Something Good ⋆ Bucky Barnes

something good ⋆ bucky barnes

Something Good ⋆ Bucky Barnes
Something Good ⋆ Bucky Barnes
Something Good ⋆ Bucky Barnes

summary: bucky is about to go to war without confessing his feelings for you. you are about to watch him leave without confessing your feelings for him. that is, unless one of you gets up the courage to do something about it...

"I...need some fresh air. I'll be back."

Steve looks like he's going to argue with you as you push the chair out, but then you glance toward where Bucky disappeared in the crowd of people dancing, and Steve's face softens before he gives you a nod.

"We'll be right here," he says, pointing to your barely-touched drink. "Be careful."

The alley behind the bar is damp and quiet, cool from the rain earlier in the day but blissfully empty. You lean against the bricks and tip your head back, closing your eyes.

Steve was wrong — you should have stayed home.

He'd begged you to come out tonight; it wasn't just the two of them, he'd said, his eyes wide with hope. A few others had been invited, too, old friends who Bucky had wanted to see one last time before shipping out tomorrow.

And girls, of course. Girls with big smiles and bright eyes, who looked at Bucky as if they were hungry and he was a steak dinner.

To his credit, though, Bucky had asked you to dance first, and you'd said no. No, because it would have been impossible to act casually around him with your hands on his chest and his on your waist.

So, yes, you’d needed some fresh air after that. How could you not, when—

"Are you mad at me?"

You turn toward the voice that came from down the alley. Even though it's dark, you, of course, recognize him instantly, silhouetted against the weak light coming from inside the bar.

"Me? No, you—I'm not," you reply, your tongue feeling like it weighs three pounds. You attempt a smile. "What are you doing out here? You should be inside, enjoying your last night, no?"

Bucky shrugs and walks closer, but only far enough so you can see each other without straining.

"I was looking for you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Steve said you'd come out here."

"I'll go back inside soon, I promise. Don't worry."

He doesn't move except to kick a loose pebble away from his toe. "Why didn't you want to dance with me?"

Your stomach plummets at the question. He sounds almost hurt, and you wish you could explain yourself to him in a way that doesn't include blurting out your stupid feelings in the process.

"Uh...I don't know, I just...well, no reason," you stumble, wishing desperately that you weren't such an idiot. "I thought I'd keep Steve company while you...you know."

"Danced with the rest of them?"

You nod silently.

Bucky makes a scoffing sound before running a hand through his hair. "They're all the same."

"Okay..."

"It's not, uh, it's not what you think," he continues, taking a step forward, then back again as if he's unsure of how close to stand. "The girls — they're nice and pretty, sure, but...they're just not... I don't think they're my type, I guess."

"Uh-huh," you murmur, turning your gaze downward toward your shoes, suddenly finding it easier to look anywhere but at him. "Yeah, well, we better get back before—"

"Is there somebody else?"

The air in your lungs vanishes at his abrupt question, and you look up as your heart starts beating out of rhythm.

"Excuse me?" you whisper, surprised that you've even found your voice. "Somebody else?"

"Somebody that you...that you're seeing," Bucky says slowly, his words strained, as if every one causes him pain.

You stare at him for a second, hoping this is a joke, that maybe Steve put him up to asking these ridiculous questions — or maybe he's been drinking too much — because, surely, Bucky couldn't possibly be trying to ask you what you think he's trying to ask you.

"Bucky, let's just go back inside—"

"It's Steve, isn't it?" he cuts you off with the most absurd statement yet. His expression softens. "It's okay, really. If you are, I mean. He's a really good guy."

"Steve?!" You actually laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking your head until the shock fades away into incredulity. "Jesus Christ, no! I mean, Steve is...he's like a brother to me, what...what the hell are we even talking about?"

"But...there's someone?" he asks again, sounding less upset than he had a few moments ago.

"No, not—no," you say, slouching against the wall and shrugging halfheartedly. "There's no one. Honestly, there hasn't been since..."

"Since when?"

Since I met you.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and praying that a sinkhole will open up and swallow you whole. This has gone on long enough. "I don't know. It's...been a little while. I don't know what you want me to say, really."

"I just wondered."

"Okay, fine."

You start to walk back to the door leading inside, but Bucky moves so quickly that you run smack into his chest.

"Wait, just—"

He grabs your hand and holds it gently, thumb softly brushing along your knuckles.

Your breath hitches at the unexpected contact. You glance down at where he's holding onto you, then back up again, confused, curious, wondering if this is real and not some strange dream you'll wake up from any moment now.

You exhale with a shaky laugh when he lifts his other hand to your cheek and rubs his thumb across it, stopping at the corner of your mouth.

Slowly, so slowly, he leans in.

"Bucky," you breathe, his name soft on your tongue.

His forehead touches yours, and you reach up to rest a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Do you not want me to...?"

He's never been this close to you, but everything about the moment feels familiar — the heat radiating from his body, the light scratch of his stubble on your cheek, the smell of him surrounding you.

You lift your chin slightly. "I do, but..."

"Just..." You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips; he's so close now that they brush against yours as he speaks. "I wish I'd...said something before it came to this."

"Before what came to this?"

"That I'd have...asked you. Proper, like. Dinner, movie. You know, the way it shoulda been. Before I...before I leave."

You stiffen at the word leave, pulling back so that you can look him in the eye.

"Bucky..."

"I wish I would've asked you to dinner. Would've loved to take you to dinner," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Wouldn't that have been nice, doll?"

A small smile lifts the corner of your mouth. "It would've."

"It could've been nice, you and me."

"I think it could have been."

"Yeah?" he chuckles quietly, lifting your hand and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of your fingers, then your palm. "I think it can still be. You see, I'm quite selfish. I'd like to go to war with something good to think of. Something — or someone — to come home to. That'd be worth coming home to."

"Like...Steve?"

It's a joke, of course, and Bucky, to his credit, does laugh, too. Then, he slips a finger under your chin and tips your face up toward his. You hold your breath as he dips his head to place a gentle, barely-there kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Not like Steve. No."

The music from inside the bar becomes louder, a woman's voice singing softly, sweetly. Stars fading, but I linger on, dear...

"I..." You clear your throat nervously, fiddling with the collar of his jacket. "You better come back to me in one piece."

"You gonna be waiting for me?"

You smirk. "I mean, I already waited this long, so I might as well—"

The rest of your words disappear into his kiss. You gasp at the sudden, almost desperate press of Bucky's lips on yours, but then he brings his hands to the sides of your face and kisses you more gently, more slowly, more purposefully, as if he has a lot to say to you in this moment but words fail him and the only thing left to do is this — to kiss you, over and over, again and again, to say, with his lips, with his hands, with every inch of himself...that he'll come back to you.

You whimper as Bucky's teeth catch your lower lip and tug before letting go. He pulls back far enough to look at you, to see your swollen lips parted. "So...that means yes, right?"

"Yes," you murmur. You slide your hands over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling his mouth back down to yours. "It means yes."

More Posts from Anonymouskiwi and Others

5 months ago

Cuddling with Eddie on the couch during a cold winter night watching some movies and despite being wrapped in his arms with a blanket covering the both of you, you still feel cold.

Eddie’s wearing one of his oversized band shirts that he had accidentally picked out thinking it would be a tight fit, but for some reason the size ran differently than normal band tees, and of course he loved it too much to return it after trying it on at home because it was the only size they had left.

Since you were still cold, an idea came to you that you knew would warm you right up. Eddie’s body always gave off heat, no matter how warm or cold it was outside, so you used that to your advantage.

You lifted your head where you had it laying against his chest and shuffled a few inches downward so you could lift the hem of his shirt up to stick your head underneath and press your cold face against his warm, bare chest.

Eddie raised his eyebrows at your sudden action, letting out a soft laugh of amusement. “What are you doing, silly girl?”

“M’still cold. Need your warmth to warm up my face.” You murmured as you nuzzled your cheek against him some more to bask in his warmth, earning a wide grin from your boyfriend.

“God, you’re adorable. You know that?” He beamed, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“Uh huh.” You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “I love you, Baby.”

“I love you.”

Just a random thought that came to me that I wanted to share 🖤 We love space heater boyfriend!Eddie in this household 🥰

1 year ago

Eddie Headcanons 1.

110% a girl dad

Loves head scratches or when you play with his hair

He likes apple juice more than orange juice

He has done stick and pokes on himself

He loves everything about Halloween, dressing up, horror movies, candy

He can be very competitive

He loves the rain

To calm down after a hard day, he’ll go drive around and listen to music

He can roll amazing joints 

He actually draws alot, like dragons and shit

He’s a munch <3

He wrote a song about his mom

He’ll poke you if you aren’t listening to him, and will until you do

When he gets a new cassette or vinyl, he’ll call you so you can both listen to it

He LOVES physical touch

If he talks about his mom with you then he REALLY trusts you, he wouldn’t just talk about her with anyone

He fidgets alot, with his rings, bracelets, the strings in his ripped jeans

He says that he hates babies and their annoying, but really he is actually really good with babies and kids

He falls asleep in his jeans

He loves psyching people out

He’ll purposely turn off your alarm so you guys can cuddle longer

He hits people when he’s excited

Proposes with ring pops

He loves red slushies

Leaves notes for you all the time

He carries a pocket knife with him

He keeps a poloroid of you on the mirror of his van

BODY. WORSHIPS.

He thinks crystals are really cool

Likes drawing on his hands

He loves laying on you, your chest, legs, stomach, anywhere

He gets really giggly randomly (especially if he’s high)

He’s kinky, but hey maybe thats just me

He’s so loud, he’ll be yelling at like 3am 

Listen…I think Modern!Eddie would think Brittany Broski is hilarious and would have a crush on her

He is very protective over you and his friends

(Sorry I haven't posted in like a week, I've been so fucking busy)

5 months ago

You hold mr crawling’s face in your hands, caressing his cheeks as you watched him chirp and purr as he melted into your touch as he puts his hand atop of yours, keeping you where he needed you most.

‘I will kill for you I hope you know that.’ You said all of a sudden and mr crawling stopped to look at you with an adorable frown on his lips.

‘Kill for me?’ Crawling asked in his unique way.

‘Yes. You keep safe.’ You replied in an attempt to communicate in the only way he could understand. ‘Must have you safe.’ You add and mr crawling smiled widely as he patted your hands in excitement while letting out a laugh.

‘You keep safe.’ Mr crawling then said as he moved to cuddle himself up to your chest, listening to your heartbeat. ‘Keep this safe.’ He adds as he nuzzles his head against your chest and you couldn’t help but bundle him in your arms and kiss his head multiple times, breathing in your own shampoo and conditioner lingering in his hair.

‘We keep safe.’ You muttered to him as you run your hand up and down his back, feeling him tighten his grip on your waist as he made himself comfortable atop of you for a man of his tall stature. ‘Keep safe.’ Mr crawling murmurs softly against you as a calm befell you both as you enjoyed each others company, safe under some layers of soft blankets and soft kisses planted on the others skin in praise and appreciation for one another; Such simple pleasures are the ones you treasure the most.

5 months ago

eddie doesnt let anyone touch his hair. ever.

it reminds him of his late mother, who had the same gorgeous untamed curls. She used to comb his hair when he was little, being ever so gentle and taking her time brushing out the knots.

his father made him feel less-than for just about everything about him, including his gorgeous mane. Called him awful names and always told him to ‘cut that fairy shit’ when it grew too long.

so, ever since she passed, and his father went to jail, hes been growing it.

unfortunately, she never taught him how to take care of it, she’d always just do it herself. So, he doesnt put product in it, he doesnt cut it, he doesnt even brush it. And, stubborn as his mama, he doesnt let anyone else touch it either.

then you come along, happy and sweet, always loving to everyone. he falls in love with you so fast he hardly even notices. you certainly dont either.

one hot summer day you’re both in his room, you on his bed, him pacing, frantically explaining some sort of nerdy campaign idea. you dont know, you havent been listening for a while, too distracted by the way he keeps wiping sweat from the back of his neck. you cut him off rudely, he doesnt mind

“hey eddie?”

“sweetheart?”

“whens the last time you got a haircut?”

he freezes, silent, which is very out of character, dude never shuts up.

“uhh. like a few years ago. why?”

its your turn to be quiet, suddenly all coy. he finds you absolutely adorable as you stare at his floor, trying to find a way to ask him without startling him. as if he were some wild animal, which, he basically is.

“just.. immm noticinggg its kinda matted in the back…”

you try to sound the least accusing as you can. he doesnt seem offended but you can tell hes thinking.

“well, yeah, i. i guess i just havent touched it since. well my mom used to do it for me”

you feel like an ass, touching on something you shouldnt have, making him all quiet and sad. you backtrack.

“jesus, eddie, im sorry i didnt mean to-“

“its okay angel, i know”

he sits next to you. you give him a nervous smile, still sweet, hesitantly reaching for his curls. you can tell he’s hesitant too, but he nods, granting you permission. you take a single strand between your fingers, twirling it.

“Its so pretty, eds. ..would you let me? take care of it, i mean?”

hes scared. but youre so sweet and youre asking so nicely. a part of him is scared if he lets you, he loses another part of his mom. but the other part is staring into your eyes and seeing nothing but genuine affection.

“i.. i guess you could.. try.”

his heart pounds in his chest. You absolutely beam, thanking him immediately and bouncing around the room, looking for a brush. he laughs, shaking his head. you watch as he rummages through his closet, before handing you a light pink brush. you think about teasing him for it but he already looks vulnerable. you smile sweetly instead, taking it from him.

“sit” you point with the brush. he does as you say, running his hands up and down his thighs in a self soothing motion.

“its okay eds, you dont have to be nervous.. ill be gentle i promise” he gives you an unconvincing smile. you return with a guilty one, downturned. you kneel in front of him, in between his knees, brushing his bangs with your fingers.

“we can stop whenever you want, okay?” his cheeks are bright red as he nods timidly

you move to sit behind him, and run your hands through his curls gently, admiring it. you take a part, hold it at the root, and brush gently.

“that feel okay? tell me if it hurts” ever so sweet.

“mm-hm” you can feel his nervousness. “you- you remind me of her, y’know”

youre pretty taken aback, but honoured nonetheless. you keep brushing through the mattes in his hair as you talk.

“Yeah? Wanna tell be about her?” youre not sure if its the right thing to say, but you figure he probably hasnt told anyone about her. you can practically feel his energy shift.

“she was sweet. loving and kind to everyone, like you.” you both smile. “and she was pretty. beautiful. i really miss her.” you stop, rub his back a little.

“i can only imagine.. im sorry eddie.” he turns to face you, smiling.

“s’alright sweetheart. thanks for letting me talk about her” he hugs you. you hug him back, tight.

“hows the ole hair going?” He asks when he pulls back, a joking tone to lighten the mood.

“good!!! ive gotten the mattes outta this chunk here, it looks good. your hair is really beautiful, eds” youre ecstatic and it travels to him.

“thank you. my mom had the same hair.” he smiles, turning back around to let you continue.

“i bet she was really gorgeous.” youre extra-extra gentle. He keeps talking and you keep working. He tells you about how she smelled, the softness of her voice, his favourite memories with her. he tells you about the last time he saw her. he tells you all the things hes been holding inside, everything he never got to tell anyone, never trusted anyone enough. and when hes done, his hair is untangled and soft.

you smile proudly, running your hands through his hair, marveling at your work.

“its done” he whips around, looking at you with wide excited eyes

“really??” you nod, smiling wide. he runs over to the bathroom to see for himself. You stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder in the mirror. Hes surprised, looks like he might even cry. you wrap your arms around him, leaning your head against his arm.

“do you like it? Its a little poofy, but you can wash it out and it’ll look be-“ he cuts you off by turning around and hugging you. he hugs you tight, lifting you up.

“thank you.” you can tell he really means it.

4 months ago
Gojo's Wife Is Calm, Collected And Well All Around Mature, Much Like Nanami. So When Someone Was Taken

Gojo's wife is calm, collected and well all around mature, much like Nanami. So when someone was taken by surprise that your last name was Gojo and not Nanami, that was the first time Satoru Gojo felt true heart break, his throat closed up and he thought he was about to blast this person into the sun. Is this what seeing red is like?

Buut of course his very sweet and understanding wife, simply placed herself into his side, hand pressing against his chest running it up and down as you say gently.

'Nope, this tall handsome fella is my husband.'

With the proudest smile on your face Satoru couldn't stay upset for long especially when you looked up at him with those soft eyes, he hooks his arm around your waist before standing up straighter a smile spreading across his lips, a cheeky smile some would say, as he responded with.

'That's right.'

Gojo's Wife Is Calm, Collected And Well All Around Mature, Much Like Nanami. So When Someone Was Taken

(divider made by @adornedwithlight )

1 year ago

You and Eddie, silly grins on your faces, high and feeling groovy as you dance around the trailer, playing and singing to that one scene from Dirty Dancing.

"How you call your lover boy?"

"Come here, lover boy!

You collapse on his bed, smiling and giggling as he cages you in, peppering kisses to your face. His hand cups your cheek, leaning up to admire his girl.

He kisses you delicately, but fueled with passion and love. You pull away first when a light bulb goes off in your head. "LET'S DO THE LIFT!"

"Absolutely not!" He states, sternly.

Okay, that's all. Have a wonderful night. Bye

3 months ago

Thinking about curling up in bed with your boy after a long day and he just squishes his face to your chest and sighs, knowing you’re the only thing he looks forward to on his way home 🚬

Thinking About Curling Up In Bed With Your Boy After A Long Day And He Just Squishes His Face To Your

what comes from his mouth might as well be a foggy detection of echolocation to any other person, but luckily, it’s just your boyfriend. he’s got his cheek pressed against the fabric of your tshirt, eyes shut, bleached hair falling in messy tufts over the both of you. he does it again. “mmmphh.”

“KENMA,” you breathe, holding in a laugh to refrain from scaring him off. “I can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”

he lifts his face from your ribs, finally, staring up at you almost boredly. there’s a twitch to his brows that gives him away, a slight crease that whispers of his annoyance in the subtlest of ways. his narrowed eyes meet yours. “you find this funny.”

you’re half sputtering and half grinning by the time he’s finished his sentence, the knowledge that although he was correct it was in the most incorrect form of perception something that you couldn’t express. yes, it was funny, but not in the har-har, get a load of this guy way. it was in a look at my avoidant grump curled up on my chest like a needy cat, I should take a picture to remember this way. now that you thought of it, your eyes flickered to your phone on the side table.

“don’t.”

you huff.

“so you laugh in my face and expect me to let you exploit me as well?” he asks, almost playful interrogation flowing from him like honey. he could be a little sweeter if he really wanted it to apply, but you couldn’t ask for more. not when he was like this.

you brush a stray piece of hair from his face, not missing the way his expression softens at the ghost of touch. “not laughin’ at you. you’re just cute like this is all.”

the passive expression melts into pure embarrassment, and soon enough his face is a magnificent shade of pink before its being nuzzled into you again. “don’t say things like that.”

“but it’s true?” he can hear the smirk in your tone without raising his gaze.

his voice is muffled once again as he responds, “don’t care.”

“seems like you do.” you drawl, voice oddly sing-song in the quiet of the evening.

“shut up.”

Thinking About Curling Up In Bed With Your Boy After A Long Day And He Just Squishes His Face To Your

a/n: missing reya hours.

1 year ago

Hi!!!

Could you write jealous!eddie x reader…🫣

I’m down so bad for this man istg

ty for requesting :D i too am down bad for this man — grump!eddie can't believe other people get to look at you (jealous!eddie, established relationship, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie thought the comic book section of Family Video was the coolest thing in the world until he met you. And it’s weird ‘cause now you’re all he can think about. He’s holding a collector’s item in his hands, but all he can see is you — and how close you’re standing to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The boy lays two VHS tapes on the counter before you, each packaged in a thick plastic case. My Neighbor Totoro and The Land Before Time. He waits for you to make an impossible choice while you idle just ahead of him, elbows propped on the countertop with your head in your hands. Your wide-eyed gaze darts between the two options.

Your head shakes between your palms. “I can’t decide,” you conclude, rising to full height with a final huff. “It’s like choosing your favorite child.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have to,” Steve quips with a lopsided smirk. His nose scrunches, and it makes his honey eyes sparkle. “‘Cause you’re getting both. On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, brows pinched in a quiet sort of protest.

He drops the tapes into a plastic bag, then shrugs like his hand slipped. “Too late.”

“Won’t your boss get mad?”

“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,” you agonize, face twisted with every bit of it.

Steve meets your worry with a wider, pink grin. He bounces a shoulder and jostles the nametag pinned haphazardly to his emerald vest. “I’ll be fine, alright? I’m strong— I can take one of Keith’s stupid lectures.”

Your hesitant fingers brush his golden ones when you take the bag from him. “You’re so brave, Steve Harrington,” you lilt with a teasing glint in your eye, tilting your cheek to your shoulder to feign sincerity.

“The bravest, actually,” the boy jokes in return.

Eddie watches all this play out from where he lingers at the comic book stand. A whole rack of his favorite superheroes, and he isn’t paying an ounce of attention to a single one. 

He was only halfway listening at first, still mostly focused on the cartoon in his hands — if only to pretend he wasn’t completely eavesdropping on your conversation. But now he’s outright staring the two of you down, with an unabashed glare pointed at the asshole flirting with his girl. 

“God, he’s disgusting,” Eddie grumbles under his breath when Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He’s not talking totally to himself. Not entirely, anyway. Dustin’s crouched just beside him in search of one of the newer comics that he swears Keith is hiding from him. “He’s just being nice,” the curly-haired boy reasons with a shrug, obviously distracted as he flips through a stack of flimsy magazines.

Eddie scoffs and finally turns away from you to look at the boy below him. He blinks for the first time in several minutes as he shoots the kid a deadpan stare. “Oh, so it’s not because he thinks my girlfriend’s hot?”

“He’s definitely doing it because she’s hot,” Dustin answers without thinking twice.

“Watch it, Henderson.”

“You asked!” he argues, tilting his chin to look up at Eddie with a wide, ocean-eyed stare. “I’m just saying. Steve’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that to you— Now, can you please help me find this stupid comic book before I lose my mind?”

Eddie huffs. He decides it might be healthier to distract himself with this metaphorical treasure hunt than stare daggers at you and Steve from across the room. “Which one are you looking for again?”

“Metamorpho— The original. Not the stupid reprint that just came out.”

The older boy stills. He closes the comic book between his palms with one pale hand until the cover of it flips down. Metamorpho, the vibrant cover reads, The Element Man. He’d been too busy looking at you, he hadn’t realized he’d been hiding the thing from Dustin for five whole minutes.

“Is this it?” Eddie murmurs, shoving the thing in the boy’s face.

Dustin’s head shoots up. He snatches the thing from the boy’s grip and gapes at it, with all his practiced teenage boy dramatics. “You had it the entire time?!” he shouts, but Eddie’s already sauntering to the front counter — where Steve’s still making you laugh. 

As pretty as you are smiling (so much that it makes his chest ache), there’s a simmering anger burning orange in his chest. Making you laugh is his job. Not Harrington’s.

You seem to notice his presence before he’s even wrapped you in his arms. You flash him a beaming grin that makes his stomach whirl. He gets sick with it — with nostalgia or something equally tender. 

The green of his envy starts to fade when he realizes you’re wearing his skull and cross-bones sweater, all bundled up in it like it’s yours. He feels a primal sense of ownership, knowing that you’re swaddled in something that belongs to him, knowing he has you in a way Steve doesn’t. It’s not every day the local freak gets to one-up the king.

“Ready to go?” Eddie grins, rosy and broad, as he wraps his arms around you in a loose, sideways embrace. The warmth of the proximity has your stomach doing backflips. The familiarity of his scent, musky and woody and smoky, makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.

“Yep,” you nod, still smiling. “Steve’s letting me get the movies for free.”

Eddie’s lips smack against his teeth as his jaw drops in a feigned sense of awe. His wild curls bunch at his shoulder when his head tilts softly sideways, looking at the boy across the counter. “Aw,” he croons, high-pitched and sarcastic. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up before I revoke your comic stand privileges.”

Eddie squints. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Munson.”

Eddie, deciding to be the bigger person, chooses to abandon the petty argument. He feels like the bigger person, anyway — like he’s ten feet tall, walking out of Family Video with you under his arm. He could lose a thousand arguments and still feel like a winner as long as he gets to crawl home to you.

You can’t help but notice how weird he’s being, though. There was a foreign bite behind his words as he spat his sarcasm at Steve. The tension follows you even now, as he opens the passenger side door of his van for you. 

Eddie holds onto the rusted latch with a pale, tattooed hand. You turn to face him instead of planting yourself onto the chipping pleather seat. “Are you okay?” you ask, a subtle furrow between your brows when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

The boy scoffs a boyish laugh, obviously overcompensating. “Yeah, I’m fine— what are you talking about?”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”

“I think you’re being weird, doll— interrogating me outta nowhere.” 

He expects you to laugh. Then he could tell you how pretty you are, and you’d be so flustered by the compliment that you’d forget this entire conversation ever happened. You don’t laugh, though. You don’t even crack a smile. You just keep staring at him.

“I’m fine,” Eddie groans, wild curls billowing when a breeze rolls by. He still tries to smile, though the bright pink expression doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He shrugs and tries to play it cool because anything less than that is so not metal. “I’m just… I’m just a little annoyed. That’s all.”

Your chest stings and your stomach starts to ache. Your mind reels as you try to understand what you could’ve done because the oh-so-sensitive you feels like it must be your fault.

“Annoyed at me?” you press in a tiny voice.

“No!” Eddie booms instantly, much louder than you. He quietens, but his face still swirls with protest. He could never be annoyed at you. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. “No— are you kidding? You’re perfect.”

He takes your face in his ringed hands, cradling your cheeks until they squish softly together. A perfect thing, indeed.

“Then what happened?” you mutter through your gently jutted lips.

The boy drops his chin to his chest and sighs. He hates that you care so much about him that you actually make him talk about his feelings. He’d much rather bottle them up and save ‘em for a rainy day. But no, you love him enough to pry the hidden emotion from his cold, black heart.

“I don’t know,” he answers first in an inaudible murmur, kicking at loose pebbles on the concrete because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. “Sometimes it gets annoying when… Other people look at you, I guess…”

He peeks at you beneath his long lashes, button eyes made of chocolate. They swim with a glittering emotion. Something tender and sheepish. He’s like a puppy when he looks at you this way. You can’t help but find him utterly adorable accordingly.

He’s a little surprised when his words make you laugh. He wasn’t joking, really, but he’s relieved to hear the honeyed sound. It runs over him like drops of summer rain and absolves him of all his envy.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can fix that,” you reply, smiling wide between his calloused palms.

“I know,” he whines, pouting softly. “And it sucks. ‘Cause you’re too pretty for your own good.”

You lean further into his warm hand. You blink at him with pretty eyes, and in a pretty voice, you wonder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that I only care when you’re looking at me? And that everyone else is basically invisible when you’re around?”

Eddie’s heart swells so much it starts to ache. You’ve awoken something in him — something that used to be dead before you came around, or something that didn’t exist at all. It’s something golden and made of velvet. Something warm and honeyed. Something that doesn’t have a name because you don’t even know you’ve invented it.

Despite trying not to smile too wide, a beam begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. A second later, and he’s grinning with all his teeth. He gets all shy, ducking his gaze as he nods at you. “Yeah, actually— that does make me feel a little better.”

You beam up at him, all lovesick and stupid. With your cheeks still in his hands, you rise to the tips of your toes and press a smacking kiss to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Eddie figures it doesn’t get more metal than this.

1 year ago

requested by : @flawiette 🫶🏻

Thank you for the request my love

1k celebration prompts list

17 : squeezing their hand when you know they’re stressed about something W/ Eddie Munson

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Yes but what if I failed again, you know how much the old bat hates me?” Eddie sighed, pulling on his curls as he paced the small living space in the trailer.

“There’s no way you failed Eds, 86 baby, it’s your year. You’re gonna graduate!” you tried to comfort him.

“Yeah but how do you know?”

“Because I know how hard you’ve worked. With Wayne, with Dustin, with me. Eddie my god even the nurses that were taking care of you.”

“It’s here!” Wayne said as she pushed through the door, letter in hand. “I’m gonna throw up,” Eddie said, hands on his face.

“Come here,” you said, holding out your hand to him. He took it letting you pull him to the couch besides you.

“No matter what it says, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“But what if-“ you cut him off.

“No what if Baby. I’m so proud of you,” pressing a soft kiss to his cheek you spoke to the older Munson man.

“How about Wayne opens it?” You suggested, squeezing Eddies hand in your own, rubbing soft circles with your thumb.

“Yeah, I can do that? What do you think Son?”He asked Eddie.

“Okay, yeah you do it. Don’t think I could if I tried.”

“Alright then,” Wayne put himself in his worn recliner. He used his thumb to open up the envelope that held all the causes of Eddies anxiety.

“Jesus,” the boy mumbled to himself, knee bouncing non stop. With the hand that wasn’t squeezing his own, you placed it on the knee. “It’s okay,” you said softly.

“Okay, so ‘Dear Mr Edward A. Munson, we are pleased to inform you that you are a member of our 1986 graduates.” Eddies hand squeezed yours in pure joy.

“We congratulate you for all your hard work this year, along with the years prior. We look forward to seeing you on August 2nd to graduate.”

“Holy shit!” Eddie shouted, jumping up from the couch. He wrapped his arms around Wayne hugging him tight. “So proud of you Son.”

“Thanks Old man.”

Wayne handed Eddie the letter, letting the boy scan over it as if it might disappear and have been a dream. “Holy shit.”

He looked up at you, shit eating grin on his face. Pulling you into his arms, he kissed you with passion, “Love you so fucking much,” he laughed.

“I love you too. So proud of you Eds.”

“This!” Wayne took the letter from Eddie. “Is going on the fridge.” The man moved a magnet, letting bills fall to the floor. Along with a familiar photo.

Two figures with dark and crazy curls were smiling. A small boy and a beautiful woman, the boy sat on his mother’s lap, teeth missing. “She’d be so proud of you,” Wayne said, rubbing his eyes.

Using the magnet to stick the photo to the letter, you could feel the warmth of Eddies mom. How proud she’d be of her son.

“Does this mean I’m gonna have to wear one of those stupid hats and gowns?” Eddie said, squeezing you, making you cackle.

Requested By : @flawiette 🫶🏻
2 months ago

“One, two, three…”

“baby, when are you gonna stop.” He flushes.

All of your attention was set on him and his perfect face. The freckles littering his skin, god it made him so beautiful. You never understood how he could hate them.

“Never. You’re so handsome ‘dashi.”

His hands fly to cover his face, an attempt to cover his blushing cheeks.

“No let me look at you.” You peel his hands away and he feels so vulnerable with your doe eyes staring down at him like he’s hung up the stars in the night sky.

“Why do you like them so much.” He grumbles.

“Because it’s apart of you. And I love everything about you.”

His eyes soften at your words.

He truly thinks he doesn’t deserve you, that you’re way out of his league. However all of his thoughts melt away when you lean down and kiss him.

Tadashi thinks that when your lips meet his it’s perfection. That the both of you were molded for eachother. And when you kiss him with such tenderness and love.

He thinks there’s no one else better for you than him.

And there’s no one better for him than you.

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