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alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

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Now with a part two!

There’s a guy that comes to the cafe Eddie’s working at. Every other day, he comes to the counter, smiles at Eddie and gives him a post-it with “hi, an americano with two sugars please :)” written on it. He has a different color of post-it assigned for every day. Eddie smiles back and makes the americano, trying to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest.

Needless to say, the guy is insanely cute. He has swoopy chestnut hair, droopy, almost puppy-like eyes, and two moles on his neck that make him look like he’s been bitten by a vampire. Eddie’s not sure if he finds it more adorable or sexy; either way, he’s definitely developed a crush. And now, after months of trying to gather up his courage to say hi, after months of pining and staring from afar... He’s still nowhere near ready to talk to him. And Chrissy’s not letting him live it down.

“You’re insufferable,” she whispers to him frantically when the guy comes through the door on the first Monday of December. “Do something more than smile dumbly or I’ll fire you.”

“You can’t fire me,” Eddie hisses back as he tries to dust pastry crumbs off of his shirt.

“I’m the manager. I can do whatever I want,” she chirps back and goes on to cleaning the machines that don’t need to be cleaned, because Eddie did that twenty minutes ago.

The guy comes to the counter. There are snowflakes in his hair, big and soft. Eddie thinks that they compliment his eyes—then he realizes that it’s a weird thing to notice about a stranger.

The stranger smiles. Eddie smiles back. Today’s post-it is light purple.

Eddie makes the americano. It’s muscle memory at this point, he’s not even thinking about what he’s doing until he has to force a lid onto the cup and serve it to his customer. Hell, whatever. He grabs a sharpie and bends down to drabble something on the cup, trying not to spill the coffee. He manages to draw an ugly looking snake that was supposed to be a dragon, cringes, writes “Have a nice day!” underneath it and prays that it isn’t too weird.

Of course it is. But, miraculously, the guy looks at it, huffs a tiny laugh and smiles right at Eddie and – yeah, whatever, curse him – the whole room lights up. Yes, it’s sappy. Sue him. He could be sappy for this guy—if the guy wanted it.

He takes his coffee and leaves, but before he crosses the threshold, he turns back and waves at Eddie, using only three fingers. It’s a small wave, but a wave nonetheless, so Eddie sends him his best grin and waves back.

When he’s finally out, Eddie bends over the counter and groans. Chrissy pats him between the shoulderblades, mocking sympathy. “You’re on probation,” she whispers. Eddie groans once again. This is hell.

***

He has to call in sick on Wednesday. Now that he’s thinking about it, he kind of knew that the mayo smelled funny and it wasn’t good anymore. But he’s a broke college student and he had a choice: stale bread with mayo and a slice of tomato, or just stale bread with a slice of tomato. These weren’t even real choices. It was suffering or suffering.

Apparently, he’d chosen double suffering, and he had a whole night of hurling to prove it. Good thing he doesn’t have to send Chrissy any photos of what he had to deal with – when he calls, she cuts him off with “Just take my afternoon shift tomorrow and we’re even. You’ll miss out on your cutie, it’s a punishment in and of itself,” and goes on with her day.

Eddie’s so grateful for Chrissy. He wouldn’t get anywhere without her.

***

Eddie doesn’t expect his guy to come on Thursday, it isn’t his regular schedule, so he’s in for a surprise when his morning shift ends and turns into Chrissy’s afternoon shift, and then, some time later, his guy comes in—and he’s not alone.

He’s with a girl. With a pretty, pretty girl, who has beautifully curly brown hair, inquisitive eyes and kind but determined expression on her face. There’s something quite unique about her; Eddie thinks, briefly, that she looks like she’s from another era. Like if they were living in the 80s, she would have a perm, wear bold lipstick and have a whole wall of degrees and certificates in her office. She seems to be destined for great things. She’s a badass.

Eddie’s nothing like her. He tries to swallow down the jealousy as they near the counter. His – his? – guy looks surprised, but smiles either way, his eyes lighting up in a matter of seconds.

“Hi,” the girl says. Her own smile is so nice and warm Eddie can’t stay mopey for too long. “I’ll have a latte with two shots of espresso, and…”

She turns to the guy beside her, but Eddie doesn’t have to know the answer. “An americano with two sugars. On it.”

Their eyes lock for a second. The guy seems a bit shy, but he’s still smiling. Eddie counts that as a win. But he’s still quick with their coffees. He can sense the staring contest they’re having even while he has his back turned to them. He kinda wants them gone, but they didn’t ask for to go, so he just tries to stay calm. Focused. Sharp.

Fortunately, he doesn’t spill anything. They get their order and sit in a corner. It doesn’t look like a date, they pull out books and notes, scribble and sign from time to time. The girl clearly knows more than just the basics of ASL, unlike Eddie. Since the guy started showing up, he’s been trying to learn more about it, but now he makes a mental note to enroll on a course. It’s time to commit – to what, exactly, he’s not sure. But he’s gonna make it happen.

Hours pass, but they stay in the same position. Eddie steals a glance every now and then, trying not to let his jealousy get to the surface again, but it’s hard. The guy is cute, the girl is smart and beautiful. He decides to call Chrissy on his way home – if he has to pine, she’ll suffer with him.

The end of his shift is nearing when he hears a giggle from the godforsaken corner. He looks up from the cups he’s been rearranging and sees that it’s his guy’s girl who’s laughing. She’s laughing at yet another girl, who’s standing outside and drawing hearts on the dirty window. She has a goofy grin on her face, one that makes her eyes and her prominent cheekbones pop even more, and it’s the same grin that the girl inside is wearing at the moment.

Now, Eddie doesn’t know a lot about love, but he definitely recognizes heart eyes when he sees them. He smiles to himself – don’t judge a book by its cover, huh?

His guy looks exasperated about being completely ignored, so he taps the glass a few times. The girl outside looks at him, shocked, like she’s only just seen him now, sticks out her tongue at him, and goes back to blowing kisses at her girlfriend. The guy looks truly wounded. Eddie snorts; the dynamic here is immaculate.

In the meantime, the not-his-guy's girl has gathered her things and prepared to leave. She kisses his cheek on her way out, but the guy stays put, bending over his papers again. Eddie thinks it’s quite interesting. Then, he makes a plan.

When he’s done with work, his guy is still there. Which is perfect. Eddie fixes his hair one last time, trying to gauge whether his outfit is metal enough (it is) for the occasion, and grabs the americano with two sugars he’s made.

It’s alright. Everything’s alright.

His wildly beating heart isn’t so sure about that.

When he gets to his guy’s table, he sets the piece of paper on it first. “Looks like you’re swamped – it’s on the house,” it says. The guy looks up, surprised, his mouth opened in a tiny oh. His eyes go wide for a moment and then he smiles. Something warm settles inside Eddie’s chest.

The guy picks up a pen and writes “Thank you!!!” on Eddie’s piece of paper, but before giving it back, he changes his mind. “I’m Steve,” he scribbles, and then gives it back with a flash of smile.

He smiles a lot. It’s an amazing sight.

“Hello, Steve. I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you,” Eddie replies. “What are you working on?” he adds after a second, because he’s feeling bold and he really doesn’t want to go yet.

The guy – Steve – sighs. He makes some room on the loveseat he’s occupying and pushes his books to the middle. Eddie takes it as a cue to sit down. Their knees bump, Eddie gets goosebumps, but he doesn’t move away. Neither does Steve.

“I’ve got an assignment on modern fantasy and its mythological origins, but I’m not as nerdy as my friends so I’m struggling a bit. Nance helped, but she’s not an expert either and my other nerdy friends went for a trip. Maybe you have any experience?”

Eddie’s eyes open wide and he bounces with excitement, nodding his head along the way. “YES,” he writes, all caps, and Steve huffs another laugh. They look at each other then, Eddie all hyped and ready, Steve—soft? There’s no other way to describe it. His gaze is gentle, almost caring. Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.

His phone buzzes aggressively in his pocket. He checks it – it’s Chrissy. She’s got her period and she’s out of tampons.

“Shit,” he mumbles. Steve bumps their shoulders.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Eddie picks up the pen. “Tiny emergency, I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”

He knows that his hopeful stare must seem desperate, but Steve reads his reply, looks up and smiles, nodding. Eddie wants to scream victory, but he only nods back and gets up instead. When he’s about to turn and leave, he feels fingers wrap around his hand, delicate but firm. Slowly, Steve opens up his hand and writes something on it.

It’s a phone number. “In case you get sick again :)”

Eddie can’t hold back his dopey smile any longer. When he looks at Steve, the corners of his lips quirk up too. He’s lovely.

Eddie can’t wait for tomorrow.

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hungharrington · 11 months

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can we leak our dms and discuss sexy sweaty runner steve bc i feel like everybody deserves to know what we know 🫡

him coming home in his lil runner shorts and a hoodie and he’s all flustered and sweaty 😵‍💫 try not to jump his bones challenge failed immediately!!

ali stoppppp 😩 like. i’m literally gonna lick the sweat from him, give him a goddamn sponge bath with my tongue and there would be nothing that could stop me. and oof if he’s sweaty enough it makes his hair is all funny, some of the sweat making it flop and stick together in little bits tehe <3

coming home from a run would go smth like this: enter steve, he’s tan, he’s sweaty, he’s wearing the worldest tiniest shorts again just to give a heart attack to every milf on the block when he goes by and calls out, “morning mrs. callahan!” all polite. he knows what he’s doing >:) he wanders into the kitchen to grab a glass of water where you’re sat, picking at the end of your breakfast. he can feel your eyes on him as he drinks, downing a whole glass of water and refilling it immediately, to down half of the second glass.

taking a breather, steve pulls his hoodie up to wipe the sweat off his face and water from his mouth and you have to quietly inhale a mouthful of drool as his tummy is exposed— rippling wildly as he tries to catch his breath. you fail to contain said drool and steve looks up just in time to catch you wiping at your mouth a little. he smirks, the bastard, and starts shucking off the hoodie— not even trying to hold down the shirt beneath it. it’s a show of tan skin, moles, and his hairy chest and you’ve somehow managed to clench yourself thighs tighter by the time he wrangles it off.

“i’m…” he starts, eyes looking you up at down. he licks his lips. “gonna have a shower. care to join me, sweetheart?”

you stand up instantly and steve snorts a laugh, completely endeared by how eager you are — loves to know that he’s so wanted by you. he plants his hands on his hips and wiggles his eyebrows at you, running his hand through his hair quickly. “okay, race you to the bathroom? go!”

he doesn’t give you a second, sprinting out of the kitchen and flying up the stairs, his runners high just making it easy as pie. he’s halfway up the stairs, when he hears your “steeeeeeeeeve!” and it just makes him grin, beginning to shed his shirt, dropping it carelessly in the hallway. his blue nike cortez’s go next, one after the other. “i’m getting naked!” he calls back, then laughs a little when he hears your feet thunder a little faster on the stairs. and you know, for someone who’s just been running for the last hour or so, he seems to have plenty of stamina in the shower…

#OBSESSED OBSESSED OBSESSED #RUNNER STEVE MY FREAKING BELOVED #GOD I NEED HIM!!!!#think about him.#big grey hoodie. tiny green shorts. blue nike cortez. SWEATY from his RUN #i’m creaming my pants just thinking bout it tbh #he’s so goddamn boyfriend i’ll die #ur right ali we needed to share this w the world #jay answers #jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut

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mobius-m-mobius · 2 years

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Night at the Museum (2006) / NATM: Battle of the Smithsonian (2009)

#owen wilson #steve coogan #jedtavius #night at the museum #night at the museum: battle of the smithsonian #tiny husbands my beloved red and blue coding my beloved enemies to lovers my beloved what DON'T they have :')))))#truly the blueprint 😭💕#jedediah #octavius #owenwilsonedit #movieedit #dianagifs

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ellena-asg · 1 year

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Danny Williams: I hate pineapples!

Well, that's a lie. Because...

Also Danny Williams:

Hm.

Hmm...

*Ok, come here...*

Um...

*slurp* *slurp* *slurp*

Ooohh!

Mmmm...

Mmmmmmmmm!

*oh my... oh... it's... it's... soooo good*

*smack* *smack* *so juicy!* *so sweet!*

*unbelievable!*

*ummmm nom nom*

*oh God, yes!*

*mmm... delicious*

*he's eating a PINEAPPLE* *ohhh* *whoah!*

You're eating a PINEAPPLE! Yummy?

Yummy? No! *my Ma's brownie is yummy and this... this is a fucking ambrosia! PINEAPPLE. Daaaamn!*

Danny Williams: Pineapples, I hate you (I love you).

Well, I wasn't that wrong when I once called Steve a pineapple 🤭 Oh and yes, of course, Danny likes pineapples because of Steve. He likes everything in Hawaii because of (thanks to? 😁) Steve. It's Stevie's fault, all is Stevie's fault 😉

#h50 #McDanno #danny williams #steve mcgarrett #kawika #pineapples #pineapple paradise #a very tiny meta #very pineapple babbling #season 1 my beloved #I'm still too tired for making comics (sorry) but at least have some silly McDanno babbling instead - I love you ❤️

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stevesbigbazoxngas · 2 years

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I have this headcanon that Steve is actually really good with hair. Because of his Ma getting sick he would french braid her hair up and out of her face so it would stay cleaner longer and she didn't have to worry about it matting from constantly being in bed. Steve in his childhood would brush his Ma's hair and help her with it to help her feel a little better after coming home exhausted from constant working.

Steve learned to cut his own hair so he wouldn't have to worry about going to the barber shop and paying a days worth of pay on a damn trim. This extended to cutting Bucky's hair when he moved in, and braiding Buckys sisters hair when they asked because Steve was better at it from so much practice.

Maybe he even surprises Nat one day, offering to braid her hair for her and her letting him, watching him get through it in under 15 minutes. She didn't expect it from him and when he explains where he learned, she can't help but indulge hime every once in a while. Even if she could do it herself, it was always nice to see that shy smile on Steve

This later becomes something Steve does to Bucky every once in a while when he visits him in Wakanda. Bucky loves feeling Steves hands in his hair and loves seeing that concentrated, but relaxed look on his face.

It reminds him of those old days in Brooklyn, when Steve one by one plopped all the Barnes sisters down in front of him on the couch and did their hair. Armed with a tiny comb and determination. Reminds him of watching Steve sit his Ma up and gently card a comb through her hair when she was too far in to be able to get out of bed.

Just, Steve having this skill that noone really expected. I think it's cute.

#steve rogers #steve rogers my beloved #bucky barnes #sarah rogers #stucky #stevebucky my beloveds #i just imagine a tiny stevie wanting to help his ma as much as he could #so he learned how to help do her hair #rebecca barnes #barnes family #steve rogers headcanon #40s stevebucky #natasha romanoff #headcanons #long post #sarah rogers my beloved

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undreaming-fanfiction · 25 days

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My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things drabble #steddie au #steddie fanfiction #dustin henderson #lotr steddie #ish #lord of the rings steddie #not proofread we die like Boromir MY BOY #ahem this got long #Steve the redorkifier Harrington #Eddie the reemerging dork Munson

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emchant3d · 2 months

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Son of the mafia Steve only it’s his mother’s side of the family, not his dad’s, so he’s far removed from it but just involved enough to reap the benefits of being the only child of the mafia boss’s beloved only daughter.

Stefania Harrington left the family for “true love” against her father’s wishes and she’s too stubborn to go back on it and divorce him, but every time Richard Harrington fucks up she runs to her father and quietly builds a trust fund for her darling son in case her shitty husband really goes through on his threats to cut him off.

She’s the absolute light of her father’s life, she can do no wrong, if she’d just ASKED he would have let her marry Richard, but she was in her rebellious phase and so she ran off with him to some tiny nowhere town in Indiana and now the family has to come to Hawkins to see them.

They aren’t around often - the family is busy, the distance is a lot, his grandfather is getting up there in age and travel can be hard on him, but his visits are some of Steve’s happiest childhood memories.

Steve’s grandfather LOVES him because he’s so much like his mother - sassy and mouthy and remarkably chill with all the crime so long as he doesn’t have to be involved. He’s got a personal vendetta against Richard Harrington because it’s bad enough you took my daughter, now you’re mistreating my grandson? My pride and joy?

He makes not-jokes all the time about Steve just saying the word - “Your uncle can arrange an accident for the man,” he always says, and Steve thinks that’s so dramatic and unnecessary until he hears about how many times Al Munson almost got his son shot and he thinks “my family was right, actually.”

#mine #cannot stop thinking about this i have so many thoughts

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steddiehyperfixation · 3 months

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don't you forget about me (part eight; final)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)(part seven) (ao3 link)

It was an “if” if Eddie would actually be discharged today, but now, after some more poking and prodding, he's finally on his way home with prescriptions for pain meds and physical therapy.

Wayne helps him up the three creaky, beautifully familiar stairs into the trailer, and Eddie collapses onto the old, beautifully familiar couch the second he gets inside. The weary groan he lets out is only slightly over-dramatized. “I feel like an 80 year old man,” he complains, entire body sore and aching to the bone already. “Now I know how you feel.”

“Oi, I ain't that old,” Wayne protests. When Eddie snorts derisively, Wayne rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, so we both got creaky knees now. You, at least, will be young and spry again in no time, though,” his uncle tells him. “Just get some rest, old man.”

Eddie heaves a great big sigh, takes another breath to steel himself, and then does just the opposite of that.

“What did I just say?” Wayne mutters as Eddie moves to stand again.

“I said I’d call Steve,” Eddie says. Steve had to go to work, but he'd told Eddie that morning to call him if he ended up making it home today. “I’ll dip out of work and come hang out, help you settle in, if you want,” Steve had said.

Wayne offers, “I can call him for you.”

“No, no, I got it,” Eddie insists, words broken by a grunt as he hauls himself back to his feet. “I can make it to the phone, Wayne, I'm not a complete invalid.”

“Alright.” Wayne raises his hands in defeat and backs off. He’s never been one to hover. “You just shout if you need me.”

Eddie limps - slowly, painfully, with difficulty - to the phone on the wall by the tiny dining table they never use, the surface littered instead with unopened mail and haphazard papers scribbled with notes and reminders and important phone numbers. He leans heavily against the table as he paws through the piles trying to find a note of Steve's number. Eddie finds it buried deep, probably long since memorized by now before his memory got erased, but there it is: a notepad paper with Steve's name scrawled on it and two phone numbers written underneath, home and work.

“Bingo.” Eddie grabs the paper, takes the phone off the hook, and dials the work number.

The phone rings a couple times, and then: “Family Video. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Stevie.” Eddie smiles at the sound of his voice, as if he hadn't literally just heard it only a few hours ago.

“Eddie!” Steve's bored customer service voice brightens. “Are you home? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, I’m home. I’m alright. I mean, I’m bone-fucking-tired and feel about a million years old, but it's really really good to be back,” Eddie says honestly. He adds, “I’m under strict orders to rest, though - gonna be bored out of my mind, so I could use the company if you were serious about ditching work for me.”

“Of course I was serious,” replies Steve. “It's a slow day today anyways.”

Eddie grins. “Get your sweet ass over here then.”

A smile is evident in Steve's voice too. “I'll be there in ten.”

Eddie hangs up, tries his best to wipe this stupid lovesick grin off his face. He stumbles his way down the hall to his room next, flicking on some music from the cassette player on his dresser and looking around. His room is just as beautifully familiar as the rest of the trailer, not much changed from the way he last remembers it. The same music and D&D shit clutter his surfaces, the same posters clutter his walls. His bed is unmade, clothes litter the floor, same as always.

The only differences: his beloved electric guitar no longer hangs on the wall by the mirror (he was told, devastatingly, that she hadn't survived her trip to the Upside Down), and there are photographs he doesn't recognize taped up around the corners of that mirror. Eddie staggers over to get a closer look, only to first be momentarily jumpscared by his own reflection. His face is pale, eyes sunken, and his hair frizzes out in a greasy, tangled mess around his head, unwashed and unbrushed for who knows how long. Gross, but whatever. He manages to ignore his sickly appearance and inspects the pictures he had apparently deemed important enough to stick to the edges of his mirror.

There are photos of Eddie smiling with Hellfire and his band and the kids, in large groups and small groups, with old friends he remembers and newer ones he doesn't quite. But what catches his attention the most is a photobooth strip of him and Steve. The first picture shows the two of them grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders; the second, a silly face photo, Eddie sticking out his tongue and Steve crossing his eyes; the third, Eddie giving Steve devil horns while Steve laughs; and the fourth-

Eddie plucks the strip off the mirror, stumbles, so taken aback he trips over his own lame feet until he plops down heavily onto his bed, and he stares. He stares at the last image in the row, which depicts - clear as day and undeniably real, immortalized in ink on photo paper - Steve kissing Eddie, tender hand on his cheek, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

He stares and he stares and he stares. And the longer he stares the more he can almost feel it, taste it, see the events of that photo strip playing out in his mind’s eye like a waking dream. Like a memory.

Steve pulls up to the trailer, the one with the metal music blaring from somewhere inside that announces to the whole park that Eddie Munson is back home. He smiles at the sound, gets out of his car and bounds toward it.

It's Wayne who lets him in when Steve knocks on the door. “He's in his room,” the older man tells him as he steps aside to let Steve in. “Make sure he's stayin’ off his feet, will you? ‘Cause lord knows he won't listen to me.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve says, and his tone and his smile say I got him. Wayne nods.

Steve makes his way down the hall to Eddie’s room. He raps his knuckles against the door first, but he doubts that can even be heard over the music so he pushes it open without waiting for a response. “Hey, Ed-” Steve starts, only to falter when he sees Eddie sitting statue-still on the edge of his bed, eyes boring holes into a photo strip of the two of them together. “Oh.”

Eddie blinks, expression unreadable as he looks up and over at Steve. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I-” Steve doesn't know what to say, what he should say. His veins buzz with a nauseating mix of hope and anxiety and it's making him feel a bit sick. He takes a deep breath, turns down the music so he can think. “I wanted to. I just- I thought it would freak you out. You didn't know me. I didn't want to force anything on you.”

“So…we were together,” Eddie says slowly. “For how long?”

“Since July.” Steve’s desperately searching Eddie’s face for something, anything, to clue him in to what Eddie’s thinking or feeling right now. “Are- are you freaked out? Because you look a little freaked out.”

“I’m not freaked out,” Eddie says, and it's almost convincing. “I'm just…processing.”

“Oh-kay…” Steve breathes out, leaning cautiously against the doorframe, still hovering by the exit just in case Eddie decides he doesn't want him there anymore once he's finished processing.

“I’ve, uh-” Eddie looks back down at the photo strip he holds in his hands and takes a breath. “I’ve been remembering some things, you know, little things - in dreams - about us. But I- I thought I just had a crush or something, because I thought if all of that was real, if we had really been that happy - that…in love - then you would've said something. You would've told me.”

When Eddie's eyes meet his again, Steve realizes he'd misread his expression before. Eddie's not freaked, he's upset, hurt, not because of what he's learned but because it was kept from him. Of all the worst-case scenarios Steve's spiraling mind had come up with over the past couple weeks, he had not considered this one. So preoccupied with his own angst over being forgotten and fear of being unwanted, Steve hadn't thought to consider that him hiding the true nature of their past might make Eddie feel unwanted too. That's the last thing Steve wants; the ache of that trumps any other ache he feels.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I just- you didn't know me, and I panicked; I didn't think, or-or I thought too much, but I should've just told you.” Steve pushes off from the doorway and goes to sit beside Eddie, because he can't stand Eddie looking at him with those big doe eyes and not being close to him. He leaves a bit of space, barely holds himself back from taking hold of Eddie's hand. “Because it was real, all the things you've been remembering. It was real- it is real, and I’m so sorry I didn't tell you.”

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. His gaze flicks him up and down and across his face, and then Eddie grabs him, hands dropping the photo strip to instead clutch at Steve's cheek and jaw as he pulls him in and kisses him. As their lips slide together, familiar, the both of them sigh into the kiss. Steve feels a bursting in his heart, so similar to the way it felt the very first time they’d done this: the giddiness of reciprocation, the intuition that this is right.

When Eddie pulls back after a few long moments, something is changed, something returned. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flutter open; and when they do, for the first time since he'd woken up in that hospital bed, Eddie sees him, knows him, loves him.

“How could I ever have forgotten that?” Eddie says, almost whispered, running his thumb across Steve's cheekbone. “How could I ever have forgotten you?”

Steve could cry. Tears made of relief and joy blur his vision, because Eddie is looking at him with all the tenderness he'd been missing these past weeks, the painful emptiness of before now filled. It's all back. His Eddie is back. Steve pitches forward and hugs him bodily. Eddie returns the embrace; Steve sinks into his arms and it feels like coming home.

He closes his misty eyes, buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck and the tangles of his hair, and he breathes him in, clinging onto him like Eddie might just disappear if Steve ever let go. Eddie holds him just as close, one arm wrapped firm around Steve's waist while his other hand cradles the back of Steve's head and strokes his hair. Steve soaks in every touch, feels every place where they are pressed against each other, so warm and safe and loving after so long without it. He is whole again in the arms of the man he loves.

“I missed you,” Steve mutters, lips brushing against the skin of Eddie's neck as he speaks, muffled.

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, “my Stevie, I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. It wasn't your fault,” Steve mumbles, and he thinks maybe they both need to stop apologizing for this.

Eddie must think the same, because he says, “And it wasn't yours either,” like he knows every twisted, guilty thought that's been haunting Steve lately and he absolves him of them. He tugs gently at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eyes. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says quietly. Eddie reaches up to brush from his cheek a tear Steve didn't even know had fallen, and as he wipes it away he wipes away everything - all blame, all fear, all pain. Eddie had forgotten him, and it sucked, but now he remembers again, and none of that matters anymore. Steve hangs onto Eddie's wrist. “Just-” His voice rasps with emotion, making it rougher. “Don't you ever forget about me again.”

It's not a promise that can be made with any certainty - anything can happen at any time, just as unexpectedly as it had this time - but Steve doesn't need certainty, he just needs to hear the words, and Eddie gives that to him. “I won't, darling,” he vows, with gentle reassurance. “Never again.”

“Good,” Steve sighs, turning his head into Eddie's hand to press a kiss to the palm.

The last of his heavier emotions drain out of him then and now he can feel the joy of Eddie's return in its whole entirety. As he rolls his face out of Eddie's hand and settles his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him, a grin begins to spread across Steve's face; Eddie's smile grows in tandem with his, like he's smiling just because Steve is. Steve says, giddy in full now, “You're back.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, lovely and bright, ducking to bump his forehead against Steve's. “I'm back.”

Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to tangle a hand in his hair, and he tilts his head up to kiss him again, just because he can, because he's making up for lost time. They draw each other in close once more, lips and bodies moving against each other, easy and natural. Steve could stay right here like this forever, never wants to stop holding him or stop kissing him.

But a thought - a question - tickles at the base of Steve's skull, and when he does pull back he asks, hopeless romantic that he is, “Just in case - I mean, just so I know - what was it that brought your memory back? Was it like a…true love’s kiss breaking the spell sort of thing?”

Eddie laughs, gives Steve another quick peck like he always does when Steve says something endearing. “Not quite, Prince Charming,” he responds with a grin so fond Steve thinks his heart might burst. “It was more like…the things I had remembered were just dreams to me, shallow and unreal, but kissing you was like an anchor, a reminder that allowed those dreams to sink in as proper memories and become real.”

“So…basically it was true love’s kiss,” Steve says cheekily, just to hear Eddie’s laugh again, just to receive another affectionate press of Eddie's lips against his.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie concedes, smilingly, never one not to indulge whimsy, “we can call it that.” But then he amends, with a little less levity, “It wasn't exactly a magic cure-all, though. It didn't bring everything back, there are still gaps in my memory.” He looks at Steve with eyes like pools of melted chocolate, soft and endless. “But I remember that I love you; I remember that much.”

And Steve tells him, “That's enough," and he pulls him in for another true love's kiss.

THE END. taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (continued in replies)

#and that's all folks!#endings are so hard for me but i hope you guys like this one #huge huge thank you to everyone who's followed along; all the love and support on this has been insane and i am so grateful <3 #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

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inklessletter · 9 months

Note

Congratulations, first of all, for reaching the milestone 💐💐💐 you deserve every single follower, and then some. Your art is always so pretty and I love how you bring us along during your process.

Secondly, would you like to make art based on this fic of mine? I'm thinking right at the beginning, when Eddie falls to his knees on stage and he and Steve have their "moment".

Thank you for hosting this fanart party ❤️

Steve tilts his head, and Eddie prepares for a kiss. He gets no lips, only tongue; Steve licks his mouth, from one corner to the other.

🎸🎸🎸

@2btheanswertothequestion

This one was SO MUCH FUN TO DO. I had trouble finding good references for the ambiance, but I love the result. Please, go read the fic, it's so good.

I know that I don't know many of the users that sent me requests a few weeks ago, but I've got a tiny story to tell about this one (I'm getting to know you little by little and I'm falling for every single one of you, you talented fuckers). They are the reason I am in Tumblr. It happens that I created an account many months ago, and didn't know how to use this, I just clicked "follow" to the tags and the blogs ST/Steddie related that posted fics and arts, and on my way to work, in the bus, I read the first chapter of a fanfic that made lose my stop (literally, I got late to the office that day).

Sad thing is the next time I opened the app, the fic was gone. I just remembered a few things and god knows that the search bar in this site works... well, works. Sometimes. I couldn't find it. I made it my personal goal to actually find this fic again, and this user, whose name I didn't catch because, again, I didn't know how to use Tumblr. This user pulled a full Cinderella on me, reading with intent every fic until the shoe fit. And I found it by mere coincidence, because they posted the third part, and I was like "WAIT IS THIS IT?". And it was it.

In the meanwhile, I actually completed my account, like you know, trying not to make it look like a bot (that I learned that it was a bad thing that could get me blocked), I put a profile picture, I made it decent, I learned how to use Tumblr (a bit). So, you see. This user, my beloved @2btheanswertothequestion is the one to blame that I actually stuck in this place. If you're wondering which one was the fic that got me so hooked up it was November Paramedic. (Here the AO3 link). Go read it, you're gonna love it.

(I'm kinda mad that they didn't asked me to draw the actual picture of the calendar, though. I have some ideas, I might draw it the future, because when I say that I hold this fic very close to my heart, I mean it.)

I really, really hope you like it, I worked hard on it and I did this with every bit of love stored in my heart ❤️❤️❤️

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museandwords · 1 month

Text

Warnings: female!reader, 1940’s setting, dubious consent, mentions of war, age difference (hinted), innocent!reader, insecure!reader, bucky is a bit of a fuck boy, i feel like i should mention they do have sex with reader’s parents being in the house so i’ll throw that out there, bucharest!bucky (my beloved come home the kids miss you), reincarnation (kind of?)

Author’s Note: It's finally here! I don’t know what the end goal of this was but I listened to illicit affairs by taylor swift and this was born? To be honest this has just morphed into something and it’s moreso just me rambling but anyway enjoy. Feedback is always welcome!

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

----

The first time you meet James Buchanan Barnes and his best friend Steve Rogers, you're the new waitress at a diner on a corner in Brooklyn. It’s your first shift, and you're wearing a satin bow in your hair. You wore lipstick to look more mature, and you gave a dazzling, sweet smile at all those who walked in.

You wanted to look pretty.

You were eager to get a job, loved the idea of some independence and wanted to do your best.

“Hi, what can I get you?” You ask as you grip your pocket-sized notepad in your right hand, a blue pen in your left.

When you look up from your pad, your hand stills and your heart skips a beat. It’s almost like the wind gets sucked out of you, and you can feel your cheeks heat up, you've never been so enamored by a man at first sight before.

He isn’t looking back at you, not right away. His eyes were downcast, focused on the menu in front of him as he contemplated what to get.

From this angle, You can see how pink his lips are, how devastating the cut of his jaw is, and how utterly soft his cropped brown hair looks.

It's almost as if it’s in slow motion, the way his eyes move over the menu, and how he licks his lips in thought.

You think he must be older, you don't recognize him or his friend.

He’s gorgeous, and he doesn’t even seem to take notice.

You only have milliseconds to recover, and your deflated smile returns with vigor.

“Get whatever you want Stevie, I’m gonna take another minute.” He says as he finally glances over to his friend – Stevie.

Stevie is a tiny little thing, all slumped shoulders and pale skin, and probably the same size as you, but you like how large his eyes are, how gold his blonde hair is, despite the clear indicators that he isn’t well.

“Uh, yes…Can I just get a chocolate milkshake and fries?” Stevie asks you, looking up with those crystal eyes and you begin to write his order down. You nod, warm and polite the whole time.

“Of course.” You tell him gently, finishing your writing before your eyes dart over to his companion, who is now looking up at you.

And you're met with the breathtaking blue eyes you have ever seen.

You try your best not to outwardly react to him, after all that wouldn’t be very professional of you.

But how can you not feel weak in the knees when he looks up at you like that, how can you not get butterflies when he’s the most gorgeous boy – man – to ever exist?

“And you?” You ask softly, not even realizing you're nervously biting your lip before his gaze glances towards your mouth, and he smiles – amused!

“Well, Princess, can I please get a chocolate milkshake as well and…a burger?” He asks. You swallow, before nodding your head, writing down his order.

“Just a regular burger or would you like cheese on it?” You ask – rather dumbly.

And he just keeps on smiling, eyes sparkling with delight as you nervously press your pen to your paper.

“What would you recommend?” He asks, leaning forward and batting those perfectly long, curled lashes.

You flush…

“I-I normally like it with cheese…” You reply, bringing your pad closer to your face in hopes of hiding behind it.

“Alright, princess, I trust you on this.” He says with a wink.

You barely recover.

—-------

You are quite proud to say you have successfully survived any and all encounters with one James Buchanan Barnes after that.

He frequents the diner on a weekly basis, normally with Steve, or his sister or – and the most disappointing of them all – his dates.

And, you learn against your own will, that Bucky indeed goes on lots of dates. Which, you suppose you should’ve known.

You never serve him when he comes in with a girl because when he comes in you're either on a break or you haven't clocked in yet or you're just ending your shift, and you're thankful for it.

You know that you wouldn’t be able to be the friendliest you could be when he brings girl after girl through those double doors and orders milkshake after milkshake.

It doesn’t take you long to come to the conclusion that the tiny little crush you harbored for him turned into a not-so-tiny-and-little crush.

It was big, bigger than anything you've ever felt for a man, for sure. Which is pathetic considering you only ever spoke to him when he came in to order some food.

So every time Bucky Barnes came in with a new girl under his arm, you could feel yourself deflate just a little more.

They’re never the same girl.

Every few weeks Bucky comes in with a new one tucked into him.

Every time it’s the same thing, he’s got that stupidly boyish charming smile on his mouth, those intense, breath-taking blue eyes focused on nothing but his date, and he’s always so well-dressed, even in the simplest of clothes.

Every time, you see each of them fall under his spell.

You can’t really blame them.

One thing you do notice is that it seems Bucky just likes women, they have no particular similarities; blondes, brunettes, girls with hair as black night. Wide brown doe eyes, siren-like blue eyes, and everything in between.

Bucky just really seems to appreciate women.

But the thing is…they’re always older than you.

—--

You remember the first time the two of you had a moment.

It’s later in the evening, and he looks exhausted, smelling of salt water and sweat and sun. His usually pale skin has a soft glow to it, and he’s sitting on one of the stools rather than a booth. You had just come back from your break and was surprised to see him.

“Hi, have you been helped?” You ask as you slip back on your apron.

Bucky looks up at you, those startling blue eyes shining with mild recognition, and then there it is, that easy, disarming smile that never fails to make your stomach swoop.

“Oh, not yet princess,” He says and your heart skips a beat at the pet name, an echo from the first time you unofficially met.

You blush, nodding your head as you pull out a notepad and the pen that had been nestled in the bun of your hair. “What can I get you?” You ask.

He glances at the menu. You know what he’s going to get, he orders it every time.

“Milkshake and a cheeseburger, please.”

—--

It becomes a thing after that. After that first night when he sat on the stools. Something changes.

Bucky comes in every week, sometimes twice.

He always comes in during your shift. Always the exact same time; right after working from the docks, and he sits in the same spot. And he always orders a milkshake with a cheeseburger.

He chats you up in between tables, waits for your break so he can follow you and take you for a little walk down the street, waits until your shift is done so he can walk you home.

He talks about anything and everything with you, his childhood, his passions, his dreams, his mother and sister and his dear friend Steve Rogers.

And in turn you tell him about your own ambitions, what you strive for in life once you get a little older and more sure of yourself.

Not once does he laugh or belittle your dreams.

“Hey, princess?” He asks, one evening when it’s late and the sun has gone to bed and it’s pouring rain outside.

“Yes, Bucky?” You answer as you go about your closing duties, you only spare a glance at him with a small, pointed smile.

“When are you gonna let me take you out?” He asks, leaning forward on the bar as his eyes are zeroed in on just you.

You know that look, you’ve seen him use it countless times – girl after girl – and you know, instinctively, that maybe you shouldn’t. You’ve seen how this plays out. Bucky gets interested, gets what he wants, then he’s off to the shiny new toy.

So, the odds aren’t in your favor, you know this.

But who are you to say no?

—

It's your first date. The very first one.

Your parents never allowed you to date and well — you had never been asked out before.

So of course, it is both an exhilarating and anxious affair, you had worn your best dress, washed your hair and applied your mother’s lipstick.

Bucky shows up with flowers, he impresses your mother and even manages to successfully charm your father.

It’s a simple date, ice cream and a stroll in the neighborhood.

He eats chocolate ice cream, you have strawberry.

The thing is Bucky is a great conversationalist. You can see why girls swoon and sigh when he talks to them.

He asks questions, genuinely listens and responds with a meaningful response. He is also insanely funny, his quick wit is impressive.

He tells you he wanted to be a writer, but university just wasn’t in the cards to pursue this dream, so he settled for the docks. He tells you he wanted to write science fiction stories and dreams about a futuristic society where there is magic, flying cars and talking animals.

“And what about you, princess?” He asked as he held your hand.

Your brain is so overcome with the sensation of how big and warm and calloused his hand was that you barely processed the question.

“Hmm, what?” You ask, taking a lick of your strawberry ice cream to focus on something – anything. The cool sensation against your tongue is enough to alert your senses. Bucky laughs softly.

“What do you wanna be when you’re all grown up?” He asks in that endearing way.

“Oh,” You say as you think. It wasn’t like you had some big ambition, girls like you – life was pretty much about survival in this day and age.

“I always wanted to have my own little shop, like with food or coffee maybe, somewhere people can come and just be.” You tell him.

“Yeah?” He asks, genuinely interested. You nod.

“Tell you what, when you get your little shop, I’ll come and do my writing there.” He says as he beams at you, his eyes full of sparkles and wonder and hope.

You laugh.

“Only if I get to read the rough drafts.”

“Deal.”

—--

As much as you like the little dates, the walks in the parks, the little rendezvous, you also long for the more serious ones, the dinners, the dancing.

But you notice Bucky never takes you, and he always insists on you two meeting up on your own, he says he likes the intimacy of just the two of you.

But you also think about how when Bucky would date other women, he was very, very into showing them off.

You try not to read too much into that.

But it seeps into your soul, crawls into your brain when you’re alone and the thoughts just won’t stop. So, one day, while you’re walking by the water and he’s rambling on about some fight with Steve, you interrupt him.

“Bucky?” You ask, your voice so small, so unsure. He immediately notices your tone and his attention is on you in full.

“Yes, princess?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“How come you don’t…” You take a breath, figuring that isn’t the best choice of language. “How come we don’t ever go dancing?” You ask.

Bucky looks surprised by the question, though his gaze softens as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek tenderly. You know by his touch, by the way he’s looking at you, that he knows.

“I’d love to go dancing with you, princess, it’s just…I know you’re always on your feet at work and I didn’t wanna make you feel obligated or forced…” He admits as he leans closer, his lips ghosting yours as he looks earnestly in your eyes.

And, you hadn’t been considering that, automatically you had assumed maybe he was ashamed to be seen with you. And your heart melts faster than an ice cream on a hot summer’s day.

“I’ll take you dancing, girl.”

—--

So, the two of you become a thing. An unofficial, official thing where Bucky is unofficially your boyfriend. And it’s been longer than a few weeks, his usual dating pattern.

It’s been a thing that’s been sitting in the depth of your body, somewhere where your stomach meets your abdomen and it’s warm.

It happens every time Bucky holds your hand, or when he brings a straw or spoon to his mouth and sucks, or when he gets that hyper focused intense look in his eye while he’s deep in thought or doing something.

You feel it in the depth of your core, and every time your heart skips several beats and you lose your breath.

It happens the most when he kisses you.

And he kisses you a lot.

In the beginning it was small pecks goodbye, gentle kisses on your mouth that felt like soft summer rain and tasted like chocolate and salt.

Lately he’s been more zealous in his kisses. More aggressive and handsy. He’ll grab you by the waist, his hand finding the small of your back as he tilts your chin up to him so he can place a hot, open mouth kiss on yours.

It’s always during your break, or when right before he goes home, or when you’re on one of your little dates and he just can’t seem to relax.

You like kissing Bucky. You love it.

He’s all-consuming, he wants everything you can possibly give him. Your mouth, your sounds, your soul.

And you give it all to him.

Which is how you find yourself in your current predicament.

You weren’t being the greatest daughter when Bucky Barnes snuck in through your window.

“What are you doing?” You whisper scream at him, exhilarated as he moves to close the window, that boyish mischievous grin you’ve come to know beaming on his face.

“I missed you, princess. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, had to come see you.” He whispers back as he stands to his full height and turns.

He’s looking around your room. It’s a little messy, some clothes were resting on your vanity desk chair, and flush from the fact that he’s seeing this intimate part of you. Bucky doesn’t say anything, if anything you can’t help but notice the way his eyes soften, especially when he sees the posters on your wall, and the records you have on a shelf.

Or the family portrait of you and your parents that hangs above your bed.

Then, suddenly he’s sitting on your bed, and he’s pulling you into his lap.

“Bucky–!” You say before his lips sufficiently cut you off from whatever you were about to say.

It’s one of the more urgent kisses, the one where his mouth is licking into yours, his hands are moving up and down the expanse of your back, his fingers feel dry against the cotton fabric of your white nightgown. And then they’re tangling in your hair. His fingertips playfully tease the straps that rest on your shoulders.

It’s like he can’t get enough.

You’ve made out in the past, but he’s never had the urgency that he is currently encompassing. It makes your body flush, your heart rate picks up. And you’re completely still in his lap, especially once you start feeling your pussy begin to throb in response to the way he’s touching you.

This isn’t the first time he’s had this effect on you, far from it. There were a few times in the past where he’s made you so wet you had to squeeze your thighs shut and let out a strangled “Bucky–wait…” And he always respected your limits.

But now, he can’t stop. Not when he has you right where he wants you, all breathy and soft and all he could think about on the way over was how plump your lips looked after he kissed you, or how soft the curves of your body were when you wore those summer dresses he loved so much.

And you can’t help but whimper in his mouth as his hand comes up to massage your right breast over your nightgown.

“Shit,” He whispers as he finally breaks the kiss and looks where his hand is on your breast. He realizes then, that the flimsy fabric is the only thing between him and your breast. He squeezes once, twice. It’s almost like he’s entranced as he palms your breast, rubbing the fabric against your nipple.

“You’re so beautiful, baby girl.” He tells you as he finally breaks his gaze from where he’s touching you and he looks up into your half-lidded, hazy eyes.

He did that. He made you look so hazy and besotted, just from his mouth, his hand.

He feels his cock twitch in his pants just from the sight of you.

He didn’t mean for it to get this far, not really. He just wanted to come and kiss you goodnight, to hold you for a little, but once he crawled in through that window, saw you in your nightgown, and was engulfed in the scent of just you from being in your bedroom, something inside of him snapped.

“Am I?” You ask back, and you look so vulnerable, so precious as you look down at him, all swollen lips and glassy eyes. He nods.

“Most beautiful girl in the world, my beautiful girl,” He murmurs. His hands come back up, and his fingers find the straps again. His beautiful eyes meet yours, and you notice how dilated his pupils are, how heavy with lust he looks. And there's a question in his eyes, and you nod your head.

You suppose, in a way, you should’ve known it was going to come to this.

What other way was it going to go? Especially when the feelings you have for him grew, bloomed into something so beautiful and intense that you’d give your soul to him.

Bucky swallows, before he slips the straps off your shoulders, and you both move to push the fabric down and off your torso, and it pools at your waist.

Your chest is flushed, and your eyes are wider as you suck in a breath as his eyes fall to the exposed skin of your breasts. He lets out a low, soft, groan, before his hands come up to rest on your back again, and he leans forward to capture your left nipple into his mouth.

You let out a muted whine once his hot, wet mouth latches on, and his tongue comes to flick and swirl around the sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure.

Before you think against it, your hips begin to grind down against his, back and forth, gently, just enough to tease his bulge against your clothed pussy. The only thing between you and the fabric of his pants is your panties.

Bucky groans, the vibration reverberating around your nipple which causes your hips to stutter.

“Shit…I don’t want to stop.” Bucky murmurs as his mouth finally unlatches from your nipple with a soft pop and he moves to kiss and nibble the expanse of your breasts.

Then he takes a deep inhale of air and rests his forehead on your collar bone, willing himself to calm down.

Except.

“I don’t want you to either.” You whisper, your heart pounding in your chest as your skin flushes the most beautiful scarlet.

And it’s like something snaps, in both of you.

—

You hadn't seen him in a while, not since that night.

You try to move forward, try not to dwell too much on it, but your brain continues to throw images of that night in your mind's eye.

Bucky's body, naked and pressed against yours. Bucky on top of you, his hot breath against the expanse of your neck, over your breasts.

Bucky's forehead pressed to yours as he looked down between the two of you, watching his cock move in and out of your tight heat with each thrust. You can hear the way he groans, echoing in the recesses of your mind as he —

You always snap back to reality just as you feel your stomach drop.

And you feel so, so stupid when you remember what you told him.

Why did I tell him I loved him?

So, imagine your surprise, when the man of all your dreams and nightmares walks through the diner’s door, dressed in army green, standing tall with his chin confidentiality tilted back.

But you can't help but think that the uniform is wearing him.

And your heart sinks.

No.

You're helping another customer when you spot him, and his eyes are on you in an instant, moving toward the bar stool as he waits for you to finish.

Your lips purse together as his gaze lowers. And he never looked more like a kicked puppy than he did in that moment.

“Shelly? Can you cover me for a minute?” You ask your co-worker, who is pouring one of the regulars another cup of coffee.

“Sure thing!” She calls back. And you take off your apron before you move to walk to the back door of the diner. You don’t say anything to Bucky, but he knows to follow just the same.

You feel a whirlwind of emotions swirl inside of you, anger, relief, confusion, fear. And it bubbles up and sits heavily in your chest as your mind races a mile a minute.

When the two of you are in the back alley, you turn to him, resting your hands on both of your hips as your gaze burns a hole through his face. Bucky looks downward for a moment, avoiding you.

How the hell does he think that any of this was okay?

You want to rip his head off, chew him a new one, tell him to stay away from you. And you're gonna tell him! You're gonna —

“Please tell me you're not going.” You're surprised by how soft, how vulnerable and hopeless you sound.

Bucky's breath comes out fast, and he stands a little straighter.

“I ship out tomorrow.” He tells you, and he tries to look so brave, but you can't help but notice the fear in his eyes.

This is the first time you don't see Bucky as this great, impressive man, he looks more like a little boy.

Your eyes begin to water. Tomorrow.

That’s too soon. He can't.

“...What am I supposed to do?” You ask as you begin to really cry now, your voice cracks and you can feel your face become hot.

Bucky is quick to cross the space between you, quick to scoop you into his arms and begin shushing you as his hand comes to rest gently against the back of your head.

He holds you so tenderly.

“Wait for me.” Bucky whispers. “Wait for me sweet girl, I know I messed up…I got scared. You didn't do anything wrong, I swear it. I just got scared.” Bucky whispers into your hair.

“But after I got my papers I just. It made me realize that I love you too. God, I love you.” He says, and his own voice is swelling with emotion as he holds onto you tighter.

This is it…

“When we win, I want you to be here when I land.” He tells you so softly, his blue eyes are almost watering too as he searches your depths.

And it's all you've ever wanted, it's all there in his eyes, in his words.

“You have to come back.” You whisper, bringing your hand up to his cheek as your eyes are watery and bleary. “You have to come back this time…” You beg him.

Bucky brings his lips to your forehead, pressing his mouth so gently as he places a long, tender kiss there. “I'm gonna come back, I'm gonna come right back home to you and make you a wife, sweet girl.” He whispers.

You close your eyes, and you smile but it's so heartbroken and sad. Your hand comes over his, where it's placed on your hair. You can't help the feeling that is crawling in your throat, pooling in the depth of your belly.

It doesn't feel right.

“You’d better, James Buchanan Barnes, or I’m going to tell your mother.” You threaten, and he laughs.

—---

So, Bucky ships out.

The two of you agree to write, Bucky's letter comes first. He tells you of the travel, the living conditions, some of the friends he's making, and how much he misses milkshakes and cheese burgers and your kisses.

You tell him you love him, over and over and over again. Because you feel like you can't tell him enough. And you feel that there is nothing you could tell him about back home that would make him feel any better.

The clock keeps ticking…

He tells you about his capture, but nothing too graphic, you notice the change of tone in his writing and how he seems to be more unsure of this whole Howling Commandos thing with Steve. He seems more urgent, more desperate in his wording, and how he tells you he can’t wait to come home and help you open that little shop you always wanted.

Your heart breaks when you notice the smudged letters, the way the pen seems to drag and move more often than not, and that he crosses things out, and there are tear stains.

And then one day, they just stop coming, and you know something happened.

You can't explain it, but you know it was bad.

And then you get the official notice, the letter signed by Colonel Phillips.

And your whole world shatters.

—-

2016…

Bucky is in Bucharest, he just got off of a long shift at the construction site..

More days than not, he's been haunted by non-linear memories, and anything triggers them.

Sights, smells, sounds. They all bring back 80 years worth of memories, but they're so miniscule, so quick to pass by in his mind that he has to write them down before he forgets. To try and tether himself to who he used to be all the while trying to figure out who he is now.

He remembers the smell of his mother’s laundry, the pigtails his sister wore, he remembers hot summer days in a tiny little home. He remembers the taste of something chocolate and frozen and the smell of grease and salt.

Just glimpses of the man he was before a lifetime ago. And all he wants to do is grab them and hold onto them tight.

Tonight, he's tired, genuinely has no energy to cook.

So he decides to go down to the little restaurant on the corner of his street, a local favourite, or so he’s been told by the sweet little old ladies of his apartment building.

Bucky takes a seat in one of the corner booths and he keeps his eyes down, making sure not to draw too much attention to himself as he brings his baseball cap lower.

He nearly has a heart attack when he feels the presence of someone beside him. Though he relaxes once he realizes it’s a waitress.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

And Bucky freezes. That phrase echoes in his mind, over and over before it morphs into something that smells like caramel, and he thinks of moonlight, neon signs and I love you.

He knows, undoubtedly, that he knows that voice too. He looks up, startled and shocked because he knows. He knows it’s you.

Or it looks like you…

He doesn’t even know who you are, but he knows by the way his heart stops beating, and he feels a rush of blood through his body, and the way he feels like he’s been punched in the gut that he knows you, he knows you from when he was James Buchanan Barnes, boy from Brooklyn.

But how can it be you?

“Um…” Bucky doesn't even look down at the menu. He's too scared to look away because what if you disappear?

“Oh um…do you have milkshakes and cheeseburgers?”

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader

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flowercrowngods · 7 months

Text

a tiny thing for @eddiemonth day 06: crush & sincere

“I will crush you beneath my heel like vermin.”

Like thunder, the evil wizard’s voice rolls over the battlefield, leaving fear in the heart of everyone who’s alive enough to hear it and rattling the bones of those who aren’t.

Men and women alike, soldiers and knights and able bodied young men, watch with bated breath as Sir Steven, the bravest of them all, rises to his feet again beside the black-clad wizard, his grip on his trusty sword never wavering as he wipes blood and sweat from his face.

There he stands, heroic as ever, meeting the evil wizard’s eyes with a heated glare of his own.

“Try,” he says, standing his ground as his voice, too, is carried over the battlefield. Carried, indeed, for the wind blows in his favour, the sun shines only for him, and the ground beneath his feet holds him up like a trusted friend, a most beloved brother.

Sir Steven reaches towards his neck, feeling the band of leather against overheated skin, a charm resting just above his heart — right where it belongs.

The wizard doesn’t have what he has.

***

A soft chuckle abruptly changes the scenery and rips Eddie into a different world once more; sun glazed battlefields replaced with the darkness of his room, hard soil replaced with the softness of his bed, and a knight turns into a beautiful boy wearing his favourite shirt.

“A magic used guitar pick necklace? Is that what the evil wizard king doesn’t have?”

Steve’s eyes are closed but the smile on his lips shines bright, and Eddie can’t even be mad about the interruption. He reaches out a hand and trails his fingers through Steve’s hair, gently combing back the locks sticking to his sweaty forehead. The smile dims a little, turning into something more genuine.

“I can’t believe you interrupted me at the best part there, Stevie. I was going to make a heroic entrance as a dragon shifter, called to the knight simply by touching the charm.” He keeps up his slow and gentle caresses, his hands trialing down to Steve’s cheeks and neck, where Eddie’s necklace clings to overheated skin indeed. “It means a lot, you know, a charm like that.”

Steve hums, moving closer to Eddie, seeking his warmth and his touch alike, and Eddie can’t possibly refuse him.

“It could save the world, you mean?”

“Hmm. The world. A young boy’s heart. And everything in between.”

Steve blindly reaches for Eddie’s hand and brushes a kiss to his knuckles, and another for good measure.

There’s a weight to their words that’s not meant for moments like this, but it hangs in the air nonetheless, and Eddie breathes it in. The weight of a past survived and a future acknowledging that. Both of them shared like this moment. A promise.

“So what happens next? With Sir Steven and the evil wizard, and with Eddie the dragon shifter. That’s very fitting, by the way, you little hoarder,” Steve laughs, still keeping his eyes closed, and Eddie can’t help but join in, overwhelmed with affection for this boy.

This sunshine boy who’s having a bad day and a fever but still manages to be the most radiant thing in the world. This wonderful boy who asked Eddie to stay and tell him a story until he falls asleep.

“Don’t feel good? Do you wanna stay in bed, baby?”

“Yeah. Can you stay?”

“Of course. Cuddles?”

“Could you maybe… Could you tell me a story?

“I’ll tell you any story you want, sunshine.”

This incredible, insufferable boy who’s too nosy and too sassy for his own good, interrupting Eddie here and there to ask questions or give a snarky little comment that’s dripping with fondness whether he’ll admit it or not.

This boy. His boy. With the smile and the wild bed head and the insistent tug on Eddie’s hand to tell him what happens next.

And so Eddie continues his story about the evil wizard being defeated and the world celebrating the heroics of the knight and his dragon and their unlikely band of friends. If he adds a little Lord of the Rings imagery here and there, Steve won’t know about it anyway.

Before he reaches the end, Steve’s hand goes slack where it’s tangled with Eddie’s, and his breath evens out, the smile never quite fading from his lips. Eddie keeps talking, though his voice is hushed now and thick with a smile of his own now.

He loves him. God, he loves him so, so much, he can barely stand it.

“Good night, Stevie,” he whispers even though it’s barely three in the afternoon. He gets up and out of bed, tucking the blanket around Steve’s sleeping form and brushing one more kiss to his hair before sneaking out of the room on slow, quiet steps.

Outside, Wayne is reading a book on the porch, a cigarette in his hand. Eddie snatches one from the pack and leans over his old man to brush a kiss to his hair, too, feeling far too full of affection right now and needing to let it out. There is a sincerity inside him that needs to be shared.

Wayne lets out a gruff kind of hum, but Eddie isn’t so easily fooled, smiling as he lights his cig.

“How’s your boy?” Wayne asks.

“Asleep for now.”

“Good.” There’s a moment of silence between them and Eddie closes his eyes against the afternoon sun for a moment, drawn back to his story. “You let me know if he needs anything.”

“Of course. Thanks, Wayne.”

“Sure. Just wouldn’t wanna be crushed like vermin, is all.”

The laugh bubbles out of Eddie before he can help it, sincerity replaced by something lighter, something manageable for now as he lets his uncle bully him for telling ridiculous stories to the boy he loves so endlessly.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddiemonth #let them be soft your honour #dio words #a ridiculous little thing for my soft boys #eddie’s necklace saved the world bc he gave it to steve before the final battle telling him ‘i’m gonna need that back when it’s all over’#and steve replied with ‘it’s a date munson.’#dio’s steddie ramblings

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crappymixtape · 23 years

Text

steve harrington • requests // asks

( ANY REQUESTS AND ASKS FOR ALL CELEBRATIONS, SEASONAL THEMES, AND ONE-OFF INBOXES I GET, STEVE x YOU // mature content marked appropriately )

🔥 BECAUSE OF YOU, SERIES ( 500 FOLLOWER REQUEST )

PART 1 • PART 2 • PART 3 • PART 4 • PART 5 // ( 18+ ) ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

👯 1000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION

"play it cool" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, requesting the cd because i think i need to explore more music and this seems like a good way to do that! | ( song x blurb with steve harrington x reader – this one is a lil fluffy, a lil flirty, a lil fun – recommended to listen to your song while reading! )

"don't go dark again" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, oh baby, you know I gotta ask for a song for my beloved, steve | ( song x blurb with steve harrington x reader – this just leaned real angsty, hurt / comfort for a monday morning – recommended to listen to your song while reading! )

"honey, i've got it bad for you" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, can i pls request a love note from steve <3 as for mood anything a little lovelorn and fluffy will do | ( love note steve harrington x reader, little fluffy, little lovesick, lots of sweet )

🎄 A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE – WINTER THEMED ASKS

"very merry mixtape" winter!theme REQUESTS are nested under the series / multi-part master list post *18+

👯 500 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION

"don't make me say it" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, you make me want things I can’t have prompt | ( 2k – mostly angst, dumb boi steve, and a little fluff right at the end to take you home, steve x reader )

"i hate you ( not )" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, love a good enemies to lovers smutty fic – anything works, just lots of sarcasm and name calling to build up the tension • *18+ | ( 3.6k – a nice lil mountain of angst that rolls down into a big ol’ valley of smut, steve x reader )

"good love makes you hesitate" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, don’t do this here prompt | ( 2.2k – all of the angst, tiny bit of fluff, best friends to lovers, steve x bff!reader )

💌 CRAPPYMIXTAPE INBOX ASKS

"you gotta help me, baby" – REQUEST -> fluffy one about you having a summer job babysitting and Steve always coming over to keep you company...idc just Steve being a massive simp as always | ( 2.3k, modern!day au, fluff, established relationship, steve x you, steve x reader )

"shut up and kiss me" – REQUEST -> fluff prompt #25 "shut up and kiss me” • you get laid off and go back to hawkins for the weekend to wallow with your friends and the gang seizes the opportunity to try and get you two dummies to figure it out | ( 5.7k – fluff, a little angst, mostly fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"smoke and glitter" – REQUEST -> robin's been begging you to throw a party down yb the lake on your uncle's farm, like on another level, so you finally give in and who does she drag along? some co-worker from the mall and he's a total dork...right? | ( 2k, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

💌 MOOD BOARD x SONGS ASKS

"idiots -> lovers" steve harrington x you, idiots / enemies to lovers

"valentine's day" steve harrington x you, soft / intimate *18+

"best friends -> lovers" steve harrington x you, bffs to lovers

"enemies -> lovers" steve harrington x you, enemies to lovers at work *18+

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stevesbigbazoxngas · 2 years

Text

Nothing going on in his brain

#he is just 😲#the tiny #🤏🤏🤏🤏#steve rogers #steve rogers my beloved #tbh steve rogers #the little bitty kitty #he is so ☹️🤏

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waltermis · 6 months

Text

Scaredy Cat

MASTERLIST ↠ NATASHA ROMANOFF MASTERLIST

Summary: Who knew carving a pumpkin could be so damn difficult?

Warnings: swearing, Tony’s precious kitchen is destroyed

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader (romantic), Avengers x reader (platonic)

↠↠↠

“Noooooo! Natty! That’s not right!!!!!!!!”

“I don’t know what you want from me, detka!!!”

↠↠↠

“Natalia Alianovna Romanoff!!! Put down the knife right now!”

“NO!!!! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO GAVE IT TO ME AFTER THE TINY ONE BROKE!!! NOW LET ME DO IT!!!”

↠↠↠

“What’re you guys doing?” Steve asked, as he entered the living room. Inside was the entire team of Avengers, who look like they’re looking at… Natasha and you…?

“We’re watching Natasha and Y/N carve a pumpkin.” Wanda explained, never taking her eyes off the screen.

“What? What’s so interesting about that?”

“Y/N bought a pumpkin for them to carve but Nat’s trying to carve a scary face in it and Y/N wants to make it look like a cat.” Clint answered.

“What? Are they carving one singular pumpkin?”

“Yup,” Tony said, distractedly

“Why don’t they just carve two different pumpkins?”

“Y/N/N thought it would be a nice couples thing… Popcorn?” he offered.

“Sure… why not.” Steve grabbed a handful as he sat next to Bucky and Sam.

↠↠↠

“Will you quit trying to make it look scary?!” you screeched, horrified at the face your cat was making.

“Stop trying to hold me back!!! I want a scary pumpkin!!!” Natasha yelled, raising her knife.

“Do not try to threaten me!”

“I wasn’t trying to!!” Natasha argued back.

“Then don’t raise your knife at me!”

“I wasn’t!”

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!!!!” You seethed.

“Whatever!!! Just carve the stupid pumpkin!”

“You know what, no.”

“No?”

“I have a better idea…”

↠↠↠

The team looked confused, as the security camera cut out. “What? What happened??” Sam asked, his mouth stuffed with popcorn.

“No idea…” Tony said, just as confused. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. run a diagnostic scan.”

“It appears that the security camera has been disconnected by Miss L/N.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded.

“Can’t you connect it again?” Thor asked, cradling his poptarts.

“It appears to have been done manually,”

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked.

“It means that Y/N either cut the wire or just ripped the whole thing out.” Tony said, “knowing Y/N, it’ll be the latter one. F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you order more cables for the security cams?”

“Already done, sir.”

Before the team could say another word, they heard a huge crash and bang coming from the kitchen. Quickly, they ran towards the sound, only to the entire kitchen covered in pumpkin guts. The top to bottom, ceiling to floor, the entire room was covered. You and Natasha fared no better, Natasha had guts in her hair while you had pumpkin seeds and guts stuck to your clothes and caked onto your skin.

“What the fuck happened in here?!” Tony let out a shrill cry as he looked at his beloved kitchen.

“Well, Nat and I couldn’t figure out how to carve our pumpkin so we just started flinging the pumpkin’s guts at each other.” you answered, wiping away some of the guts from your eyes. Natasha looked at you and smiled, before helping you wipe it all away.

“Who knew a pumpkin had so much inside of it.” Natasha commented.

“I know right?!”

“So, did you guys end up choosing between a cat or a scary face?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, we… wait, how did you know what faces we were choosing?” you questioned, looking at them suspiciously. “Oh my god! Were you spying on us?!”

“Noooooooo…” they all declined quickly.

“Uh huh… right…” Natasha said, unconvinced.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. said you disconnected the security feed. Please tell me you didn’t rip the wires to shreds.” Tony said, still gaping at what was once his immaculate kitchen.

“Nope, just disconnected it so you guys couldn’t see what we were doing. After Nat and I clean up, I’m gonna go save a couple copies of the feed.” you said.

“Oh, yeah! Bruce, to answer your question, we did end up choosing the pumpkin’s face.” you said, picking it up and showing it off.

“So you picked the cat face?” Wanda asked.

“And the scary face.” you added, turning the pumpkin around to show Natasha’s terrifying carving. “May I present to you, Scaredy Cat.”

“That’s pretty cute.” Clint complimented.

“Thanks…” Natasha responded.

“Why Scaredy Cat?” Thor asked.

“Because it has a scary face and it’s a cat. What’s so hard to understand?” you asked.

“Yeah, exactly. What’s so hard to understand? Now if you’ll excuse me, my girlfriend and I need to shower.” Natasha said, dragging you away.

“What?! No!! Clean this up!!” Tony said, still having a meltdown about his kitchen.

“What was that, Stark? Too far away can’t hear you! Love you! Byeeeeeeeee!!” you said, as Natasha cackled, along with you.

↠↠↠

822 words

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #avengers #avengers x reader #natasha x reader #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #thor odinson #bucky barnes #bruce banner #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n

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nburkhardt · 10 months

Note

My beloved baby Pikachu I bring Pokémon ideas~

Eddie as ghost type gym leader whose gym looks like a metal concert and he has his sweetheart strapped to his back at all times

Steve as a water/fighting type gym leader whose gym is half a pool. Everyone is surprised to find this guy in a soft pastel sweater, tight jeans, and the fluffiest hair is the leader. Until he brings put his nail bat as the battle starts.

Everyone thinks they hate each other because they seem polar opposite but no one notices the skull ring on Steve's left hand nor the soft purple sweater Eddie sometimes wears.

They're married your honor!

The Party is a group of newbie trainers that get taken under their wings of course.

🖤❤️🖤❤️🐼

AHHHHH!!! PANDA I LOVE YOU, I already freaked out in dms with you but I’mma say it again: I LOVE YOUR BRAIN, you get ALLLLL the forehead kisses 🥹🥹🥹 I’m sooo gonna ramble away. Maybe not a full fic but my god I’m obsessed. (It’s a full fic, with a surprise pov!)

We’re going to mix up all the gens together (so if you only know some Pokémon, I’ll include pictures at the bottom of the ones I mentioned)

ALSO: if you have any ideas for anyone else’s Pokémon, let me knowwwww.

Onto my rambling fic under the cut 🥰

Here’s the thing, when Dustin decided to take on the gym challenge, he had no idea what he was going to expect.

He didn’t think picking a grass type to start could both hurt and help him between each gym. But Snivy was a little spitfire and like him; dramatic. She didn’t like any of the nicknames he threw out at her. She also didn’t like her pokeball, instead she preferred to sit on his head.

All of his friends were also doing the challenge but he was getting distracted by figuring out more information on each Pokémon instead of just battling. They’re all ahead of him, which, is okay it’s annoying but’s fine.

Especially when he ran into Steve.

Dustin was supposed to take on the fairy gym next but he heard the leader was ruthless. So, he decided to train up a bit. Maybe even evolve Natu and Trapinch. But instead of that, he was grumbling as he carried his very much knocked out, Trapinch to the Pokémon center instead of battling more.

Servine was walking next to him now, too big for staying on top of him when walking. She was also grumbling in her own way, crossed arms and nose in the air.

“We’re trying to get them to evolve, Servine, not knock them out!” He threw out at her getting closer to the center, “can’t believe I let you get your way all the time”

She apparently didn’t like that information and huffed before walking away, which would normally be fine if they weren’t in a new town. So, instead of reaching the Center like he wanted, he turns around to follow her. Returning Trapinch to his ball for now.

“Come ON, Servine I didn’t mean it like that! You’re so good at everything but-” he immediately knocked into somebody and knocked to the floor, “fuck, ow. Dude!”

Looking up he finds a guy, probably in his early twenties with a Mimikyu sitting on his shoulder while a tiny Pumpkaboo floats next to him. Which is a weird combo with the dude’s outfit choice of a soft looking yellow sweater and light wash jeans. “Not my fault you weren’t looking, dude”

Dustin glares up at him before getting up and dusting his legs off, “hey! I’m only looking for my Pokémon, she ran off from me!” Looking around he can’t tell which direction she actually went in, “by any chance you from around here?”

The guy makes a funny assumed face, both ghost pokémon snicker as well- which is so confusing. But he’s not too concerned for that, more so about the fact that his goddamn starter ran off.

“Yeah, you could say I’m from around here. What’s the Pokémon? A tiny Bidoof? Oh or is it a little Oddish?” He laughs and makes a weird hand movement that clearly both ghosts know and move away, “they got a name? That’d be way easier”

Crossing his arms he looks away, “Servine, and no. She didn’t like anything I came up with, so”

The guy’s laugh dies down and he frowns, “what, were the names lame or-” he shakes his head, “you’re upset, sorry, I’m Steve. Let’s find your Pokémon instead of bickering”

“I’m Dustin, and- SERVINE!” His eyes widen as the tiny Pumpkaboo (seriously how is that Pumpkaboo that small?) leads his Servine towards them, “I’m sorry, seriously, you’re the best and that was uncalled for. Are you okay?”

Servine nods and curls into his arms. He doesn’t bother saying anything else to her, cuddles her close and turns to find Steve picking up Mimikyu and whispering to Pumpkaboo, “Thanks. Seriously”

Steve smiles, “no problem, Oz here is pretty good at finding things.” He looks at his watch before wincing, “I gotta run, we’re gonna be late. You at the fairy gym?”

What the- “how do you know?”

Steve gives another funny look before shrugging, “Got an eye for these things, anyway, next gym is ghost. Be wary of him, he’s a little, hm, much. Yeah?”

All he can do is nod and watch as Steve just walks away.

Fairy gyms are brutal, even with Trapinch evolving into Vibrava. His saving grace was Slugma and that was it still rough since it’s fire isn’t that effective against fairy.

Maybe he should’ve gone with more poison types.

But that was two days ago, and now he’s making his way towards the next town and their gym. He is wary. Not only because of what Steve told him but because of running into Lucas.

(Lucas had decided on a water type, Totodile. Which was a little surprising for Lucas but Dustin didn’t question it, the little Totodile was energetic and lovable.)

He was minding his own business trying to figure out whether or not he could, technically, learn how to speak in the Pokémon’s language. When a blue bundle ran towards him, looking around he spots Lucas trying to catch his breath. “Hey! I thought you would’ve been passed this one”

They play catch up and once it’s all been said and done, Lucas shows him where the gym is. It looks fairly normal on the outside but Lucas swears it’s a whole other world inside.

“It’s like a concert, and there’s an actual audience too! Which was overwhelming at first, but once I got my footing it was like they weren’t there” Lucas explains, stopping only once their in front of a normal looking gym, Lucas laughs and shakes his head, “yeah that was my first expression too. I think you’ll enjoy it. Might have a hard time”

He looks away from the building to raise an eyebrow at him, “what does that mean?”

“Dude you picked a grass type as your starter! And you have no dark types!”

Rolling his eyes, “thanks for the encouragement, I’m sure I could handle it. Even with the disadvantages.”

Lucas looked like he didn’t believe him, but it didn’t bother him. Their whole party looked at him funny when he went with a grass type. Hell, Max made fun of him for it.

It didn’t matter, the gym challenge is turning out to be nothing he wanted to do once he’s able. He wanted to be a professor anyway. This was just temporary, even if he gets beat a bunch of times.

Walking inside the gym, he bypasses the annoying tips guy at right next to the door and makes his way to find the actual battle area. Lucas gave him the directions, it was confusing he said.

Sure enough, there’s a goddamn maze and cords everywhere.

After what feels like hours, he makes it to the end and is faced with a stage. Cords and what looks like vines everywhere, sure enough a small audience is there too. It looks all badass and a mix between rock and metal.

As he opens his mouth the lights go away and he has to immediately cover his ears as a loud beat starts. There’s a guitar being played even louder, clearer too. A spot light hits the stage and now he knows who’s playing.

Standing in the middle of the stage is a man. Long frizzy hair, leather jacket over a t-shirt with a band on it, ripped black jeans and black shoes. His guitar really completes the look, red with black lines all over.

The guy plays for a few minutes before stopping and walking closer, “Welcome to my metal concert, you ready for your ass to be handed to you?”

Right as he’s about to open his mouth a little orange and brown blur pops up behind the gym leader, it looks oddly familiar.

The man follows his gaze and groans, shifting his guitar to his back and focusing on the tiny Pokémon next to him, “Ozzy, we talked about this! Either stay in your ball, off the battle field or at home.”

Dustin blinks, moving closer he finds that the tiny Pokémon is a Pumpkaboo. That’s definitely moving and saying something back, which makes the guy shake his head before glancing around.

“Uh-“

“Hold on, I’m trying to find- HONEY LOVE! Come get your child!”

There’s no movement but he hears a snort, then the tiny Pokémon moves away and he sees the gym leader shake his head again, “sorry, that little guy is only a baby. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

The guy’s smile is wild and maybe Lucas was right.

An hour later and Dustin is sitting on the edge of the stage freshly beat and definitely ready to call it quits for the day.

“Did Eds give you a rough time?”

His head snaps up, there’s Steve with Mimikyu on his head and a Vaporeon sitting next to him.

“I just need to do some more training.” He doesn’t want to admit that yes, the gym leader, Eddie, definitely gave him a rough time. It was fun, but Eddie was even more brutal than the fairy gym.

Maybe he just needs to catch a dark type.

Steve nods slightly, making Mimikyu squeak. “Doesn’t hurt to train more, V here” he pats the Vaporeon’s head, causing a pur to happen, “wasn’t the greatest battler, we had to do lots of training. Before you do any of that, want to come have dinner with us? You and your Pokémon can all rest for the night”

Dustin can’t figure out how he didn’t put two and two together. He feels like an idiot right now.

“What do you mean you’re also a gym leader? The final one at that?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Steve snorts, putting his hands in his pockets as he leads them to a house, “not my fault you didn’t pay attention when the professor talked about the gym challenge to you.”

Crossing his arms he glares at the ground, “yeah well, Professor Owens forgets shit. How is it you’re the water gym leader yet have a ghost type with you?”

There’s an amused smirk on Steve’s face and what sounds like a giggle come from Mimikyu, “I might specialize with water types, I do have a fond experience with ghost types. And dude, it’s okay to try catching other types. I just so happen to work better with water types. Queen here was a gift, basically, my partner found an egg and gave it to me.”

He nods because Steve’s right, it is nice to use all different types. Though if he did only pick one, grass or bug type is where he’d stick with.

“Alright” Steve smiles and comes to a stop, “we’re here, once we get inside you can let your Pokémon out.” He leads them up to a door and Dustin takes in the mixture of aesthetics.

There’s clearly two different personalities living in this house, whoever Steve’s partner is, definitely enjoys the darker aesthetic compared to Steve. Who gives off a more pastel aesthetic. Not that he fully knows, he’s still going off or how Steve is dressed.

“Hey baby, I brought a guest!”

They both hear a crash and then a curse. A Gengar floats out of the kitchen and snickers as it stops in front of Steve, “What did you do?”

“He’s over the moon for beating up a Nin- woah! Honey love, you brought the kid I just beat?”

Blinking hard because there’s no way, Dustin also rubs his eyes before looking over at the kitchen doorway. His vision clears and yep, there’s the gym leader, Eddie, standing there in a pastel purple sweater and black sweats with his Decidueye leaning behind him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, seriously?”

Steve outright laughs and pats his shoulder, “dude, you’re face. Oh man, should’ve taken a picture.” He moves closer to Eddie and presses a kiss to his cheek, “He looked so sad after the defeat, I had to.”

Eddie shakes his head, amusement clear on his face, “Honey, you gotta warn people when you bring them over. Even if they look like a kicked Eevee”

He scruffs and looks away from the couple to find the Pumpkaboo, Ozzy apparently, next to him. It makes him groan, “I’m an idiot, you’re the one who found Servine!”

Ozzy nods excitedly before floating down and nudges his bag, confused he opens it and Ozzy dances around him. He’s curious and looks over at the couple, “uh, what?”

“He’s asking you to let your Pokémon out, they’ll enjoy some play time and food.” Eddie answers and looks at the time, “which is done by the way. Come on, let them out and we’ll give you some tips”

Shrugging, he does just that, all his Pokémon looking around curiously before spotting the backdoor where Ozzy and Steve are now in front of. All of them rush over and Steve laughs before opening the door, letting all of his Pokémon outside.

“Don’t worry, we got a fence and there’s food already out there.”

He can only nod and watch as his Pokémon all play together with Steve’s and Eddie’s Pokémon.

Dustin doesn’t know how he ended up here, honestly, he’s sitting inside a home that belongs to two gym leaders. Who are not only two of the strongest ones but also married to each other. Of all the things he was learning, this might’ve been the most surprising.

————

I’m gonna end it there because if I keep going this post will be stupid long (it already is 😅) BUT!! I decided to make this into a series!! It’ll be a fun one that I could write and post whenever I want. Can switch up povs and everything this way. Please don’t ask me why I went with Dustin’s pov this time around, I don’t even know. I just..kept going.

Anyway! If you enjoyed this let me know what you think and if you have any ideas/suggestions you can totally leave me some!!

Taglist: (sorry if you don’t like Pokémon 😂)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @strangersteddierthings

Here’s the graphs of the Pokémon I have mentioned and also the full teams of the main three (Dustin, Steve & Eddie) and also Lucas’ totodile (didn’t come up with his full team)

#steddie #pokemon au #steddie fic #dustin henderson fic #Dustin will be a Pokémon professor someday #for now he’s that kid at every start of the games that goes ‘SCIENCE IS AMAZING’#stranger things fic #nburkhardt writes #strangers things and Pokémon au #steve x eddie #tbh idk how to tag this

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