#And Steve can’t seem to choose who he wants because he wants BOTH

[imfinereallyy]

Steve and Eddie don’t get together for awhile—in fact it takes them longer than most people expect. It’s not filled with miscommunication and longing though. Instead it’s a slow build to falling in love.

Steve and Eddie do grow close after the spring break from hell. In fact, they would come to consider each other best friends (second only to Robin, as under the friendship agreement she made Eddie sign). But they fall into an easy sort of friendship, finding more things in common than just the kids eventually. They share a love of weird, eclectic movies, cars, weird food recipes, and even books. They teach each other about the stuff neither one would ever dream to be interested in.

Eddie learns about sports intensely. To the point, he joins a softball league with Steve and Robin (she is only team manager, there to look at the pretty girls who signed up).

Steve learns all about music. To the point he wants to learn an instrument. He wants to learn guitar at first, wanting to share Eddie’s love for it but finds it’s not for him. Instead, he takes up the drums, much to Robins's reluctance.

It’s simple between them, despite their history (both upside down and non-upside down alike). It’s not something Steve has with anyone else, seeing as most of his friendships involve a complexity that he can’t even understand himself.

It goes on for years, supporting each other through nightmares, heartbreak, grief (Eddie), and a sexuality crisis (Steve). They get tattoos together, take odd classes at the rec center together, and eventually share an apartment together with Robin in Chicago.

Robin tries to convince Steve for years there is something between him and Eddie. But Steve denies it, and he really means it.

Eventually life changes, their friendship stays strong but things are bound to take new shape.

Steve moves out to live with his boyfriend of a year. Eddie helps him, even cooks dinner for the two of them in their new apartment. They’re all friends, they hangout all the time.

Months pass, things seem okay, fine. Then, a year and change passea. Things are a little sour. Steve and Eddie’s friendship stays strong, but Steve seems to have problems with his boyfriend. Eddie listens because he cares; he loves Steve, and Steve loves him. They’re best friends; they would do anything for each other.

Including telling your best friend that maybe this guy isn’t good for him.

Steve doesn’t react poorly, just small. He shrinks in on himself. Like he knows Eddie’s right but doesn’t want to agree. Instead, Steve smiles sadly and moves on.

But Eddie doesn’t hear from Steve for a month.

It drives him insane; they haven’t gone that long without talking since Eddie was in a temporary coma. He’s worried he might have cost himself a best friend. Robin had moved in with her girlfriend a month before his talk with Steve, so Eddie was left to his own devices in his new one-bedroom apartment. Spiraling about Steve.

Robin said he was fine, and Eddie should believe her but he can’t help but worry.

He almost cracked and went to Steve’s apartment, keys in his hands ready to storm the castle.

Except….

When Eddie throws his apartment door open, there’s Steve, hand raised, ready to knock.

He looks exhausted, with two bags under his eyes and one bag in his hand.

“Hi.” Is all he managed to croak out before falling into Eddie’s arms, which had been open and ready for the sweet boy.

After the crying had calmed down and they had moved to the couch, Steve explained everything.

How Eddie had been right, Steve and his boyfriend weren’t good for each other. How he had been isolated from everyone except Eddie and Robin. How the last month, the fighting had only escalated. How things had slipped from just arguments to unforgivable words and actions.

How Steve was worried that everyone would choose his boyfriend instead of him.

Eddie rushed to ease his worries and offered to beat the guy up. It made Steve laugh.

Steve tells him he doesn’t have anywhere to go, but he’ll get out of his hair. Maybe go to Robin’s.

Eddie insisted Steve stayed and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

That’s when things start to slowly change.

Steve promises to look for a new place right away, Eddie says it’s no rush.

The first night, Steve tries to sleep on the couch, but Eddie pushes him to the bedroom, insisting they can share. It’s not like they haven’t before; it’s nothing new.

Except it is.

Suddenly, the days pass, and Eddie can’t fall asleep unless Steve is beside him. And Steve can’t stay asleep if Eddie isn’t there.

It starts off on respectful sides, but pushes into tangled limbs in the middle of the night, to finally just snuggling into each other's arms even before they fall asleep.

Everything else is the same….yet somehow different.

It’s like every little thing they do together brings a new kind of joy. Even boring things like doing the dishes or laundry seem so much better with Steve around.

They start to know each other’s habits, even more so than before, with how little space there is now in the apartment. Steve knows the exact place where Eddie always forgets his keys and the way he stretches his spine when he’s tired versus the way he does when he’s bored.

They fall into a lovely pattern of warmth and a type of love they can’t quite place.

They both don’t talk about it, but Steve ponders on it often. Why it feels so different now? After all these years? It hits him one day that it isn’t because he loves Eddie any less or more than he did a few years ago. No, it’s because they both have grown, and changed from who they used to be.

And so has the love between them.

Steve and Eddie, at 19 and 20, could never have the love they have now for each other, for the type of people they were then. Their love was platonic, wholesome, and what they needed then. Steve could not love the kind of man Eddie was then, and vice versa.

Now though, grown and changed but somehow still the same, their love was something new and bright.

Steve only smiled at the realization, not in any rush to move forward. Just enjoying his time with his Eddie.

Eventually, though, Steve stops looking for a new place, and Eddie never asks him to leave. Everyone refers to the apartment as theirs and not just Eddie’s. Robin stops making sly comments and instead smiles happily, almost fondly, at them when they gravitate toward each other. Eddie asks for Steve’s advice on how to deal with the landlord. Steve opens the mail regardless of whose name is on the front. Months pass, and suddenly, Steve is turning 28, and Eddie has a cupcake with a singular candle on it.

“Make a wish, sweetheart.” Eddie says, the soft glow of the flame lighting up his face.

Steve smiles softly at him and leans in. It’s not a risk, in the end, to kiss Eddie. It should be nerve-wracking and scary to change their friendship. But it’s not—it’s easy.

Their lips are soft as they lightly kiss. Steve whispers against Eddie’s mouth, “Don’t want a wish. I have everything I need.”

Eddie huffs a laugh across Steve’s lips. He says nothing—he doesn’t need to. Instead, Eddie leans in again, capturing Steve’s mouth once more.

[runninriot]

...✍️

“I want that too, y’know. The touching and kissing, everything. But the problem is, that I- I want all that from someone I can’t have. And that sucks.” Steve chuckles bitterly.

Isn’t that funny? That there he is, the wonderful man that stole Eddie’s heart, being just as miserable, just as heartbroken as Eddie is. It’s hysterical, really. Eddie wants to laugh, wants to ask who Steve is talking about. Finds it impossible to think there could be a single person in this world that would pass on the opportunity to be with Steve in all the ways Eddie would kill for.

   “Guess that makes two of us,” Eddie confesses and Steve perks up at his words, opens and closes his mouth as if he, too, doesn’t know if it’s okay to dig deeper.

There’s a sadness in his eyes Eddie thinks must mirror his own; two sets of brown eyes searching for comfort in each other. Eddie feels so small, so angry for Steve and himself because love could be such a beautiful thing but isn’t when the rhythm of your heart doesn’t match the one it’s beating for. When love is a one way road with no exists.

   “What do you mean?” Steve asks but Eddie just shakes his head and smiles weakly, trying to take some of the heaviness away for both their sakes.

People don’t choose to fall in love, it just happens. And when it does, there is always a fifty-fifty chance that your love is requited. That the person you fell for likes you in the same way, wants you just like you want them.

Sadly, Eddie has yet to be one of the lucky ones to experience that. The real thing. And while they are still staring at each other, each wallowing in their own sorrow because being in love hurts – he realises that this is so much more than a stupid crush. That this goes deeper than anything he’s ever felt before. That maybe for the first time in his 25 years on earth he understands what true love feels like. Feels the crushing weight of it. Knows it won’t fade so easily. But-

   “You’ll always have me.”

He can pretend. He can be Steve’s friend even if it hurts. Eddie would rather pull his own heart out than not to have Steve in his life. He’d rather be Steve’s friend than nothing at all.

   “What?” Steve seems confused at his statement and Eddie can’t blame him.

   “I’m sorry you can’t have who you want but you’ll always have me.”

   “Why do you say that?”

   “Because I mean it, Steve. No matter what, you’ll always have me. It might not be enough for you and I get that. But for me, this is everything I need even if I can’t have all I want. You wanna know why I came home so early? Because when you texted me, I realised that I don’t need to be anywhere else, with anyone else.”

    I just wanna be here. With you.

Eddie bites his tongue to stop himself from saying more, knows he’s already said too much. Probably shouldn’t have said any of it.

The confusion in Steve’s eyes turns into something else – anger maybe? Frustration? He pulls away from Eddie, jumps up off the sofa and walks a few steps back.

   “You- you can’t just say things like that, Eddie.”

Eddie hates that there is so much space between them, so he stands too, approaches Steve like he would a scared animal, taking slow steps to close the distance between them.

   “I can’t say the truth?” He doesn’t think about his own words, just lets his emotions take over his brain and mouth, doesn’t care about the consequences.

   “N-no! You can’t just say it like it means more than what you’re actually saying. You’re doing this enigmatic bullshit I never understand because I’m too dumb to read between the lines!”

That causes Eddie to freeze on the spot. He’s only inches away from Steve now, could lift his arms easily to reach out for him. But Steve’s words stop him.

He’s right, isn’t he? Eddie does that a lot. Says only half of what he means or says one thing and means another entirely. He just never realised Steve knew. That he can see right through him.

   “You’re right,” he agrees.

Steve huffs annoyed, rubs his hands roughly over his face.

   “Then tell me what you mean. What you really mean.”

It doesn’t matter now, does it? He already said too much anyway. Steve is already onto him, knows Eddie is playing a game of hide and seek with himself – hiding the truth and seeking for an easy way out. But it’s too late to try and turn this conversation around.

   “What I mean is-“ Eddie takes a deep breath, summons all the courage he can find in himself. “It makes two of us because I feel that same way you do. Wanting someone I can’t have? Because you’re my friend, Steve. I can’t have you the way I want you and that’s fine. It hurts like hell but it’s fine. I can live with that. You’ll never be alone because you’ll always have me as a friend.”

Steve stares at him with eyes full of rage.

   “But I don’t want you as a friend.”

Steve’s words hit him like a fist to the face. But before Eddie can let them sink in and start spiralling about the meaning behind them – Steve not wanting to be friends anymore because of Eddie’s confession, obviously – Steve closes the distance between them in one swift motion, grabs Eddie’s face on either side, looking at him with determination in his eyes.

   “I want you as more than a friend, Eddie.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

hiii im wondering if i could put in a request?? 💕

something like you’re dustin’s older sister and you’ve always despised eddie no matter how hot you thought he was and you two were always bickering at eachother and you guys are like enemies right, one night at a party there’s like this crazyyyy sexual tension between the two of you and you guys can’t help but look at each others lips while arguing with eachother like normal and you guys crash lips and it’s like angry sex and soooo hot!!!

Eddie Munson x Henderson!fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) both Eddie and reader are very degrading towards each other, grinding, Eddie receives a hickey, spanking, anal

You had hated Eddie the moment you laid eyes on him. And he didn’t like you either, telling you as much with absolutely no shame. Too bad you could also dish it out. For once, someone was actually putting Eddie Munson in his place and he just couldn't stand that. Because he was the dungeon master for every campaign, everyone just let him say and do what he wanted because without him, there wouldn't have even been a game. Not you, though.

You were always able to get him right where it hurt and he just couldn't stand it, because for once, you were someone who was hating him for exactly who he was and not who everyone thought him to be. You knew he wasn't some evil devil worshiper who was running a cult and that got under his skin, that you were calling it just like you saw it.

Things between the two of you had gotten really bad when you had started a rival DnD club. The other players wouldn't let you back in because all you did was argue with him and ruin the campaign for them, so what else were you supposed to do, not start your own group?

And when Eddie caught wind that you were trying to convince Dustin to join your club? Well, you might as well have stabbed him in the back because that would have hurt a lot less. Dustin might as well have been his younger brother and now you were stealing him away? Sure, you and Dustin were actually related by blood, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"I'm not doing it, y/n," Dustin told you as he got into your car as you picked him up for school. You didn't even have to speak for your brother to know exactly what you were going to ask. You had been asking for weeks and every time it was the same answer. You weren't really that upset and you understood that it was because he had a special bond with Eddie, but you were his sister, didn't that count for something?

"Making me choose between one of my best friend and my sister is really unfair, you know that?" He asked, throwing his backpack into the floorboard.

"No one's making you choose, Dustin," you shook your head as you put the car in drive. "You have a special bond with Eddie and he made his club first so I guess I can let it slide."

"So you'll stop with your stupid feud?" You didn't think it was that serious, but maybe you weren't seeing the big picture like Dustin. You were only seeing it from your point of view and it seemed like Eddie was the one who was always instigating your arguments.

"Yeah, Dustin," you looked over at him for a brief second before tuning back to the road. "We'll stop."

You hadn't lied when you said those words, but the second you spotted him across the room at a party that Robin had invited you to, your blood was boiling. You didn't think he even knew Steve like that, so you had no idea why he would have been there. Probably the free booze. Definitely the free booze.

You wanted to say something to him, but you weren't sure what. You had promised Dustin, but he wasn't there, so you could say whatever you wanted to Eddie and your little brother never would have known.

"Please don't," Robin whined as she saw what you were about to do. She grabbed onto your arm and tried to hold you back, but your mind was already made up.

You downed the rest of your drink and slammed the cup down onto the coffee table before making a beeline for the metalhead. God, you hated him. And how could you not with his stupid perfect hair and he stupid pretty brown eyes and his stupid pink lips that you wanted to kiss?

You wiped the thought out of your head and continued to walk towards him. It was as if everything had happened in slow motion. In the time you had gotten to the party and gotten your drink, one of your shoes had come untied and you had stepped on it, causing you to fall right onto the floor in front of everyone.

Eddie didn't know what he was doing, but he was quick to help you to your feet. You didn’t know why you were wearing heels when you knew that you’d be drinking, but the damage was already done.

“I don’t need your help,” you told him, trying to push him off of you, but he wouldn’t let you go as your legs were giving out once again.

“Yeah, I can tell,” he rolled his eyes and you hated how you could feel the heat of his hands through your shirt and how his warm brown eyes were filled with concern. “Falling for me, hm?”

“Not even close.”

“Right,” he nodded. “You just can’t hold your liquor.”

“Right on the money, Munson. Guess you’re not as dumb as you look.”

“Can we move this little conversation somewhere else?” Robin asked, appearing by your side. “It’s a little disruptive.”

“The conversation is over,” you grumbled, finally getting Eddie to let go of you. He was about to walk away, but Robin grabbed him by the arm, preventing him from getting too far.

“But it’s not,” she said, also grabbing hold of your wrist. “I think I speak for everyone when I say that you need to talk whatever this is out.” She rested a hand on each of your shoulders and led you up the stairs to the nearest room which just so happened to be a guest room.

“Robin, what are you-” you both said in unison, but she shoved you into the room and both she and Steve stood against the door so neither of you could open it.

You tried to opened it but it wouldn’t budge. You then let Eddie try, but he couldn’t get it either, the effort being no use. You were now stuck until they let you out and you knew that you would have to stay there until you worked things out.

You couldn’t believe you hadn’t seen it sooner. You fell right into your friends’ trap and now you were going to have to stay with the metalhead who you despised.

You sat down on the bed with a sigh then collapsed onto your back, accepting defeat. If you couldn’t get out without reconciling, there was no use in fighting. The bed was actually kind of comfortable so you could have stayed there for quite a while if Eddie didn’t start yapping.

He stood by the door, sipping on the beer that was in his hand and you found yourself letting your eyes take over his body. He was dressed in a cropped band t-shirt and pair of short shorts. He looked good and you almost wanted to tell him as much, but you didn’t want to feed his ego.

He turned to you, setting his beer on the dresser before making his way towards you. He stood in front of you, giving you a view of his great legs and you he to tear your eyes away from him.

“Like what you see?” He asked, his tone becoming very flirty. His pink lips twisted into a smirk and you almost wanted to kiss him. Almost.

“Not in the slightest,” you grimaced. But you did like what you saw. Maybe a little too much.

“Oh sorry, here. Let me give you a better view,” he turned around and purposefully dropped his keys, slowly bending down to pick them up, wiggling his ass as he did so. And damn did he have a great one. Why did you want to look and why did you kind of want to give it a slap? It was right there. All you had to do was reach over and-

“I caught you looking, l/n. You can touch it if you want. I won’t tell anyone,” he winked as he set his keys next to his beer. He then crossed the room and planted himself right next to you so that your thighs were touching. "I bet you've even thought about me naked," he teased his face a little too close to yours for your liking. You could see his brown eyes perfectly and could count every single eyelash if he had stayed there long enough.

And the thing was, you had thought about him naked. Even though you never would have admitted it. Sometimes when you couldn't sleep, you'd use your fingers to entertain you and maybe sometimes your mind would wander to Eddie. Maybe he was hot. But only maybe. There was no way in hell you were going to tell him as much. He didn't deserve to know how much you thought about him.

"It's okay if you have," he assured you. "Because I've thought about you naked. And believe me, in my dreams, you look hot as fuck."

"You're disgusting," you grimaced, but really, it was kind of turning you on. You felt your cheeks getting hot and you turned away from him. "I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man on earth."

"Woah, sweetheart," he put his hands up in defense. "No one said anything about us sleeping together. I was just talking about fantasies."

"And that's all it's going to be, because in case you forgot, Munson, I don't like you." You stood from the bed and stepped away from him, knowing that you only needed one more push and your lips would be on his.

"I don't like you either sweetheart, but I'm just trying to get along with you because of Dustin, because unfortunately, you're related to him."

"What do you have against me? What did I do?"

"Nothing, actually," he replied, leaning back on his hands, crossing one leg over the other. He was looking hotter by the second and you needed to turn away before you did something stupid. "I just like pushing your buttons. But you clearly seem to hate me. Wanna share with the class?"

"You're arrogant," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "You think your hot shit because you play DnD, but guess what, Munson? So do a lot of other people. I think you're just mad because I'm a better DM than you." That seemed to unleash something in Eddie because before you knew it, he was standing from the bed and making a beeline for you.

"Hey, no one is a better DM than me," he jabbed his finger into your face. You kind of liked when he got angry. There was something about it that made you want him even more.

"Oh, I beg to differ," you chuckled, stepping closer so that you were toe to toe with him. "Even Dustin says I'm better than you."

"No he didn't." You could see his gaze moving down to your lips and you mimicked his actions, trying your best to be more subtle than he was.

"No, he didn't," you shook your head. "But you believed it for a second, didn't you? God, you're so easy to rile up, you're so-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Eddie grabbed you by the neck, pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss. You gasped into his mouth, but quickly responded by moving your lips with his. Your hands quickly wound into his hair as his went to your waist, wrapping around it tightly as he tried to remove any space between the two of you.

Just as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip, you pulled away, not wanting things to get too heated. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and Eddie desperately wanted to nibble on it. Now that he had gotten a taste, he felt like he could kiss you for the rest of his life and never get bored.

"We can't do this," you said, stepping away from him, but he just followed you, backing you up until your back hit the dresser. You wanted him to kiss you again, even wanted to let him go all the way, but there was something about it that felt wrong. Mainly because you were Dustin's sister. Not that either of you would have told him.

"Why not?" He asked, licking his lips and he didn't miss the way you were looking at them, like they were a glass of water and you were absolutely parched.

"Be-because of Dustin."

"He doesn't have to know, but if you don't want to kiss me, then that's fine," he turned towards the door. "We can just go downstairs and tell Steve and Rob that we made up-"

But before Eddie could get to the door or finish his sentence, you turned him around to face you, throwing yourself into his arms before pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss. He was quick to respond, moving his lips with yours, his hands slowly moving up to your waist again.

He licked into your mouth and you moaned as his tongue swirled around yours, backing him up to the bed. He collapsed onto it, taking you with him and you were quick to straddle his waist. You kicked off your shoes then pulled away before pressing a kiss to his cheek, moving his hair out of the way before leaning down, your lips hovering over the shell of his ear.

"I'm gonna show you who the real master is," you whispered and Eddie could feel his dick hardening at your words.

You then pressed a kiss to his neck, peppering the spot with them before adding in your tongue. You could feel his heart racing against your lips and almost wanted to laugh. Good. You had him right where you wanted him. 

You began to suck on the skin, wanting everyone to see exactly what you had done to him. He laid there, pliant to your touch as you marked him up, wanting to let you do whatever you wanted to him. The woman he had been fantasizing for months was on top of him, giving him a hickey so who was he to deny you? This was just a wet dream come to life. 

His hands moved up the back of your shirt, his fingers digging into your back as you continued to work, a moan escaping his lips as he did so. Your teeth grazed the skin and his heart rate skyrocketed, another moan falling from his lips, his fingers digging even further into your back.

Once you felt like your work was done, you pulled away, smiling down at his neck that was now shining with your spit and the hickey that was forming. You had given multiple in your lifetime, but thinking about the fact that Eddie Munson was now going to be walking around sporting the mark that you gave him suddenly made you feel very wet.

He pulled you in for another kiss and you were the one to dip your tongue into his mouth, slowly grinding against him as you did so. You could hear a whimper in the back of his throat and let it die on his lips as you continued to kiss him, still grinding against his cock that was getting even more hard by the second. 

You pulled off your shirt and Eddie stared at your chest, his eyes filling with lust. You stared down at him and continued to grind on him, knowing that he needed just a little push to get the little whimper to pass through his lips. 

“l/n, please, can’t take all the teasing.” His whining was so hot and making you even more wt as you thought about him actually needing you that bad. 

“Gonna need a bit more, Munson.” You were grinding even harder now and Eddie swore that he was going to lose his goddamn mind. “C’mon, beg me.” 

“Please,” he whined again, more passion in his words. “I mean, do you need to see my cock to see how desperate I am?” You knew he was exaggerating, but you actually did want to see his cock, wondering if it looked anything like you thought it did. 

“I do, actually,” you nodded and his hands moved to his shorts and seeing how his dick was tenting in his pants, you could already see what a mess you had made of him. You got off of him and let him get the shorts off, followed by his underwear and you couldn’t help but stare at him, lying there with his cock in full display, the thing much bigger than you had anticipated. 

You followed his lead and stripped your underwear before your skirt and you could see Eddie’s mouth fall open as he stared at you, lust clouding his eyes even more. You then pushed him onto the bed before retrieving a condom from his pocket, opening the packet then rolling the thing onto his cock.

“Don’t think this is because I like you or anything,” you told him as you straddled his waist again, slowly placing yourself onto his cock. “This is just because you’re here and you’re hot.” Eddie had no problem with that. Why you were fucking him was none of his business. He was perfectly happy with you using him for his body. 

“I don’t care,” he shook his head. “Use me.”

“Oh, I intend to.” You leaned down and pressed a hot kiss to his lips before you began to ride him, bucking your hips against his in a slow motion to get used to it before picking up the pace. Your hands found his shoulders and they dug into his skin as his moved to your waist, the same treatment given to your hips.  

You watched him as you continued to ride him, seeing the way he was already coming undone doing something to you. Your movements got harder and faster and clearly that was what Eddie was wanting considering that he was more responsive to you, moans and whimpers falling from his lips. 

“Knew you’d look hot underneath me,” you said, your breathing getting labored, but Eddie only thought that made you even more attractive. “I mean, look at you, I’ve barely even done anything and you’re already fucked out.” Eddie almost wanted to see what he looked like to know if you were telling the truth or messing with him because he thought that he had been pretty nonchalant up until then, Okay, maybe except for the begging. 

“Gonna need for you to beg for me again,” you said and you were getting too cocky for Eddie’s liking. You were so confident that you were driving him crazy, and you were, but he didn’t want you to know just how desperate he was for a fuck. 

In one swift move, he sat up and pushed you onto your back so that he was on top. It was about time he taught you a lesson, making you moan so loudly that the rest of his house could see just how well he fucked you. 

“I’m the master now,” he said, pinning your arms to the bed. Your mouth was wide open and for once, you didn’t have anything to say. You were shocked by the sudden movement that you needed to catch your breath, but Eddie pounding into you made your brain short circuit. 

He was going so fast and hard and all you could do was moan, loving the way he wasn’t being gentle. He was whispering the most filthy things into your ear and you felt so overstimulated, but didn’t want it to stop. This was easily the best you ever had even though you never would have admitted it. Eddie’s ego didn’t need to be fed anymore. 

“Now you’re the one who’s going to have to beg,” he said, stopping his movements completely. He just stared down at you with his big brown eyes, a hint of mischief behind them just like always. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, his moving slowly against, giving you just a taste, but not the full thing. He didn’t want to spoil you, after all. 

“C’mon,” he urged against your lips. You needed him, but there was no way you were going to beg. You didn’t beg. If it came down to it, you’d just finish the job yourself and make Eddie watch, punishing him for what he had done.

“Not a chance,” you replied. “I can stay here all night.” Eddie didn’t like that response. In retaliation, he sunk deeper into you, fitting all of himself into your cunt and he had to hold back a laugh as he watched you gasp. You just needed a little push and you’d be whining his name in no time.

You couldn’t hold on any longer, very close to giving in, the feeling of his entire cock inside of you getting to you. You thought you could take it, but you really couldn’t. It was more painful than you would have thought and it was driving you crazy that he was trying to make you seem like you wanted him more than you did. You both were just fucking each other because you were there. And maybe you were attracted to him a little bit, but that was beside the point.

“Eddie, please,” you begged, your voice much more whiny than he would have expected. “Eddie, please fuck me.” This was exactly what he was wanting and it really wasn’t that hard to get you to submit. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it sweetheart? All you had to do was beg daddy.” 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Oh, don’t start that or else I’m going to have to punish you.” He pounded into you once more which elicited another delicious moan from your lips. Your grip on him was becoming more rough and he wanted you to hurt him, wanting to be able to see your marks when he looked in the mirror. 

“You say that like this wasn’t already a punishment.” You were giving it back to Eddie and every response almost made him short circuit since the women he usually slept with submitted so easily, obeying his every command, just wanting to impress him. But you, you were different and he liked that. He liked how bratty you were behaving and was going to have fun punishing you. 

“Turn over,” he commanded, his eyes growing dark. 

“Eddie, what-” you were trying to ask him what he was meaning, but he just cut off. 

“I’m not speaking fucking gibberish, y/n, I said. Turn. Over.” He pulled out and you flipped over onto your stomach, a gasp leaving your mouth as his hand made contact with your ass with a loud smack. He did one more, harder this time and you were becoming concerned about how much you were enjoying it. 

You moaned as the smacks continued and before you could even process what was happening, the spanking had stopped. You tried to turn around to see what he was doing, but he pushed your face into the mattress and pounded his cock into your ass, his movements fast and hard. You turned your head to the side so you could breathe and your fingers dug into the comforter as he continued, another moan slipping from your lips. 

You knew that Eddie was a freak in the bedroom, but not this much of one. And did it make you a freak that you were enjoying what he was doing? Definitely. And now you weren’t sure how you were going to go on knowing that this was what you could have had all along if you had stopped your stupid feud. 

“See what happens when you talk back?” He asked, giving one more push and now you were coming undone, an orgasm ripping through you as he removed his hand from your face. You screamed his name and he chuckled to himself as he had you exactly where he wanted you. He then pulled out and disposed of the condom before helping you to your feet. 

You both got dressed, the tension having died down and now you couldn’t look each other in the eye after what you had just done. You cleaned yourself up then put on your clothes, turning your back to Eddie as you did so, suddenly feeling exposed. This was definitely a one time thing and now you were going to have to masturbate for the rest of your life since none of your other hookups would ever compare, Eddie always on your mind as you got yourself off.

Once you were dressed, you turned around to see him grabbing his keys and shoving them into his pocket before reaching for his beer. He stepped closer and tilted the bottle towards you as if he was offering you some. You took a sip, grimacing at how warm it had gotten then handed it back to him. 

Eddie then grabbed hold of your waist and pulled you to him before pressing a kiss to your lips, this one soft and gentle. Just as you were getting into it, he pulled away, pecking you then turning to the door. He rested his hand on the handle then turned to you for a brief moment.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he winked then fled the room, leaving the door wide open. You quickly followed him, stopping in the doorway just in time to see him bound down the stairs to join the party where everyone was hopefully oblivious to what you had just done. 

You waited a few seconds and followed, heading down the stairs just in time to see Robin handing Steve a twenty dollar bill who pocketed it. They both caught your gaze and waved you over, both wrapping an arm around you.

“So how was he?” Steve asked and you tried your best to hide your smile. 

“Oh, we didn’t do anything,” you shook your head, hoping that they would buy your terrible lie. 

“Oh please,” Robin knocked her hip against yours. “We could hear the two of you fucking like bunnies up there. Now come on, let’s get you some water, looks like you need it.” She led you to the kitchen to get you the water and you turned your head in just the right direction to catch Eddie staring at you. He raised his bottle to you and you nodded in response. 

“Same time tomorrow?” he mouthed and you nodded enthusiastically, fully prepared to give him your number after you got your water. Maybe you didn’t hate each other as much as you thought. Maybe all of your attraction to each other was hidden by your supposed hatred. Well, now you supposed you were enemies with benefits and you had absolutely no problem with that.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

She thought that coming up the hill would be the hardest part, but that proves to be wrong once she’s at the top.

Max hadn’t had the courage to visit by herself. Hadn’t wanted to experience the awkwardness of being both alone and un-alone, talking to someone and no one.

Most likely no one.

She thought about buying a Ouija board, but Robin very narrowly talked her out of it.

This seemed like a better alternative anyway.

Of all the birthdays she knows her brother spent alone, held up in his room with no gifts or cake because he claimed to not care about that shit, she figured that he shouldn’t get to choose this time.

So, there’s a blanket spread out on the grass with an unopened cake from Melvald’s on top, and a bouquet of flowers.

“Man, he would’ve called this gay,” Steve muses.

He leans against his hand, legs semi-stretched beside him, admiring the inscription on the headstone like it’s nothing more than a rock with writing on it.

And maybe, to him, it isn’t.

Max huffs a laugh, but it’s clipped near the end. Heavy, when her throat bobs, and she nods as tears slip down her cheeks.

“He’d call me a shithead and probably still try to steal a slice when nobody was looking,” Max says with a chuckle.

Steve huffs amusedly and shrugs.

“He was a funny guy.”

His gaze wanders off as he tugs some blades of grass up from the ground, snapping and sprinkling them into a small pile at his side with his free hand.

The finality to his words has Max’s brows drawing together.

She often wonders if, maybe, she and Steve never clicked for a reason, and if she probably shouldn’t have invited him up here when Robin suggested it.

Trust me, she had said. Take Steve, if you take anyone.

“Guess so,” Max murmurs.

Her eyes wander down to the cake sitting between them, blank, just as it was on the shelf. She wipes her eyes and thinks about reaching out to pop the plastic lid off when Steve shifts.

“Wasn’t really big on sweets,” he says.

Max blinks at him.

“What?”

“Billy,” Steve says, glancing over at her and gesturing vaguely to the headstone. “He didn’t like sweets.”

She stares for a long moment, searching her mind for a protest. Comes up blank when she tries to think of the two of them getting ice cream or something together, but she can’t recall him ever ordering anything for himself.

Across the blanket, Steve hums amusedly and smiles to himself, fiddling with a single grass blade between his fingers.

“He liked the apple pie at the diner, though. With a scoop of plain vanilla ice cream.”

“You guys went to the diner together?”

Steve’s face flushes a light pink and he shrugs again.

“Yeah? Quite a bit, actually. I think they still have his senior photo up by the register. Guy could demolish a burger.”

Max’s eyes mist over again, but she chews her lip and nods. Pushes a hand through her hair and turns her gaze down toward the blanket.

“I always thought he was, like, out partying or something.”

“We partied,” Steve admits. Shifts and lays down on his side, propping his head up in his hand. “But we usually… found somewhere quiet and just talked. Sometimes at the diner, sometimes the quarry, I think even the pool once or twice.”

He suppresses a grin as he thinks to himself, lightly nudging his sneaker against the stone. Like he’s unaware that it’s even there.

The line between Max’s brows deepens.

“If you guys were so close, then why weren’t you at his funeral?” she snaps.

Immediately, she cups a hand over her mouth, eyes widening as Steve glances at her again.

His brown eyes grow bigger for just a moment.

“I don’t know,” he confesses. A new heat rises to the surface of his skin, eyes becoming glassy. “Felt like maybe I wasn’t supposed…” he pauses to clear his throat before continuing, “I, ah, visit a lot, though.”

“You do?” Max blurts.

Steve nods. Nudges the slightly older, more brittle bouquet lying next to the fresh one with the tip of his shoe.

“Who do you think leaves the flowers?”

With her hand still clamped over her mouth, Max stares at him again.

“How often do you come here?”

“Oh, just… whenever,” he says. “Maybe like three or more times a week?”

“Three or more times a week?”

Now, Steve sits up, brows drawing together.

“What’s your deal? If I knew you were gonna freak out and yell at me about everything I say, I wouldn’t have agreed to come up here.”

Max holds her hands out in front of her.

“Okay, no, you’re right, I’m sorry,” she says. Sighs and rubs a hand over her face. “I guess I just… I dunno, we were never close, but I kinda always thought I knew him best. Now I’m finding out you guys were apparently linked at the hip, and he never… I didn’t even know he didn’t like sweet stuff…”

Her skin grows hot and her eyes well with tears again. Chapped and boiling over.

Steve’s expression relaxes, and he drops his shoulders.

“He wasn’t just secretive with you. Most of what I learned about him was just by observing,” Steve reassures. Then chuckles. “He was always calling me these stupid nicknames, and the one time I called him something back — angel face — he flipped and yelled at me. No idea why.”

Max sniffles and wipes her eyes with her palms, accepting the small bundle of napkins when Steve passes it over to her.

“Angel face?” she asks.

Suddenly, Steve looks away bashfully.

“Dunno, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing I said. He hated it, so I never used nicknames again.”

Max shakes her head, which earns a puzzled look.

“He didn’t hate nicknames,” she says. Glances briefly at the headstone and then away again. “Angel face is what his mom called him.” It feels like a betrayal, to say it out loud, and Max winces. “I overheard Neil mention it in their arguments once or twice.”

She fiddles with her pant leg in her lap for a moment. Looks up to see Steve’s eyes nearly overflowing with tears, staring at the headstone.

“Oh,” he croaks.

The sight, the sound of his voice has Max’s throat going tight.

She shifts in place. Watches as Steve takes a shaky breath and reaches up to wipe his eyes with the heel of his palm. Then, she’s pushing herself up and shuffling across the blanket on her knees, reaching her arms around his shoulders.

At first, he doesn’t react. Then there’s an arm stretching around her back.

Hugging him is exactly like she thought it would be. Like he’s comforting her, and not the other way around. Steady, grounding, like she knows him to be for others.

She makes a mental note to thank Robin later on.

“He really was a funny guy.”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Could you do a part 3 to last christmas where reader starts spending a lot of time with a new guy (maybe a coworker of hers) and then they go on a date and Steve finds out and gets really jealous and then regrets rejecting her and then you can choose how it ends. Thank you!

(some actions may seem ooc but it’s because i’m not focused too much on that for this. it’s more my brain talking as three people)

“why does this new guy need a month of training? it’s ice cream scooping, he can’t be that stupid.” steve grumbled as he counted the till while robin locked the store doors.

“might have something to do with our lovely y/n, their soul has captivated the young man. i mean i see them giggling and being a bit touchy, think they’re both feeling each other.” robin worked on cleaning up the ice cream counter, shutting all the metal tops.

steve’s hands stopped their counting of ones and his face scrunched at his friends words, “no way. he seems awkward as hell, bet he’s secretly a douchebag. dylan the douchebag rings a bell.” mumbling to himself.

robin’s scuff bounced off the walls, “yeah, that baby face of his really gives off that impression. compared to you and him, it’s pretty obvious who was the actual douchebag in their life.”

“come on, you’re supposed to be on my side here.”

“your side of what? a jealousy of y/n turning their attention to someone other guy? news flash sailor, you turned them away.” and steve was momentarily stunned by the harshness in robin’s voice, and the strong furrow of her brows.

steve licked his lips as he locked the register, “i- i know, but i still care about them and their feelings. i don’t want them getting their hopes up… again.”

robin was silent as she worked on stacking up the chairs then blurted, “i wouldn’t worry about that. they’re going on a date next thrusday.”

steve’s legs gave out for a moment, “a date? already?” he had to clear his throat when he heard how pitched it came out, “and- and you’re okay with that? we barely know the dude.”

robin came to your defense, “actually i’ve know dylan for a year, we take band together. and i was the one who put in a good word for him.” she strode her legs so she was standing directly in front of steve, “if i’m supposed to ‘choose sides’, it’s always gonna be theirs. so i’m not really sorry that you feel this way, harrington, but you’ve made your bed time to lie in it.”

-

“he’s gonna take me to benny’s for lunch and then we’re gonna head over to palace arcade for a bit. says he determined to win me a stuffed animal.” fingers tapping atop the back room table, a smile tugging the corners of your lips.

“you gonna beat his ass at black widow?” robin teased. you scoffed, “of course, told him i’m not going easy on any games. and he took the challenge happily.”

“he’s a good sport, doesn’t take anything too seriously.” robin commented just as steve pushed open the swinging doors, “hey robs, i need my fifteen.”

“but you al-“ “robin, please.” steve widened his eyes slight, the break seeming urgent to him. she just rolled her eyes and breezed past him. you didn’t say anything when steve sat across from you and you were planning to make a leave when he spoke up, “going on a date i heard.”

you kisses your teeth, “uh yeah. a chill one, dylan was real nice about it. called it a date then redirected to saying hang out but i stood by calling it a date. he smiled and it made my chest warm, knew i made a good decision.” ducking your head so you could hide your warm cheeks and soft smile, your heart speeding up at the memory.

“listen, y/n, i just- i wanted to…” steve was waving his hands around as he kept speaking then stopping to find his words. you watched him with careful eyes, “as you’re friend i don’t think you should rush into this. you hardly know the guy.”

a slow nod of your heard, “that’s true… but we’re gonna be in public settings if you’re worried about me getting murdered or something. plus i still have my stupid curfew, so it’s more of a lunch date anyway.”

steve rolled his eyes, “no i mean- what did you see in this guy for you to latch onto him so quickly? i mean you’ve had a crush on me for a while, but what’s so special about dylan?” his arms crossed over his chested aggressively with a downward frown.

your brows pitched down, “are- are you fucking jealous? steve you have no right to be jealous or anything like that in this situation, you rejected me. i grieved that pain and now i’ve found someone who’s willing to give me a chance.”

“well maybe i don’t want you to give someone else a chance.” you scoffed at his childish words, “what if i said i want to be that someone?”

you stood from the chair, practically knocking it over in your haste. “fuck you steve. you’re such a fucking asshole.” storming from the ice cream parlor with fire at your heels.

[yourauthorjen]

| CARAMEL MACCHIATO (ii) | — bucky barnes

(requests open)

part i masterlist

| synopsis: | part two in which a steady handed latte maker finds herself face to face with notorious, and charming hockey player james bucky barnes.

| contains: | hockeyplayer!bucky x barista!reader, fluff, lot of banter, teasing, nicknames, hardcore flirting, head over heels bucky, tropes and cliches.

| word count: | 3.2k

| a/n: | i learned hockey terms for this

YOU WEREN’T SURE who was gonna blast off your eardrum first.

But you supposed that was a rhetorical question now, based on the fact both Wanda and Natasha were arguing loudly over each other, before Wanada would let out an excited shriek and then grab your arms, shaking you around like a rag doll.

The second you had stepped into Wanda’s apartment you had made a beeline for the fridge, settling down with a bag of popcorn. Then you retold the entire debacle that had happened at the cafe. And now, just a few seconds after you had told them about Bucky asking you to go to his game, they had emerged into chaos of squealing, physical smacking with pillows, and a string of questions.

“Ow- WANDA! Calm down!”

Wanda paused, her hand still gripped around your arm as her lips stretched into a dreamy smile. “Oh, I can’t believe James Buchanan Barnes just asked you out.”

“He probably says that to every girl he fancies,” you said, brushing her arm off, “I think he’s just run out of options to choose from. Next thing you know he’s gonna be asking Crabby Abby the lunch lady out.”

Natasha snorted as she picked at a popcorn kernel. “He doesn’t say that to every girl.”

You give her a bewildered look, “What?”

Natasha sighed, “Look Steve and Bucky are in a few of my classes, and when Bucky wants a one night stand he never pursues the girl, much less invite them to his game, he doesn't do dates, it's always just a fling in the bed and then they're done.”

“Exactly!” Wanda said triumphantly, “It’s like those romance novels I made you guys read. The popular guy tries to impress the girl he secretly has a big fat crush on.”

You rolled you’re eyes throwing a pillow at the ginger. “You read too much romance novels.”

She let out a noise of protest, “But it’s educational! If you’d actually read my annotations on Offside then you would’ve understood that Bucky’s just emotionally repressed and he’s in love with you who doesn’t give a day about him.”

“I think I missed the class where that was considered a valid psychological analysis,” you deadpanned, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth.

Wanda just shrugged, “It’s okay to admit it. He’s cute, and he’s probably good in bed.”

You blanched and you almost choked on your popcorn. “Oh my god, Wanda that’s gross.”

You looked back at Natasha who was sitting beside you, a thoughtful look on her face. “You should come with us, Wanda’s going to support her brother and I’m going because Wanda promised me she’d buy food and…”

“Because she wants to see Steve,” Wanda snickered, her cheeks puffing out smugly.

Your eyebrows shot up, “Nat! You and Steve?”

If looks could kill, this one did, and Natasha narrowed her eyes at you, as if warning you not to say anything. “There’s nothing between me and Steve,” she practically growled, “And if I hear a word about this I will kill you both with a machete.”

You shrinked back slightly but Wanda doesn’t even flinch. “No you won’t,” she chirps, “You love us. Almost as much as you love Steve’s—”

“Okay!” Natasha said, cutting her off, “That doesn’t matter anymore, but what matters most is that you,” she pointed at you, “are coming to the game with us. Whether you like it or not.”

You shook your head, already standing to stretch. “I told him I wasn’t sure.”

“Which means yes,” Wanda said confidently.

“It absolutely does not. I already said I might not go, and I don’t even know if I meant that. I’m not gonna show up and make it seem like I’m following him around.”

Wanda wrinkled her nose, “Babe, you’re overthinking this.”

You threw your hands in the air, knocking over your bag of popcorn. “I’m just saying—“

“Nuh uh,” Wanda said wagging her finger, “I’ve even got a jersey for you.”

She triumphantly held up a red jersey, a matching logo printed onto the front of the shirt and the number 10 on the back.

"Wanda where'd did you get that?" You asked, squinting suspiciously at the shirt.

"Dunno, think I thrifted it. But you can come to the game with us, you'll blend right in."

“I still haven’t even said yes to this,” you muttered, holding the jersey up in front of you. “He doesn’t even know if I’m coming.”

“Well,” Wanda replied, “won’t he be pleasantly surprised then?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Despite your protests throughout the entire day, they still practically manhandled you into the ridiculous jersey Wanda had given you and an even more ridiculous beanie. Instead of the sweatpants with fuzzy linings that you had planned to wear, Natasha had tossed you a pair of jeans with ripped holes in them.

Soon you found yourself sandwiched between your two friends. The music was loud, the arena was cold, and the crowd was buzzing. You were trying your best to look at least mildly interested, but your stomach hadn't calmed down since you sat down.

Your friends had made quite a big gesture of forcing you to sit as close as the three of you could get without you throwing a tantrum. It was close enough to the rink that you could see the players but not close enough to hear what they were saying as they prepared on the ice for warm-ups.

You spotted Sam right away, arguing with someone from the other team as he strapped his gear onto his body. Then you saw Steve, skating around in circles, his helmet unclasped and his blonde hair sticking out.

Though your eyes seemed focused on the rink, they seemed to dance around the arena, trying to find a specific brunette in particular.

Meanwhile, Steve skated back over to the team bench where Bucky was sitting, tightening his gloves. He nodded politely to his coach, before taking off his helmet and setting down his stick.

"Buck," Steve greeted, casually nudging him towards the bleachers.

Sam who had finally given up on his conversation made a beeline towards the duo, his eyes widening when he caught on to the sight of you sitting in the bleachers, absentmindedly fidgeting with the straw of your drink.

"Bucky!" Sam said in a sing song voice, "Guess what?"

Bucky looked at him in disdain, before deadpanning, "What?"

Sam turned with a wide grin and pointed to where you were sitting. "I guess your girl did come to see you play."

His eyes snapped up to where Sam was pointing, and the sight of your hair bunched under your beanie, body swallowed by his team jersey made his breath catch. His lips parted slightly, before a small smile tugged onto his lips.

"Yeah," he breathed, "I think she did."

You hadn’t even realized he was looking until the sudden weight of his stare made your heart stutter. You glanced down toward the rink, and there he was—helmet under one arm, stick balanced lazily over his shoulder, his messy hair falling into his eyes.

You quickly turned your head away.

“Oh my god,” Wanda whispered beside you. “He saw you.”

“Nope,” you mumbled. “Nope, nope nope. He didn't see me.”

Natasha exchanged a glance with Wanda and before you could object, they were both grabbing your arms.

“What are you—stop that—this is abuse!”

You were dragged—literally dragged—down the metal stairs toward the glass where the team was still skating around. A few other students were gathered down there, phones out, chatting or waiting for selfies, but Natasha and Wanda didn’t slow down until you were right at the barrier.

"Go say hi to him!" Wanda pushed, giving you a gentle shove as you tried to duck behind Natasha. The red head side stepped, giving you a smirk before Wanda snatched your wrist and forced you closer to where Bucky, Steve and Sam, stood by the bench.

You couldn't ignore the way Bucky's face lit up into a boyish grin, entirely too pleased.

You felt your face heat up under the harsh chill of the rink, and your fingers instinctively tugged down the sleeves of the jersey—his team’s jersey. His team’s.

Though, you still had no idea whose number you were wearing.

“Hey,” Bucky called out, loud enough to be heard over the thrum of the music and buzz of the crowd. He skated closer, stopping just in front of the glass. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

You shrugged, suddenly very aware of how close the barrier was—and how his eyes hadn’t left you since you got down there. “I wasn’t sure I would.”

He leaned his arms on his stick, tucking his helmet under one arm. “But you did.”

You nodded slowly. “I did.”

Bucky’s eyes dropped briefly to the jersey you were wearing, and the grin that pulled at his mouth widened. “Nice choice, by the way.” He pointed to the jersey you were wearing.

You blinked. “What?”

He tilted his head, his gaze flicking to the 10 printed on the side of your arm, then back to your face. “That’s my number.”

You froze.

You had almost forgotten that your friends were behind you until Wanda sputtered, “Wait—what?”

You turned slowly towards her. “You said you thrifted it!”

“I did!” Wanda hissed. “I didn’t know it was his!”

Natasha on the other hand seemed incredibly smug and just snickered as your face turned pink.

You turned back to Bucky, mouth opening, then closing again. “You—you’re number ten?”

He grinned shamelessly. “Mhm.”

You scowled as he ran his hand through his hair. He looked so ridiculously handsome even with the thick padding of his hockey gear, and the more you stared at him the more dumbfounded you were by his beauty.

"Barnes!" Someone yelled, "If you don't get your ass back here I'm substituting you for Lang!"

Bucky winced, then gave you an apologetic look, backing up on his skates.

“Duty calls,” he said, and you nodded furiously, unsure whether you were grateful for the interruption or... disappointed.

Bucky tapped the glass once with his gloved knuckle, pulling your attention back to him. “Hey.”

You looked up.

His expression was softer now, almost sincere beneath all the charm. “Thanks for coming.”

You blinked. “I... yeah. You’re welcome.”

“I’ll play better knowing you’re watching,” he added, voice lower now—only for you to hear.

You were pretty sure your soul momentarily left your body.

Natasha and Wanda were now whispering furiously behind you, but you ignored them and managed a small smile. “Good luck.”

Bucky winked. “Watch me score one for you.”

You rolled your eyes as he skated away, and as you sat back down you couldn't help but let your thoughts flit towards those pretty eyes and the soft tufts of brown hair that you wanted to run your fingers through.

And throughout the entire game, you tried—really tried—to maintain some kind of composure.

You stood near the rink with your arms folded, pretending to be deeply uninterested in the chaos of screaming fans and the sharp sound of blades carving into the ice. But every time Bucky flew past with the puck, you'd have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling to hard.

Especially when he did that thing—grinning like he had the entire rink wrapped around his finger.

Which he probably did.

Because he kept looking straight at you.

The first goal he scored, it was clean and easy. The second the puck slammed into the net, he skated by your section with a smug grin on his face, and just before gliding past you, he reached up, tugged off one glove with his teeth, and tapped two fingers against his heart—then flicked them toward you in a lazy salute.

“Did he just—”

“Yes,” Natasha said, without looking. “He did.”

Wanda squealed, high pitched and excited, earning several strange looks from onlookers.

You blushed, and then before you could blink, the rest of the game flew by in a second.

By the few final minutes, you were on your feet, yelling along with Wanda and Natasha as the scoreboard tied.

Somehow the adrenaline- all the screaming, stomping, and noise- made you edge closer to the glass.

It was then when the other team called for timeout, and you watched as Bucky yanked off his helmet, breathing heavily as sweat beaded his forehead.

His hair was a mess—disheveled and clinging to his temples, sticking out at odd angles from being crammed under his helmet. His cheeks were flushed, chest rising and falling with every breath as he leaned forward, hands on his knees, catching a break.

It was ridiculous.

He was sweaty, messy, and absolutely glowing from the adrenaline. His arms flexed beneath the padding, jaw clenched, and you hated that you were staring, but your eyes just refused to tear themselves away from the sight.

Wanda nudged you with her elbow. “You’re drooling.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

You flicked your gaze away, cheeks burning. “I’m just observing.”

Natasha scoffed. “You’re admiring.”

Your humphed, but your breath still caught as he skated back on the ice, head low, stick dragging slightly along the rink. And right before the whistle blew, he looked up—right at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. He licked his lips, and smirked like he knew what you were thinking, though this time, you shamelessly stared back.

The crowd was a blur as the game picked back up, everything sharp and fast and loud. You could barely keep up with the puck as it was passed back and forth, the seconds ticking down, tension so thick it made your heart jerk in your chest.

Each second that ticked by kept you on your toes, and with just ten seconds left on the clock, it seemed like the game would end in overtime.

But then it happened so fast you nearly missed it—Bucky snatched the puck away, faked left, weaved around the opposing team, then launched the puck so hard into the goal it rattled off the back post.

The crowd fell silent, then erupted into cheers. Half of the stadium roared in excitement, jumping to their feet, you included.

The team was celebrating too— except for Bucky.

He didn’t celebrate right away, No, Bucky skated straight to the glass where you were standing. His cheeks were flushed, his breath fogging the inside of his helmet. He pressed a kiss to his palm, placing it directly against the glass right where your hand was resting.

“That was for you,” he mouthed.

You blinked. Stunned.

And everything seemed to slow down as your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him skate away, his teammates tackling him to the ground while the crowd celebrated.

Wanda let out a shriek, snapping you out of your daze. “OH MY GOD. LOOK!”

Your eyes flicked up to the jumbotron she was pointing too. Somehow the camera had caught the whole thing and now it was broadcasted on every screen in the arena.

You looked ridiculous, cheeks flushed, eyes stunned, and lips parted, with Bucky’s kiss still pressed to the barrier.

And for the second time that day the entire crowd lost their minds again, everyone’s eyes now pointed on you.

The whole arena could see it. See you.

You were frozen. Blushing. Heart doing somersaults over and over again as Wanda shrieked next to you and Natasha actually choked on her own spit.

“Oh my god,” Wanda gasped. “He did that thing.”

“What thing?” you managed to sputter out.

“The thing in her ridiculous romance novels,” Natasha replied, her face splitting into a grin.

You didn’t know how to respond, and you didn’t need to because the next thing you knew, the crowd had began to file out, buzzing with victory, while Natasha and Wanda dragged you out the arena to meet up with the boys.

You let yourself be pulled along with your friends, down to the corridor where the team’s locker room was located, and as you fidgeted awkwardly with your— Bucky’s jersey you tried to avert your eyes from some of the curious bypassers.

It was bad enough that the jumbotron had caught everything on camera, you didn’t need any more rumors or gossip running through campus about how you had managed to bewitch Bucky Barnes.

“Penny for your thoughts?” a smooth, low voice asked, snapping you out of your daze.

Speak of the devil you thought as you looked up to see Bucky, his eyes piercing into yours, his damp hair pushed back, and a blue henley clinging to his chest. His toned arms strained slightly againsy the fabric of the sleeves, just enough to make your face go warm.

And then—God help you—without a word, he lifted one arm and braced his hand against the wall beside your head, leaning in slowly. The space between you disappeared, his scent—cinnamon and spice—hitting you all at once.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes dipping down to your parted lips before flicking back to your face.

Your heart was in your throat, and you couldn’t decide where to look—his eyes felt too intense, but anywhere else and it was just worse. His jaw, his mouth, the curve of his collarbone.

He was doing this on purpose.

“I liked the game,” you said quickly, your voice embarrassingly timid. “You were… good.”

One of his eyebrows ticked up. “Just good?”

You nodded mutely before making the mistake of peering over his shoulder, desperately searching for Wanda or Natasha to save you.

They were both a few feet away, standing with Sam and Steve, all of them very clearly watching the entire exchange, all four of them— especially Sam and Wanda, has smug smiles on their faces.

Your panic must’ve shown on your face because Natasha just winked at you, her eyebrow raised as she watched you struggle.

You glared at her, hoping it would communicate just how much you were going to kill her later, but all she did was laugh harder and nudge Wanda, who gave you a double thumbs-up.

Bucky followed your gaze, clearly catching on to your silent cry for help. He turned slightly to glance at your friends, then looked back at you with a crooked grin. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna bite you.”

You flushed, “I- I didn’t say say that.” you sputtered indignantly, squirming under his gaze.

"Hmm," was all he said before his eyes glanced at your jersey. "I like it, it looks good on you."

"Thanks," you managed to squeak out.

"I do have to admit though," he said drawing the words out, "It did distract me a little, especially the second goal."

He lifted his arm up, and you couldn't help but silently protest. "Don’t blame me for your weak game, Barnes."

"Oh, doll," he sighed, "If that was me playing weak imagine what I could do if I wasn’t distracted by the prettiest girl in the rink.”

"You can't- that's not how it works," you huffed, "Do you always talk like this to everyone?"

He grinned, "Why not?"

"Because..." you trailed off, unsure how to respond.

Bucky's grin only widened, as he leaned in, his lips hovering over your ear. "If it makes you feel better, I only talk like this to pretty baristas who make phenomenal coffees."

You snorted, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped at his gravelly voice. “That line always work?”

His smirk softened just a smidge. “Wouldn’t know. Haven’t used it before.”

You opened your mouth to reply, maybe something snarky to keep your heart from leaping out of your chest and your face from turning bright red-

"Look, as much as I love seeing you two get all horny over each other," Sam called from where he was standing, "If you two don't hurry the hell up I'm taking your damn car Bucky and getting food myself."

Bucky whipped around before jerking his middle finger up. "Oh fuck off Samuel."

"Language," Steve reminded, while Wanda giggled into her sleeve.

Bucky rolled his eyes before offering you a hand. "I was thinking," he said quietly as you wrapped your fingers around his, "Maybe we can go on a date sometime, just the two of us sometime. I know some good spots around town."

Your lips twitched as you remember Natasha's words. Bucky Barnes doesn't do dates.

“It depends.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. You didn’t miss the small pout forming on his mouth as the two of you strolled back towards the group who was already heading towards the parking lot.

“Depends on what?” he asked, giving your hand a light squeeze.

"Depends if you're going to let me choose."

“I swear,” Sam said, falling into step with the two of you as you reached him, “That took you long enough Buck.”

You blinked. “What him long enough?”

Bucky gave the dark haired man a haphazard look. "Sam."

Sam just grinned wider, ignoring him completely as you walked to his car. “Oh yeah. This punk’s been soft on you since the first day he saw you on campus. Came running into the locker room, squealing at the top of his lungs."

You gawked at Bucky, trying very hard not to laugh while he fidgeted with his car keys. "And how long has this been Sergeant?"

Sam snorted, "Maybe about two years now."

"Sam," Bucky practically snarled, "Shut up."

But Sam had already began walking to the back of the car, a smug smile on his face.

Just as he reached for the door handle, Bucky grabbed your wrist and spun you toward him. Before you could even process what was happening, he had pushed you against the car, his hand cupped against your face as he guided his lips to yours.

You’re startled, the softness of his lips contrasted the hardness of his body pressed to yours, and for a second you’re unsure what to do. But when one of his arms circle around your waist you can’t help but part your lips greedily against his warm and desperate kiss.

When he finally pulled away, his voice was a rough whisper against your cheek, though his eyes were still dark and hungry. “Not a word about this.”

You giggled as you slid into the passenger seat cheeks flushed and lips tingling. “Lips sealed,” you said snickering, “Just like yours were a second ago.”

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 14

Part 13

Steve’s schedule kept him busy, which he was certainly glad for. He didn’t have a lot of time to think about his father, or the kingdom that wouldn’t miss him. Any thoughts of his uselessness or his failure at being a proper prince were pushed out when Dustin asked him a random question, or Lucas needed his help, or he had to go up against Max’s wit.

About every other night, he was visited by his feathered friend. It didn’t come bearing food. And in fact, didn’t really come in. Steve would just catch it sometimes, peering at him from the window for a moment before flying off. Almost like it was checking in on him.

Steve made Lucas stop in his attack and nudged his foot with the tip of his staff, widening his stance. Steve was making Lucas try out different weapons and fighting styles to see what truly fit him.

“I know swords are really popular. But there’s more than one way to defend yourself.”

He’d been watching his movements closely and paying attention to how he reacted to things. Honestly, Lucas seemed more suited to something long range. Perhaps archery. Steve had yet to see a range but any castle would employ some sort of archer garrison. 

Steve saw black wings soar briefly overhead, but of course he didn’t connect it to the ones that flapped by his window most nights. Why would he?

He was given the task of reshelving books in the library. An easy task since the sections were labeled for organization. At the tail end of this task, he noticed Dustin and El pouring over a book, seeming deep in their studies. Interest piqued, he approached them.

“What are you two getting into?”, he asked.

“Animal husbandry”, El answered.

“Eddie said if we’re responsible, we can get a pet”, Dustin said. “So we’re trying to decide what sort of animal to get.”

Steve looked over their shoulders to see what kind of creatures they were looking at. He didn’t know whether to expect a demogorgon or a cat. Either one seemed likely with these people. He honestly wasn’t prepared for the picture of an octopus. Steve was no stranger to the ocean. His kingdom had a shore that he had been too often and he was a talented swimmer. This place was landlocked though. 

“Where are you going to find and octopus?”, Steve asked.

“The ocean”, Dustin said like Steve was a child.

“You think it’s going to be that easy to transport it?”

“It’s funny you think that’s the issue”, Robin said, appearing from one of the shelves. “How are they gonna keep it here?”

“It’d be fine in a bathtub”, Steve reasoned.

The look on Robin’s face could only be described as exasperation as she blew out a breath and shook her head. But Steve was used to it at this point. The kids saw him as just a new fixture to their home, had just about accepted him completely. It was everyone else that continued to treat him for what he was, a prince who had wanted this kingdom’s downfall until just recently.

But sometimes…

Sometimes there were moments where he felt something changing between himself and them. Robin didn’t always look like she was the one babysitting him anymore. It was still obviously a chore to her, but not as bad as it had been at the beginning. She was even beginning to tolerate him.

A week before the festival, the kids were given new clothes, both for the celebration and to look nice for the performance. Steve couldn’t help but be a tad jealous of the colors and patterns. His own meager wardrobe was an assortment of brown, gray, and white. But he kept his feelings off his face, choosing instead to encourage them to appreciate the new outfits.

“Why can’t we just wear what we normally do?”, Dustin asked.

“Because it’s a special occasion”, Steve rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many people would kill to have a royal seamstress make them a custom outfit?”

“I think I’d kill to not have to wear this”, Mike said, holding up something orange.

“Big talk from someone who squealed at a spider the other day”, Eddie said, entering the room. 

Steve noted that the king’s clothing was usually dark, typically blacks and deep reds. Even as others were moving to brighter, more colorful looks for spring. He didn’t know why he expected different. He didn’t like admitting it, but the king’s appearance was striking in its own way. He always cut an impressive figure, despite being about the same height as Steve. It was a combination of the way he carried himself, his silhouette, and having pointed canines didn’t hurt either.

Among them all, Steve felt like a piece of the background which was…new. And he was sure if he liked it. He supposed it was better than wearing a sign that said he was the son of the Harringtons. He already got glares from people in the castle as it was anytime he was alone. Steve wasn’t fearful for his life. He was pretty confident in his ability to defend himself in a fight. It was a question of what would happen to him once he did. Would the king be so welcoming if he snapped the neck of a guard trying to end him?

—----------------------

Robin and Eddie stood and listened as the kids played the song they’d been practicing in the music room. A lilting piece that heralded the end of winter and the beginning of spring. Robin’s expression was pleased at the progress they’d made in such a short time. It wasn’t perfect, but most of them hadn’t ever picked up an instrument seriously before. Eddie was clapping his hands so loud, it sounded like the pop of a firework with the acoustics of the room. Steve was leaning against the wall, prepared to help put things away once they were done.

“You guys were incredible!”, Eddie praised.

And hearing it from someone they admired so much had even the more prickly of them blushing bashfully. Steve still remembered Dustin grumbling for the first couple of practices and Mike complaining when he’d been moved from lute to flute. But Robin knew what she had been doing. Steve was impressed, truly. 

“That’s why we practice”, Robin smiled.

“And it’s still days before the show”, Eddie said. “For now though, I think you all deserve a reward. So let’s head on down to the kitchen for some tarts.”

The kids all rushed out at that, Robin and Eddie following behind to make sure they didn’t bulldoze anyone over on the way. Only Steve stayed behind, getting started on putting their instruments away. He paused when he passed the clavichord. An instrument no one had picked and wasn’t included in the current arrangement. Steve felt a wave of nostalgia for his own music teacher. She was always so patient and doled out praise whenever he did well.

He let his fingers brush against the keys. He looked to the door, closed, and it sounded like the group was no longer nearby. So Steve sat down and tried out a little melody. It felt like so long since he had played and he couldn’t even blame it on his imprisonment. His parents had never been impressed with music, even when his instructor told them how good he was. He would play from time to time, just never in front of anyone.

“You shouldn’t mess with Robin’s things.”

“Agh! Fuck!”, Steve jolted in the air when the king’s voice sounded from right next to him. “Must you move in shadows?”

Eddie smirked. “It is the best way to travel, but this time I just used the door. I didn’t know you played.” He put a hand against the frame, steading himself as he leaned over, hair falling over his shoulders. 

Steve looked away from him, not understanding why the gaze felt so intense. “I don’t…much.”

“What other hidden talents are you hiding?”

At that, Steve raised a brow, wondering what he was getting at. Did the king still think he was harboring something? Was he of the same mind as Nancy? Steve had nothing up his sleeve and nothing to hide, so he answered.

“I can also play the hurdy gurdy, but that’s not as popular as this.”

And then the king laughed.

At something Steve had said.

“Come on, I promised a sweet for all those who put in good work. That includes you, little prince.”

The king offered his hand to help Steve to his feet. Steve stared for a moment before taking it.

Part 15

Tag team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell @anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug @lil-gremlin-things

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi! I hope you're doing well🥰

Can I be greedy? I NEED me something from the kiss prompt lust if you're willing, of just about any of them, for Autumn (Rosie) and Steve? I genuinely cannot pick, there are at least 10 kinds I'd die to read about🥲 I miss them.

(No pressure!)

eeeeee, I miss them too! I choose --a kiss after a small rejection-- because we all know I love me a bit of angst before the fluff with 🍁 Steve Rogers x super soldier!reader 🍁 [one of my Valentine's Fics for 2024]

Warnings for not much (super mild cursing) except please remember that this reader chose the name Autumn Rose Barnes after rescued from Hydra. Steve calls you 'Rosie,' zero other physical or personal descriptors. It's not an OC! Sorry to lecture, but I've gotten complaints and needed to explain this multiple times...Also, you and Steve adopted a German Shepard mix named Maple. WC 1370

Your Team, an Autumn Is Healing tale

With the fastest, most forceful, super soldier movements you can manage, you shred the single page of paper in your hands.

Those cowards delivered it while you were in your garden. They put it under your door, far back in the building, and they ran away with their tails between their legs.

“‘Not able to authorize you at this time’ MY ASS,” you screech.

“I’m sure the Council didn’t make the decision lightly.” Steve diligently picks up tiny pieces off the carpet as you toss them everywhere.

It’s all you can do not to burst straight through the walls.

“How dare they? Have I not done enough?! What more do they want??”

You aren’t an Avenger, not now, maybe not ever, and the future just looks blank when before it seemed so clear.

You can fight—you should fight,—so why not put you to work? Why not let you on the damn Team?

“They don’t trust me,” you think aloud. “All this power, and no one wants me.”

He stops at the trash and puts his hands on his hips, dejected. “That’s not—Sit down, okay? This isn’t about any of that. You are wanted and trusted here.”

“I can pull my weight, Steve. I can give back what you all have given me. I can be a team player, I promise, please. PLEASE. Tell them. Please tell them I’m ready.”

“Rosie, no one doubts you are ready or capable or any of that, and you are part of the team. More importantly, I am on your team. We all are. Only thing that happened today is some bureaucrats covered their asses—“

You and maple cock your heads in shock, but the language changes nothing.

“Then why can’t I be of use?!”

“Here,” he specifies. “In here, in the compound, of course, we trust you. You know this place. You know all of us. But sweetheart, there is so much out there.”

He changes tactics. “We don’t need—I mean, the Council doesn’t see—you were trained as a soldier, yes, but that’s not who you are. That was so you’d obey their commands. The rest of us, we’re grunts. And frankly, I’m glad you won’t be in harm’s way.”

After thinking for a few seconds, something obvious occurs to you. Steve always fights for what you want, and he’s���not now.

You rush toward him with an accusatory finger up. “You did this.”

“What? No,” Steve balks.

“You did this, didn’t you? That’s what you told them to get them to say ‘no.’ You told them I wasn’t up to it, not a real soldier. You told them I’m not cut out for the Team because you didn’t want me fighting beside you.”

“I said I wanted you safe,” he tries softly.

It’s not a wall you’re about to burst through. “You took my chance!”

“Rosie, that’s ridiculous. I never—“

His phone makes a noise like a foghorn—the call to the jets. Danger. The Team needs him.

You both look up from his hip at the same time, eyes locked between fury and compliance.

“Better go.” You scowl. “Wouldn’t want to hold you back.”

His face falls, and he stands there, listening to the alarm sound again, then again.

Without another word, Steve gives up and leaves.

You lock the door and remove his entrance privileges. It won’t keep him out, but it will slow him down and make a point when he returns.

If he wants to keep the battlefield personal, then this can be your domain. He can apply to participate. He can go through a crucible of grueling interviews and tests and then last-minute, made-up tests because they just wanted to find one reason…

And Steve handed it to them on a silver platter.

When he comes back he tries the door. You can hear the mechanical lock beep in rejection of his hand print. He tries again. He knocks, he calls out with a louder knock, and then, finally, he uses the override command, the one that they technically all have because you can’t be trusted. Not really. Not fully.

He enters the dark rooms quietly.

You’re on the bed, laying with your hands wedged between your thighs, Maple’s belly warming your feet, the window blinds all the way up, moonlight and stars visible as a small comfort.

He doesn’t know if you’re asleep or awake until you speak.

“What was the point—why put me through all this if I can’t help? Am I just a thing to breed?”

“Rosie, honey, that is not and never has been true.” Clearly cautious from your argument, Steve stays a short distance away.

“Then why did no one look for me? I was right there, strapped down for years, because that was my purpose, that’s what I was created fo—”

“So was I,” he exclaims gruffly. “I was made to do one thing, and one thing only, and I still sat in the Arctic for seventy years! It doesn’t prove shit—“ he kneels down beside the bed, holding your hands and whispering pleas into you skin “—and no one but you can define your purpose.” 

Maple whines and bows her head over the edge.

”I want you,” he continues. “I trust you. If it makes me selfish to…fine, I’m selfish. So be it. I don’t want you out there with me, I’m sorry. I don’t. See, I lost people when they got sick, when they went to war, when I went to war, when I came back, when I didn’t come back.”

He pauses, tracing small patterns over your thumb while he squeezes your hands.

“Please. Please, sweetheart. Just give me this one thing because even though you have a serum, I can’t…I can’t imagine…if anything ever…

“We are super. We are not indestructible,” he admits. “Losing you would destroy me.”

Steve looks fragile, his features shadowed by more than the night.

“You don’t need to become an Avenger. We are already on your team. We are your team. You have nothing to earn. You have nothing to fight for. We lo—I love you. I’m in awe of you because you became so much more than they tried to make you be.”

The dog howls gently in agreement.

“Me and Maple are your biggest fans, too.”

Said ‘fan’ harrumphs on cue, making Steve burst into a smile.

“There’s a whole fan club. We have a slogan—‘Go Autumn’—there’s gonna be t-shirts and scarves.” He drops your hand to spring up. “We’re your cheerleaders, right, girl? See?”

He hurdles over you to his side of the bed and starts hopping up and down with his fists in the air. Maple goes ballistic barking.

“RAH, RAH, ROSIE! RAH, RAH, ROSIE!”

Steven Grant Rogers, born the fourth of July, one-hundred plus years ago, jumps on the bed, bouncing till you reluctantly roll off and stand. 

Maple gets down with Steve, panting, and watches intently, thinking her dad has really lost the plot in a super fun way. Maybe she’ll get a treat even.

He steps in front of you, running his fingers through his disheveled hair.

“Wha’d’ya say, Miss, can I be on your team? Do you want me? You trust me?”

If you weren’t so close to tears, you would have answered him immediately. Instead, you hum.

He scoffs. “You Barneses are so picky.”

Steve pulls you into a hug, lifts your chin and says softly against your lips, “go, Autumn, go,” before capturing you in his zeal.

The truth of it is you know he wants you, and you know he trusts you. Knowing that Steve feared for your safety makes you more anxious to have him out there.

You hold him tighter.

He's right, of course, that risk is everywhere and nothing is promised. How could he say 'no' to peace of mind? You'll never be lost. He will never lose this one thing.

Though you will not be joining the Avengers, one of the many things you are a part of is this: a slow dance in the dark with a good man.

A slow, slow dance between his tongue and yours, that is.

After what feels like hours of him kissing you so sweetly, Maple is bored and stretching into a ready stance.

She yips indignantly.

You pull away from Steve. “I know, girl. I always want him to come home, too.”

He rests his forehead to yours. “She’s right. I should respect her mom’s independence.”

Maple squeals and flicks her head (and ears) to the side. Where’s her treat, you crazies? She put up with your tension all night, and she deserves a reward.

Ransom Drysdale and a kiss as a 'yes' ⬅️ ➡️ Lloyd Hansen and a kiss on a place of insecurity

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[loki-princeofasgard]

Mission #182 (part 1)

Loki x Stark!Reader

Part 2

You and Loki have been forced to go on important a mission together, the thing is you both hate each other. Loki looked at you as you two where walking to the cabin you two are gonna share. “You know I hate every second of this right?” Loki says. You just roll your eyes at this.

Loki rolled his eyes back at you “What? it's true, you get on my nerves”. He sighed at her lack of response. “Why do we need to go on this stupid mission anyhow, I've got better things to do.”

“Because Tony said so” you keep your answer short. You and Loki never really saw eye to eye. He always annoyed you and sometime flirt with you just to get in your nerves. You can’t really say you’ve been nice to him too since this.

When Thor brought him to earth and in the Avengers tower, Tony and Steve wanted to put him on a cell and keep him there. You were the only that was able to convice them to not doing this and actually put him to work with the Avengers, to make up for his mistakes on earth. Because of that, it seems that Tony always put you too to work together.

When you first introduced yourself to him, he was really arrogant and rude to you, which kind of made you regret a little not throwing him on that cell...

“So you do everything he says without question?!” Loki got annoyed at your answer. .

“Oh, believe me, I would rather be on this mission with anyone else” You say.

Loki looked annoyed yet interested “Anyone else? Really?”

“Yes.”

“You'd rather be on the mission with Captain American?”

“Like I said...” you stop walking and glare at him “...anyone else”.

Loki glares back at you, he's a bit intrigued at you answer and keeps on pushing the subject “Like who? You'd rather be on the mission with Thor?”

“Yes Loki. Thor, Cap, Nat, Clint, Tony...you can choose anyone.”

Loki looks offended at your answer and crosses his arms and looks away from you “What about Bruce?”

You think about his question. “Bruce? Yes. The hulk...well, look at that, it looks like you won this time” she says with a sarcastic tone.

They kept walking until they finally arrived at the cabin Tony had told them about. You sigh in frustration. It was really a small cabin. “That’s the luxurious cabin Tony told us about?”

Loki looks at you annoyed yet again “What were you expecting? We're in the middle of nowhere, did you expect something like the stark tower?”

“It's gonna be a long mission” You say to yoursel. Loki sighs and follows you into the cabin, looking around to see how small it is. The cabin there's only one room, with only one bed

“Wonderful *you say in a sarcastic tone”

Loki looks at you annoyed, yet he wants to tease you too. “Awww you'll have to sleep in bed with me...”.

“Oh no, you sleep on that couch over there” you point to a smal couch on the corner.

Loki scoffs “I'm not sleeping on the couch. I deserve the bed more than you.”

“Fine, I'll take the couch.” You agreed, not in the mood to discuss more with Loki.

“Fine, I'll take the bed then.” Loki says with a tone of victory. He lays down on the bed. He rolls over and closes his eyes, waiting for you to lay down on the couch. You get a pillow and a blanket and lay down on the small couch.

A few moments go by, Loki looks up and over to see what you were doing. He then sits up in the bed. “Are you comfortable there? It looks uncomfortable...”

“Shut up”. You keep turning around to try to find a comfortable position.

“You're not the most comfortable on the couch huh?” Loki continues to watch her, trying to get her to break and say something.

“I said shut up”.

Loki smirks but keeps quiet, he continues to just sit and watch her try to be comfortable. After a few moments Loki gets up and walks towards her “You're really uncomfortable there huh?”.

You try to keep up the act of being annoyed at him. “I'm... comfortable enough...I don't need your help.”

Loki rolls his eyes at you. He kneels down and moves the blanket out of the way and grabs your pillow.

“HEY! What are you doing? Give it back!”

Loki looks at her annoyed yet again at your resistance “Moving you to the bed. I don't want to get killed tomorrow because you didn't have a good night of sleep”.

“Fine, but you stay in your side and no touching me". You knew he was right, so you just accepted.

He rolls his eyes and lays down, he pats the bed telling her to lay down. “Of course.” Loki lays back on his half of the bed then rolls over and faces you.

You noticed. “What” you whispers looking at him.

He can't hold back his teasing, so he does it again “Come on, you should be glad you’re one of the lucky few to sleep with me.” He whispers and turns his back to you.

“Oh really? So... you didn't sleep with a lot of women. How disappointing...” You smirk, clearly teasing him. You couldn't let this opportunity to tease him pass.

Loki blushes a little at your response but tries not to let you see. “Shut up.’ He turns slightly back looking at her, he's obviously embarrassed.

He turned his face away from her quickly and mumbled “Shut up...” Loki turns away from her completely.

“Oh no!” You say playful and pull him back to you, so he's facing you again, but this time your bodies closer.

Loki looks at her annoyed yet embarrassed. “I told you to shut up.”

“Make me.” you whisper.

Loki look at your lips and got up from the bed, walking away from you to the other side of the cabin. He faced away from you and crossed his arms not saying a word, trying to pretend he was annoyed but in reality, he just wants to kiss you.

You sit on the bed, shocked he just gave up. You start worrying “Maybe I pushed him too much.”

Loki looked over and walks towards you, gently pushing you on the bed again, getting on top of you, and he caress your lip with his thumb “Will this shut you up?”.

Loki stares at you, you’re not saying anything, so he decides to make move. He pulls you closer to him and kisses you passionately. When he pulls back from you , he whispers in your ear “That's should get you to shut up for now”

He gets off you and goes lay down on his side of the bed, his back facing you.

You are shocked after that hot kiss and without reaction.

After a few minutes of being silent, he turns around and faces you. “Is that all? That kiss got you to shut up but no remarks?.”

You look at him but this time, you’re the one kissing him passionately.

[quietlyimplode]

The language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: day 4 - shock

Warnings: action based blood/explosion

Word Count: 1.7k (gif not mine)

Summary: Clint and Natasha’s first mission after the events of New York.

A/N: Sometimes things are exactly as they appear to be. (Also be kind to fic writers pls, know we read each and very comment on reblogs <3)

.

2012

NEW YORK

“He’s better,” Natasha defends, protectively.

“I’m just saying that hiding in vents to spy on your friends is not a good thing,” Bruce tells her.

“He’s not spying, this is a weird situation. We’re here because it’s mandated. We just didn’t know for how long.”

Natasha moves out of the kitchen, wanting to find Clint.

“Just think about it?” Bruce calls after her.

Six months they’ve been here and she knows they’re both stir crazy. Probably all of them are.

Bruce is preparing to go back to Calcutta, and who knows where Thor left to.

She knows Bruce just wants the best for Clint, and she does too; but weekly therapy is enough.

They don’t need more.

He’s no longer catatonic, he’s eating, joking and talking about his feelings.

Isn’t that all she can ask of him?

He’s never had to deal with mind control or someone being in his brain.

The tower is more empty now, though Tony maintains they’re welcome for as long as they want.

She wonders what Steve is going to do.

Her phone rings and she glances at the caller, seeing Maria, she picks it up.

“Yeah?”

Reprieve comes in the strangest of ways.

“We have a mission for you,” she opens.

“Australia.”

Natasha’s heart leaps a little and she smiles to herself.

“Send the packet,” she says, “we can leave whenever.”

Maria pauses.

“How’s he doing?”

Natasha finds her way into the elevator, choosing Clint’s floor as an email comes through.

“Got it,” she tells her, “he’s better, he’s ready for this I think.”

Maria is quiet.

“I’m glad; we’ve missed you both.”

Natasha nods.

“Nothing like a mission to Australia to recalibrate.”

“I’ll get Fury to spring for business class, the 18 hour trip is shit,” Maria laughs.

Natasha is thankful, she hates traveling economy class on long haul trips.

“Hey, maybe whilst you’re there you can do some wedding prep,” Maria goads.

Natasha laughs and hangs up on her friend.

It’s been a running joke since the mission in Kashmir, one that since the events in New York, she’d not heard.

Finding Clint reading, she throws her phone at him with the open packet showing.

“Australia?!”

His glee is contagious as she smiles.

Today is a good day.

Natasha feels a bit of lightness in her world, and it feels strange given the last six months.

She can’t remember the last day like it. Maybe before the aliens came.

“Business class?!”

He laughs again.

“What a lowball mission, they must be feeling sorry for us.”

She takes her phone back, and lays down next to him.

“Maria said we should do some wedding prep,” she laughs with him.

His face turns serious, and she wonders if she’s ruined the mood.

“What if we do?”

She breaks into a smile.

“Yeah okay.”

He nods, looks at the packet again.

“We’re going to Queensland anyway. Nothing happens there.”

Natasha nods, lays down next to him and closes her eyes.

“Bruce is leaving tomorrow too,” she murmurs.

“Tony is going to be lonely,” Clint considers.

“Yeah.”

She does feel sorry for the billionaire, who seems to have grown accustomed to having people in his world, to suddenly have none.

“Maybe we should get everyone together and eat tonight,” he proposes, “I think maybe after Australia we could go back to the apartment.”

It’s a big step, not being around people, not feeling the need to have safety measures in place. She doesn’t think she would have even considered it a month ago, but the more she thinks about it, the more it feels right.

“Yeah I think that sounds like a good idea.”

.

Tony spares no expense in providing for his friends.

It’s kind. Natasha isn’t used to the abundance, even after all this time.

“There’s no way we will eat all this,” she tells him, passing him the food.

Pepper, Steve and Bruce sit on one side and it’s the three of them on the other.

Sitting between Clint and Tony, it’s like sitting between her brother and her lover. Or what she imagines that might be like.

She’s going to have to ask Clint what it was like growing up with a brother. She imagines dangerous in a fun way.

Steve tells a story that makes her laugh; and she goads him with a fossil joke, Clint chimes in with another story and the night passes quickly.

Too quickly, it feels and she wants to stay in this happy moment, this good day.

It surely can’t last.

.

Australia is hot.

It’s a different heat to the United States, and she can almost feel the infrared heat engulf her as she steps off the plane.

“Shit,” Clint exclaims.

She stares at him and he shuts up.

He’s to play her bodyguard, and his outburst is out of character. It’s not like him.

It’s like he’s forgotten what he needs to do to be a spy.

She frowns, worried.

This is a low ball mission, but it doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t take it seriously.

Let your guard down and you become an easy target, even if the mission is just surveillance.

He takes her bags in apology and she fakes the persona she’s been given.

Rich people rarely give eye contact to anyone.

She leaves her glasses on and continues on her way through customs. It takes longer than she expects and she internally groans at the lines.

Externally, she complains out-loud. Everyone avoids eye contact.

Australians are a strange bunch, unlike Americans they seem to both simultaneously helpful and not, no one going out of their way to explain things or to point the clueless in the right direction.

The car that picks them up and drives them to the house is black and the driver nondescript.

It’s only when they’re alone in the two story house overlooking the beach that she breaks character and flops on the bed.

“I forget how well you do a rich bitch,” he says offensively.

She smiles.

“Get me a drink, won’t you?”

He laughs and busies himself with making a late lunch.

They have three hours before night, before they start the stakeout and all he’s eaten is plane food.

.

Two hours in the car and he’s so bored he starts throwing popcorn into his mouth.

Then.

The generator blows.

“Nat?”

“Yeah I saw it.”

They move out of the car, trying to get a better look.

“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” he mutters.

She rolls her eyes.

“I don’t think so.”

Natasha moves quickly, scouting the house to see what’s happening inside, their line of sight now gone in the darkness.

“Nat, wait,” he urges, “what if it’s a trap?”

The money launder is clearly on alert.

Two sets of armed guards leave the door and Natasha watches as they fan out. She sneaks past them and Clint swears as she looks back.

Natasha moves into the house.

Two shots ring out, and Clint ducks, swearing softly under his breath.

There’s someone else there and he can’t see them.

Scrambling up and onto the tall fence, he moves across the tallest tree and climbs up it.

There’s a team of two, dressed in black with large night vision goggles that make them look like frogs.

He taps on his ear piece.

“There’s two, on your left, try and take the mark alive if you can,” he orders.

“The two are coming through the kitchen, he’s moving out the up the stairs.”

Ideally alive, with his ties to hydra and the ten rings, he has valuable information they can use.

Natasha gives the signal she’s seen and chases him up the stairs.

Clint holds the two unknowns lined up in his sight.

He sees one set a charge and the other place two more.

“Fuck, Nat, they’re setting it to blow,” he growls, too far away, too high up to get to her before they detonate.

He drops down anyway, yelling.

“Nat, it’s a trap, they’re rigging it to blow, get out,” he says urgently.

He chases after the retreating spooks, and catches one, gun trained on them.

The frog like character shakes it’s head and holds up the detonator.

“No,” he exclaims, and holds his gun up.

They shake their head, and then press the button.

Hot flames engulf the building, throwing both of them back.

He tackles the body to the ground, ripping off the mask, and punching down hard.

Blonde hair and a frown greet him under the balaclava.

Wild eyes turn to him, “better go save Natasha,” a Russian accent growls.

Shock hits him.

How do they know Natasha?

Russian.

Black widow?

His heart sinks as the realization that Natasha is in a burning building.

“Just like Dreykov’s daughter,” she says scathingly, “left alone to die in a burning building with a bad man.”

Clint lets her go and runs.

She’s going to be okay, she has to be.

The explosion wasn’t big enough to total the building, parts still standing as he coughs in the heat, shielding his face.

He hears sirens wailing, and he knows he needs to find her.

“Natasha!” he calls, going in.

“Nat?!”

He calls her name over and over until he reaches the crumbling stairs. Covering his mouth, hoping that nothing else explodes, he climbs them.

Finding a bathroom, he opens the door only to find Natasha behind it.

“Bathtub,” she coughs.

“Stayed in.”

He hands her the cloth he was using to cover her mouth and helps her down the stairs.

“Mr. Nought?”

Natasha shakes her head.

“Couldn’t get to him. Dead, I think.”

They exit the house, Natasha limping and Clint guiding her out.

He wants to check her over, to see if she’s actually okay, but the sirens draw closer and they need to leave.

“I think the safe house is compromised,” he says driving away, heading straight for the airfield.

“We probably need to swap cars too.”

Natasha groans and holds her head, and Clint glances at her.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, just go, find a car,” she tells him.

There’s blood but he can’t tell in her black cat suit.

“Who was that?” she asks, looking back.

He doesn’t want to say the words but as he speaks them, the more he’s convinced he’s correct.

“Nat, I think it was Yelena.”

.

[flowercrowngods]

One more ask for Bard/Knight you say?? Well then may I request just one more snippet please and thank you haha

That last snippet, of the ballroom, Eddie's really grown up in the world, I'm so happy for him. But also like, I can't imagine they won't ask him to sing his most popular knight songs, and Steve's gonna be right there~

Glorious tension 🤝

Thanks Dio!! I love this ask game, the anticipation of what's coming next in the fics is awesome 🤍

why hello again! :D fancy seeing you here, my friend! 🤍 you come requesting another snippet, and another snippet you shall receive! eddie has grown, yes, but if you squint enough there is also enough anger and spiteful energy inside him to last a lifetime (understandable, too, considering how he has been treated), and it might come back to bite him in the ass. as for singing at the banquet, i have some plans for him 😌 🌷 bard/knight part 1 • preceding snippet no.1 • preceding snippet no. 2

Eddie reaches for a goblet of wine offered to him by a most curteous girl flashing him a shy but charming smile, and it is almost enough to improve his mood or gain the courage to approach the Princess about his predicament. He follows the servant with his eyes, stalling the inevitable just a second longer, when suddenly they fall on a familiar, tragically glorious figure clad in the deep blue colours of his family. 

Lord Harrington, tinged in hues of gold more than anything else as the light of the flames dancing along the walls catches in his hair in a way that Eddie has heard will make kings succumb to madness, is laughing along to the excited gesturing of a woman Eddie can’t seem to recognise, but it is not she who has caught his eye. It is Lord Harrington with a look so impossibly gentle and a dress so regal that it makes Eddie’s legs weak and his heart ache. How can a man who has been wronged so endlessly still smile like this, look like this, hold himself like this? Like the world is but an old friend he likes to carry on his shoulders so it can have a better look at what is ahead. 

Like he is more, so much more than what Eddie thought him to be. Like he is exactly who Eddie needs him to be. Wants him to be. Has dreamed him to be. 

As though summoned by Eddie’s pathetically racing heart, Harrington chooses that exact moment to look up and away from his partner, and by some cruel twist of fate, out of the hundreds of eyes in this room, he meets Eddie’s. The gentleness fades, the smile paling into something tinged with regret, and it takes every ounce of strength Eddie possesses not to cross the room and fall to his knees to beg forgiveness. 

He swallows and lifts the goblet to his lips, his breath hitching as Lord Harrington mirrors him, and they both take a slow, excruciating sip, their gazes never once wavering. 

I will not sing tonight, Eddie promises, wondering if it is at all possible that Lord Harrington has the gift of clairvoyance and knows exactly what Eddie is thinking or planning to do. I will do right by you, even if it is too late. Even if it costs everything. 

In the end it is Lord Harrington who looks away first, his attention caught once more by his companion, and Eddie withers as he sees the gentleness returning to his gaze. He is not quick enough in tearing away his eyes, however, because Harrington’s companion, another bard, he assumes fom the look of her, turns towards him just a second later — and if looks could kill, Eddie would find himself dead six times over. 

🤍🌷 make me write (please) – you can't vote anymore but asks are still welcome as i make my way through them ever so slowly

[munsonsmixtapes]

Teach Me

Steve x bi!fem!reader

word count: 8,046

part one part two part three part five part six part seven part eight

Part Four: Lesson Three

“Can’t believe this is the second weekend in a row that you’re ditching me,” Eddie scoffed as he lay across your bed. He was on his stomach with his feet kicked up as he flipped through yet another one of your magazines, swinging his legs back and forth. You swore that he liked them more than you did. He loved the gossip and all the little quizzes. For the last twenty minutes, he had been trying to figure out who his dream date was going to be and was trying to decide between the final two.

“And I can’t believe you’re complaining when you claimed that you were a “proud daddy” because I was hanging out with people who weren’t you,” you retorted, throwing on a pair of shorts.

“I’m still a proud daddy, don’t get it twisted,” he stood up from the bed. “But now I feel like you’re replacing me for Harrington,” he jutted out his bottom lip. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.”

“We work together, Eds,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “And I’d never replace you. You’re my best friend.”

“You know you’re allowed to have feelings for him, right? I’m not upset.” The more he thought about it, the more he could see you with Steve. And it didn’t upset him in the slightest. In fact, he couldn’t have been more happy.

“I don’t like him.” Eddie thought it was cute how in denial you were of your feelings. How it was so obvious that you liked Steve but you were the only one who couldn’t see it.

“Right,” he nodded. “You don’t have feelings for Steve in the way that I’m one hundred percent straight,” he winked. Your sexuality was one of the things that bonded you. You both had realized that you were bisexual at very young ages and had been the first people that you each came out to.

“But-”

“Don’t try to deny it, babe,” he nudged your shoulder. “Own it. He likes you too.”

“How can you be so sure?” Eddie gave you a look as if to say “really” with a hand on his hip.

“Because I can see hearts forming in his eyes every time he looks at you.” It was almost sickening, how much love Steve looked at you with. The way his brown eyes would soften and his lips would turn up into that stupid, dopey smile.

“No you can’t.” You almost wanted to believe that he was lying, but Eddie was a terrible liar and he most certainly would have never lied to you.

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “That man is totally in love with you.” That was a hard concept for you to grasp. That anyone could love you. Especially in a romantic sense. You had always been a last choice to people so why would you have ever been anyone’s first?

“Whatever.” You turned back to your closet and went through the rack one more time before deciding on one of your old tank tops. You really needed to update your wardrobe.

“Now, let’s talk about something more important,” he reached for the magazine and held it out to you. “Do you think my dream man is Harrison Ford or Johnny Depp?”

“I can’t believe you’d even ask me that,” you rolled your eyes as you threw on the tank top. “We both know you like men old enough to be your father so you’re definitely going to choose Harrison Ford.”

“You know me so well,” he grabbed hold of your face and pressed a loud, smacking kiss to your cheek. You quickly wiped your cheek with the back of your hand with a grimace. “Damn,” he let out a whistle. “Looking to get some tonight?”

“No,” you glared. “Robin will be there too. Are you gonna be okay here tonight?” He was watching Callie for you yet again which you always appreciated. “I can stay.”

Eddie knew exactly what you were doing. You were trying to seem like you were concerned about him being able to take care of Callie, but you both knew that you were hush trying one last time to get out of your plans.

“Nope, you’re going,” he grabbed your purse and shoved it into your hands.

“But-”

“No. Callie is going to try a fishtail braid on me and you are not going to ruin that for me.” You thought that it was cute that he always let her play with his hair.

“Oh, so you have big plans,” you let out a laugh.

“That I do. Now get out of here.” He handed you your pager before giving your ass a slap.

“Alright, I’m going.” You headed for the door but he grabbed your wrist before you could. You could have sworn that he was going to give you a kiss goodbye, but he didn’t.

“Wait, hold on.” He grabbed hold of the front of your shirt, pulling the front of it down to show off some of your cleavage. “There.”

“Eddie, for the last time, I’m not getting some tonight.” You knew that he was up to something, but you were afraid to ask what.

“Sure, sure,” he winked and you made a beeline for the door, scared to know what he had been up to.

You pulled up to Steve’s once again and this time, you were grateful to have Robin there so you wouldn’t have wanted to get close to Steve. You would have wanted to snuggle close to him as the movie played; to stare at him instead of the screen, your eyes drifting to his lips, wanting to know what they tasted like.

You couldn’t let things progress with him, you just couldn’t. Denying your feelings was the way to go. Even if you had started something with him, he would just find someone new, leaving you in the dust. Everyone else did, so why was Steve an exception?

You rang the doorbell and the door opened in record time, Steve on the other side. He was dressed in a hoodie and a pair of basketball shorts, something that was definitely more casual than what he usually wore. You liked the look on him.

“Oh,” he said in surprise. “So you still decided to show up. Come on in.” You stepped inside, unsure of what he had meant. Clearly you were missing a vital piece of information.

“Yeah, we made plans, or did you forget?” You let out a laugh, but quickly stopped when you saw that he wasn’t laughing with you.

“Robin canceled and said that she was going to call you.” He closed the door before turning to face you. Now it all made sense; Eddie being weird about you “getting some” and pulling down the front of your shirt. He had been in cahoots with Robin to set you and Steve up.

“She didn’t.”

“Oh.” Steve was now finally in the loop, realizing what had happened. He couldn’t believe that he had fallen for his friend’s tricks once again. “Well, you’re already here. Do you still want to watch the movie? Or we can play a board game.”

“Or we could practice some more.” Steve liked the way you thought. He couldn’t sit next to you in that kind of setting and not think about how he wanted you cuddled up into his side. He couldn’t think about how pretty you looked and how much he wanted to run his hands along your body. How he wanted to press kisses to every inch of skin he could find. If he was teaching you how to behave on a date, then that would give him something to focus on other than your pretty, soft skin.

“That works too,” he shrugged. “I already have the whole lesson plan written out.” He wasn’t going to tell you that he wouldn’t have done that for anyone else. That you were special.

“Since when are you so thorough?” Literally never. But he would be for you. He would have been whatever you wanted.

“This is important to you and I want to make sure that I don’t leave anything out.” That was true, but he also wanted you to know how seriously he took it. He didn’t want you to think that he didn’t know what he was doing, and he definitely didn’t. At least, not when he was around you.

“That’s sweet.”

“I mean, I can’t have any potentially bad advice lead back to me.” You just laughed, giving his shoulder a shove.

“So, what’s on the agenda?” His mind went blank. Everything that he had written down in his notebook had completely vanished from his brain.

“This is the perfect opportunity to show you how to go on a date to the movies.” You didn’t like the sound of that. You hadn’t heard a single good thing about going to the movies on a first date.

“Isn’t that known to be a bad first date?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Sure,” he shrugged. “To amateurs.”

“And you’re not one?” You joked and he just rolled his eyes.

“Clearly not since you asked me to help you.” He had a point. You wouldn’t have asked him if he didn’t have so much experience. You wanted help from someone who actually knew what they were doing.

“Touché. So what are we watching?”

“Whatever you want.” He headed over to a cabinet that was by the biggest TV you had ever seen. You turned the cabinet and you could have sworn that it was filled with every single VHS tape ever made.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks real quick.” Before you could answer, he fled to the kitchen. You turned to look around while he was busy with his task and your gravitate over to the sliding glass door that led out to his backyard. You got closer and realized that he had a pool. Of course he did. Rich people always had pools. The moon reflected off the water, making it look so inviting on that summer night. It looked so much cleaner than the public one in town. It looked prettier, bluer. And probably cost a fortune to keep up with. You were going to have to invite yourself over to use it sometime.

Steve came back in record speed with a tray filled with all sorts of different snacks and a couple of sodas. He set them on the coffee table and turned to your with a smile.

“Help yourself,” he gestured to the tray with his hands and you stepped forward to see what all the options were. In the center was a giant bowl of popcorn and there were smaller bowls of candies surrounding it. He took one of the sodas and cracked it open before taking a sip then headed over to his movie selection.

While Steve was going through the tapes, all you could think about was how fucking pissed you were at Eddie for his little schemes and you were definitely going to tell him as such as soon as possible. There was no way he was getting away with something like that.

You could get a date on your own. You didn’t need your best friend to help you and especially not behind your back. You supposed that in the grand scheme of things, what he had done wasn’t so bad, but it was more so that you had been caught off guard and that Steve had been dragged into it as well.

“I’ve got literally everything so take your pick.” Steve moved out of the way so you could see his collection. You stepped forward and couldn’t help but admire the way that everything was not only alphabetized but also categorized by genre.

It felt weird hanging out with someone who had things like that. You had grown up with practically nothing and so did Eddie. The two of you were eating TV dinners or food from cans and playing with old toys that were hand me downs from your parents and Wayne while kids like Steve were getting home cooked meals and the newest electronics. Being friends with Steve was like entering a whole new world that you had no idea how to be in.

You felt envious that he could have anything he wanted just by asking when you knew that just having your own bed was out of the question. You wondered what it would have been like to have your own room and where your next meal would be coming from while those were things that Steve never even had to worry about.

“Do you have any horror?” That had definitely been your favorite genre, but you were never able to watch it because Callie was always around and you definitely didn’t want her to subject her to that.

“Yeah, of course.” You squatted next to him, your hands accidentally brushing as you teetered towards him, losing your balance a bit. You liked the way his skin felt against yours and wondered if the rest of him was just as soft.

“This section isn’t as big as your others.” There had to be about ten movies on the entire shelf when the others had at at least thirty.

“Because Robin bought them all. It’s honestly my least favorite genre.” You let out a gasp, putting your hand up to your chest and he just glared at you.

“Aww, Stevie,” you rested your hand on his shoulder. There was that nickname again, but this time, he didn’t mind it. Actually, he was starting to prefer it to his actual name, but only because it was you who was saying it. “Do they scare you?”

You let out a laugh and he could have sworn he had died and gone to heaven because that would have been the only reason why he was hearing something so angelic. He didn’t care that it was at his expense, he was honestly willing to do whatever he could to hear it again.

“No,” he grumbled and you almost thought the blush creeping up on his cheeks was adorable. Almost.

“C’mon, you tell me,” you nudged him. “I won’t laugh,” you held up one of your pinkies. “Promise.”

He looked down at your finger then back up to your face, suspicion in his eyes. He didn’t know why you were offering him a pinky promise since they often meant nothing.

“Why would I believe you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Pinky promises never actually mean anything.” You only scoffed at him. You couldn’t believe that he actually thought that.

“Excuse me?” You glared. “Pinky promises are actually very serious and I would never break them.” You truly meant the words that were coming out of your mouth. You had made countless pinky promises with Callie and you’d have been damned if you had broken any of them.

“C’mon, Stevie,” you leaned closer to him so that your faces were almost centimeters apart. He was resisting the strong urge to close the small space between the two of you, slotting his lips between yours. “I won’t tell anyone,” you whispered and he thought for a second before holding his own pinky up.

Your fingers wrapped around each other and the two of you each gave your hands a shake before pulling away from each other completely.

“Fine,” he let out a sigh, letting his hand fall to his lap. “They’re a little scary.” He felt a little embarrassed about his confession and was hoping that you really wouldn’t laugh like you had promised. Robin and Eddie had already given him shit and he really didn’t need it from you too. He was just a baby at heart. He hoped that if he milked it enough, you’d pull him into your arms and let him cuddle into your side. That seemed like wishful thinking, though.

“See?” You asked. “Was it that hard?” You gave him a pointed look.

“No, but I think my ego is a little bruised.” He put his hand up to his chest and rubbed the spot as if he had been wounded. He was almost as dramatic as Eddie sometimes.

“Well, it is a bit too big so I think you can stand to be knocked down a few pegs.” His mouth fell open at your words and he realized that he kind of liked being insulted by you, feeling a little turned on by your jab. He noticed that a lot of girls felt like they needed to walk on eggshells around him as if they were afraid that they would have insulted him. It was as if he was some fragile thing that needed to be protected from any possible deflation.

“You’re mean,” he glared and you just let out a chuckle at his cute pout.

“And you’re a dingus. Oh!” Your face lit up as you reached for a movie from the shelf, turning it around so he could see the title. “This is a classic!” Steve had never even heard of the movie so he assumed it was Robin’s.

He had never seen you so excited about anything, but he supposed that it was due to a horror movie just made sense for you. He liked seeing that side of you. He liked seeing the bright smile on your face as your eyes lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning.

He was nervous, however, to see just how scary the movie was and hoped that there weren’t going to be any jump scares. He couldn’t embarrass himself even more in front of you. He knew that you wouldn’t judge him, but he couldn’t help but want to be the protector. And maybe it wasn’t very feminist of him to want that for himself, but he didn’t care. He wanted you to bury your face into his neck, holding onto him for dear life. He was really just looking for any excuse to get close to you.

He turned the TV on and reluctantly put the movie into the VCR, putting the cover out of his line of sight even though he knew the thing would haunt him in his dreams. He turned to the couch to see that you had already made yourself comfortable there. You had curled yourself up against the left arm; the spot where he usually sat. You just looked so pretty there that he supposed that he could let you have the spot just this once.

He slowly sat down on the cushion next to yours and made sure to keep some space between the two of you. He wanted to be sure that he wasn’t crossing any of your boundaries. You pushed yourself further into the arm even though you wanted nothing more than to tuck yourself into Steve’s side and rest your head on his chest

“Alright,” Steve let out a sigh once he was seated. “Let’s get started.” He fully turned to face you, resting his hands on his thighs, trying his best to wipe his sweaty palms without being obvious.

“Let’s,” you agreed with a nod.

“So, I’m going to go through this as if you’re the one calling the shots.”

“Got it.”

“So, really, going to see a movie is a great way to get close to the person you’re going with.”

“Really?” Your features scrunched in confusion.

“Well, physically,” he specified. “Is it okay if I scoot closer to you?” You appreciated that he asked even though that was the bare minimum.

“Yes.” Your heart rate picked up at the thought of you actually being that close to him and you hoped he couldn’t hear it in the silence between the two of you.

The two of you moved into the center of the cushions so you wouldn’t be pinned to the armrest and you realized that he was one of the only people you had sat that close to anyone outside of your family in a non-sexual context. It was nice. That there wasn’t any pressure to make any moves and be smooth.

Steve’s bare thigh touched yours and your found your mind yet again wandering to thinking about his legs being tangled with yours as he laid on top of you, pressing the most gentle kisses to your lips.

You knew you shouldn’t have been thinking about it, but you couldn’t help it. Sex had become such a big part of your social life that it had been hardwired into your brain. It was a switch that automatically turned on when you were alone with someone that you felt physically attracted to.

You turned to Steve and he was already looking at you, patiently waiting for you zone back into the conversation. He always got concerned when you got that into your head, knowing that you were overthinking something or adding something to your ever growing list of responsibilities.

“So, a great way to initiate touch, if you’re up for it, is to,” Steve paused when he realized that you hadn’t been paying attention. You had turned your head to the left, afraid to look him in the eye, which he thought was odd considering you were always so good at making eye contact.

He slowly lifted his hand and hooked his finger under your chin, taking it between his pointer finger and thumb. He turned you to face him and he didn’t miss the light pink tint covering your cheeks.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” He asked, softly. Your cheeks only turned more pink and he tried to hold back a laugh at how adorable you looked.

You avoided his gaze, your eyes settling for staring at his shoulder. You had never felt this embarrassed in your life and it was in front of Steve. You were now just like everyone else and you hated that. You weren’t immune to the feeling of being emotionally attracted to people anymore. You were developing a crush, and it was on Steve Harrington.

“Nothing, Steve,” you finally got the guts to look him in the eye. “I swear.”

“Okay,” he , letting go of your chin, letting his hand fall back to his lap.

“You’re not going to press me for an answer?” Perhaps you were so confused because your parents would never let you get away with keeping information from them when they asked you a question. Keeping quiet was usually met with marks that you had to cover up with makeup and long clothing.

“No,” he shook his head. “Because if you don’t want to tell me, then I’m not going to insist.” Your heart warmed at hearing those words. It meant a lot to you that he respected that you didn’t want to tell him.

“Oh.” Your lips parted, wanting to say something else, but you weren’t sure what. You felt weird thanking him for something like that.

“Do you want to continue?” He gave you a small smile and you returned it along with a nod.

“Yes, sorry,” you shook your head, moving your hair away from your face. Steve had never seen you so out of order. Was he-was he making your nervous? No, there was no way. You didn’t get nervous, especially not around him. He was usually the nervous one.

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“Promise?” You asked and he responded by holding up his pinky. You hooked yours around his and you both gave your hands a little shake before pulling away.

“Okay, so, again, the best way to initiate touch is just holding your hand face up, like this,” he held his hand up just like he was saying then laid it on his thigh, slowly inching it towards you. “See? This way, you can offer your hand without saying a word and you put the ball in their court.”

“Does this actually work or are you just fucking with me?”

“I can confidently say that it has a one hundred percent success rate.”

“That’s because you’re you. If just anyone tried that, they would have to relocate to a different state out of embarrassment.”

“Will you stop critiquing and just take my hand?” He gave you a pointed look and you looked down at his hand that was waiting for yours. It looked nice and soft and you wondered how it would have felt in other places.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to hold it. I thought you were just showing me.” You gingerly slid your hand into his and he was quick to slot his fingers in between yours, giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

Your heart rate picked up as you both turned to the TV screen to watch the movie that you had completely neglected. You were so aware of how his hand felt pressed against yours and it was causing your to internally panic.

It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean anything. You repeated the words in your head as he gently stroked your hand with the pad of his thumb. At that, all of your thoughts left your brain and for once, the thing was empty.

“See?” He asked, turning to you. “Just like this.” He continued to stroke your hand, keeping his eyes on the screen. You watched the scene before you and tilted your head to the side, noticing that you didn’t recognize what was happening despite having seen the movie more times than you could count.

“Oh my god,” you turned to face him, giving him glare. “You switched the movie!” You pulled your hand away from his in feigned disgust.

“Wow,” he rolled his eyes in a dramatic nature. “I invite you into my house and this is how you treat me?” He put his hand up to his chest in offense, shaking his head at you.

“Admit it, Steve.”

“I’m not admitting anything, honey.” The sudden use of the nickname made you want to melt. It was so soft and sweet just like him.

“Then how about I remove the movie and we’ll see?” You stood up from the couch but he grabbed hold of your waist and pulled you back down. The feeling in the air suddenly shifted as you locked eyes. His shifted to your lips then back up to your eyes so quickly that you might have missed it if you hadn’t been paying so much attention to him

“You know, I’m doing a nice thing for you and I’m not even getting anything in return.” His hands slipped from your waist and he crossed his arms over his chest. He did have a point, but you weren’t sure what you could have offered him.

“Well, you never told me what you wanted.” You leaned closer to him and he mimicked your actions, hypnotized by the flirty look on your face.

“How about this? I teach you and you teach me.” You didn’t know what he was getting at and were afraid to ask.

“And what could I possibly teach you?” There was nothing. You really didn't know how to do anything except draw and you didn’t think teaching him that was a fair trade.

“You’re kidding right?” He let out a laugh as he raised an eyebrow. You were still unsure of what he was getting at and just wanted him to come right out and say it.

“Just tell me,” you gave him a nudge.

“Sex,” he gave you a nudge in return.

“What?” You scoffed. Nope. Absolutely not. You were not having sex with Steve Harrington. That was where you drew the line.

“That’s the area you’re an expert in and clearly I’m lacking.” You let out a laugh at thinking about Steve lacking in sexual experience. He definitely didn’t get the name “King Steve” from being a virgin.

“Steve,” you moved away from him, tension rising in the air. There was a hesitance in your voice and he immediately regretted asking. He had definitely crossed a boundary.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Just forget I said anything.”

“Let’s do it.”

“What?” His eyes widened at your suggestion. He hadn’t actually expected you to agree. The whole thing had been a joke, after all.

“You’re right,” you shrugged. “You deserve something in return, so I’ll teach you everything I know.” You knew the mess you were getting yourself into, but you were slowly realizing that you’d do anything for Steve.

“Y/n, I was just joking. You don’t have-”

“I know,” you cut him off. “But I want to.” You rested a hand on top of his. You gave him an assuring nod but he was still unsure. He began to chew on his lip as he weighed his options.

On the one hand, he could have really used some pointers from someone who really knew what they were doing, but on the other, he knew how easy it would have been to cross a line where fake could easily become real.

Without putting much thought into it, you reached up and pulled his lip from between his teeth with your thumb before resting a hand on his cheek. It was warm and soft and you had to resist the urge to press a kiss to it.

“I teach you, you teach me?” You asked and he just nodded in response.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” he responded with a nod.

“Good boy.” He didn’t like how hard his dick got hearing you say those words.

“Well, since I taught you something tonight, it’s only fair that you do the same.”

“What do you want to know?” You were curious as to what he was

“I mean, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’d say I know my way around a make out session, but it’s like-” he cut himself off, trying to find the right words.

“Like what, honey?” He could have sworn that he had melted hearing that nickname fall from your lips.

“It’s like I don’t know how to go all the way anymore.” He wasn’t going to tell you that you were the reason why. That he always envisioned your face anytime he would make out with a girl, automatically making him not want to continue. You were taking up every inch of his brain and he didn’t want you to stop.

“So you haven’t…”

“No,” he shook his head, hanging it low so you couldn’t see his face. “Not in a while.”

“How long is a while?” Steve knew you were just trying to get all the facts straight so you could really help him, but he still felt embarrassed. He also knew that you wouldn’t judge him, but he couldn’t help but compare his sex life to yours.

“Three months,” he let out a sigh. He hadn’t been sleeping with people too often, but even that was a dry spell for him. It was frustrating, especially since he was trying. Especially because the one woman who he actually wanted to sleep with couldn’t have been less interested.

You didn’t say anything in response. You just sat there, trying to figure how to approach the situation. You thought that maybe he had been exaggerating and that it had really only been like a week, but three months was a long time. Especially for Steve and how many dates he seemed to go on.

You felt bad for the guy. You felt bad that he had gotten so desperate for your help. If you were being honest, you had no fucking clue how to teach him without actually participating in the act. And you couldn’t. That would be a breach of your nonexistent contract.

“Do you want to start now?” He was caught off guard by your question. He thought he had more time, but he supposed that it was better to go for it then just panic for its anticipation for your next lesson.

“Can we?” He hadn't even thought that was an option right in that very moment. He was supposed to be helping you, not the other way around. But he had agreed, so he was going to have to go through with it no matter how much it scared him

“Whatever you want,” you shrugged. “You call the shots.” He didn’t like making the decisions. He just liked being told what to do.

“Okay, let’s do it. What’s first?” He was curious to see what you were going to suggest, if you would describe it or if you would actually touch him. God, did he want you to touch him.

“Well, before all of the sex stuff, we have to figure out what’s going on with your make outs and why they’re not working out.”

“How do we do that? Are we-are we going to make out?” He was trying to hold back his excitement but a small smile was evident on his face.

“Not if you don’t want to.” You swore you weren’t going to do anything but listen to his advice, but now here you were, about to make out with him and you were sure that you were going to like it. You couldn’t, though. Because then you’d want more and you couldn’t have it. It was just going to be a one-time thing.

“I want to.” So badly, he wanted to add, but he didn’t. He didn’t want you to know just how desperate he was to press his lips to yours. How much he was looking forward to sliding his tongue into your mouth.

“We’re doing this.” You scooted closer to him, hoping that he couldn’t hear your heart hammering in your chest. You had never been so nervous to makeout with someone and for once, you were afraid you were going to screw it up.

“Yep,” he let out a nervous chuckle.

“Can I get on top of you?” His eyes widened at your question and he wanted to tell you that you could do anything you wanted to him and he’d happily take it.

“Please,” he responded a little too eagerly and you took no time to straddle him and place yourself on his lap.

He couldn’t believe it. You were actually straddling him, about to make out with him. It wasn’t one of his fantasies he thought about when he was falling asleep.

You slowly rested your hands on his shoulders while his went to your lower back, right above your ass. You slowly inched your face towards his, giving him a chance to back out if he wanted to.

When he made no objection, you pressed your lips to his in a lingering peck. You pulled away for a second only to dive back in, capturing his bottom lip between your two. Steve was quick to return your kiss, your lips moving together slowly as you wrapped your arms around your neck to pull him closer to you.

Your hands ran through his hair and he didn’t even care that you were messing it up. If he was being honest, you were the only one who he’d let touch it.

Steve was honestly surprised he was able to react since his brain had short-circuited. Your lips were just as soft as he had hoped they would be and your hands were in his hair. He was just living the dream and hoping that he’d never wake up.

His hands pushed up the back of your shirt so he had access to your bare skin. Your tongue ran along his bottom lip and he opened up, letting you inside. Your tongue moved around his mouth in a messy manner, as if you were trying to taste every part of it. He tasted like the grape soda he had been drinking and for once, you didn’t hate the flavor.

His hands moved higher up your back, underneath your bra, but he made no move to remove it. Your shirt was moving higher up your waist and you were so close to just taking it off. You pulled away from him, the kiss getting too heated for your liking.

“I don’t see what the problem is, you’re doing great.” He knew that was only true because now he had the real thing.

“I think that’s because you’re a great teacher.”

“Haven’t taught you anything yet, Stevie.”

You pressed your lips to his cheek and moved your way down to the column of his neck, making sure to give each of his moles a kiss as you did so. You got to his neck, giving the spot a little love. You pressed gentle, open mouthed kisses to the skin before giving it a hard suck.

Steve let out a small whimper and that sounded like an invitation to continue. You continued to suck even harder then grazed his skin with your teeth which was followed by a moan falling from his lips.

His fingertips dug into your back and it arched at the sensation, bringing you closer to him. His nails moved down your back, scratching at the skin, just hard enough to leave a mark, but soft enough to not break the skin.

You diffused the bite with your tongue then moved back up to his lips, slamming yours to them. You took no time to stick your tongue back into his mouth, desperate to taste him more, sliding it roughly against his.

The kiss was rushed and messy as you tried to take what you wanted from him and he was there, pliant underneath you. He was going to let you have whatever you wanted, all he needed was your pretty lips.

You reluctantly pulled away for air and the both of your stared at each other, chests, rising and falling as you did so. You looked down into his eyes and could suddenly see what Eddie had been talking about. You could see the hearts. He had a dopey smile on his face and his brown eyes were suddenly the color of honey. Fuck, you were falling just as hard as he was.

His pupils were blown and his lips were swollen and pink from your kisses and you hated that he looked so goddamn adorable. So adorable that you wanted to kiss him all over again and tell him just how cute you thought he was.

“Was that okay for you?” You asked, flipping some of your hair over your shoulder, trying to play it off like you wouldn’t have been content kissing him all night.

“More than okay,” he smiled, his hands slowly slipping from your shirt. You were disgusted that you were actually starting to miss his touch. “You were-you were great.”

“You weren’t half bad yourself, Harrington,” you winked and he was trying real hard to not pull your back in for more. It was getting late and you should have headed home, but you still sat there in his lap.

His cheeks turned a shade of pink and you loved how easy it was to make him blush. How you could make him fold in just a few words. You were always flirting with people for the sole purpose of sleeping with them so you felt out of place flirting with Steve just because you wanted to. Because it was adorable seeing him stutter and become all flustered at hearing your words.

You reluctantly climbed off of Steve’s lap and he stared up at you, unmoving. Almost as if he was hypnotized. If you were able to do that to him just by making out with him, you wondered how he would’ve been after sleeping with you.

But you weren’t going to sleep with him. You couldn’t. Making out was one thing, but actually being intimate was off the table. You couldn’t do it. You wouldn’t. As much as you found yourself wanting him to lead you upstairs, you had to cut it short. Maybe it was because you felt weird because he was your friend or maybe it was because you were afraid of how emotionally connected to him you would have become afterwards.

“Well,” you sighed, grabbing your purse from the coffee table. “I should probably go.”

“Now?” He asked, quickly standing from the couch. You thought it was cute that he wanted you to stay but not cute enough to actually do it. You had to leave him wanting more and clearly from the way he was acting, you had been successful.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I need to get back to Callie.” Technically, you weren’t lying. You wanted to make sure that Eddie had actually gotten her into bed on time. He could never say no and always ended up letting her stay up because she wanted to see you before she went to sleep

“Right, yeah,” he nodded in understanding. “I’ll walk you out.”

You headed for the door and Steve trailed behind you like a lost puppy. A couple of kisses and he was already willing to do whatever you asked him. Not that he needed the kisses to do it, but they definitely helped. All you had to do was tell him to jump and he’d ask you how high.

Steve was in a daze as he followed you to the door. Your make out session was playing in his head on repeat. Your hands in his hair, your tongue in his mouth, his hands underneath your shirt, your lips on his neck. It almost didn’t feel real with the floaty-feeling state he was in. It was almost as if he had taken one of Eddie’s edibles with the way he was feeling.

He opened the door for you and leaned against the doorframe when you got out onto the porch. He was looking at you so dreamily, almost as if he had been under the influence of something. It was almost cute. Almost.

“Well,” you reached into your purse for your keys. “I had a good time tonight.”

“Me too,” he nodded. A really good time.

“You can just give me a call when you have the next lesson planned and we can work around my schedule.” He already had it planned out but he wasn’t going to tell you that. He didn’t want to let on that he was actually crushing on you. That would’ve blown the whole mission.

“Sounds good,” he nodded once more and you stepped forward to plant one final kiss on his lips before heading down the steps and to your car.

He waited until your car was on the road before heading back inside. He couldn’t keep the smile on his face as he put the videotape away and cleaned up all the snacks, putting them all in containers to save for later.

He honestly couldn’t believe that had happened. Not only had he finally kissed you, but it had also more than lived up to the hype. Your lips were so soft and tasted sweet from the lip balm you had been wearing. You had your way with him and as much as he liked a soft and gentle make out, he was beginning to think that maybe he liked it rough. He actually liked the way you weren’t treating him nicely, that your were just taking what you wanted, having no regard for him at all. He was surprised that you couldn’t feel how hard his dick was. Well, if you did, you hadn’t said anything about it, and thank god for that.

He headed into the foyer and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror by the door. He stepped up to it and could see a bruise forming on the side of his neck where you had your way with him. He turned his head to the side to get a better look and nodded to himself in approval before heading up the stairs to bed to dream about you just like he had every single night.

You headed into the trailer, immediately hiding the smile on your face. You couldn’t give Eddie any sign that his stupid scheme had worked. Despite you actually not even caring that much anymore, you still wanted him to know how upset you were with him for putting you in that position.

As predicted, Eddie and Callie were on the couch, watching her favorite cartoon when you walked through the door. They both turned to you for a split second then immediately turned back to the screen.

“Time for bed,” you said and they both whined, making no move to actually get off the couch. “C’mon, TV off.”

“Can we at least finish this episode?” Eddie asked as if he hadn’t been a full grown adult who could decide when he went to bed.

“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s late enough as it is. C’mon, chop chop.” You clapped your hands and Callie reluctantly turned off the TV then both she and Eddie stood from the couch.

“G’night, bug,” he squatted in front of her, ruffling her hair before opening his arms for a hug.

“‘Night, Eds,” she responded with a pout.

“Oh come on. You know you can’t resist my hugs,” he still held his arms out, giving her one last chance to give in. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly and his wrapped around her back before they gave each other a tight squeeze.

Eddie then stood back to his full height and headed over to you, offering you a hug as well. You took it and felt his lips right by your ear.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of telling me all the gory details. I want a play by play tomorrow,” he said before pulling away.

“No promises,” you responded as he pushed the door open and headed across the way to his own home. There was no way in hell you were telling him about your night with Steve. If you did, then he would have won. And there was nothing you hated more than admitting that you were wrong.

After Eddie was gone, you headed over to Callie who was rubbing her eyes with her knuckles, desperately trying to fight getting sleepy.

“I’m not even tired,” she whined, still rubbing at her eyes.

“I know you’re not, bug,” you replied, letting out a chuckle. She would be asleep in five minutes with how tired she seemed to be.

Once you approached her, she held up her arms as if asking you to carry her. Without protest, you picked her up and she was quick to wrap her arms around your waist, resting her head on your shoulder.

You carried her to your shared room and laid her down on the bed gently, grateful that she was at least wearing her pajamas so you wouldn’t have to fight her on changing into them.

You changed into your own pajamas and crawled into bed with her. She was quick to scoot closer to you, wrapping her arms tightly around you, resting her head against your chest. Your arms pulled her tightly to you, stroking her hair with one hand while the other rested at your back. She always insisted that the two of you sleep like this, leaving no space between you. You were convinced that she would have been attached to you if she could have been.

“I missed you,” she murmured, snuggling further into you.

“Missed you too, bug,” you stroked her hair some more before hearing her light snores coming from her lips. You were always envious at how quickly she was able to fall asleep. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out. You couldn’t say the same. You would lie awake for hours, thinking about all of your issues and your never ending to do list. It plagued your brain constantly, but especially when you were trying to go to sleep.

That night, though, all you could seem to think about was your pretty coworker. Your pretty coworker that you had formed a strange agreement with. Your pretty coworker that you kissed. And you actually liked it.

You found yourself quickly drifting off to sleep, dreaming of nothing but Steve and his pretty lips that you found yourself wanting to kiss forever. Maybe if you played your cards right, he would have let you.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - July 23rd

Happy Sunday, folks! I went on a bit of a sportsball kick this week so--enjoy those recs. It’s also @Cap-Ironman rec week this week--I’ll be sharing all of my daily recs later today so look for that, and be sure to follow the tag for everyone’s recs. 

Be sure to comment/kudos! 

~*~ 

Average Avengers Local Chapter 7 of New York City by hetrez

Steve and Tony accidentally start a national do-gooders association and fall in love.

No time for losers by gottalovev

Tony Stark: Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist. Hockey superstar.

(featuring among other things an unexpected trade, learning to get along with new teammates, pining, the Olympics, and a happy ever after)

Ice Ice Baby (The Hockey Fic) by youcancallmearrow

Tony Stark is a star center, sidelined by a slip in sobriety. Steve Rogers is a goalie, suspended for a punch thrown off the ice.

When the two meet, they're trying to get their lives back on track, both off and on the ice. It turns out, the saying is true: A burden shared is a burdened halved. At least until Howard Stark gets involved.

(A get together fic full of fluff, supportive friends, dad Rhodey, and hockey! But if you know nothing about hockey, you'll be fine, because neither does the author.)

Things We Learned at the End of the World by JenTheSweetie

1. Even the apocalypse can't keep people away from Olive Garden

2. Smoothies do not replace conversations

3. Tony has really obvious sex hair

4. Home might be a little different, but that doesn't mean you can't go back

Didn't Catch You Saying Grace by isozyme

Tony’s straight: he always picks women, not men, so he must be. Steve’s gay, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

how much i’ve been touching you by isozyme 

Steve loves Tony, but not enough to listen about the SRA. He loves Sharon, but not enough to stop coming to Tony late at night.

Destiny Deserves Another Chance by KandiSheek

Steve is absolutely starstruck by the pirate who saves his village from destruction. When the mayor offers an omega's hand as a reward for his heroic deed, Steve wants nothing more than to be whisked away towards a better life. Anywhere would be better than here.

He's devastated when the alpha chooses Sunset Bain instead. He never even looks at Steve, which makes sense, considering Steve looks nothing like a proper omega should, what with his height and muscles. It's probably better that he was spared the humiliation. And it's not like Steve has a chance to win the pirate's heart now that he's promised to another.

Or so he thinks.

A High and Lonesome Sound by misslucyjane 

Some nights, Steve still has trouble breathing.

A castaway where no one hears you on a barren isle in a lonely sea by Wolfsheart

A year and a half (give or take a month) after the divorce, Tony is still fighting the residual depression left behind from the way the divorce went down. Having been granted primary custody of their daughter, he's brought Morgan back to live full-time with him in Malibu, and he decided to surprise her with a trip to Disneyland. He lost his 'magic' back when Pepper left, so he doesn't know how magical Disneyland will feel to him, but it'll make Morgan happy, and that's what matters. However, will running into long-time unrequited crush Steve Rogers change all of that?

D-Day: 70 Years Later by Potterwatch97

70 years later, Steve is forced to face a gruesome part of his past. One that he never thought he's live to see.

Tony Stark and the Super Sleeper, or actually, Soldier by RurouniHime 

The one where Steve keeps falling asleep on Tony.

When Hell Freezes Over by KandiSheek

Tony ingests a drug that amps his insecurities up to eleven. It seems like he's extremely susceptible to Steve's opinion specifically, now that he's like this.

Steve has no idea what to make of it. He only knows that trying to take care of Tony without accidentally revealing his feelings for him is going to be virtually impossible.

He does it anyway.

Fever, gettin' higher by RurouniHime

Yeah, okay, Steve Rogers knows what sexual harassment is. Despite his out-of-fashion upbringing, he’s not some backwater Neanderthal, thank you, he gets why it’s bad. He’ll go to bat for anyone who determines they’re the victim of unwelcome advances in the workplace. He’s not devaluing its impact, for god’s sake. 

But the key word here, as he sees it, is ‘unwelcome.’ And that… might not be what this is.

this will destroy you by silkspectred

The screen flashes in front of his eyes. It takes him entire seconds to realize that it’s an incoming call.

Indecent Proposal by sabrecmc 

One million dollars for one night. That could change your life.

Lock Screen by betheflame

Everything was fine.

Steve had everything under control.

Until Tony grabbed his phone while they were in the car, and his world shattered.

“This… this photo,” Tony croaked out. “Am I your lock screen?”

“You were not supposed to see that,” Steve said quickly. He reached for the phone while keeping one hand on the wheel.

“Keep driving please,” Tony said with a tone of calmness that ended up sounding terrifying, “and answer my question.”

Second Hand Mate by Morethancupcake 

"The bandages had been his idea. The long sleeves too. Tony traces it with the tip of his fingers, before securing the tape, keeping the words away, safe, buried with the first man who ever showed him love and support.

'Second hand mate.' "

 The first words his mate will use to talk about him.

Tony waits for it to happen.

Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree by Annie D (scaramouche)

Steve doesn’t mind that Tony doesn’t return his feelings. He just would've preferred if it didn’t come with the side effect of his coughing up flowers and possibly dying.

kings of the city by Areiton 

The Irish mob held Brooklyn.

The Spider held Queens.

And where Tony fits in the city has never been clear...

Sometimes though, he thinks he fits here--at Steve's side.

[deceptive-daydreams]

Underground update! 😍 im so pleased that a longer chapter won out. thank you for giving us the choice 🖤

Her character is getting more concrete in these flashbacks. Her choosing to sit on her own rather than with Steve to avoid his friends, being known as one of the shy ones, her berating herself over thinking anyone would even be interested... its all so heartbreaking. I feel like loneliness is such a big theme in this chapter, she was lonely at school and she's lonely present day, thinking everyone has essentially been having a laugh at her expense.

Especially Steve, so he was there for the falling out that she describes as heartbreak, helped her through it and cant not have known there were bigger feelings there for Eddie, whatever happened. Yet Steve still chose to get his 'selfish needs' met with him. Thing is, his needs being met wasnt her issue at all, just who he chose to meet them with. The way Steve thinks about this kinda makes me think it might just be hooking up, no big feelings, and i cant decide which would be worse, him choosing someone who hurt her just for the hell of it or that they do genuinely like eachother. But then if they do really like eachother, where does that leave R? I need so much more information! The flashback parts seem to say Eddie was into her just as much as she was him, which even Steve saw! (Plus Eddie's internal conflict over selling, not wanting to become his father - so sad 😢) I wonder how a conversation went between Eddie and Steve after last chapter. I kinda want them to call their thing off, but what if they are in love and stuff? I mean, I dont think they are..

And then R and Eddie's interaction present day, she thinks hes a liar but whhyy? What did you lie about Eddie?! I mean, he says nothing.. so who's in the wrong here? And he seems just as angry at her.. I need more info before i pick a side 🤣 and then her feeling so alone, not wanting to bother anyone and feeling so isolated from all her friends 💔 Plus still having to go into work because bills and just the stress that situation will have caused her, felt it big time. I hope Will in particular doesn't let her keep feeling that way.

Then both boys at the coffe shop and thier totally different approaches was interesting. Steve getting straight in her face didn't do much good, and Eddie's peace offering.. yea it was sweet, but pal, it's going to need much more than a coffee. Loved this as always, got me in all the feels 🖤🖤

you have no idea how excited I was when I woke up and this was in my inbox 🥹 I LOVE YOUR COMMENTARY AND I LOOK FORWARD TO IT EVERY TIME

lmao me worrying about it being 9.9k when the poll said like 10k-12k IT WAS ALMOST 10 OKAY but it needed to end where it did

Yeah loneliness fucking sucks even when you do have people around you cause it’s like well why are you lonely? And it’s just this thing you can’t really explain so you self isolate and make it worse especially in times of need. UGH SHES REALLY GOING THROUGH IT

I can’t say a lot but Steve done fucked up

we’ll have to see their story unravel more to see who’s right about the past and whether Eddie actually lied or not cause after all, there’s two sides to a story and then there’s the truth.

yeah Steve is a little inept in that way, tbh everyone is just so emotionally stunted in some way or another in this situation 🫤

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING I ALWAYS LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR THOUGHTS AND IT MAKES ME ALL GIDDY AND EXCITED

[douchebagbrainwaves]

IF YOU INVEST AT 20 AND THE COMPANY IS STARTING TO APPEAR IN THE MAINSTREAM

8x 5% 12. Many of our taboos future generations will laugh at is to start with. But like VCs, they invest other people's money makes them doubly alarming to VCs. If it isn't, don't try to raise money, they try gamely to make the best case, the papers are just a formality. Understand why it's worth investing in. But at each point you know how you're doing. Only a few companies have been smart enough to realize this so far. If you run out of money, you probably never will. Just as our ancestors did to explain the apparently too neat workings of the natural world. Genes count for little by comparison: being a genetic Leonardo was not enough to compensate for having been born near Milan instead of Florence. The last one might be the most plausible ones. And yet a lot of other domains, the distribution of outcomes follows a power law, but in startups the curve is startlingly steep.

The list is an exhaustive one. I can't tell is whether they have any kind of taste. And if so they'll be different to deal with than VCs. The people are the most important of which was Fortran. It is now incorporated in Revenge of the Nerds. I have likewise cavalierly dismissed Cobol, Ada, Visual Basic, the IBM AS400, VRML, ISO 9000, the SET protocol, VMS, Novell Netware, and CORBA, among others. When people first start drawing, for example, because Paypal is now responsible for 43% of their sales and probably more of their growth. We fight less. You tell them only 1 out of 100 successful startups has a trajectory like that, and they have a hard time getting software done. What if some idea would be a remarkable coincidence if ours were the first era to get everything just right. In hacking, this can literally mean saving up bugs. I know that when it comes to code I behave in a way that seems to violate conservation laws.

Few would deny that a story should be like life. Steve Wozniak wanted a computer, Google because Larry and Sergey found, there's not much of a market for ideas. For a painter, a museum is a reference library of techniques. For a long time to work on as there is nothing so unfashionable as the last, discarded fashion, there is something even better than C; and plug-and-chug undergrads, who are both hard to bluff and who already believe most other investors are conventional-minded drones doomed always to miss the big outliers. As in any job, as you continue to design things, these are not just theoretical questions. But evidence suggests most things with titles like this are linkbait. Almost every company needs some amount of pain. I'd find something in almost new condition for a tenth its retail price at a garage sale.

Once you phrase it that way, the answer is obvious: from a job. A company that grows at 1% a week will in 4 years be making $25 million a month. You feel this when you start. Starting a startup is committing to solve any specific problem; you don't know that number, they're successful for that week. For example, when Leonardo painted the portrait of Ginevra de Benci, their attention is often immediately arrested by it, because our definition of success is that the business guys choose people they think are good programmers it says here on his resume that he's a Microsoft Certified Developer but who aren't. After they merged with X. Once investors like you, you'll see them reaching for ideas: they'll be saying yes, and you have to understand what they need. Just wait till all the 10-room pensiones in Rome discover this site. You're better off if you admit this up front, and write programs in a way that allows specifications to change on the fly. Working from life is a valuable tool in painting too, though its role has often been misunderstood. The founders can't enrich themselves without also enriching the investors. You're committing not just to intelligence but to ability in general, you can not only close the round faster, but now that convertible notes are becoming the norm, actually raise the price to reflect demand.

Most investors are genuinely unclear in their own minds why they like or dislike startups. Actor too is a pole rather than a threshold. But here again there's a tradeoff between smoothness and ideas. Starting startups is not one of them. The classic way to burn through cash is by hiring a lot of this behind the scenes stuff at YC, because we invest in such a large number of companies, and we invest so early that investors sometimes need a lot of founders are surprised by it. In the original Java white paper, Gosling explicitly says Java was designed not to be too difficult for programmers used to C. And this team is the right model, because it coincided with the amount. Those are the only things you need at first.

Not always. And so an architect who has to build on a difficult site, or a programming language is obviously doesn't know what these things are, either. One reason this advice is so hard to follow is that people don't realize how hard it was to get some other company to buy it. You can see that in the back of their minds, they know. But that's still a problem for big companies, because they seem so formidable. It's an interesting illustration of an element of the startup founder dream: that this is a coincidence. They try to convince with their pitch. In most fields the great work is done early on.

This is supposed to be the default plan in big companies. The people you can say later Oh yeah, we had to interrupt everything and borrow one of their fellow students was on the Algol committee, got conditionals into Algol, whence they spread to most other languages. This is in contrast to Fortran and most succeeding languages, which distinguish between expressions and statements. And if it isn't false, it shouldn't be suppressed. I mentioned earlier that the most successful startups seem to have done it by fixing something that they thought ugly. In 1989 some clever researchers tracked the eye movements of radiologists as they scanned chest images for signs of lung cancer. Darwin himself was careful to tiptoe around the implications of his theory. Running a business is so much more enjoyable now. Don't worry what people will say. Growth is why it's a rational choice economically for so many founders to try starting a startup consists of. If there are x number of customers who'd pay an average of $y per year for what you're making, then the total addressable market, or TAM, of your company, if they can get DARPA grants.

Fortunately, more and more startups will. Good design is often slightly funny. Unconsciously, everyone expects a startup to work on technology, or take venture funding, or have some sort of exit. And I'm especially curious about anything that's forbidden. Angels would invest $20k to $50k apiece, and VCs usually a million or more. Nowadays Valley VCs are more likely to take 2-3x longer than I always imagine. In the mid twentieth century there was a lot less than the 30 to 40% of the company you usually give up in one shot. A deals would prefer to take half as much stock, and then just try to hit it every week. What's wrong with having one founder? Within the US car industry there is a kind of final pass where you caught typos and oversights.

[unwrittenwitness]

21st May 2021 - 18th July 2021 The Spaces Between Us

Before I came home for the summer, Laurence and I decided that he would join me in late August. He loved Brighton. That felt far enough away to pretend it wasn’t real. Just like choosing our wedding date.

We’ve always talked about opening our relationship—what that would look like, how we’d handle it. Hypotheticals, theories, conversations spoken in the safety of a closed door.

And then, a few weeks before I left, he suggested it. For real.

There was something off about it. Like he was trying to placate me. Like he was saying, Here, take this permission slip, so he could brace himself for whatever might come next. Like a last-ditch attempt to keep me. But I jumped at the chance. Not because I deeply, truly wanted it. But because I felt so itchy.

And I don’t think he’s thought this all the way through.

He says this will be good for both of us, but the landscape is uneven: I am about to be a single woman in a city known for its wild nights, with no job, surrounded by friends who love to party. He is about to be working 12-hour days, in a city known for producing oil. And he doesn’t even like people.

Still, I said yes. Yes, but with rules. Yes, but with boundaries. And something in me knows I am going to break them.

We also agreed to pull back - to stop talking constantly. Even the best person in the world can start to feel like a full-time job in a long-distance relationship.

And yet—

I’ve barely been home a week, and already, I feel like myself again.

Which makes me wonder:

Who have I been? What have we become? And—perhaps the most piercing question of all— When did I even become someone who wanted to be married?

17th July 2021 The Cards Already Knew I’ve been spending a lot of time with Sofi.

Smoke curling in the air. Salt on our skin. The pull of the tide mirroring the pull in my chest. We’ve been drinking, smoking, and sinking our toes into the warm sand. Tonight, she pulls out her Tarot deck. "Ask a question."

I don’t hesitate. "Should I leave Laurence?"

She shuffles, deals.

And then—

She shuffles again, uses a different deck, and deals again.

And again.

Three times. Three separate hands. The same three cards. In the same order.

I stare at the spread, my mind trying to stitch together some kind of logic. Is that a thing? Is that normal? Seventy-two cards in the deck, endless combinations, and yet—

It keeps repeating.

After the third time, I look at Sofi, searching for her reaction. She meets my gaze and says, simply, “It seems pretty obvious.”

And suddenly, out of my mouth, without hesitation, without thought, without any conscious effort, come the words—

"Yeah, I have to tell Lara about Steve before I turn 32."

What?!

Sofi just stares at me. Like she was expecting something, but not that. Like she was waiting for an answer, but not this answer.

And I don’t even know where these words have come from.

Through me, not from me.

A Door Opens

I have spent the better part of fifteen years keeping my mouth shut. Fifteen years of locking this truth inside my body, inside my bones.

And yet—

Three rounds of Tarot, and suddenly, I am planning to tell this woman that her husband is a pedophile.

This doesn’t feel like a choice.

It feels like a wave has risen behind me, too powerful to fight, lifting me off my feet. Like something greater than me has already decided.

And I am just being swept away.

18th July 2021 The Universe is Moving the Pieces

I text Lara, asking when I can visit.

She replies: the only weekend that works is August 7th.

Seven days before my 32nd birthday.

And Steve—he won’t even be there during the exact window I can come.

I sit with that for a moment, feeling the air shift around me.

That can’t be random.

It feels too precise, too arranged, too much like the invisible hand of the universe sliding puzzle pieces into place.

Is that a thing? Can the universe actually do that? Or am I just seeing patterns because I know—I know—this conversation is inevitable?

Sofi is throwing me a birthday party that night. But this?

This feels like something that must happen first.