When Steve Agrees To Help Eddie Fix Up His New Place, Eddie Is Delighted.  

A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....

Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.

And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.

He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.

Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP

hi, lovely! 💫

first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!

second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.

i hope you enjoy!

matches

pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader

word count: 3974

warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!

please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic

a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible. 

You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through. 

Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt. 

You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice. 

You never knew. 

You never actually met him.

All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you. 

Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are. 

You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match. 

You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got. 

Until the day you finally met Bucky. 

It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself. 

You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in. 

It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up. 

You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time. 

All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room. 

By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right? 

A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong. 

Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person. 

"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips. 

"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you. 

His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it. 

"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand. 

"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."

You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."

"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours. 

"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.

"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?" 

"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.

"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."

You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so. 

So, you agreed. 

And that's how everything started. 

You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did. 

Only yourself. 

When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes. 

Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them. 

Except for when it came to Bucky. 

You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.

When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him. 

Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became. 

You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were. 

It was driving Bucky crazy.

From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you. 

He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss. 

Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips. 

He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive. 

The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party. 

He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.

You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was. 

With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear. 

Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner. 

You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence. 

“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him. 

A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him. 

“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened. 

You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing. 

“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?” 

He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face. 

“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you. 

You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again. 

“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss. 

“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.” 

You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.” 

“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”

“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short. 

“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-” 

“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”

“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again. 

“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”

“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice. 

“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands. 

“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”

“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion. 

“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough. 

“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered. 

“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him. 

“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words. 

“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears. 

Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that." 

"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised. 

You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful." 

He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.

"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?" 

You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out. 

He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality." 

"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words. 

"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?" 

"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself. 

"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you. 

"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you." 

"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?" 

"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh. 

"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle. 

"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper. 

"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly. 

"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect." 

You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly. 

He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances." 

"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you. 

"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you. 

"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him. 

"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face. 

"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch. 

"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely. 

You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances." 

Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up. 

You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it. 

He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.

Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.

So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.  

You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?" 

He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully. 

"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.

"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you. 

You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes." 

"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor. 

And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure. 

You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.

Eddie Munson x Reader

Mechanic

Summary- When Y/N's truck breaks down on the side of the road in Hawkins, she calls a mechanic, who happens to be Eddie Munson, and he comes to her rescue.

Trigger warnings- talk of injury, cussing

Word count-2.3

"No, please no, not now!" Y/N cries as her truck comes to a sputtered stop. She drops her head onto her hands that rest on the steering wheel, willing herself not to cry. Her day could not get any worse. A strange noise made the girl raise her head from her hands, seeing the engine emitting black smoke from under the hood. Spoke too soon, Y/N thinks to herself.

The upset young adult throws her truck door open, stepping out of the vehicle, but not before popping the hood open. She walks to the front of the truck and opens the hood to look at the damage. She props the hood on the hood strut, waiting for the smoke to clear so she can get a better look at the engine.

The girl has some knowledge of cars, only learning how to fix some problems because of her truck. The truck was older than her, meaning she got it from her parents before they moved halfway across the world, but not before mentioning all the problems the old vehicle has, just as they were walking to the plane, stunning the poor girl.

"Stupid piece of shit! Shoulda scraped you with the rest of dad's shit vehicles!" Y/N yelled at the truck, kicking the tire while she ranted. In turn, the truck let out a whine, almost as if it was replying to the flustered girl.

She went back to looking at the engine, sticking her hand down into the heart of the truck, but quickly pulled it back when the hot metal burned her hand, leaving a nasty red mark on the back of her hand. The girl kneeled down, her hand still sitting on the truck where the hood sits. Her left hand rested over her eyes as she took deep breaths, trying to figure out what to do.

Deep in thought, the girl didn't hear the sound of the hood strut snapping in two, causing the heavy metal hood to fall, landing on her burned hand. Y/N cried out as she shot up from her kneeling position, opening the hood as fast as she could to get it off her hand. Once it was finally off, she cradled her clearly broken hand to her chest, letting a single tear fall down her face.

Y/N slammed the hood closed, cussing under her breath as she got back into the cab of her truck, cranking the key with her left hand, seeing if by some miracle the vehicle would start, but to no avail. The truck sputtered slightly before going silent, refusing to turn on. Y/N sighed, looking at her surroundings, and seeing a gas station not very far up the road. She grabbed the keys out of the ignition, picked up her wallet, and exited the truck, slamming the door with force, making the metal groan when it hit the frame. Y/N didn't even care, she just started her walk to the gas station, cradling her hand to her chest.

When the angry young woman got to the station, she saw a pay phone, walking into the building to ask the clerk a question. "Welcome to John's quick stop gas station and cafe, how can I help you?" The older clerk asked from behind the counter when Y/N stepped up.

"Yeah hi. Do you have the number for a mechanic in town? My truck broke down, then decided it wanted to break my hand with the hood. Someone reliable would be preferred, please." She said, resting her hand on the counter. The sixty-something-year-old clerk gave her a worried smile, before she wrote something down on a sticky note, handing it across the counter.

"This is the best shop we have in Hawkins, but ask for Eddie Munson, he won't charge you an arm and a leg to fix your car. Payphone is right out there. Come back inside when you get off the phone and I'll get you something for your hand darlin'." The sweet clerk said to the younger woman, smiling sympathetically at her. Y/N smiled at her, walking out to the payphone to call the number on the paper.

Y/N dialed the number, putting the phone up to her ear, waiting for someone to answer.

"Greasy hands car mechanic, this is Eddie speaking." Y/N heard a deep voice say on the other end.

"Yeah, is this Eddie Munson?" She asked in her best phone voice.

"Sure is, sweetcheeks. What can I do for you today?" The guy said on the other end.

"Yeah, my truck broke down and I need a mechanic. I was told you're the best in town. Do you think you could come out and tow my truck for me?" She asked, hoping the clerk was right about him not charging tons for a fix.

"Sure can. I just need your location and name and I'll be out with a tow truck in no time." 'Eddie' said to Y/N, causing her to sigh out in relief. She proceeded to give him her location, thanking him before hanging the phone up. Y/N then walked back into the gas station, smiling at the clerk as she disappeared into the back, only to emerge a few seconds later with an ice pack for her hand.

"Go on and get yourself a drink and something to eat, it's covered darlin'." The clerk smiled at Y/N, shooing her to find something she liked in the store.

"Thank you so much. You're so sweet." Y/N said when she found what she wanted. As the older lady turned around, she fished some money out of her wallet, placed it on the counter for her, and walked out the door to sit and wait for this 'Eddie' guy to show up.

"Oh, you sneaky little thing!" The clerk said once she turned around and saw the money on the counter, but nonetheless put it in the cash register.

~*~

Y/N sat on the tailgate of her truck, eating the sandwich and drinking the soda she grabbed, watching the different cars drive by.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only half an hour, she saw the tow truck pull up, backing up to her truck to hook it up. The driver's side door opened, and out stepped a guy not much older than Y/N, walking over to her. He had long, curly hair that just hit his shoulders, framing his face perfectly. He wore a grey uniform, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing a bat tattoo on his left arm.

"You must be Y/N?" He asked, receiving a nod from said girl. "I'm Eddie. What seems to be going on with this thing?" He asked, walking to stand in front of Y/N to talk.

"I'm not sure. It just died on me. I just replaced the carburetor and fuel line less than a month ago, so it's not that. I'm not sure what it could be, to be honest." Y/N said, looking at Eddie as he nodded his head.

"Well, let's get it back to the shop and I'll have a peek at it for you." The long-haired man said, smiling lightly at Y/N. She nodded her head, letting him do his stuff.

Once the truck was hooked up and in position on the back of the tow truck, Eddie told Y/N to get into the passenger side. She did as told, closing the door and buckling her seatbelt. Eddie got into the driver's seat not long after, starting the vehicle up and putting it into gear.

Neither Eddie nor Y/N talked for a while on the way to the shop, sitting in silence, the only sound coming from the tape Eddie had put into the tapedeck on his drive over. Y/N sat, still cradling her injured hand to her chest, trying her best to stop the throbbing pain she felt in it. Eddie noticed this, and questioned her about it.

"What'd ya do to your hand?" He asked, taking a quick glance at the girl next to him.

"Oh, I'm pretty positive I broke it. I was looking in the engine earlier and stuck my hand down into it, but got burnt so I kneeled down with my hand still on the truck, and the stupid hood strut snapped in half, causing the hood to fall on my hand. I shoulda scrapped the piece of shit a long time ago." Y/N replied, snorting softly at the end.

"Well, are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital or something to get that looked at?" Eddie asked, concern lacing his deep voice.

"Nah, I'm fine. I can wait a while." Y/N simply countered, gently resting her hand down on her jean-covered thighs.

~*~

"Well, it looks like the alternator and a few spark plugs went out. I took a look at the rest of the engine and the oil filter and water pump are going out. The engine looks like it's about fifty years old, so everything is running on its last legs. I would suggest a whole new engine at this point." Eddie said to Y/N, gauging her reaction.

"What happens if I don't do the whole new engine?" She asks, standing at the counter, looking at Eddie, who stood on the other side, behind the counter. She was watching Eddie with interested eyes, her eyes scanning his face, down his neck then back up, looking at the bun he had thrown his hair into when he got back to the shop.

"Well, if you don't replace it, everything is just going to keep going out, giving you problems, making it harder for the truck to run until it just stops altogether like it did today." Eddie explained, waiting for the girl to reply.

"If I replace it, how much are we talking it'll cost?" She questioned, scared of his answer.

"We're lookin' at around three grand. But that's with new everything. The whole engine will be brand new, right from the factory." Y/N eyes widened, a heavy sigh falling from her lips. She rubbed her left hand on her forehead, thinking everything over. "But, I can make a couple calls, see where you can buy a new engine at the best price here in town. I know a few people that will give me a good price on one." Y/N nodded her head, Eddie pulling out some papers from a filing cabinet behind him, and starting to write on them

"Alright, I guess we'll have to do that, I don't have much of a choice here. When can you start on that?"

"I'll have to call a few people and as soon as I do that, and determine where the engine will come from, it will take about a week, two at the most to get it in, swap the engines out and tune the new one to your truck. I can work fairly quickly once the engine gets here. I can start today, pulling the engine out and seeing what I can save from it to maybe sell, get you a little bit of cash from what is salvageable, scrap the rest of the engine and get money off of that too. Let me finish this paperwork and I'll do that. Do you have someone that can pick you up, take you to get that hand looked at?" Eddie asked, pointing his pen at her bruising hand.

"Um, no I don't have anyone. I was just moving here when my truck broke down. I don't know anyone here. Do you have a phone book I could use to call a cab?" Y/N asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

"No, I'm not gonna make you call a cab. It's actually passed quitting time for me, this is all overtime. I can take you to the hospital and take you to your place after." Eddie explained, smiling up at Y/N, making butterflies erupt in her stomach. Said girl nodded her head, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

~*~

"Alright, what's your new address so I can drop you off?" Eddie asked once Y/N got back into his van from the hospital, a dark blue cast on her right hand.

"Um, you can just drop me off at a motel, I don't actually have a place to live yet." Y/N said, a blush once again creeping up her cheeks.

"What? I can't let a pretty girl like yourself stay in a random motel here! You can stay with me. My uncle works nights so he's not home at night and sleeps through the day when he gets home, so he won't mind."

"No, I can't let you do that. I'll be fine in a motel, you've already done so much for me." Y/N said, giving Eddie a very faint smile.

"Please, I insist. It would make me feel better knowing such a beautiful girl like yourself is safe at my place, not in some creepy ass motel in the middle of town. Just let me take care of you. I mean, after all, you're making my paycheck with your broken-down truck. It's the least I can do. Please?" Eddie begged, trying to convince the girl in front of him. If he was being totally honest with himself, he just didn't want to let Y/N go, he found her incredibly beautiful and sweet. He wanted to get to know her more, maybe take her on a date. But he wouldn't admit that out loud.

"Okay, I'll stay at your place. But you have to let me cook for you. It will be my way of saying thank you, even though it's not much. And I won't take no for an answer!" Y/N said, a smile pulling on her lips. Eddie nodded his head, agreeing to what she said, deciding it wouldn't be so bad to have a homecooked meal instead of the same microwave meals he has every night.

"Yeah alright. I can live with that. Now, if you're going to be living with me, I need to know a bit about you. Tell me about yourself, pretty lady." Eddie said, looking over at the girl next to him, a smile of his own on his lips. Y/N looked down, her smile widening as she shook her head, starting to tell Eddie about herself.

Can I request a fluffy Joseph Quinn x fem. reader long oneshot where it’s Joseph’s Birthday and reader surprises Joseph with a present and inside the wrapped present is a sonagram picture and a baby onesie that has a special message on it?

( I know exactly what I want the onesie to say, so I will send you a picture of what I want it to say.) ☺️❤️

ofc! sorry I got back to you so late

here's the onesie

happy birthday - j.q. x fem!reader

You looked down at your stomach and beamed. Anxiety filled your body but you knew deep down that Joseph would be elated. 

You grinned as you heard footsteps, casting a few last minute glances at the table.

“Happy Birthday, Joey!” you exclaimed, as Joseph stepped down the stairs groggily.

“Aw, thank you, love,” he croaked, he gave you a lopsided grin as he wrapped his arms around you. “Wow, you did not have to do all this. It’s five am, baby, why were you up so early?”

“Shut up and eat,” you laughed, guiding him to the table.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, nodding. He sat down and began eating. “I should just fake sick. Stay home all day with you.”

“No, Joe, you have to go today. I still have some things to set up!” you exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder. You looked down once more before sitting down next to Joe.

+++

It was late. About nine pm. You heard the garage open. You quickly put out the couple boxes of gifts, putting the most important one in the certain. You were practically shaking with nerves.

“Hellooo!” exclaimed Joseph, walking into the living room nonchalantly. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re shaking. What’s going on? Are you cold?” he asked, rubbing your arms.

“No, no, I’m fine!” you insisted. “Are you ready to open presents?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, beaming. He sat down.

One by one, you handed him the presents.

“One left, okay?” you said, handing him the present.

“Okay,” he said, smiling eagerly. He gently pulled the wrapping paper off the gift to reveal a box. He grabbed the pocket knife that you had brought over and cut open the box and pulled out the small cloth that was inside. His face scrunched up and he unfolded it. He read it and dropped it almost a second later. His eyes were impossibly wide and his jaw was hanging open.

Your eyes filled with tears – happy tears – and you nodded. He jumped up, beaming widely. 

“Oh my god,” he whispered, his throat and eyes stinging from the tears. “Oh my god, Y/N! We’re going to– we’re parents!”

“Yeah!” you exclaimed, crying happily into his arms. He picked you up and spun you around.

“We’re parents!” he repeated, some tears falling down his cheeks as he beamed widely.

That episode of Friends, where they try on the wedding dresses. Well, Robin and Steve decide to make themselves feel better as they have yet to ask out their perspective crushes, so they decided to rent wedding dresses. Well, a suit for Robin. Steve and Robin are playing toss the bouquet when someone knocks on the door. Steve grabs the bouquet and answers the door.

"I do!" Steve exclaimed.

Eddie stood there, stunned for a moment, and then he grinned.

"No one told me I would be marrying Steve Harrington today!" Eddie exclaimed. "I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion."

"It's okay, I shouldn't really be wearing white. I'm not a virgin, and you totally knocked me up outside of wedlock," Steve told him.

"Well, I can't let my baby become a bastard, now can I?" Eddie grinned and flounced up the stairs. "I'm going to change!"

A moment later, Eddie came down in one of his mother's slightly poofy red dresses and holy shit. He looked good in it, especially with his hair pulled into a messy bun.

"Well, come on, let's get this wedding started," Robin said. "I'm officiating."

Eddie and Steve stood in front of her, holding hands.

"Alright, Buckley, let's get this wedding started," Eddie said.

"Mwawiage -," Robin started.

Just then, the front door opened, and the kids came stumbling into the living room, rambling about wanting Steve to take them to the big arcade out of town that just opened up. They stopped and stared at the scene before them.

"I can explain!" Steve said.

"Are you eloping without telling us?!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Well, it's more of a shotgun wedding," Eddie explained.

"What?"

"Apparently, I got your babysitter pregnant," Eddie said.

"Mike! You told me that guys cannot get pregnant!" El hissed. "Friends don't lie!"

Oh, boy.

For a few weeks, Claudia thinks that she’s collecting her son from the hospital after he’s visited Max Mayfield.

Then she finds out that’s only partly the truth.

Usually Dustin’s already waiting in the parking lot for her, Steve by his side. They chat, Steve insisting that he could drive Dustin home, it’s no trouble, and Claudia thanks him for the offer, kindly refuses; the poor boy looks run ragged these days.

One day neither of them are there, so she heads inside. There’s still a long line at reception, the aftermath of the earthquake, so she finds a nurse in a corridor, describes Dustin—my boy, about this high, curly hair (smiles like the sun, she wants to add)—and the nurse smiles, says, “Follow me, ma’am.”

She has a passing thought that this isn’t the direction to Max’s room, but reasons that she must’ve been moved. The nurse leaves her at the door before being called away.

Claudia opens the door quietly.

It’s not Max who’s in the bed.

She recognises him from the posters—his eyes first, then his long hair. He’s holding a battered copy of The Hobbit, the spine broken, and he’s reading so softly that she can’t quite make out the words.

And there, lying so peacefully against Eddie Munson’s shoulder, is Dustin. He’s fast asleep.

Eddie’s got an arm around him, and he’s slowly running his fingers through Dustin’s hair the way she used to when he was little, to help him drift off.

He looks up from his book at the sound of her entering the room, and his face goes as white as the bedsheets.

She takes one step forward.

Eddie inhales, breath stuttering, and it’s a fragile, heartbreaking sound.

Dustin stirs. “Hmm? Wha’s wrong?” He lifts his head up from Eddie’s shoulder, and his eyes meet Claudia’s, and he’s suddenly wide awake, scrabbling upright. “Mom.”

Eddie’s mouth keeps moving, like he’s desperately searching for words. “I-I’m not—” His breathing catches again, eyes wide; Claudia realises, with a heavy heart, that he’s deeply afraid of her. “It’s just a stupid board game, I swear.”

“Mom,” Dustin says again. Pleading.

And of course, Claudia never once believed the frenzied cries about Satanic rituals. Still, throughout that awful Spring Break, knowing that her son was lying to her, all she could think was that she was once a teenager, too—remembered how easy it could be to get caught up in something scary, something beyond your control.

She looks into Eddie Munson’s eyes, and knows deep in her bones that she has nothing to fear from him.

She beckons Dustin over, hands him the car keys.

“There’s a pillow on your seat, hon,” she says softly, because there’s a sleepy haze returning to his eyes despite his obvious concern for Eddie.

Dustin blinks, so unsure.

She smiles reassuringly. It’s okay. I promise.

“Okay,” Dustin says slowly, and he looks back at Eddie, raising his eyebrows like he wants to convince him of something. “See you tomorrow, Eddie.”

Eddie nods, but doesn’t speak.

He lifts his hand in a weak wave as Dustin leaves. It’s shaking. Claudia sits down by the bed. Puts her hand in his.

Eddie stares at her.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry for what we did to you.”

Eddie shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You didn’t—” He clears his throat. “It wasn’t you.”

Claudia shakes her head, too, slowly—prays that he can really hear this. “No, no, please. Listen to me. I’m so sorry.”

It would be an easy thing to say, that the town of Hawkins wronged Eddie Munson. But that would make it sound so impersonal: like it was inevitable, just one of these tragic things that happened, nothing to be done about it. Like earthquakes.

But that wasn’t true. People were behind this, and Claudia knows that they are all the town, every single one of them. And what did it say about them, that the fear and mistrust and cruelty spread like wildfire? That not one adult in the town hall stood up, begged people to stop, to think again?

“Th-thank you,” Eddie says. It sounds so uncertain, almost like a question.

Claudia squeezes his hand. “You were with Dustin, weren’t you?” she asks. “When the earthquake…”

His hand is shaking again.

“Yes,” he whispers. “I-I’m sorry, I—” He swallows. “I didn’t want a-anything to happen to him.”

“Oh, honey.” She reaches out cautiously, and when he doesn’t freeze up, she cups his cheek; her heart breaks at the rough indent of a scar beneath her palm. “You’re not God.”

Eddie reaches up, pressing her hand further against his cheek. He’s crying.

Claudia wipes his tears away as much as she can. She keeps up a steady murmur: “Shh, shh. I know you kept him as safe as you could. I know, I know. Shh.”

When he starts to calm, she thanks him again, but for something lighter.

“Dusty… he was so nervous, starting high school. But his first day, when I picked him up, all he could talk about was getting invited to have lunch with… well, a club.” Claudia smiles. “Oh, he was talking a mile a minute, I could hardly keep up. But I… oh, Eddie, I understand now. That was you.”

Eddie grins back. His cheeks are still wet.

“I didn’t do much,” he says. “You’ve…” For a moment, his eyes fill up again, but they look like happy tears. “You’ve got some kid, Mrs Henderson. He’s—he’s a real gem.”

She laughs. “Oh, I know.”

It’s one of the many things she loves about Dustin: that he’s always been so unashamedly, so joyously himself.

And Eddie had clearly seen that in him, had taken him in and nurtured everything that made him so.

The door abruptly slams open.

Steve’s in the doorway; he must’ve been running, is still gasping for breath as he says, panicked, “Claudia, I can—”

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, and that’s all.

But it’s clearly enough, because Steve’s shoulders drop in relief, and then he’s shutting the door, coming to Eddie’s bedside like he belongs there, and Eddie’s smiling at him, so tenderly…

And oh, she was young, once. She knows what she’s looking at.

Of course, she doesn’t mention it, can still sense some residual anxiety radiating from them.

Instead she looks around the room, spots a pile of laundry in the corner. It’s been stuffed into a bag; she recognises that as belonging to Steve, but there’s some shirts in there that are definitely Eddie’s, entwined with Steve’s things.

She stands, but before she can even pick up the bag, it seems like Steve’s read her mind, because he’s stepping forward, stopping her with a touch to her forearm.

“Oh, you don’t have to—I’m taking care of it, Claudia.”

She pats his cheek, lingers there until he smiles. “I know, sweetheart. But… would you let me? It’s the least I can do.”

Eddie reaches up from the bed, squeezes Steve’s elbow. Steve sighs, briefly leaning into him.

“Okay,” he says. “That’s… thank you.”

“As long as you do one thing for me.”

“Of course,” Steve says immediately. “Anything.”

Claudia brings out a notepad and pen from her bag. “Write me a list? Anything you’d like, I’ll be shopping anyway.” She looks Steve in the eyes, adds firmly but with a smile, “It’s no trouble.”

Steve takes the notepad, twirls the pen hesitantly.

“Anything you’d like,” Claudia repeats. She glances at Eddie, says, “You know, if you want a different shampoo than what they have here, things like that, or—”

“Oh, uh, it’s okay,” Eddie says quickly. “Whatever’s on sale is—”

“I know, honey,” Claudia says patiently, “but what would you actually like?”

The last extended hospital stay she’d had was fifteen years ago; Dustin had been a preemie, and one of the few things that kept her calm was the familiar: scents, food, people…

Steve chuckles. “I’ve got it.” He writes on the notepad, and Eddie must be able to read it, because he suddenly turns a little pink.

“How did you know that?”

Steve shrugs, smiles. “I notice things.” He writes down just a couple more things, then hands the list back. “Thank you so much, Claudia.”

“Any time, sweetie, I mean it.” She hugs Steve goodbye, then reaches one last time for Eddie’s hand on the bedspread. “It was lovely to meet you, Eddie. Hope you can go home soon.”

“Yeah, me—me too. Thank you, Mrs Hend—” Steve squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie stops. Smiles. “Thank you, Claudia.”

She looks back once to shut the door behind her. Steve’s pulling up a chair, as close as he can get, and as the door closes, she hears him tut softly, gently swiping at the remaining trail of tears on Eddie’s face: “Hey, what—?”

They look like they belong together. Dustin’s boys.

Dustin’s asleep in the car, pillow pressed against the window. Claudia puts the bag of laundry in the trunk before quietly slipping into her seat.

Dustin wakes anyway as they drive out of the parking lot. “Eddie… okay?”

“He is, honey. Steve’s with him.”

“Mm… good.” There’s a pause, and Claudia thinks he’s fallen asleep again, but then he says, tentative, “Mom?”

“Yes, Dusty?”

“If I tell you something… d’you promise to keep it private?”

“As long as it’s not hurting anyone.”

“It’s not,” Dustin says firmly. “Um. Steve and Eddie, I think… I think they’re…”

Claudia smiles, nods encouragingly. “Oh, that’s lovely.”

Dustin hums in agreement. “They’ve not told me. Did I… do something wrong?”

“No, baby. You just keep doing what you’re doing.” Claudia feels a lump in her throat. “You’re a good friend.”

Dustin makes an uncertain noise.

“You are, baby. They love you very much, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Dustin sighs. “I know.” His eyes are closing.

“Sorry, baby, just before you sleep—are there any candies Steve and Eddie like?”

Dustin nods. “Eddie likes anything sweet. An’ Steve…” He yawns. “Anything w’peanut butter.”

“Great. Thank you, honey.”

Dustin’s already asleep.

Claudia knows that even with what she’s learned today, she still only has half a story, if that. That there’s something more to Dustin’s exhaustion, to just how Eddie ended up in a hospital bed.

Today, she’ll do all she can. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. Laundry and shopping, reading the brand of shampoo Steve wrote with a careful eye. She’ll fill her cart up with treats, things that won’t solve anything; they might make staying in that hospital room just a little easier, though. Make it feel a little warmer, a little more like home.

But first, she’ll take her boy home; she’ll park the car as close to the front door as she can get, and when he doesn’t stir, she’ll run a hand through his hair, gently put him to bed.

Stop, that was so cute!

Can I request Joseph Quinn being obsessed with the way you smell. Like your hair , body , perfume , after shower , before going out etc. And sometimes hugs you to smell you in public but in private he moves your hair out of your neck so he can smell you there and place a kiss there✨✨

stop i love this ima make it so fluffy 🥹

p.s , instead i’m going to make a few different blurbs just if him showing how much he loves you 🙏🏼 (if that makes sense)

joe and his ways of love ⇿ j.q <3

summary; your boyfriend, joseph, is obsessed with the way you smell, or maybe he’s just obsessed with you in general.

warnings; prepare for the fluff

pair; joseph quinn x fem!reader (she/her)

genre; fluff

PLEASE DO NOT TAKE OR COPY MY WRITING without permission - which you don’t!

you take out your keys to unlock your front door then open it, immediately seeing joseph run up to you to take all of the grocery bags out of your hands.

“come, come inside.” joe says eagerly.

he sets all the bags down by the counter to quickly went to hug you before you walked away. “i missed you, lovie.” he smiles, littering a few kisses on your neck.

“i miss you too, baby,” you give him a soft smile. “i’ve been gone not even an hour!” you giggle.

“i know but,” he nuzzles his face into your neck. “i don’t care. i missed you.” you hear his muffles.

you move his head into your view. “kiss.” you demand. he gives you a kiss without wasting any time.

“i want to cuddle.” joseph announces like a baby. “okay, love. only a little while.”

you walked into your bedroom with a towel around your body, looking into a mirror to comb your hair.

you look and see joseph pouting behind you in the mirror. “what’s with the face?” you continue to comb your hair.

“you didn’t cuddle with me.” he looked away. “you could’ve joined me.” you mentioned with a small laugh.

“no. i didn’t want to get wet.” he rolled his eyes. “okay, then.. i guess you’re going to have to deal with it.” he got up and walked over to you. he stood beside you watching you brush your hair.

“ugh.” he crossed his arms. “what now?” you turn your head to look at him.

“nothing,”

“stop being a pouty baby.” you jokingly but gently push him.

joseph’s jaw dropped in shock, with a smile. “just c’mere.” he crouched and ran for your legs, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“ay! joseph! put me down!” you kicked your legs and started throwing your arms around while laughing. he sat you on the bed and crawled on top of you, kissing your chest up to your jawline.

“all i wanna do is lay with you, okay?” he rested his face on your chest and closed his eyes. “fine.” you smiled, twirling his curls in between your fingers.

joseph and you go out to the cafe just around your flat, seriously hoping no paparazzi would show up.

“lovely, innit?” joseph looked around inside the small building.

“definitely.” you smile, looking down to grab ahold of his hand to place your fingers in between his.

he walks over to the counter and orders a piece of your favorite cake, along with his favorite type of tart.

you continue to look around, noticing a group of people outside looking through the window.

you sigh and nudge joseph’s shoulder as a gesture to look through the window.

“ay,” he turns back to the person taking the order. “actually make that to-go, please.”

you both grab your items off the counter and he drags you outside, not thinking much of it but just to get away from the people. he walked past all the people who were attempting to take pictures and ask questions but he ignored them all.

the both of you turn to this alley way, hoping no one would end up seeing joseph there.

you leaned against the wall and ate a few bites of your cake. joseph looked over to you and admired your face.

he had a light shade of pink cover his cheeks. “is there something on my face?” you ask, using your free hand to try to wipe away any crumbs.

“no. no, nothing is on your face.” he smiled and slightly bent down to attach his lips to yours. you immediately kiss him back, cupping his face with your hand.

“what’s wrong, love?” you pulled away and placed your forehead against his. “hm? nothing is wrong, i just love you.”

“i love you too.” you smile and give him a peck.

“can we go home, so we can cuddle?” he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tightly. “yes, yes please.”

i wasn’t sure how i should write this but i hope it’s okay :,) currently my requests are closed because i am writing two others but they will be open again soon! ilysm 🫶🏼

reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated <3.

[While decorating the Christmas tree]

Steve: Why is everybody using these tiny little lights nowadays? I remember when people used to use big lights.

Natasha: That's a good story, Grandpa.

He’s very cool and mysterious, he’s not a sad boy at all, he swears.

Found this on pinterest and I just couldn't share it with anyone yet I wanted to share it so here I am posting it on tumblr.

Happy 10th Anniversary To The Superior MCU Movie