes searched for him. His cue for the check, which he quickly grabbed and brought it over to her. As he glanced at the insane price he noticed an extra meal that wasn’t supposed to be on there as he got to the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N, there seems to be a mistake on the bill, I apologize, let me go–”

“No mistake, Bucky,” Y/N reassured him just as the chef came back out with a doggy box. He handed it to her and thanked her for coming. Y/N shook his hand and slipped something into it before he disappeared back to the kitchen wearing a rare smile. “Thank you,” she reached for the bill and slid her black American Express into the folder.

“Oh, alright, I’ll be right back then,” Bucky composed himself after the mini heart attack he just had from thinking the bill was wrong as he walked back to the stand to take her payment. Once everything was paid he brought back the folder, this time seeing her friends standing and putting on their coats while she stayed seated.

“Thank you, Bucky,” Natasha said his name seductively as she passed him. Clint gave him a little wave and a smirk as he left with her.

“Have a good night!” He called after them. He approached the table as Y/N was opening her wallet. “Here’s the receipt Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for coming in tonight.”

“No thank you for such excellent service, Bucky,” she complimented him as she took the folder again. “Will you sit with me for a moment?”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised and he glanced back at the bar. The manager, Pietro, and Wanda motioned to him to do as she asked. “Yes, of course,” Bucky accepted and sat himself in the chair across from her where Clint sat previously.

Her gaze flicked over him as she opened the folder, took the pen provided and filled out the parts of the receipt meant for her. She closed it and slid it over to Bucky who thanked her and placed it in front of himself.

“I have a proposition for you, Bucky. And please understand when I ask this that you are under no obligation to accept it and I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she started, looking a little nervous.

“Okay,” Bucky stated lamely as he watched her.

Y/N cleared her throat and put her fidgeting hands down in her lap. “I would like to offer you a type of job. As an escort, a sugar baby, to me.” Bucky’s eyes widened comically as he processed what she said. “I know it’s a strange request. But it’s something that I enjoy trying and it helps others…sometimes. I don’t want to assume anything of you, but I can tell when someone is struggling, and you look like life has not always been the easiest or kindest to you. I mean no offense.”

“None taken,” he replied automatically. “I…yes,” he looked down as he confessed to her. “It’s been, uh, rough, to say the least.”

“Hm,” Y/N hummed. She reached a finger out and pointed to the closed folder. She gestured for him to open it. He did and took a look over the receipt, nearly choking when he saw the amount on the tip line.

“No, no Miss Y/L/N, this is too much,” Bucky protested as he stared at the number.

“That’s what your service was worth. You are worth every cent, and more,” Y/N praised him. “You don’t have to decide tonight, Bucky, but in the meantime, here’s my card,” she slipped a business card over to him. “Think about it,” she said as she stood up. Bucky quickly stood up with her. Y/N stepped closer to him and reached for his hand. They shook hands and she leaned in and whispered to him, “By the way, you’re very handsome.” Bucky’s eyes bulged and he swallowed hard as she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek then turned and left. Bucky realized as he watched her leave that she had slipped something into his hand. He opened his hand to find a small folded wad of one hundred dollar bills in his palm. “Oh and that’s for you!” She called out and motioned towards the doggy box still sitting on the table. “Your favorite. Dinner’s on me,” she said and gave him a wink then twirled back around and out the door.

After she was out of the restaurant and beyond hearing Wanda and Pietro ran up to him. “How much did she give you?” Wanda squealed as she looked at the bills in his hand. He quickly counted it.

“$1000,” he whispered as he gawked at the money.

“Give me that,” Pietro demanded as he took the folder from Bucky. He opened it and gasped. “She gave you a $2500 card tip?? What did you do, Barnes, give her and everybody at her table a blow job?”

“Wow…I don’t know if I want to be her or be on her,” Wanda said wistfully as she looked back out the glass door where Y/N had already gotten into her car and drove off.

Bucky felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he stared at the bills, the $2500 floating around in his mind. He was not comprehending just how much she had given him. He looked at her business card again and knew he had to at least meet with her and find out what she was offering. But to become an actual sugar baby? To have a sugar mama? To have his debt disappear? To be taken care of? He smiled as his fingers touched where her lips had been.

**this picture has me SALIVATING. This is what I imagine sugar baby!Bucky to look like in this. Hope y'all like it!**

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #smut #sugarbaby!bucky barnes #sugarbaby #sugar mama #sugarmama!reader #chapter 1

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